Chapter LXXVIII: Letter 190: To Allsop

June 23, 1821.

My dearest Friend,

Be assured that nothing bearing a nearer resemblance to offence, whether felt or perceived, than a syllogism bears to the colour of the man in the moon's whiskers, ever crossed my brain: not even with that brisk diagonal traverse which Ghosts and apparitions always choose to surprise us in. I have _indeed_ observed _or_ fancied, that, for some time past, you have been anxious about something, have had something pressing upon your mind, which I wished _out of you_, though not particularly _to have_ it out of you. I must explain myself. Say that X. were my dearest Friend, to whom I would be as it were transparent, and have him so to me in all respects that concerned our permanent Being, and likewise in all circumstantial accidents in which we could be of service to each other. Yet there are many things that will press upon us which are our _individualities_, which one man does not feel any tendency in himself to speak of to a man, however dear or valued. X. does not think or wish to think of it when with Y., nor Y. in his turn when with X., and yet still the great law holds good--whatever vexes or depresses ought if possible to be _out_ of us. Now I say that I should rejoice if you had a female Friend--a Sister, an Aunt, or a Beloved to whom you could lay yourself open. I should further exult if your _confidante_ were _my_ Friend too, my Sister or my Wife.

God bless you.
S. T. COLERIDGE.
T. Allsop, Esq.