He had been asked if
he was not much struck _with_ him, and he said, he thought himself in
more danger of being struck _by_ him. I complained that he would not
let me get on at all, for he required a definition of every the
commonest word, exclaiming, 'What do you mean by a _sensation_, Sir?
What do you mean by an _idea_?' This, Coleridge said, was barricadoing
the road to truth:--it was setting up a turnpike-gate at every step we
took. I forget a great number of things, many more than I remember;
but the day passed off pleasantly, and the next morning Mr. Coleridge
was to return to Shrewsbury. When I came down to breakfast, I found
that he had just received a letter from his friend, T. Wedgwood,
making him an offer of 150_l._ a year if he chose to waive his present
pursuit, and devote himself entirely to the study of poetry and
philosophy. Coleridge seemed to make up his mind to close with this
proposal in the act of tying on one of his shoes. It threw an
additional damp on his departure. It took the wayward enthusiast quite
from us to cast him into Deva's winding vales, or by the shores of old
romance. Instead of living at ten miles' distance, of being the pastor
of a Dissenting congregation at Shrewsbury, he was henceforth to
inhabit the Hill of Parnassus, to be a Shepherd on the Delectable
Mountains. Alas! I knew not the way thither, and felt very little
gratitude for Mr. Wedgwood's bounty. I was presently relieved from
this dilemma; for Mr. Coleridge, asking for a pen and ink, and going
to a table to write something on a bit of card, advanced towards me
with undulating step, and giving me the precious document, said that
that was his address, _Mr. Coleridge, Nether-Stowey, Somersetshire_;
and that he should be glad to see me there in a few weeks' time, and,
if I chose, would come half-way to meet me. I was not less surprised
than the shepherd-boy (this simile is to be found in _Cassandra_) when
he sees a thunderbolt fall close at his feet. I stammered out my
acknowledgements and acceptance of this offer (I thought Mr.
Wedgwood's annuity a trifle to it) as well as I could; and this mighty
business being settled, the poet-preacher took leave, and I
accompanied him six miles on the road. It was a fine morning in the
middle of winter, and he talked the whole way. The scholar in Chaucer
is described as going

----Sounding on his way.

[14] My father was one of those who mistook his talent after
all. He us