to gorge wonders. However, we'll have some days together before I set out. I have many reasons for going wonder-ways: to make my winter chair free from spleen-to enlarge my vision -to escape disquisitions on Poetry and Kingston Criticism;' to promote digestion and economize shoe-leather. I'll have leather buttons and belt; and, if Brown holds his mind, over the Hills we go. If my Books will help me to it, then will I take all Europe in turn, and see the Kingdoms of the Earth and the glory of them. Tom is getting better, he hopes you may meet him at the top o' the hill. My love to your nurses. I am ever Your affectionate Friend John Keats. L. To JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS. My dear Reynolds, Teignmouth, Friday [10 April 1818]. I am anxious you should find this Preface tolerable. If there is an affectation in it 'tis natural to me. Do let the printer's devil cook it, and let me be as "the casing air." You are too good in this Matter-were I in your state, I am certain I should have no thought but of discontent and illness-I might though be taught patience: I had an idea of giving no Preface; however, don't you think this had better go? O, let it—one should not be too timid-of committing faults. 1 The reference may be to the Kingston whom Keats had met at Horace Smith's (see page 56), a Commissioner of Stamps. The climate here weighs us down completely; Tom is quite low-spirited. It is impossible to live in a country which is continually under hatches. Who would live in a region of Mists, Game Laws, indemnity Bills, &c., when there is such a place as Italy? It is said this England from its Clime produces a Spleen, able to engender the finest Sentiments, and cover the whole face of the isle with Green-so it ought, I'm sure.—I should still like the Dedication simply, as I said in my last. I wanted to send you a few songs, written in your favorite Devon-it cannot be-Rain! Rain! Rain! I am going this morning to take a facsimile of a Letter of Nelson's, very much to his honour-you will be greatly pleased when you see it-in about a week. What a spite it is one cannot get out-the little way I went yesterday, I found a lane banked on each side with store of Primroses, while the earlier bushes are beginning to leaf. I shall hear a good account of you soon. Your affectionate friend John Keats My Love to all and remember me to Taylor. 7 LI. To JOHN TAYLOR. My dear Taylor, Teignmouth, Friday [24 April 1818]. I think I did wrong to leave to you all the trouble of Endymion-But I could not help it then-another time I shall be more bent to all sorts of troubles and disagreeables. Young men for some time have an idea that such a thing as happiness is to be had, and therefore are extremely impatient under any unpleasant restraining. In time, however, of such stuff is the world about them, they know better, and instead of striving from uneasiness, greet it as an habitual sensation, a pannier which is to weigh upon them through life. And in proportion to my disgust at the task is my sense of your kindness and anxiety. The book pleased me much. It is very free from faults; and, although there are one or two words I should wish replaced, I see in many places an improvement greatly to the purpose. I think those speeches which are related—those parts where the Speaker repeats a speech, such as Glaucus's repetition of Circe's words, should have inverted commas to every line. In this there is a little confusion. If we divide the speeches into identical and related; to the former put merely one inverted comma at the beginning and another at the end; to the latter inverted commas before every line, the book will be better understood at the first glance-Look at pages 126, 127, you will find in the 3 line the beginning of a related speech marked thus "Ah! art awake-" while, at the same time, in the next page the continuation of the identical speech is marked in the same manner "young man of Latmos"you will find on the other side all the parts which should have inverted commas to every line. I was proposing to travel over the North this summer. There is but one thing to prevent me.-I know nothing -I have read nothing-and I mean to follow Solomon's directions, "Get learning-get understanding." I find earlier days are gone by-I find that I can have no enjoyment in the world but continual drinking of knowledge. I find there is no worthy pursuit but the idea of doing some good to the world. Some do it with their society-some with their wit-some with their benevo lence-some with a sort of power of conferring pleasure | and good humour on all they meet-and in a thousand ways, all dutiful to the command of great Nature-there is but one way for me. The road lies through application, study, and thought. I will pursue it; and for that end purpose retiring for some years. I have been hovering for some time between an exquisite sense of the luxurious, and a love for philosophy,—were I calculated for the former, I should be glad. But as I am not, I shall turn all my soul to the latter.-My brother Tom is getting better, and I hope I shall see both him and Reynolds better before I retire from the world. I shall see you soon, and have some talk about what books I shall take with me. Your very sincere friend John Keats Pray remember me to Hessey, Woodhouse, and Percy Street. LII. To JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS. Teignmouth, My dear Reynolds, It is an awful while since you have heard from me. “* I hope I may not be punished, when I see you well, and so anxious as you always are for me, with the remembrance of my so seldom writing when you were so horribly) confined. The most unhappy hours in our lives are those in which we recollect times past to our own blushing. If we are immortal, that must be the Hell. If I must be immortal, I hope it will be after having taken a little of "that watery labyrinth," in order to forget some of my school-boy days, and others since those. I have heard from George, at different times, how slowly you were recovering. It is a tedious thing-but all medical men will tell you how far a very gradual amendment is preferable; you will be strong after this, never fear. We are here still enveloped in clouds—I lay awake last night listening to the Rain, with a sense of being drowned and rotted like a grain of wheat. There is a continual courtesy between the Heavens and the Earth. The heavens rain down their unwelcomeness, and the Earth sends it up again to be returned tomorrow. Tom has taken a fancy to a physician here, Dr. Turton, and, I think, is getting better-therefore I shall perhaps remain here some months. I have written to George for some Books-shall learn Greek, and very likely Italian-and in other ways prepare myself to ask Hazlitt in about a year's time, the best metaphysical road I can take. For although I take Poetry to be Chief, yet there is something else wanting to one who passes his life among Books and thoughts on BooksI long to feast upon old Homer as we have upon Shakspeare, and as I have lately upon Milton. If you understood Greek, and would read me passages now and then, explaining their meaning, 'twould be, from its mistiness, perhaps, a greater luxury than reading the thing one's self. I shall be happy when I can do the same for you. I have written for my folio Shakspeare, in which there are the first few stanzas of my "Pot of Basil." I have the rest here finished, and will copy the whole out fair shortly, and George will bring it you. The compliment is paid by us to Boccace, whether we publish or no: so there is content in this world-mine is short-you must be deliberate about yours: you must not think of it till many months after you are quite well-then put your |