o complain of Hunt's good nature, for
no one owes so much to it. Is not the vulgarity of these wretched
imitations of Lord Byron carried to a pitch of the sublime? His
indecencies, too, both against sexual nature, and against human
nature in general, sit very awkwardly upon him. He only affects the
libertine: he is, really, a very amiable, friendly, and agreeable
man, I hear. But is not this monstrous? In Lord Byron all this has
an analogy with the general system of his character, and the wit and
poetry which surround hide with their light the darkness of the thing
itself. They contradict it even; they prove that the strength and
beauty of human nature can survive and conquer all that appears most
inconsistent with it. But for a writer to be at once filthy and dull
is a crime against gods, men, and columns. For Heaven's sake do not
show this to any one but Hunt, for it would irritate the wasp's nest
of the irritable race of poets.

Where is Keats now? I am anxiously expecting him in Italy, when I
shall take care to bestow every possible attention on him. I consider
his a most valuable life, and I am deeply interested in his safety. I
intend to be the physician both of his body and his soul, to keep
the one warm, and to teach the other Greek and Spanish. I am aware,
indeed, in part, that I am nourishing a rival who will far surpass me;
and this is an additional motive, and will be an added pleasure.

We are at this moment removing from the Bagni to Pisa, for the Serchio
has broken its banks, and all the country about is under water. An old
friend and fellow-townsman of mine, Captain Medwin, is on a visit to
us at present, and we anxiously expect Keats, to whom I would write if
I knew where to address.

Adieu, my dear Marianne. Write soon; kiss all the babes for me, and
tell me news of them, and give my love to Bessy and Hunt.

To LEIGH HUNT

_A literary collaboration_

Pisa, 26 _Aug._ 1821.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

Since I last wrote to you, I have been on a visit to Lord Byron at
Ravenna. The result of this visit was a determination, on his part, to
come and live at Pisa; and I have taken the finest palace on the Lung'
Arno for him. But the material part of my visit consists in a message
which he desires me to give you, and which, I think, ought to add
to your determination--for such a one I hope you have formed--of
restoring your shattered health and spirits by a migration to these
'regions mild of calm an