Proceeding on my principle of impartial narration, I must here state,
that, after dinner, an unpleasant altercation occurred between--no other
than the two Pantisocritans! When feelings are accumulated in the heart,
the tongue will give them utterance. Mr. Southey, whose regular habits
scarcely rendered it a virtue in him, never to fail in an engagement,
expressed to Mr. Coleridge his deep feelings of regret, that _his_
audience should have been disappointed on the preceding evening;
reminding him that unless he had determined punctually to fulfil his
voluntary engagement he ought not to have entered upon it. Mr. C. thought
the delay of the lecture of little or no consequence. This excited a
remonstrance, which produced a reply. At first I interfered with a few
conciliatory words, which were unavailing; and these two friends, about
to exhibit to the world a glorious example of the effects of concord and
sound principles, with an exemption from all the selfish and unsocial
passions, fell, alas! into the common lot of humanity, and in so doing
must have demonstrated, even to themselves, the rope of sand to which
they had confided their destinies!

In unspeakable concern and surprise I retired to a distant part of the
room, and heard with dismay the contention continued, if not extending;
for now the two young ladies entered into the dispute, (on adverse sides,
as might be supposed) each confirming or repelling the arguments of the
belligerents. A little cessation in the storm afforded me the opportunity
of stepping forward and remarking that, however much the disappointment
was to be regretted, it was an evil not likely again to occur, (Mr. S.
shook his head) and that the wisest way, was to forget the past and to
remember only the pleasant objects before us. In this opinion the ladies
concurred, when placing a hand of one of the dissentients in that of the
other, the hearty salutation went round, and with our accustomed spirits,
we prepared once more for Piercefield and the Abbey.