not such; O! with what a different retrospect! But I owe it to justice
to say, Such good I truly can do myself, etc., etc." The rest of this
painfully inarticulate letter is filled with further complaints of ill
health, with further protestations of irresponsibility for the neglect
of duties, and with promises, never to be fulfilled, of composing or
assisting others to compose a memoir of Thomas Wedgwood, who, in
addition to his general repute as a man of culture, had made a special
mark by his speculations in psychology.

The singular expression, "worse than homeless," and the reference to
domestic distractions, appear to indicate that some estrangement had
already set in between Coleridge and his wife. De Quincey's testimony
to its existence at the time (a month or so later) when he made
Coleridge's acquaintance may, subject to the usual deductions, be
accepted as trustworthy; and, of course, for aught we know, it may
then have been already of some years' standing. That the provocation
to it on the husband's part may be so far antedated is at least a
reasonable conjecture. There may be nothing--in all likelihood there
is nothing--worth attention in De Quincey's gossip about the young
lady, "intellectually very much superior to Mrs. Coleridge, who
became a neighbour and daily companion of Coleridge's walks" at
Keswick. But if there be no foundation for his remarks on "the
mischiefs of a situation which exposed Mrs. Coleridge to an invidious
comparison with a more intellectual person," there is undoubtedly
plenty of point in the immediately following observation that "it
was most unfortunate for Coleridge himself to be continually
compared with one so ideally correct and regular in his habits as Mr.
Southey." The passion of female jealousy assuredly did not need to be
called into play to account for the alienation of Mrs. Coleridge from
her husband. Mrs. Carlyle has left on record her pathetic lament over