To think that I have no
right to couple myself with you in this speech would be death to me me
so I have e'en written it--and I pray God that our brazen Tombs be nigh
neighbors. It cannot be long first the endeavor of this present breath
will soon be over--and yet it is as well to breathe freely during our
sojourn--it is as well if you have not been teased with that Money
affair--that bill-pestilence. However I must think that difficulties
nerve the Spirit of a Man--they make our Prime Objects a Refuge as well
as a Passion. The Trumpet of Fame is as a tower of Strength the
ambitious bloweth it and is safe. I suppose by your telling me not to
give way to forebodings George has mentioned to you what I have lately
said in my Letters to him--truth is I have been in such a state of Mind
as to read over my Lines and hate them. I am "one that gathers Samphire
dreadful trade" the Cliff of Poesy Towers above me--yet when, Tom who
meets with some of Pope's Homer in Plutarch's Lives reads some of those
to me they seem like Mice to mine. I read and write about eight hours a
day. There is an old saying "well begun is half done" --'tis a bad one. I
would use instead--"Not begun at all till half done" so according to that
I have not begun my Poem and consequently (a priori) can say nothing
about it. Thank God! I do begin arduously where I leave off,
notwithstanding occasional depressions: and I hope for the support of a
High Power while I clime this little eminences and especially in my
Years of more momentous Labor. I remember your saying that you had
notions of a good Genius presiding over you. I have of late had the same
thought--for things which [I] do half at Random are afterwards confirmed
by my judgment in a dozen features of Propriety. Is it too daring to
Fancy Shakspeare this Presidor? When in the Isle of Whight I met with a
Shakspeare in the Passage of the House at which I lodged--it comes
nearer to my idea of him than any I have seen--I was but there a Week
yet the old Woman made me take it with me though I went off in a
hurry--Do you not think this is ominous of good? I am glad you say every
Man of great Views is at times tormented as I am--
Sunday Aft. This Morning I received a letter from George by which it
appears that Money Troubles are to follow us up for some time to come
perhaps for always--these vexations are a great hindrance to one--they
are not like Envy and detraction stimulants to further exertion as being
immediately relative and reflected on at the same time with the prime
object--but rather like a nettle leaf or two in your bed. So now I
revoke my Promise of finishing my Poem by the Autumn which I should have
done had I gone on as I have done--but I cannot write while my spirit is
fevered in a contrary direction and I am now sure of having plenty of it
this Summer. At this moment I am in no enviable Situation--I feel that I
am not in a Mood to write any to day; and it appears that the loss of it
is the beginning of all sorts of irregularities. I am extremely glad
that a time must come when every thing will leave not a wrack behind.
You tell me never to despair--I wish it was as easy for me to observe
the saying--truth is I have a horrid Morbidity of Temperament which has
shown itself at intervals--it is I have no doubt the greatest Enemy and
stumbling block I have to fear--I may even say that it is likely to be
the cause of my disappointment. However every ill has its share of
good--this very bane would at any time enable me to look with an
obstinate eye on the Devil Himself--ay to be as proud of being the
lowest of the human race as Alfred could be in being of the highest. I
feel confident I should have been a rebel Angel had the opportunity been
mine. I am very sure that you do love me as your own Brother--I have
seen it in your continual anxiety for me--and I assure you that your
wellfare and fame is and will be a chief pleasure to me all my Life. I
know no one but you who can be fully sensible of the turmoil and
anxiety, the sacrifice of all what is called comfort the readiness to
Measure time by what is done and to die in 6 hours could plans be
brought to conclusions--the looking upon the Sun the Moon the Stars, the
Earth and its contents as materials to form greater things--that is to
say ethereal things--but here I am talking like a Madman greater things
that our Creator himself made!! I wrote to Hunt yesterday--scarcly know
what I said in it. I could not talk about Poetry in the way I should
have liked for I was not in humor with either his or mine. His self
delusions are very lamentable they have inticed him into a Situation
which I should be less eager after than that of a galley Slave--what you
observe thereon is very true must be in time.
Perhaps it is a self
delusion to say so--but I think I could not be be deceived in the Manner
that Hunt is--may I die tomorrow if I am to be. There is no greater Sin
after the 7 deadly than to flatter oneself into an idea of being a great
Poet--or one of those beings who are privileged to wear out their Lives
in the pursuit of Honor--how comfortable a feel it is that such a Crime
must bring its heavy Penalty? That if one be a Selfdeluder accounts will
be balanced? I am glad you are hard at Work--t will now soon be done--I
long to see Wordsworth's as well as to have mine in: but I would rather
not show my face in Town till the end of the Year--if that will be time
enough--if not I shall be disappointed if you do not write for me even
when you think best. I never quite despair and I read Shakspeare--indeed
I shall I think never read any other Book much--Now this might lead me
into a long Confab but I desist. I am very near Agreeing with Hazlit
that Shakspeare is enough for us--By the by what a tremendous Southean
Article his last was--I wish he had left out "grey hairs" It was very
gratifying to meet your remarks of the Manuscript --I was reading
Anthony and Cleopatra when I got the Paper and there are several
Passages applicable to the events you commentate. You say that he
arrived by degrees and not by any single struggle to the height of his
ambition--and that his Life had been as common in particulars as other
Mens. Shakspeare makes Enobarb say-Where's Antony Eros--He's walking in
the garden--thus: and spurns the rush that lies before him; cries
fool, Lepidus! In the same scene we find: "let determined things to
destiny hold unbewailed their way." Dolabella says of Antony's Messenger
"An argument that he is
pluck'd when hither He sends so poor a pinion of his wing"--Then
again, Eno--"I see Men's Judgments are A parcel of their fortunes; and
things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all
alike"--The following applies well to Bertram
"Yet he that can endure
To follow with allegience a fallen Lord, Does conquer him that did his
Master conquer, And earns a place i' the story"
But how differently does
Buonap bear his fate from Antony!
'Tis good too that the Duke
of Wellington has a good Word or so in the Examiner. A Man ought to have
the Fame he deserves--and I begin to think that detracting from him as
well as from Wordsworth is the same thing. I wish he had a little more
taste--and did not in that respect "deal in Lieutenantry". You should
have heard from me before this--but in the first place I did not like to
do so before I had got a little way in the 1st Book and in the next as
G. told me you were going to write I delayed till I had hea[r]d from
you. Give my Respects the next time you write to the North and also to
John Hunt--
Remember me to Reynolds and
tell him to write--Ay, and when you sent Westward tell your Sister that
I mentioned her in this--So now in the Name of Shakespeare Raphael and
all our Saints I commend you to the care of heaven!
Your everlasting friend
John Keats--