Joseph Severn (1793-1879) was the son of a musician, himself beginning to practise as a painter when Keats knew him. His devoted tendance of the poet during the last sad months in Italy was the determining event of Severn's career, earning him the permanent regard and gratitude of all lovers of genius. He established himself for good in Rome, where he continued to practise his art, and was for many years English consul, and one of the most familiar figures in the society of the city. Lastly, of the poet's own relations, George Keats (1799-1842) after his brother's death continued to live at Louisville in America, where he made and lost a fortune in business before he died. His widow (born Georgiana Augusta Wylie), so often and affectionately addressed in these letters, by and by took a second husband, a Mr. Jeffrey, already mentioned as the correspondent of Lord Houghton. Frances Mary Keats (1803-1889), always called Fanny in the delightful series of letters which her brother addressed to her as a young girl,[5] in course of time married a Spanish gentleman, Senor Llanos, and lived in Madrid to a great old age. Several other members of the poet's circle enjoyed unusual length of days--Mr. William Dilke, for instance, dying a few years ago at ninety, and Mr. Gleig, long Chaplain-General of the Forces, at ninety-two. But with the death of his sister a year and a half ago, passed away probably the last survivor of those who could bear in memory the voice and features of Adonais. S. C. _May 1891._ LETTERS OF JOHN KEATS TO HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS I.--TO CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE. [London, October 31, 1816.] MY DAINTIE DAVIE--I will be as punctual as the Bee to the Clover. Very glad am I at the thoughts of seeing so soon this glorious Haydon and all his creation. I pray thee let me know when you go to Ollier's and where he resides--this I forgot to ask you--and tell me also when you will help me waste a sullen day--God 'ield you[6]-- J. K. II.--TO BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON. [London,] November 20, 1816. My dear Sir--Last evening wrought me up, and I cannot forbear sending you the following-- Yours unfeignedly, JOHN KEATS. Removed to 76 Cheapside. Great spirits now on earth are sojourning; He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing: He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: And lo!--whose stedfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. And other spirits there are standing apart Upon the forehead of the age to come; These, these will give the world another heart, And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings in the human mart? Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb.[7] III.--TO BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON. [London,] Thursday afternoon, November 20, 1816.