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Recipient:
Benjamin Bailey (1791-1853) was a student at Oxford when he and Keats
became friends. The friendship ended when Bailey, after passionately
courting Marianne Reynolds, married Hamilton Gleig instead. The
marriage may have been determined by his career; Gleig was the daughter of
the bishop of Brechin and Bailey was a country parson. Keats's last
letter to Bailey was an achingly polite congratulations on his wedding.
Introduction: This letter informs Bailey of George Keats's
decision to emigrate to America. Keats also discusses his literary
apathy.
Hampstead, Thursday -
My dear Bailey,
I should have answered your letter on the moment - if I could have said yes
to your invitation. What hinders me is insuperable; I will tell it
at a little length. You know my Brother George has been out of employ for
some time. it has weighed very much upon him, and driven him to scheme and
turn over things in his Mind. the result has been his resolution to
emigrate to the back settlements of America, become farmer and work with
his own hands after purchacing 1400 hundred Acres of the American
Government. This for many reasons has met with my entire consent-and
the chief one is this-he is of too independant and liberal a Mind to get
on in trade in this Country-in which a generous Ma(n) with a: scanty
recourse must be ruined. I would, -' sooner he should till the
ground than bow to a Customer- there is no choice with him; he could not
bring himself to the latter-I would not consent to his going alone - no;
but that objection is done away with-he will marry before he sets sail a
young Lady he has known some years-of a nature liberal and highspirited
enough to follow him to the Banks of the Mississipi. He will set off
in a month or six weeks, and you will see how I should wish to pass that
time with him-and then I must set out on a journey of my own - Brown and I
are going a pedestrian tour through the north of England and Scotland as
far a[s] John 0 Grots. I have this morning such a Lethargy that I
cannot write - the reason of my delaying is oftentimes from this feeling
-- I wait for a proper temper-Now you ask for an immediate answer I do not
like to wait even till tomorrow-However I am now so depressed that I have
not an Idea to put to paper--my hand feels like lead-and yet it is and
unpleasant numbness it does not take away the pain of existence - I don't
know what to write-Monday - You see how I have delayed-and even now I have
but a confused idea of what I should be about my intellect must be in a
degen[er]ating state - it must be for when I should writing about god
knows what I am troubling you with Moods of my own Mind or rather body -
for Mind there is none. I am in that temper that if I were under
Water I would, scarcely kick to come to the top-I know very well 't is all
nonsense. In a short time I hope I shall be in a temper to fell [for feel] sensibly your mention of my Book - in vain have I waited till
Monday to have any interest in that or in any thing else. I feel no
spur at my Brothers going to America and am almost stony-hearted about his
wedding. All this will blow over - all I am sorry for is having to
write to you in such a time - but I cannot force my letters in a hot 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 my rational debt -
There is a comfort in throwing oneself on the charity of ones friends - 't is like the albatros 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 suffic[i]ent to rouse me-what I
said is true and I have dreamt of your mention of it and m(y) not
a[n]swering it has weighed on me since - If I com(e,) I will bring your
Letter and hear more fully your sentiments on one or two points. I
will call about the Lectures at Taylors 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 analize, and to discover whether a little more
knowledge has not made us more ignorant -
Your's affectionately
John Keats
Notes: William
Hazlitt was a literary critic; Thomas Barnes was editor of The Times;
David Wilkie was a painter.
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