had with the Stones. I have been writing a little now and then lately but nothing to speak of-being discontented and as it were moulting. Yet I do not think I shall ever come to the rope or the Pistol, for after a day or two's melancholy, although I smoke more and more my own insufficiency-I see by little and little more of what is to be done, and how it is to be done, should I ever be able to do it. On my soul, there should be some reward for that continual "agonie ennuyeuse." I was thinking of going into Hampshire for a few days. I have been delaying it longer than I intended. You shall see me soon; and do not be at all anxious, for this time I really will do, what I never did before in my life, business in good time, and properly.-With respect to the Bondit may be a satisfaction to you to let me have it but as you love me do not let there be any mention of interest, although we are mortal men-and bind ourselves for fear of death.

Your's for ever

John Keats

LXXXII.

To BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON.

Lisson Grove North, Paddington.

My dear Haydon,

Wentworth Place.

My throat has not suffered me yet to expose myself to the night air: however I have been to town in the day time--have had several interviews with my guardian-have written him rather a plain-spoken Letterwhich has had its effect; and he now seems inclined to put no stumbling block in my way: so that I see a good prospect of performing my promise. What I should have lent you ere this if I could have got it, was belonging to poor Tom-and the difficulty is whether I am to

The manuscript bears neither date nor dated postmark; but the letter must belong I think to January 1819, by reason of the subject. The next trace we have of the correspondence between the poet and the painter is a letter from Haydon, preserved in his journal, dated the 10th of March and postmarked 1819. It has already appeared, in the main, in the Correspondence and Table Talk; but I now give it in full from the manuscript :-

My dear Keats,

I have been long, long convinced of the paltry subterfuges of conversation to weaken the effect of unwelcome truth, and have left company where truth is never found; of this be assured, effect and effect only, self-consequence and dictatorial controul, are what those love who shine in conversation, at the expense of truth, principle, and every thing else which interferes with their appetite for dominion-temporary dominion. I am most happy you approve of my last Sunday's defence, I hope you will like next equally well. My dear Keats-now I feel the want of your promised assistanceas soon as it is convenient it would indeed be a great, the greatest of blessings. I shall come and see you as soon as this contest is

inherit it before my Sister is of age; a period of six years. Should it be so I must incontinently take to Corderoy Trowsers. But I am nearly confident 'tis all a Bam. I shall see you soon-but do let me have a line to day or to morrow concerning your health and spirits. Your sincere friend

John Keats

LXXXIII.

To CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE

AND MRS. DILKE,

from Charles Armitage Brown and Keats.

Dear Dilke,

Bedhampton, 24 January 1819.

This letter is for your Wife, and if you are a Gentleman, you will deliver it to her, without reading one word further. 'read thou Squire. There is a wager depending on this.

My charming dear Mrs. Dilke,

It was delightful to receive a letter from you.-but such a letter! what presumption in me to attempt to

clear of my hands. I cannot before, every moment is so precious. -Take care of your throat, and believe me my dear fellow truly and affectionately your Friend—

B. R. Haydon.

At any rate finish your present great intention of a poem-it is as fine a subject as can be-Once more adieu.-Before the 20th if you could help me it would be nectar and manna and all the blessings of gratified thirst.

(LXXXIII) of this joint composition Keats's portion is printed in ordinary black ink-Brown's portion in blue.

answer it! Where shall I find, in my poor brain, such gibes, such jeers, such flashes of merriment? Alas! you will say, as you read me, Alas! poor Brown! quite chop fallen! But that's not true; my chops have been beautifully plumped out since I came here: my dinners have been good & nourishing, & my inside never washed by a red herring broth. Then my mind has been so happy! I have been smiled on by the fair ones, the Lacy's, the Prices, & the Mullings's, but not by the Richards's; Old Dicky has not called here during my visit, I have not seen him; the whole of the family are shuffling to carriage folks for acquaintances, cutting their old friends, and dealing out pride & folly, while we allow they have got the odd trick, but dispute their honours. I was determined to be beforehand with them, & behaved cavalierly & neglectingly to the family, & passed the girls in Havant with a slight bow.-Keats is much better, owing to a strict forbearance from a third glass of wine. He & I walked from Chichester yesterday, we were here at 3, but the Dinner was finished; a brace of Muir fowl had been dressed; I ate a piece of the breast cold, & it was not tainted; I dared not venture further. Mr. Snook was nearly turned sick by being merely asked to take a mouthful. The other brace was so high, that the cook declined preparing them for the spit, & they were thrown away. I see your husband declared them to be in excellent order; I suppose he enjoyed them in a disgusting manner,-sucking the rotten flesh off the bones, & crunching the putrid bones. Did you cat any? I hope not, for an ooman should be delicate in her food.-O you Jezabel! to sit quictly in your room, while the thieves were ransacking my house! No doubt poor Ann's throat was cut; has the Coroner sat on her yet?-Mrs. Snook says she knows how to hold a

pen very well, & wants no lessons from me; only think of the vanity of the coman! She tells me to make honourable mention of your letter which she received at Breakfast time, but how can I do so? I have not read it; & I'll lay my life it is not a tenth part so good as mine,- pshaw on your letter to her !—On Tuesday night I think you'll see me. In the mean time I'll not say a word about spasms in the way of my profession, tho' as your friend I must profess myself very sorry. Keats & I are going to call on Mr. Butler & Mr. Burton this morning, & to-morrow we shall go to Sanstead to see Mr. Way's Chapel consecrated by the two Big-wigs of Gloucestei & St. Davids. If that vile Carver & Gilder does not do me justice, I'll annoy him all his life with legal expences at every quarter, if my rent is not sent to the day, & that will not be revenge enough for the trouble & confusion he has put me to.-Mrs. Dilke is remarkably well for Mrs. Dilke in winter.-Have you heard any thing of John Blagden; he is off! want of business has made him play the fool, I am sorry-that Brown and you are getting so very witty-my modest feathered Pen frizzles like baby roast beef at making its entrance among such tantrum sentences-or rather ten senses. Brown super or supper sir named the Sleek has been getting thinner a little by pining opposite Miss Muggins-(Brown says Mullins but I beg leave to differ from him)-we sit it out till ten o'Clock-Miss M. has persuaded Brown to shave his whiskers-he came down to Breakfast like the sign of the full Moon-his Profile is quite alter'd. He looks more like an oman than I ever could think it possible—and on putting on Mrs. D's Calash the deception was complete especially as his voice is trebled by making love in the

1 Mrs. Dilke of Chichester, the mother of Keats's friend.