Dr. Chalmers with his daughter and his very pleasing wife honoured me with a call this morning, and spent an hour with me, which the good doctor declared on parting to have been "_a refreshment_" such as he had not enjoyed for a long season.[207] N. B.--There were no sandwiches; only Mrs. Aders was present, who is most certainly a _bonne bouche_ for both eye and ear, and who looks as bright and sunshine-showery as if nothing had ever ailed her. The main topic of our discourse was Mr. Irving and his unlucky phantasms and phantis(ms). I was on the point of telling Dr. Chalmers, but fortunately recollected there were ladies and _Scotch_ ladies present, that, while other Scotchmen were content with brimstone for the itch, Irving had a rank itch for brimstone, new-sublimated by addition of fire. God bless you and your
Ever obliged and affectionate friend, S. T. COLERIDGE.
30 May? or 1 June? at all events. Monday night, 11 o'clock.
P. S.--Kind remembrances to Mrs. Green. I continue pretty well, on the whole, _considering_, save the soreness across the base of my chest.
MY DEAR POOLE,--Mr. Stutfield Junr.[208] has been so kind as to inform me of his father's purposed journey to Stowey, and to give me this opportunity of writing; though in fact I have little _pleasant_ to say, except that I am advancing regularly and steadily towards the completion of my Opus Magnum on Revelation and Christianity, the Reservoir of my reflections and reading for twenty-five years past, and in health not painfully worse. I do not know, however, that I should have troubled you with a letter merely to convey this piece of information, but I have a great favour to request of you; that is, that, supposing you to have still in your possession the two letters of the biography of my own childhood which I wrote at Stowey for you, and a copy of the letter from Germany containing the account of my journey to the Harz and my ascent of Mount Brocken, you would have them transcribed, and send me the transcript addressed to me, James Gillman's Esq., Highgate, London.
O that riches would but make wings for me instead of for itself, and I would fly to the seashore at Porlock and Lynmouth, making a good halt at dear, ever fondly remembered Stowey, of which, believe me, your image and the feelings and associations connected therewith constitute four fifths, to, my dear Poole,