"'Oh,' replied he, 'it is only an American book.'
"'Let me see it,' said Coleridge.
"He accordingly handed it to him, and Coleridge was soon buried in its pages. Mr. Morse, overcome by the fatigues of the day, soon after retired to his chamber and fell asleep.
"On awakening next morning he repaired to the sitting-room, when what was his astonishment to find it still closed, with the lights burning, and Coleridge busy with the book he had lent him the previous night.
"'Why, Coleridge,' said he, approaching him, 'have you been reading the whole night?'
"'Why,' remarked Coleridge abstractedly, 'it is not late.'
"Morse replied by throwing open the blinds and permitting the broad daylight, for it was now ten o'clock, to stream in upon them.
"'Indeed,' said Coleridge, 'I had no conception of this; but the work has pleased me exceedingly. It is admirably written; pray, who is its author?'
"He was informed that it was the production of Washington Irving. It is needless to say that, during the long residence of Irving in London, they became warm friends.
"At this period Mr. Abernethy was in the full tide of his popularity as a surgeon, and Allston, who had for some little time had a grumbling pain in his thigh, proposed to Morse to accompany him to the house of the distinguished surgeon to consult him on the cause of the ailment.