They used to tramp the hills, and discuss philosophy, and recite their poems the livelong day.  It was on one such jaunt that out of the ghost of shoreless seas they sighted the “Ancient Mariner.”  Then Coleridge went ahead, completed the plot and gave the poem to the world.  And once he said, half-boastfully, to Dorothy:  “This old seafaring poem is valuable in that it is a tale no one will understand, but which will excite universal interest.  Only the perfectly sane and sensible is dull.”

Wordsworth had read somewhat of the works of the German philosophers, and as he and his sister had a little money saved up they decided to go over and attend the lectures at the University of Goettingen for awhile.  Coleridge had nothing in the way to prevent his going, too, save that he didn’t have the money.  However, he wanted to go and so decided to lay the case before the sons of Josiah Wedgwood.  These young men had been schoolfellows of Coleridge at Cambridge, and once he had gone home with them and so had met their father.

And right here comes a very strong temptation to say not another word about Coleridge, but merge this essay off into a sketch of that most excellent, strong and noble man, Josiah Wedgwood.  Here is a man who left his impress indelibly on the times, and whose influence outweighed that of a dozen prime ministers.  The potter is gone, but he lives in his art, so we still have the best and purest and noblest of the soul of Josiah Wedgwood.

This man had assisted Coleridge at Cambridge, and it was to his sons Coleridge looked for help to realize his Susquehanna dream of Utopia.  But the Wedgwoods knew the hazy, moonshine quality of the project and made excuses.

Coleridge now appealed to them for assistance in a saner project, and they supplied him the money to go to Goettingen.

His stay of fourteen months in Germany gave him a firm hold on the language, and a goodly glimpse into the philosophy of Kant, Leibnitz and Schleiermacher.  When Coleridge returned to England, he went at once to see his interesting family.  Rumor has it that Mrs. Coleridge, in addition to caring for her own little brood and assisting in the Southey household, had also been working in the Keswick lead-pencil factory for a weekly wage of twelve shillings.  The philosopher did not much like this lowering of dignity, and said so mildly.  This led to the truthful explanation that he had hardly done his duty by his family in allowing them to shift for themselves or be cared for by kinsmen; and therefore advice from him was out of place.  In short, Southey intimated that while he would care for his sisters-in-law he drew the line at brothers-in-law.  And Samuel Taylor Coleridge drifted up to London (being down) to see if something would not turn up.