that the history of the latter was written and revised by Men interested in the
pious frauds of Religion. Yet through all this I see his splendour. Even here
though I myself am pursueing the same instinctive course as the veriest human
animal you can think of?I am however young writing at random?straining
at particles of light in the midst of a great darkness?without knowing the
bearing of any one assertion of any one opinion. Yet may I not in this be free
from sin? May there not be superior beings amused with any graceful, though
instinctive attitude my mind [may] fall into, as I am entertained with the alert
ness of a Stoat or the anxiety of a Deer? Though a quarrel in the streets is a
thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest Man
3. Transcendence of self-interest, of one's selfish 4. A weasel. instincts. 5. 'The Old Cumberland Beggar,' line 153.
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95 0 / JOHN KEATS
shows a grace in his quarrel?By a superior being our reasoning[s] may take
the same tone?though erroneous they may be fine?This is the very thing in
which consists poetry; and if so it is not so fine a thing as philosophy?For
the same reason that an eagle is not so fine a thing as a truth?Give me this
credit?Do you not think I strive?to know myself? Give me this credit?and
you will not think that on my own accou[n]t I repeat Milton's lines 'How charming is divine Philosophy
Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose
But musical as is Apollo's lute'?6 No?no for myself?feeling grateful as I do to have got into a state of mind
to relish them properly?Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced?
Even a Proverb is no proverb to you till your Life has illustrated it? * * * * * * I have been reading lately two very different books Robertson's America
and Voltaire's Siecle De Louis xiv7 It is like walking arm and arm between
Pizarro and the great-little Monarch.8 In How lementabl[e] a case do we see
the great body of the people in both instances: in the first, where Men might
seem to inherit quiet of Mind from unsophisticated senses; from uncontami
nation of civilisation; and especially from their being as it were estranged from
the mutual helps of Society and its mutual injuries?and thereby more imme
diately under the Protection of Providence?even there they had mortal pains
to bear as bad; or even worse than Baliffs,9 Debts and Poverties of civilised
Life?The whole appears to resolve into this?that Man is originally 'a poor
forked creature'1 subject to the same mischances as the beasts of the forest,
destined to hardships and disquietude of some kind or other. If he improves
by degrees his bodily accommodations and comforts?at each stage, at each
accent there are waiting for him a fresh set of annoyances?he is mortal and
there is still a heaven with its Stars abov[e] his head. The most interesting
question that can come before us is, How far by the persevering endeavours
of a seldom appearing Socrates Mankind may be made happy?I can imagine
such happiness carried to an extreme?but what must it end in??Death?
and who could in such a case bear with death?the whole troubles of life
which are now frittered away in a series of years, would the[n] be accumulated
for the last days of a being who instead of hailing its approach, would leave
this world as Eve left Paradise?But in truth I do not at all believe in this sort
of perfectibility?the nature of the world will not admit of it?the inhabitants
of the world will correspond to itself?Let the fish philosophise the ice away
from the Rivers in winter time and they shall be at continual play in the tepid
delight of summer. Look at the Poles and at the sands of Africa, Whirlpools
