stolen from my person at one of my unguarded moments by some
too partial artist, and my friends are pleased to think that he has not
much flattered me. Whatever its merits may be, you, who have so great an
interest in the original, will have a satisfaction in tracing the
features of one that has so long esteemed you. There are times when in a
friend's absence these graphic representations of him almost seem to
bring back the man himself. The painter, whoever he was, seems to have
taken me in one of those disengaged moments, if I may so term them, when
the native character is so much more honestly displayed than can be
possible in the restraints of an enforced sitting attitude. Perhaps it
rather describes me as a thinking man than a man in the act of thought.
Whatever its pretensions, I know it will be dear to you, towards whom I
should wish my thoughts to flow in a sort of an undress rather than in
the more studied graces of diction.

I am, dear Coleridge, yours sincerely, C. LAMB.

[The portrait to which Lamb refers will be found opposite page 706 in my
large edition. It was etched by Brook Pulham of the India House. It was
this picture which so enraged Procter when he saw it in a printshop
(probably that referred to by Lamb in a later letter) that he
reprimanded the dealer.

Here should come a charming letter to Louisa Holcroft dated June,
offering her a room at Enfield "pretty cheap, only two smiles a week."]

LETTER 396

CHARLES LAMB TO JOHN BATES DIBDIN

Friday, someday in June, 1826. [P.M. June 30, 1826.]

Dear D.--My first impulse upon opening your letter was pleasure at
seeing your old neat hand, nine parts gentlemanly, with a modest dash of
the clerical: my second a Thought, natural enough this hot weather, Am I
to answer all this? why 'tis as long as those to the Ephesians and
Galatians put together--I have counted the words for curiosity. But then
Paul has nothing like the fun which is ebullient all over yours. I don't
remember a good thing (good like yours) from the 1st Romans to the last
of the Hebrews. I remember but one Pun in all the Evangely, and that was
made by his and our master: Thou art Peter (that is Doctor Rock) and
upon this rock will I build &c.; which sanctifies Punning with me
against all gainsayers. I never knew an enemy to puns, who was not an
ill-natured man.

Your fair critic in the coach reminds me of a Scotchman who assured me
that he did not se