Chapter LXII: Letter 455: To Mr. Murray

"Ravenna, September 20. 1821.

"You need not send 'The Blues,' which is a mere buffoonery, never
meant for publication.[53]

"The papers to which I allude, in case of survivorship, are
collections of letters, &c. since I was sixteen years old,
contained in the trunks in the care of Mr. Hobhouse. This
collection is at least doubled by those I have now here, all
received since my last ostracism. To these I should wish the editor
to have access, _not_ for the purpose of _abusing confidences_, nor
of _hurting_ the feelings of correspondents living, nor the
memories of the dead; but there are things which would do neither,
that I have left unnoticed or unexplained, and which (like all such
things) time only can permit to be noticed or explained, though
some are to my credit. The task will, of course, require delicacy;
but that will not be wanting, if Moore and Hobhouse survive me,
and, I may add, yourself; and that you may all three do so, is, I
assure you, my very sincere wish. I am not sure that long life is
desirable for one of my temper and constitutional depression of
spirits, which of course I suppress in society; but which breaks
out when alone, and in my writings, in spite of myself. It has been
deepened, perhaps, by some long-past events (I do not allude to my
marriage, &c.--on the contrary, that raised them by the persecution
giving a fillip to my spirits); but I call it constitutional, as I
have reason to think it. You know, or you do _not_ know, that my
maternal grandfather (a very clever man, and amiable, I am told)
was strongly suspected of suicide (he was found drowned in the Avon
at Bath), and that another very near relative of the same branch
took poison, and was merely saved by antidotes. For the first of
these events there was no apparent cause, as he was rich,
respected, and of considerable intellectual resources, hardly forty
years of age, and not at all addicted to any unhinging vice. It
was, however, but a strong suspicion, owing to the manner of his
death and his melancholy temper. The _second had_ a cause, but it
does not become me to touch upon it: it happened when I was far too
young to be aware of it, and I never heard of it till after the
death of that relative, many years afterwards. I think, then, that
I may call this dejection _constitutional_. I had always been told
that I resembled more my maternal grandfather than any of my
_father's_ family--that is, in the gloomier part of his temper, for
he was what you call a good-natured man, and I am not.

"The Journal here I sent to Moore the other day; but as it is a
mere diary, only _parts_ of it would ever do for publication. The
other Journal, of the Tour in 1816, I should think Augusta might
let you have a copy of.

"I am much mortified that Gifford don't take to my new dramas. To
be sure, they are as opposite to the English drama as one thing can
be to another; but I have a notion that, if understood, they will
in time find favour (though _not_ on the stage) with the reader.
The simplicity of plot is intentional, and the avoidance of _rant_
also, as also the compression of the speeches in the more severe
situations. What I seek to show in 'The Foscaris' is the
_suppressed_ passions, rather than the rant of the present day. For
that matter--

"Nay, if thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou--

would not be difficult, as I think I have shown in my younger
productions--_not dramatic_ ones, to be sure. But, as I said
before, I am mortified that Gifford don't like them; but I see no
remedy, our notions on that subject being so different. How is
he?--well, I hope? let me know. I regret his demur the more that he
has been always my grand patron, and I know no praise which would
compensate me in my own mind for his censure. I do not mind
_Reviews_, as I can work them at their own weapons.

"Yours, &c.

"Address to me at _Pisa_, whither I am going. The reason is, that
all my Italian friends here have been exiled, and are met there for
the present, and I go to join them, as agreed upon, for the
winter."

[Footnote 53: This short satire, which is wholly unworthy of his pen, appeared afterwards in the Liberal.]

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