ABSTRACT
The greatest calamity for Keats was his being brought before the world by a set who had so much the habit of puffing each other, that every one connected with it suffered in public estimation. Hence every one was inclined to disbelieve his genius. Byron and Shelley were always sophisticating about their verses: Keats sophisticated about nothing. He had made up his mind to do great things, and when he found that by his connexion with the Examiner clique he had brought upon himself an overwhelming outcry of unjust aversion, he shrunk up into himself. John Scott, Haydon’s old and warm friend, editor of the Champion and of the London Magazine, was killed in a duel. There had been a coolness between him and Haydon for some time before the sad event. But this catastrophe broke down the pride which had kept Haydon aloof from his friend, and he thus records the impression made upon him by the funeral.
