on; smother nothing; let us have all-fair and foul -all plain. Will the little bairn have made his entrance before you have this? Kiss it for me, and when it can first know a cheese from a caterpillar show it my picture twice a week. You will be glad to hear that Gifford's attack upon me has done me service— it has got my book among several sets, nor must I forget to mention, once more, what I suppose Haslam has told you, the present of a 251. note I had anonymously sent me. Another pleasing circumstance I may mention, on the authority of Mr. Neville, to whom I had sent a copy of "Endymion." It was lying on his cousin's table, where it had been seen by one of the Misses Porter, (of Romance celebrity,) who expressed a wish to read it; after having dipped into it, in a day or two she returned it, accompanied by the following letter:

"DEAR SIR,

66 'As my brother is sending a messenger to Esher, I cannot but make the same the bearer of my regrets for not having had the pleasure of seeing you the morning you called at the gate. I had given orders to be denied, I was so very unwell with my still adhesive cold; but had I known it was you, I should have broken off the interdict for a few minutes, to say how very much I am delighted with Endymion.' I

had just finished the poem, and have now done as you permitted, lent it to Miss Fitzgerald.

"I regret you are not personally acquainted with the author, for I should have been happy to have acknowledged to him, through the advantage of your communication, the very rare delight my sister and myself have enjoyed from this first fruits of his genius. I hope the ill-natured review will not have damped such true Parnassian fire. It ought not, for when life is granted to the possessor, it always burns its brilliant way through every obstacle. Had Chatterton possessed sufficient manliness of mind to know the magnanimity of patience, and been aware that great talents have a commission from heaven, he would not have deserted his post, and his name might have paged with Milton.

Now I feel more obliged than flattered by thisso obliged that I will not, at present, give you an extravaganza of a Lady Romance. I will be introduced to them first, if it be merely for the pleasure of writing you about them. Hunt has asked me to meet Tom Moore, so you shall hear of him also some day.

I am passing a quiet day, which I have not done for a long time, and if I do continue so, I feel I must again begin with my poetry, for if I am not in action, mind or body, I am in pain, and from that I suffer greatly by going into parties, when from the rules of society and a natural pride, I am obliged to smother my spirits and look like an idiot, because I feel my impulses, if given way to, would too much amaze them. I live under an everlasting restraint, never relieved except when I am composing, so I will write away.

Friday. I think you knew before you left England, that my next subject would be the "Fall of Hyperion." I went on a little with it last night, but it will take some time to get into the vein again. I will not give you any extracts, because I wish the whole to make an impression. I have, however, a few poems which you will like, and I will copy them out on the next sheet. I will write to Haslam this morning to know when the packet sails, and till it does I will write something every day. After that my journal shall go on like clockwork, and you must not complain of its dulness; for what I wish is to write a quantity to you, knowing well that dulness itself from me will be instructing to you. You may conceive how this not having been done has weighed upon me. I shall be better able to judge from your

next what sort of information will be of most service or amusement to you. Perhaps, as you are fond of giving me sketches of characters, you may like a little pic-nic of scandal, even across the Atlantic. Shall I give you Miss -? She is about my height, with a fine style of countenance of the lengthened sort; she wants sentiment in every feature; she manages to make her hair look well; her nostrils are very fine, though a little painful; her mouth is bad and good; her profile is better than her full face, which, indeed, is not full, but pale and thin, without showing any bone; her shape is very graceful, and so are her movements; her arms are good, her hands bad-ish, her feet tolerable. She is not seventeen, but she is ignorant; monstrous in her behaviour, flying out in all directions, calling people such names that I was forced lately to make use of the term-Minx: this is, I think, from no innate vice, but from a penchant she has for acting stylishly. I am, however, tired of such style, and shall decline any more of it. She had a friend to visit her lately; you have known plenty such-she plays the music, but without one sensation but the feel of the ivory át her fingers; she is a downright Miss, without one set-off. We hated her, and smoked her, and baited her, and, I think, drove her away. Miss thinks her a paragon of fashion, and says she is the

only woman in the world she would change persons with. What a stupe-she is as superior as a rose to a dandelion.

It is some days since I wrote the last page, but I never know; but I must write. I am looking into a book of Dubois'-he has written directions to the players. One of them is very good, "In singing, never mind the music-observe what time you please. It would be a pretty degradation indeed, if you were obliged to confine your genius to the dull regularity of a fiddler-horse-hair and cat-guts. No, let him keep your time and play your time; dodge him." I will now copy out the sonnet and letter I have spoken of. The outside cover was thus directed, "Messrs. Taylor and Hessey, Booksellers, 93, Fleet-street, London," and it contained this: 'Messrs. Taylor and Hessey are requested to forward the enclosed letter by some safe mode of conveyance to the author of 'Endymion,' who is not known at Teignmouth; or, if they have not his address, they will return the letter by post, directed as below, within a fortnight. Mr. P. Fenbank, P. O., Teignmouth, 9th November, 1818." In this sheet was enclosed the following, with a superscription, "Mr. John Keats, Teignmouth;" then came Sonnet to John Keats," which I could not copy for any in the world but you, who know that I scout " mild