to do so. It really would not be unamusing to see her languish a little Oh she must 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 ou 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.

-

How

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. 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. Aud, 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

[June 21, 1818]. 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 88 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!

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 Mountains from 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 preju dices 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, 'tis called toddy; very pretty drink, and much praised by Burns.

58. TO FANNY KEATS

very

Dumfries, July 2nd [1818]. MY DEAR FANNY I intended to have written to you from Kirkcudbright, the town I shall be in to-morrow but I will write now because my Knapsack has worn my coat in the Seams, my coat has gone to the Tailor's and I have but one Coat to my back in these parts. I must tell you how I went to Liverpool with George and our new Sister and the Gentleman my fellow traveller through the Summer and autumn

We had a tolerable journey to Liverpool - which I left the next morning before George was up for Lancaster - Then we

We are employed in going up Mountains, looking at strange towns, prying into old ruins and eating very hearty breakfasts. Here we are full in the Midst of broad Scotch How is it a' wi' yoursel' — the Girls are walking about bare-footed and in the worst cottages the smoke finds its way out of the door. I shall come home full of news for you and for fear I should choak you by too great a dose at once I must make you used to it by a letter or two. We have been taken for travelling Jewellers, Razor sellers and Spectacle vendors because friend Brown wears a pair. The first place we stopped at with our Knapsacks contained one Richard Bradshaw, a notorious tippler. He stood in the shape of a 3 and ballanced himself as well as he could saying with his nose right in Mr. Brown's face

Do-yo-u sell spect-ta-cles?' Mr. Abbey says we are Don Quixotes tell him we are more generally taken for Pedlars. All I hope is that we may not be taken for excisemen in this whisky country. We are generally up about 5 walking before breakfast and we complete our 20 miles before dinner. Yesterday we visited Burns's Tomb and this morning the fine Ruins of Lincluden.

[Auchencairn, same day, July 2.] I had done thus far when my coat came back fortified at all points- so as we lose no time we set forth again through Galloway all very pleasant and pretty with no fatigue when one is used to it - We are in the midst of Meg Merrilies's country of whom I suppose you have heard.

[Here follow the lines, Meg Merrilies,' p. 243.] If you like these sort of ballads I will now and then scribble one for you-if I send any to Tom I'll tell him to send them to you.

[Kirkcudbright, evening of same day, July 2.] I have so many interruptions that I cannot manage to fill a Letter in one day — since I scribbled the song we have walked through a beautiful Country to Kirkeudbright-at which place I will write you a song about myself —

[Here Keats throws off the nonsense lines "There was a Naughty Boy,' given in the Appendix, p. 244.]

me

[Newton Stewart, July 4.]

My dear Fanny, I am ashamed of writing you such stuff, nor would I if it were not for being tired after my day's walking, and ready to tumble into bed so fatigued that when I am asleep you might sew my nose to my great toe and trundle me round the town, like a Hoop, without waking me. Then I get so hungry a Ham goes but a very little way and fowls are like Larks to A Batch of Bread I make no more ado with than a sheet of parliament; and I can eat a Bull's head as easily as I used to do Bull's eyes. I take a whole string of Pork Sausages down as easily as a Pen'orth of Lady's fingers. Ah dear I must soon be contented with an acre or two of oaten cake a hogshead of Milk and a Clothes-basket of Eggs morning noon and night when I get among the Highlanders. Before we see them we shall pass into Ireland and have a chat with the Paddies, and look at the Giant's Causeway which you must have heard of I have not time to tell you particularly for I have to send a Journal to Tom of whom you shall hear all particnlars or from me when I return. Since I began this we have walked sixty miles to Newton Stewart at which place I put in this Letter-to-night we sleep at Glenluce to-morrow at Portpatrick and the next day we shall cross in the passage boat to Ireland. I hope Miss Abbey has quite recovered. Present my Respects to her and to Mr. and Mrs. Abbey. God bless you.

Your affectionate Brother, JOHN. Do write me a Letter directed to Inver ness, Scotland.