favourably, and I am now tolerably well, though weak from the small
quantity of food to which I am obliged to confine myself: I am sure a
mouse would starve upon it. Mrs. Wylie came yesterday. I have a very
pleasant room for a sick person. A Sofa bed is made up for me in the front
Parlour which looks on to the grass plot as you remember Mrs. Dilke's
does. How much more comfortable than a dull room up stairs, where one gets
tired of the pattern of the bed curtains. Besides I see all that
passes--for instance now, this morning--if I had been in my own room I
should not have seen the coals brought in. On Sunday between the hours of
twelve and one I descried a Pot boy. I conjectured it might be the one
o'Clock beer--Old women with bobbins and red cloaks and unpresuming
bonnets I see creeping about the heath. Gipsies after hare skins and
silver spoons. Then goes by a fellow with a wooden clock under his arm
that strikes a hundred and more. Then comes the old French emigrant (who
has been very well to do in France) with his hands joined behind on his
hips, and his face full of political schemes. Then passes Mr. David Lewis,
a very good-natured, good-looking old gentleman who has been very kind to
Tom and George and me. As for those fellows the Brickmakers they are
always passing to and fro. I mus'n't forget the two old maiden Ladies in
Well Walk who have a Lap dog between them that they are very anxious
about. It is a corpulent Little beast whom it is necessary to coax along
with an ivory-tipp'd cane. Carlo our Neighbour Mrs. Brawne's dog and it
meet sometimes. Lappy thinks Carlo a devil of a fellow and so do his
Mistresses. Well they may--he would sweep 'em all down at a run; all for
the Joke of it. I shall desire him to peruse the fable of the Boys and the
frogs: though he prefers the tongues and the Bones. You shall hear from me
again the day after to-morrow.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN KEATS.
CXXXIV.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place [February 11, 1820].
My dear Fanny--I am much the same as when I last wrote. I hope a little
more verging towards improvement. Yesterday morning being very fine, I
took a walk for a quarter of an hour in the garden and was very much
refresh'd by it. You must consider no news, good news--if you do not hear
from me the day after to-morrow.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN.
CXXXV.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place, Monday Morn.
[February 14, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--I am improving but very gradually and suspect it will be a
long while before I shall be able to walk six miles--The Sun appears half
inclined to shine; if he obliges us I shall take a turn in the garden this
morning. No one from Town has visited me since my last. I have had so many
presents of jam and jellies that they would reach side by side the length
of the sideboard. I hope I shall be well before it is all consumed. I am
vexed that Mr. Abbey will not allow you pocket money sufficient. He has
not behaved well--By detaining money from me and George when we most
wanted it he has increased our expenses. In consequence of such delay
George was obliged to take his voyage to England which will be L150 out of
his pocket. I enclose you a note--You shall hear from me again the day
after to-morrow.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN.
CXXXVI.--TO JAMES RICE.
Wentworth Place, February 16, 1820.
My dear Rice--I have not been well enough to make any tolerable rejoinder
to your kind letter. I will, as you advise, be very chary of my health
and spirits. I am sorry to hear of your relapse and hypochondriac symptoms
attending it. Let us hope for the best, as you say. I shall follow your
example in looking to the future good rather than brooding upon the
present ill. I have not been so worn with lengthened illnesses as you
have, therefore cannot answer you on your own ground with respect to those
haunting and deformed thoughts and feelings you speak of. When I have
been, or supposed myself in health, I have had my share of them,
especially within the last year. I may say, that for six months before I
was taken ill I had not passed a tranquil day. Either that gloom
overspread me, or I was suffering under some passionate feeling, or if I
turned to versify, that acerbated the poison of either sensation. The
beauties of nature had lost their power over me. How astonishingly (here I
must premise that illness, as far as I can judge in so short a time, has
relieved my mind of a load of deceptive thoughts and images, and makes me
perceive things in a truer light),--how astonishingly does the chance of
leaving the world impress a sense of its natural beauties upon us! Like
poor Falstaff, though I do not "babble," I think of green fields; I muse
with the greatest affection on every flower I have known from my
infancy--their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just
created them with a superhuman fancy. It is because they are connected
with the most thoughtless and the happiest moments of our lives. I have
seen foreign flowers in hothouses, of the most beautiful nature, but I do
not care a straw for them. The simple flowers of our Spring are what I
want to see again.
Brown has left the inventive and taken to the imitative art. He is doing
his forte, which is copying Hogarth's heads. He has just made a purchase
of the Methodist Meeting picture, which gave me a horrid dream a few
nights ago. I hope I shall sit under the trees with you again in some such
place as the Isle of Wight. I do not mind a game of cards in a saw-pit or
waggon, but if ever you catch me on a stage-coach in the winter full
against the wind, bring me down with a brace of bullets, and I promise not
to 'peach. Remember me to Reynolds, and say how much I should like to hear
from him; that Brown returned immediately after he went on Sunday, and
that I was vexed at forgetting to ask him to lunch; for as he went towards
the gate, I saw he was fatigued and hungry.
I am, my dear Rice, ever most sincerely yours
JOHN KEATS.
I have broken this open to let you know I was surprised at seeing it on
the table this morning, thinking it had gone long ago.
CXXXVII.--TO FANNY KEATS.
[February 19, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--Being confined almost entirely to vegetable food and the
weather being at the same time so much against me, I cannot say I have
much improved since I wrote last. The Doctor tells me there are no
dangerous Symptoms about me, and quietness of mind and fine weather will
restore me. Mind my advice to be very careful to wear warm cloathing in a
thaw. I will write again on Tuesday when I hope to send you good news.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXXXVIII.--TO JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS.
[February 23 or 25, 1820.]
My dear Reynolds--I have been improving since you saw me: my nights are
better which I think is a very encouraging thing. You mention your cold in
rather too slighting a manner--if you travel outside have some flannel
against the wind--which I hope will not keep on at this rate when you are
in the Packet boat. Should it rain do not stop upon deck though the
Passengers should vomit themselves inside out. Keep under Hatches from all
sort of wet.
I am pretty well provided with Books at present, when you return I may
give you a commission or two. Mr. B. C. has sent me not only his Sicilian
Story but yesterday his Dramatic Scenes--this is very polite, and I shall
do what I can to make him sensible I think so. I confess they teaze
me--they are composed of amiability, the Seasons, the Leaves, the Moons,
etc., upon which he rings (according to Hunt's expression), triple bob
majors. However that is nothing--I think he likes poetry for its own sake,
not his. I hope I shall soon be well enough to proceed with my faeries and
set you about the notes on Sundays and Stray-days. If I had been well
enough I should have liked to cross the water with you. Brown wishes you a
pleasant voyage--Have fish for dinner at the sea ports, and don't forget a
bottle of Claret. You will not meet with so much to hate at Brussels as at
Paris. Remember me to all my friends. If I were well enough I would
paraphrase an ode of Horace's for you, on your embarking in the seventy
years ago style. The Packet will bear a comparison with a Roman galley at
any rate.
Ever yours affectionately
J. KEATS.
CXXXIX.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place, Thursday.
[February 24, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--I am sorry to hear you have been so unwell: now you are
better, keep so. Remember to be very careful of your clothing--this
climate requires the utmost care. There has been very little alteration in
me lately. I am much the same as when I wrote last. When I am well enough
to return to my old diet I shall get stronger. If my recovery should be
delay'd long I will ask Mr. Abbey to let you visit me--keep up your
Spirits as well as you can. You shall hear soon again from me.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXL.--TO CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE.
[Hampstead, March 4, 1820.]
My dear Dilke--Since I saw you I have been gradually, too gradually
perhaps, improving; and though under an interdict with respect to animal
food, living upon pseudo victuals, Brown says I have pick'd up a little
flesh lately. If I can keep off inflammation for the next six weeks I
trust I shall do very well. You certainly should have been at Martin's
dinner, for making an index is surely as dull work as engraving. Have you
heard that the Bookseller is going to tie himself to the manger eat or not
as he pleases. He says Rice shall have his foot on the fender
notwithstanding. Reynolds is going to sail on the salt seas. Brown has
been mightily progressing with his Hogarth. A damn'd melancholy picture it
is, and during the first week of my illness it gave me a psalm-singing
nightmare, that made me almost faint away in my sleep. I know I am better,
for I can bear the Picture. I have experienced a specimen of great
politeness from Mr. Barry Cornwall. He has sent me his books. Some time
ago he had given his first publish'd book to Hunt for me; Hunt forgot to
give it and Barry Cornwall thinking I had received it must have thought me
a very neglectful fellow. Notwithstanding he sent me his second book and
on my explaining that I had not received his first he sent me that also. I
am sorry to see by Mrs. D.'s note that she has been so unwell with the
spasms. Does she continue the Medicines that benefited her so much? I am
afraid not. Remember me to her, and say I shall not expect her at
Hampstead next week unless the Weather changes for the warmer. It is
better to run no chance of a supernumerary cold in March. As for you, you
must come. You must improve in your penmanship; your writing is like the
speaking of a child of three years old, very understandable to its father
but to no one else. The worst is it looks well--no, that is not the
worst--the worst is, it is worse than Bailey's. Bailey's looks illegible
and may perchance be read; yours looks very legible and may perchance not
be read. I would endeavour to give you a fac-simile of your word
Thistlewood if I were not minded on the instant that Lord Chesterfield has
done some such thing to his son. Now I would not bathe in the same River
with Lord C. though I had the upper hand of the stream. I am grieved that
in writing and speaking it is necessary to make use of the same particles
as he did. Cobbett is expected to come in. O that I had two double
plumpers for him. The ministry are not so inimical to him but it would
like to put him out of Coventry. Casting my eye on the other side I see a
long word written in a most vile manner, unbecoming a Critic. You must
recollect I have served no apprenticeship to old plays. If the only copies
of the Greek and Latin authors had been made by you, Bailey and Haydon
they were as good as lost. It has been said that the Character of a Man
may be known by his handwriting--if the Character of the age may be known
by the average goodness of said, what a slovenly age we live in. Look at
Queen Elizabeth's Latin exercises and blush. Look at Milton's hand. I
can't say a word for Shakspeare's.
Your sincere friend
JOHN KEATS.
CXLI.--TO FANNY KEATS.
[March 20, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--According to your desire I write to-day. It must be but a
few lines, for I have been attack'd several times with a palpitation at
the heart and the Doctor says I must not make the slightest exertion. I
am much the same to-day as I have been for a week past. They say 'tis
nothing but debility and will entirely cease on my recovery of my strength
which is the object of my present diet. As the Doctor will not suffer me
to write I shall ask Mr. Brown to let you hear news of me for the future
if I should not get stronger soon. I hope I shall be well enough to come
and see your flowers in bloom.
Ever your most affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXLII.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place, April 1 [1820].
My dear Fanny--I am getting better every day and should think myself quite
well were I not reminded every now and then by faintness and a tightness
in the Chest. Send your Spaniel over to Hampstead, for I think I know
where to find a Master or Mistress for him. You may depend upon it if you
were even to turn it loose in the common road it would soon find an owner.
If I keep improving as I have done I shall be able to come over to you in
the course of a few weeks. I should take the advantage of your being in
Town but I cannot bear the City though I have already ventured as far as
the west end for the purpose of seeing Mr. Haydon's Picture, which is just
finished and has made its appearance. I have not heard from George yet
since he left Liverpool. Mr. Brown wrote to him as from me the other
day--Mr. B. wrote two Letters to Mr. Abbey concerning me--Mr. A. took no
notice and of course Mr. B. must give up such a correspondence when as the
man said all the Letters are on one side. I write with greater ease than I
had thought, therefore you shall soon hear from me again.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXLIII.--TO FANNY KEATS.
[April 1820.]
My dear Fanny--Mr. Brown is waiting for me to take a walk. Mrs. Dilke is
on a visit next door and desires her love to you. The Dog shall be taken
care of and for his name I shall go and look in the parish register where
he was born--I still continue on the mending hand.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXLIV.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place, April 12 [1820].
My dear Fanny--Excuse these shabby scraps of paper I send you--and also
from endeavouring to give you any consolation just at present, for though
my health is tolerably well I am too nervous to enter into any discussion
in which my heart is concerned. Wait patiently and take care of your
health, being especially careful to keep yourself from low spirits which
are great enemies to health. You are young and have only need of a little
patience. I am not yet able to bear the fatigue of coming to Walthamstow,
though I have been to Town once or twice. I have thought of taking a
change of air. You shall hear from me immediately on my moving anywhere. I
will ask Mrs. Dilke to pay you a visit if the weather holds fine, the
first time I see her. The Dog is being attended to like a Prince.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN.
CXLV.--TO FANNY KEATS.
[Hampstead, April 21, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--I have been slowly improving since I wrote last. The Doctor
assures me that there is nothing the matter with me except nervous
irritability and a general weakness of the whole system, which has
proceeded from my anxiety of mind of late years and the too great
excitement of poetry. Mr. Brown is going to Scotland by the Smack, and I
am advised for change of exercise and air to accompany him and give myself
the chance of benefit from a Voyage. Mr. H. Wylie call'd on me yesterday
with a letter from George to his mother: George is safe at the other side
of the water, perhaps by this time arrived at his home. I wish you were
coming to town that I might see you; if you should be coming write to me,
as it is quite a trouble to get by the coaches to Walthamstow. Should you
not come to Town I must see you before I sail, at Walthamstow. They tell
me I must study lines and tangents and squares and angles to put a little
Ballast into my mind. We shall be going in a fortnight and therefore you
will see me within that space. I expected sooner, but I have not been able
to venture to walk across the country. Now the fine Weather is come you
will not find your time so irksome. You must be sensible how much I regret
not being able to alleviate the unpleasantness of your situation, but
trust my dear Fanny that better times are in wait for you.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXLVI.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Wentworth Place, Thursday [May 4, 1820].
My dear Fanny--I went for the first time into the City the day before
yesterday, for before I was very disinclined to encounter the scuffle,
more from nervousness than real illness; which notwithstanding I should
not have suffered to conquer me if I had not made up my mind not to go to
Scotland, but to remove to Kentish Town till Mr. Brown returns. Kentish
Town is a mile nearer to you than Hampstead--I have been getting gradually
better, but am not so well as to trust myself to the casualties of rain
and sleeping out which I am liable to in visiting you. Mr. Brown goes on
Saturday, and by that time I shall have settled in my new lodging, when I
will certainly venture to you. You will forgive me I hope when I confess
that I endeavour to think of you as little as possible and to let George
dwell upon my mind but slightly. The reason being that I am afraid to
ruminate on anything which has the shade of difficulty or melancholy in
it, as that sort of cogitation is so pernicious to health, and it is only
by health that I can be enabled to alleviate your situation in future. For
some time you must do what you can of yourself for relief; and bear your
mind up with the consciousness that your situation cannot last for ever,
and that for the present you may console yourself against the reproaches
of Mrs. Abbey. Whatever obligations you may have had to her you have none
now, as she has reproached you. I do not know what property you have, but
I will enquire into it: be sure however that beyond the obligation that a
lodger may have to a landlord you have none to Mrs. Abbey. Let the surety
of this make you laugh at Mrs. A.'s foolish tattle. Mrs. Dilke's Brother
has got your Dog. She is now very well--still liable to Illness. I will
get her to come and see you if I can make up my mind on the propriety of
introducing a stranger into Abbey's house. Be careful to let no fretting
injure your health as I have suffered it--health is the greatest of
blessings--with _health_ and _hope_ we should be content to live, and so
you will find as you grow older.
I am, my dear Fanny, your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CXLVII.--TO CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE.
[Hampstead, May 1820].
My dear Dilke--As Brown is not to be a fixture at Hampstead, I have at
last made up my mind to send home all lent books. I should have seen you
before this, but my mind has been at work all over the world to find out
what to do. I have my choice of three things, or at least two,--South
America, or Surgeon to an Indiaman, which last, I think, will be my fate.
I shall resolve in a few days. Remember me to Mrs. D. and Charles, and
your father and mother.
Ever truly yours
JOHN KEATS.
CXLVIII.--TO JOHN TAYLOR.
[Wesleyan Place, Kentish Town][114]
June 11 [1820].
My dear Taylor--In reading over the proof of St. Agnes's Eve since I left
Fleet Street, I was struck with what appears to me an alteration in the
seventh stanza very much for the worse. The passage I mean stands thus--
her maiden eyes incline
Still on the floor, while many a sweeping train
Pass by.
'Twas originally written--
her maiden eyes divine
Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train
Pass by.
My meaning is quite destroyed in the alteration. I do not use _train_ for
_concourse of passers by_, but for _skirts_ sweeping along the floor.
In the first stanza my copy reads, second line--
bitter _chill_ it was,
to avoid the echo _cold_ in the second line.
Ever yours sincerely
JOHN KEATS.
CXLIX.--TO CHARLES BROWN.
[Wesleyan Place, Kentish Town, June 1820.]
My dear Brown--I have only been to ----'s once since you left, when ----
could not find your letters. Now this is bad of me. I should, in this
instance, conquer the great aversion to breaking up my regular habits,
which grows upon me more and more. True, I have an excuse in the weather,
which drives one from shelter to shelter in any little excursion. I have
not heard from George. My book is coming out with very low hopes, though
not spirits, on my part. This shall be my last trial; not succeeding, I
shall try what I can do in the apothecary line. When you hear from or see
---- it is probable you will hear some complaints against me, which this
notice is not intended to forestall. The fact is, I did behave badly; but
it is to be attributed to my health, spirits, and the disadvantageous
ground I stand on in society. I could go and accommodate matters if I were
not too weary of the world. I know that they are more happy and
comfortable than I am; therefore why should I trouble myself about it? I
foresee I shall know very few people in the course of a year or two. Men
get such different habits that they become as oil and vinegar to one
another. Thus far I have a consciousness of having been pretty dull and
heavy, both in subject and phrase; I might add, enigmatical. I am in the
wrong, and the world is in the right, I have no doubt. Fact is, I have had
so many kindnesses done me by so many people, that I am cheveaux-de-frised
with benefits, which I must jump over or break down. I met ---- in town, a
few days ago, who invited me to supper to meet Wordsworth, Southey, Lamb,
Haydon, and some more; I was too careful of my health to risk being out at
night. Talking of that, I continue to improve slowly, but I think surely.
There is a famous exhibition in Pall-Mall of the old English portraits by
Vandyck and Holbein, Sir Peter Lely, and the great Sir Godfrey. Pleasant
countenances predominate; so I will mention two or three unpleasant ones.
There is James the First, whose appearance would disgrace a "Society for
the Suppression of Women;" so very squalid and subdued to nothing he
looks. Then, there is old Lord Burleigh, the high-priest of economy, the
political save-all, who has the appearance of a Pharisee just rebuffed by
a Gospel bon-mot. Then, there is George the Second, very like an
unintellectual Voltaire, troubled with the gout and a bad temper. Then,
there is young Devereux, the favourite, with every appearance of as slang
a boxer as any in the Court; his face is cast in the mould of
blackguardism with jockey-plaster. I shall soon begin upon "Lucy Vaughan
Lloyd."[115] I do not begin composition yet, being willing, in case of a
relapse, to have nothing to reproach myself with. I hope the weather will
give you the slip; let it show itself and steal out of your company. When
I have sent off this, I shall write another to some place about fifty
miles in advance of you.
Good morning to you. Yours ever sincerely
JOHN KEATS.
CL.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Friday Morn [Wesleyan Place, Kentish Town,
June 26, 1820.]
My dear Fanny--I had intended to delay seeing you till a Book which I am
now publishing was out,[116] expecting that to be the end of this week
when I would have brought it to Walthamstow: on receiving your Letter of
course I set myself to come to town, but was not able, for just as I was
setting out yesterday morning a slight spitting of blood came on which
returned rather more copiously at night. I have slept well and they tell
me there is nothing material to fear. I will send my Book soon with a
Letter which I have had from George who is with his family quite well.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CLI.--TO FANNY KEATS.
Mortimer Terrace,[117] Wednesday [July 5, 1820].
My dear Fanny--I have had no return of the spitting of blood, and for two
or three days have been getting a little stronger. I have no hopes of an
entire re-establishment of my health under some months of patience. My
Physician tells me I must contrive to pass the Winter in Italy. This is
all very unfortunate for us--we have no recourse but patience, which I am
now practising better than ever I thought it possible for me. I have this
moment received a Letter from Mr. Brown, dated Dunvegan Castle, Island of
Skye. He is very well in health and spirits. My new publication has been
out for some days and I have directed a Copy to be bound for you, which
you will receive shortly. No one can regret Mr. Hodgkinson's ill fortune:
I must own illness has not made such a Saint of me as to prevent my
rejoicing at his reverse. Keep yourself in as good hopes as possible; in
case my illness should continue an unreasonable time many of my friends
would I trust for my sake do all in their power to console and amuse you,
at the least word from me--You may depend upon it that in case my strength
returns I will do all in my power to extricate you from the Abbeys. Be
above all things careful of your health which is the corner stone of all
pleasure.
Your affectionate Brother
JOHN ----.
CLII.--TO BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON.
[Mortimer Terrace, July 1820.]