bed. I could not feel comfortable in making sentences for you. I am your debtor - I must ever remain so nor do I wish to be clear of any Rational debt: there is a comfort in throwing oneself on the charity of one's friends - 't is like the albatross sleeping on its wings. I will be to you wine in the cellar, and the more modestly, or rather, indolently, I retire into the backward bin, the more Falerne will I be at the drinking. There is one thing I must mention-my Brother talks of sailing in a fortnight- if so I will most probably be with you a week before I set out for Scotland. The middle of your first page should be sufficient to rouse me. What I said is true, and I have dreamt of your mention of it, and my not answering it has weighed on me since. If I come, I will bring your letter, and hear more fully your sentiments on one or two points. I will call about the Lectures at Taylor's, and at Little Britain, tomorrow. Yesterday I dined with Hazlitt, Barnes, and Wilkie, at Haydon's. The topic was the Duke of Wellington very amusingly pro-and-con'd. Reynolds has been getting much better; and Rice may begin to crow, for he got a little so-so at a party of his, and was none the worse for it the next morning. I hope I shall soon see you, for we must have many new thoughts and feelings to analyse, and to discover whether a little more knowledge has not made us more ignorant. Yours affectionately JOHN KEATS. 54. TO MISSES M. AND S. JEFFREY Hampstead, June 4th [1818.] MY DEAR GIRLS — I will not pretend to string a list of excuses together for not having written before - but must at once confess the indolence of my disposition, which makes a letter more formidable to me than a Pilgrimage. I am a fool in delay for the idea of neglect is an everlasting Knapsack which even now I have scarce power to hoist off. By the bye talking of everlast ing Knapsacks I intend to make my fortune by them in case of a War (which you must consequently pray for) by contracting with Government for said material to the economy of one branch of the Revenue. At all events a Tax which is taken from the people and shoulder'd upon the Military ought not to be snubb'd at. I promised to send you all the news. Harkee! The whole city corporation, with a deputation from the Fire Offices are now engaged at the London Coffee house in secret conclave concerning Saint Paul's Cathedral its being washed clean. Many interesting speeches have been demosthenized in said Coffee house as to the Cause of the black appearance of the said Cathedral. One of the veal-thigh Aldermen actually brought up three Witnesses to depose how they beheld the ci-devant fair Marble turn black on the tolling of the great Bell for the amiable and tea-table-lamented Princess adding moreover that this sort of sympathy in inanimate objects was by no means uncommon for said the Gentleman As we were once debating in the Common Hall Mr. Waithman in illustration of some case in point quoted Peter Pindar, at which the head of George the third although in hard marble squinted over the Mayor's seat at the honorable speaker so oddly that he was obliged to sit down.' However I will not tire you about these Affairs for they must be in your Newspapers by this time. You see how badly I have written these last three lines so I will remain here and take a pinch of snuff every five Minutes until my head becomes fit and proper and legitimately inclined to scribble-Oh! there's nothing like a pinch of snuff except perhaps a few trifles almost beneath a philosopher's dignity, such as a ripe Peach or a Kiss that one takes on a lease of 91 moments-on a buildling lease. Talking of that is the Capt married yet, or rather married Miss Mitchel is she stony hearted enough to hold out this season? Has the Doctor given Miss Perryman a little love powder ? — tell him Oh she must to do so. It really would not be unamusing to see her languish a little be quite melting this hot Weather. Are the little Robins weaned yet? Do they walk alone? You have had a christening a top o' the tiles and a Hawk has stood Godfather and taken the little brood under the Shadows of its Wings much in the way of Mother Church a Cat too has very tender bowels in such pathetic cases. They say we are all (that is our set) mad at Hampstead. There's George took unto himself a Wife a Week ago and will in a little time sail for America - and I with a friend am preparing for a four Months Walk all over the North- - and belike Tom will not stop here - he has been getting much better-Lord what a Journey I had and what a relief at the end of it - I'm sure I could not have stood it many more days. Hampstead is now in fine order. I suppose Teignmouth and the contagious country is now quite remarkable you might praise it I dare say in the manner of a grammatical exercise - The trees are full -the den is crowded - the boats are sailing-the musick is playing. I wish you were here a little while- but lauk we have n't got any female friend in the house. Tom is taken for a Madman and I being somewhat stunted am taken for nothing We lounge on the Walk opposite as you might on the Den — I hope the fine season will keep up your Mother's Spirits she was used to be too much down hearted. No Women ought to be born into the world for they may not touch the bottle for shame — now a Man may creep into a bung-hole However this is a tale of a tub - however I like to play upon a pipe sitting upon a puncheon and intend to be so drawn in the frontispiece to my next book of Pastorals My Brothers' respects and mine to your Mother and all our Loves to you. Yours very sincerely, JOHN KEATS. ---- - P. S. has many significations here it signifies Post Script-on the corner of a - MY DEAR BAILEY-I have been very much gratified and very much hurt by your letters in the Oxford Paper: because independent of that unlawful and mortal feeling of pleasure at praise, there is a glory in enthusiasm; and because the world is malignant enough to chuckle at the most honourable Simplicity. Yes, on my soul, my dear Bailey, you are too simple for the worldand that Idea makes me sick of it. How is it that by extreme opposites we have, as it were, got discontented nerves? You have all your life (I think so) believed everybody. I have suspected everybody. And, although you have been so deceived, you make a simple appeal - the world has something else to do, and I am glad of it — Were it in my choice, I would reject a Petrarchal coronation -on account of my dying day, and because women have cancers. I should not by rights speak in this tone to you for it is an incendiary spirit that would do so. Yet I am not old enough or magnanimous enough to annihilate self and it would perhaps be paying you an ill compliment. I was in hopes some little time back to be able to relieve your dulness by my spirits to point out things in the world worth your enjoyment — and now I am never alone without rejoicing that there is such a thing as death without placing my ultimate in the glory of dying for a great human purpose. Perhaps if my affairs were in a different state, I should not have written the above you shall judge: I have two brothers; one is driven, by the 'burden of Society,' to America; the other with an exquisite love of life, is in a linger ing state- My love for my Brothers, from the early loss of our Parents, and even from earlier misfortunes, has grown into an affection 'passing the love of women.' I have been ill-tempered with them - I have vexed them but the thought of them has always stifled the impression that any woman might otherwise have made upon me. I have a sister too, and may not follow them either to America or to the grave. Life must be undergone, and I certainly derive some consolation from the thought of writing one or two more poems before it ceases. I have heard some hints of your retiring to Scotland I shall like to know your feeling on it - it seems rather remote. Perhaps Gleig will have a duty near you. I am not certain whether I shall be able to go any journey, on account of my Brother Tom, and a little indisposition of my own. If I do not you shall see me soon, if no on my return or I'll quarter myself on you next winter. I had known my sister-in-law some time before she was my sister, and was very fond of her. I like her better and better. She is the most disinterested woman I ever knew—that is to say, she goes beyond degree in it. To see an entirely disinterested girl quite happy is the most pleasant and extraordinary thing in the world—It depends upon a thousand circumstances On my word it is extraordinary. Women must want Imagination, and they may thank God for it; and so may we, that a delicate being can feel happy without any sense of crime. It puzzles me, and I have no sort of logic to comfort me -I shall think it over. I am not at home, and your letter being there I cannot look it over to answer any particular -only I must say I feel that passage of Dante. If I take any book with me it shall be those minute volumes of Carey, for they will go into the aptest corner. Reynolds is getting, I may say, robust, his illness has been of service to him - like every one just recovered, he is high-spirited MY DEAR TAYLOR- I am sorry I have not had time to call and wish you health till my return - Really I have been hard run these last three days. However, au revoir, God keep us all well! I start tomorrow Morning. My brother Tom will I am afraid be lonely. I can scarce ask a loan of books for him, since I still keep those you lent me a year ago. If I am overweening, you will I know be indulgent. Therefore when you shall write, do send him some you think will be most amusing he will be careful in returning them. Let him have one of my books bound. I am ashamed to catalogue these messages. There is but one more, which ought to go for nothing as there is a lady concerned. I promised Mrs. Reynolds one of my books bound. As I cannot write in it let the opposite 38 be pasted in 'prythee. Remember me to Percy St.- Tell Hilton that one gratification on my return will be to find him engaged on a history piece to his own content And tell Dewint I shall become a disputant on the landscape-Bow for me very genteelly to Mrs. D. or she will not admit your diploma. Remember me to Hessey, saying I hope he 'll Cary his point. I would not forget Woodhouse. Adieu ! Your sincere friend JOHN O' GROTS. 57. TO THOMAS KEATS Keswick, June 29th [1818]. MY DEAR TOм- I cannot make my Journal as distinct and actual as I could wish, from having been engaged in writing to George, and therefore I must tell you without circumstance that we proceeded from Ambleside to Rydal, saw the Waterfalls there, and called on Wordsworth, who was not at home, nor was any one of his family. I wrote a note and left it on the mantel-piece. Thence on we came to the foot of Helvellyn, where we slept, but could not ascend it for the mist. I must mention that from Rydal we passed Thirlswater, and a fine pass in the Mountainsfrom Helvellyn we came to Keswick on Derwent Water. The approach to Derwent Water surpassed Windermere — it is richly wooded, and shut in with rich-toned Mountains. From Helvellyn to Keswick was eight miles to Breakfast, after which we took a complete circuit of the Lake, going about ten miles, and seeing on our way the Fall of Lowdore. I had an easy climb among the streams, about the fragments of Rocks and should have got I think to the summit, but unfortunately I was damped by slipping one leg into a squashy hole. There is no great body of water, but the accompaniment is delightful; for it oozes out from a cleft in perpendicular Rocks, all fledged with Ash and other beautiful trees. It is a strange thing how they got there. At the south end of the Lake, the Mountains of Borrowdale are perhaps as fine as anything we have seen. On our return from this circuit, we ordered dinner, and set forth about a mile and a half on the Penrith road, to see the Druid temple. We had a fag up hill, rather too near dinner-time, which was rendered void by the gratification of seeing those aged stones on a gentle rise in the midst of the Mountains, which at that time darkened all around, except at the fresh opening of the Vale of St. John. We went to bed rather fatigued, but not so much so as to hinder us getting up this morning to mount Skiddaw. It promised all along to be fair, and we had fagged and tugged nearly to the top, when, at half-past six, there came a Mist upon us and shut out the view. We did not, however, lose anything by it: we were high enough without mist to see the coast of Scotland-the Irish Sea - the hills beyond Lancaster and nearly all the large ones of Cumberland and Westmoreland, particularly Helvellyn and Scawfell. It grew colder and colder as we ascended, and we were glad, at about three parts of the way, to taste a little rum which the Guide brought with him, mixed, mind ye, with Mountain water. I took two glasses going and one returning. It is about six miles from where I am writing to the top - So we have walked ten miles before Breakfast to-day. We went up with two others, very good sort of fellows - All felt, on arising into the cold air, that same elevation which a cold bath gives one I felt as if I were going to a Tournament. Wordsworth's house is situated just on the rise of the foot of Mount Rydal; his parlour-window looks directly down Winandermere; I do not think I told you how fine the Vale of Grasmere is, and how I discovered the ancient woman seated on Helm Crag'- We shall proceed immediately to Carlisle, intending to enter Scotland on the 1st of July viâ [Carlisle,] July 1st. We are this morning at Carlisle. After Skiddaw, we walked to Treby the oldest market town in Cumberland where we were greatly amused by a country dancingschool holden at the Tun, it was indeed 'no new cotillon fresh from France.' No, they kickit and jumpit with mettle extraordinary, and whiskit, and friskit, and toed it, and go'd it, and twirl'd it, and whirl'd it, and stamped it, and sweated it, tattooing the floor like mad. The difference between our country dances and these Scottish figures is about the same as leisurely stirring a cup o' Tea and beating up a batterpudding. I was extremely gratified to think that, if I had pleasures they knew nothing of, they had also some into which I could not possibly enter. I hope I shall not return without having got the Highland fling. There was as fine a row of boys and girls as you ever saw; some beautiful faces, and one exquisite mouth. I never felt so near the glory of Patriotism, the glory of making by any means a country happier. This is what I like better than scenery. I fear our continued moving from place to place will prevent our becoming learned in village affairs: we are mere creatures of Rivers, Lakes, and Mountains. Our yesterday's journey was from Treby to Wigton, and from Wigton to Carlisle. The Cathedral does not appear very fine- the Castle is very ancient, and of brick. The City is very various - old white-washed narrow streets broad redbrick ones more modern - I will tell you anon whether the inside of the Cathedral is worth looking at. It is built of sandy red stone or Brick. We have now walked 114 miles, and are merely a little tired in the thighs, and a little blistered. We shall ride 38 miles to Dumfries, when we shall linger awhile about Nithsdale and Galloway. I have written two letters to Liverpool. I found a letter from sister George; very delightful indeed: I shall preserve it in the bottom of my knapsack for you. [Dumfries, evening of same day, July 1.] You will see by this sonnet ['On visiting the tomb of Burns.' See p. 120] that I am at Dumfries. We have dined in Scotland. Burns's tomb is in the Churchyard corner, not very much to my taste, though on a scale large enough to show they wanted to honour him. Mrs. Burns lives in this place; most likely we shall see her tomorrow - This Sonnet I have written in a strange mood, half-asleep. I know not how it is, the Clouds, the Sky, the Houses, all seem anti-Grecian and anti-Charlemagnish. I will endeavour to get rid of my prejudices and tell you fairly about the Scotch. [Dumfries,] July 2nd. In Devonshire they say, 'Well, where be ye going?' Here it is, 'How is it wi' yoursel?' A man on the Coach said the horses took a Hellish heap o' drivin'; the same fellow pointed out Burns's Tomb with a deal of life-There de ye see it, amang the trees — white, wi' a roond tap ?' The first well-dressed Scotchman we had any conversation with, to our surprise confessed himself a Deist. The careful manner of delivering his opinions, not before he had received several encouraging hints from us, was very amusing. Yesterday was an immense Horse-fair at Dumfries, so that we met numbers of men and women on the road, the women nearly all barefoot, with their shoes and clean stockings in hand, ready to put on and look smart in the Towns. There are plenty of wretched cottages whose smoke has no outlet but by the door. We have now begun upon Whisky, called here Whuskey, smart stuff it is. Mixed like our liquors, with sugar and water, 't is called toddy; very pretty drink, and much praised by Burns. very |