Strip-At the Playhouse-doors, or anywhere. Snip So called from its size being disguised by a I suppose you will have heard that Hazlitt has on foot a prosecution against Blackwood. I dined with him a few days since at Hessey's-there was not a word said about it, though I understand he is excessively vexed. Reynolds, by what I hear, is almost over-happy, and Rice is in town. I have not seen him, nor shall I for some time, as my throat has become worse after getting well, and I am determined to stop at home till I am quite well. I was going to Town to-morrow with Mrs. D. but I thought it best to ask her excuse this morning. I wish I could say Tom was any better. His identity presses upon me so all day that I am obliged to go out —and although I intended to have given some time to study alone, I am obliged to write and plunge into abstract images to ease myself of his countenance, his voice, and feebleness so that I live now in a continual fever. must be poisonous to life, although I feel well. Imagine "the hateful siege of contraries "—if I think of fame, of poetry, it seems a crime to me, and yet I must do so or suffer. I am sorry to give you pain-I am almost resolved to burn this—but I really have not self-possession and magnanimity enough to manage the thing otherwise -after all it may be a nervousness proceeding from the Mercury. It Bailey I hear is gaining his spirits, and he will yet be what I once thought impossible, a cheerful Man-I think he is not quite so much spoken of in Little Britain. I forgot to ask Mrs. Dilke if she had anything she wanted to say immediately to you. This morning look'd so unpromising that I did not think she would have gonebut I find she has, on sending for some volumes of Gibbon. I was in a little funk yesterday, for I sent in an unseal'd note of sham abuse, until I recollected, from what I heard Charles say, that the servant could neither read nor write-not even to her Mother as Charles observed. I have just had a Letter from Reynolds-he is going on gloriously. The following is a translation of a line of Ronsard Love pour'd her beauty into my warm veins. You have passed your Romance, and I never gave in to it, or else I think this line a feast for one of your Lovers. How goes it with Brown? Your sincere friend JOHN KEATS. LXX. TO JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS. [Hampstead, about September 22, 1818.] My dear Reynolds-Believe me I have rather rejoiced at your happiness than fretted at your silence. Indeed I am grieved on your account that I am not at the same time happy-But I conjure you to think at Present of nothing but pleasure-"Gather the rose, etc.""-gorge the honey of life. I pity you as much that it cannot last for ever, as I do myself now drinking bitters. Give yourself up to it you cannot help it—and I have a Consolation in thinking so. I never was in love-Yet the voice and shape of a Woman has haunted me these two days 1—at such a time, when the relief, the feverous relief of Poetry seems a much less crime-This morning Poetry has conquered—I have relapsed into those abstractions which are my only life—I feel escaped from a new strange and threatening sorrow—And I am thankful for it-There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of Immortality. Poor Tom-that woman-and Poetry were ringing changes in my senses-Now I am in comparison happy— I am sensible this will distress you—you must forgive Had I known you would have set out so soon I me. 1 Miss Charlotte Cox, an East-Indian cousin of the Reynoldses— the "Charmian" described more fully in Letter LXXIII. could have sent you the 'Pot of Basil' for I had copied it out ready. Here is a free translation of a Sonnet of Ronsard, which I think will please you-I have the loan of his works—they have great Beauties. Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies, For more adornment, a full thousand years; I had not the original by me when I wrote it, and did not recollect the purport of the last lines. I should have seen Rice ere this-but I am confined by Sawrey's mandate in the house now, and have as yet only gone out in fear of the damp night.-You know what an undangerous matter it is. I shall soon be quite recovered-Your offer I shall remember as though it had even now taken place in fact—I think it cannot be. Tom is not up yet-I cannot say he is better. I have not heard from George. Your affectionate friend JOHN KEATS. LXXI. TO FANNY KEATS. [Hampstead, October 9, 1818. ] My dear Fanny-Poor Tom is about the same as when you saw him last; perhaps weaker-were it not for that I should have been over to pay you a visit these fine days. I got to the stage half an hour before it set out and counted the buns and tarts in a Pastry-cook's window and was just beginning with the Jellies. There was no one in the Coach who had a Mind to eat me like Mr. Sham-deaf. I shall be punctual in enquiring about next Thursday Your affectionate Brother JOHN. LXXII. -TO JAMES AUGUSTUS HESSEY. [Hampstead, October 9, 1818.] My dear Hessey-You are very good in sending me the letters from the Chronicle-and I am very bad in not acknowledging such a kindness sooner-pray forgive me. It has so chanced that I have had that paper every day— I have seen to-day's. I cannot but feel indebted to those Gentlemen who have taken my part-As for the rest, I begin to get a little acquainted with my own strength and weakness.-Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own Works. My own domestic criticism has given me pain without comparison beyond what Blackwood or the Quarterly could possibly inflict and also when I feel I am right, no external praise can give me such a glow as my own solitary reperception and ratification of what is fine. J. S. is perfectly right in regard to the slip-shod Endymion.1 That it is so is no fault of mine. No!-though it may sound a little paradoxical. It is as good as I had power to make it by myself—Had I been nervous about its being a perfect piece, and with that view asked advice, and trembled over every page, it would not have been written; for it is not in my nature to fumble—I will write independently.—I have written independently without Judgment. I may write independently, and with Judgment, hereafter. The Genius of Poetry must work 1 Referring to these words in John Scott's letter in his defence, Morning Chronicle, October 3, 1818 :-"That there are also many, very many passages indicating both haste and carelessness I will not deny; nay, I will go further, and assert that a real friend of the author would have dissuaded him from immediate publication." out its own salvation in a man: It cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself That which is creative must create itself—In Endymion, I leaped headlong into the sea, and thereby have become better acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice. I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest-But I am nigh getting into a rant. So, with remembrances to Taylor and Woodhouse etc. I am Yours very sincerely JOHN KEATS. LXXIII.- -TO GEORGE AND GEORGIANA KEATS. [Hampstead, October 13 or 14, 1818.] My dear George-There was a part in your Letter which gave me a great deal of pain, that where you lament not receiving Letters from England. I intended to have written immediately on my return from Scotland (which was two Months earlier than I had intended on account of my own as well as Tom's health) but then I was told by Mrs. W. that you had said you would not wish any one to write till we had heard from you. This I thought odd and now I see that it could not have been so; yet at the time I suffered my unreflecting head to be satisfied, and went on in that sort of abstract careless and restless Life with which you are well acquainted. This sentence should it give you any uneasiness do not let it last for before I finish it will be explained away to your satisfaction— I am grieved to say I am not sorry you had not Letters at Philadelphia; you could have had no good news of Tom and I have been withheld on his account from beginning these many days; I could not bring myself to say the truth, that he is no better but much worse- -However it must be told; and you must my dear Brother and Sister take example from me and bear up against any Calamity for |