assistance, influence, or counsel of Hunt, or any one else, "I refused," he writes to Mr. Bailey, (Oct. 8th), "to visit Shelley, that I might have my own unfettered scope;" and proceeds to transcribe some reflections on his undertaking, which he says he wrote to his brother George in the spring, and which are well worth the repetition.

"As to what you say about my being a Poet, I can return no answer but by saying that the high idea I have of poetical fame makes me think I see it towering too high above me. At any rate I have no right to talk until 'Endymion' is finished. It will be a test, a trial of my powers of imagination, and chiefly of my invention—which is a rare thing indeed -by which I must make 4000 lines of one bare circumstance, and fill them with poetry. And when I consider that this is a great task, and that when done it will take me but a dozen paces towards the Temple of Fame-it makes me say 'God forbid that I should be without such a task!' I have heard Hunt say, and [I] may be asked, Why endeavour after a long poem?' To which I should answer, 'Do not the lovers of poetry like to have a little region to wander in, where they may pick and choose, and in which the images are so numerous that many are forgotten and found new in a second reading,—which

may be food for a week's stroll in the summer?' Do not they like this better than what they can read through before Mrs. Williams comes down stairs?— a morning's work at most.

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Besides, a long poem is a test of invention, which I take to be the polar star of poetry, as Fancy is the sails, and Imagination the rudder. Did our great poets ever write short pieces? I mean, in the shape of Tales. This same invention seems indeed of late years to have been forgotten in a partial excellence. But enough of this-I put on no laurels till I shall have finished Endymion,' and I hope Apollo is not enraged at my having made mockery of him at Hunt's."

The conclusion of this letter has now a more melancholy meaning than it had when written. "The little mercury I have taken has corrected the poison and improved my health-though I feel from my employment that I shall never again be secure in robustness. Would that you were as well as

"Your sincere friend and brother,

"Brothers" they were in affection and in thought -brothers also in destiny. Mr. Bailey died soon after Keats.

[Post-mark, 22 Nov. 1817. LEATHERHEAD.]

MY DEAR BAILEY,

I will get over the first part of this (unpaid) letter as soon as possible, for it relates to

cutting. What occasions the greater part of the

world's quarrels ?

Simply this: two minds meet,

and do not understand each other time enough to prevent any shock or surprise at the conduct of either party. As soon as I had known

three

days, I had got enough of his character not to have been surprised at such a letter as he has hurt you with. Nor, when I knew it, was it a principle with me to drop his acquaintance; although with you it would have been an imperious feeling. I wish you knew all that I think about Genius and the Heart. And yet I think that you are thoroughly acquainted with my innermost breast in that respect, or you would not have known me even thus long, and still hold me worthy to be your dear friend. In passing, however, I must say of one thing that has pressed upon me lately, and increased my humility and capability of submission-and that is this truthMen of genius are great as certain ethereal chemicals operating on the mass of neutral intellect—but they

have not any individuality, any determined character. I would call the top and head of those who have a proper self, Men of Power.

But I am running my head into a subject which I am certain I could not do justice to under five years' study, and three vols. octavo-and moreover [I] long to be talking about the Imagination: so, my dear Bailey, do not think of this unpleasant affair, if possible do not-I defy any harm to come of it -I shall write to this week, and request him to tell me all his goings-on, from time to time, by letter, wherever I may be. It will go on well— so don't, because you have discovered a coldness in

suffer yourself to be teased. Do not, my dear fellow. O! I wish I was as certain of the end of all your troubles as that of your momentary start about the authenticity of the Imagination. I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of Imagination. What the Imagination seizes as Beauty must be Truth, whether it existed before or not; for I have the same idea of all our passions as of Love: they are all, in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty. In a word, you may know my favourite speculation by my first book, and the little song I sent in my last, which is a representation from the fancy of the probable mode of operating in these matters. The Imagination may

be compared to Adam's dream: he awoke and found it truth. I am more zealous in this affair, because I have never yet been able to perceive how anything can be known for truth by consecutive reasoning,— and yet [so] it must be. Can it be that even the greatest philosopher ever arrived at his goal without putting aside numerous objections? However it may be, O for a life of sensations rather than of thoughts! It is 66 a Vision in the form of Youth," a shadow of reality to come and this consideration has further convinced me,-for it has come as auxiliary to another favourite speculation of mine,-that we shall enjoy ourselves hereafter by having what we called happiness on earth repeated in a finer tone. And yet such a fate can only befall those who delight in Sensation, rather than hunger, as you do, after Truth. Adam's dream will do here, and seems to be a conviction that Imagination and its empyreal reflection is the same as human life and its spiritual repetition. But, as I was saying, the simple imaginative mind may have its rewards in the repetition of its own silent working coming continually on the spirit with a fine suddenness. To compare great things with small, have you never, by being surprised with an old melody, in a delicious place, by a delicious voice, felt over again your very speculations and surmises at the time it first operated on your