John Keats

My dear Brothers,

I must crave your pardon for not having written ere this. I have, I know not why, been in a sort of qu[i]et, and pleased with the quietness; I scarcely remember counting upon any Happiness—I look not for it if it be not in the present hour—nothing startles me beyond the Moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights—or if a Sparrow come before my Window I take part in its existence and pick about the Gravel.

The first thing that strikes me on hearing a Misfortune having befallen another is this. “Well it cannot be helped.—he will have the pleasure of trying the resources of his spirit, and I beg now my dear Bailey that hereafter should you observe any thing cold in me not to put it to the account of heartlessness but abstraction—for I assure you I sometimes feel not the influence of a Passion or Affection during a whole week—and so long this sometimes continues I begin to suspect myself and the genuineness of my feelings at other times—thinking them a few barren Tragedy-tears.

I went to Hazlitt’s Lecture on Poetry generally—I was much disappointed, not from the matter which was good enough, but from his delivery which was not good—From want of habit he had not that readiness and flow of Language which is so much to the purpose in extempore speaking—He appeared to me to have prepared himself by reading up his subject instead of thinking about it—His delivery was hesitating, and his periods had not that roundness and flow which Hazlitt the essayist has.

I had not a dispute but a disquisition with Dilke, on various subjects; several things dovetailed in my mind, & at once it struck me, what quality went to form a Man of Achievement especially in Literature & which Shakespeare possessed so enormously—I mean Negative Capability, that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact & reason—Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half knowledge.

This pursued through Volumes would perhaps take us no further than this, that with a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.

Shelley’s poem is out & there are words about its being objected too, as much as Queen Mab was. Poor Shelley I think he has his Quota of good qualities, in sooth la!! Write soon to your most sincere friend & affectionate Brother.

Your affectionate Brother John