He then goes on to state that his debts amount to L600 or thereabouts, including a sum of L20 which he owed to Mr. Murray himself.  Then he must have the money necessary for his subsistence, and he “finds he cannot live on less than L400 per annum.”

“My apartments,” he continues, “decently furnished, encompass me with an atmosphere of ease and respectability; and I enjoy the illusion of not having fallen into the lowest circumstances.

I always declare that I will die like a gentleman, on a decent bed, surrounded by casts (as I cannot buy the marbles) of the Venuses, of the Apollos, and of the Graces, and the busts of great men; nay, even among flowers, and, if possible, with some graceful innocent girl playing an old pianoforte in an adjoining room.  And thus dies the hero of my novel.  Far from courting the sympathy of mankind, I would rather be forgotten by posterity than give it the gratification of ejaculating preposterous sighs because I died like Camoens and Tasso on the bed of an hospital.  And since I must be buried in your country, I am happy in having insured for me the possession during the remains of my life of a cottage built after my plan, surrounded by flowering shrubs, almost within the tumpikes of the town, and yet as quiet as a country-house, and open to the free air.  Whenever I can freely dispose of a hundred pounds, I will also build a small dwelling for my corpse, under a beautiful Oriental plane-tree, which I mean to plant next November, and cultivate con amore.  So far I am indeed an epicure; in all other things I am the most moderate of men.”

The upshot of the letter is, that he wishes Mr. Murray to let him have L1,000, to be repaid in five years, he meanwhile writing articles for the Quarterly—­one-half of the payment to be left with the publisher, and the remaining half to be added to his personal income.  He concludes: 

“In seeking out a way of salvation, I think it incumbent on me to prevent the tyranny of necessity, that I might not be compelled by it to endanger my character and the interest of a friend whose kindness I have always experienced, and whose assistance I am once more obliged to solicit.”

Mr. Murray paid off some of his more pressing embarrassments—­L30 to Messrs. Bentley for bills not taken up; L33 7_s_. to Mr. Kelly the printer; L14 to Mr. Antonini; and L50 to Foscolo’s builder—­besides becoming security for L300 to his bankers (with whom Foscolo did business), in order to ensure him a respite for six months.  On the other hand, Foscolo agreed to insure his life for L600 as a sort of guarantee.  “Was ever” impecunious author “so trusted before”?  At this crisis in his affairs many friends came about him and took an interest in the patriot; Mr. Hallam and Mr. Wilbraham offered him money, but he would not accept “gratuities” from them, though he had no objection to accepting their “loans.”  Arrangements were then made for Foscolo to deliver a series of lectures on Italian Literature.  Everything was settled, the day arrived, the room was crowded with a distinguished assembly, when at the last moment Foscolo appeared without his MS., which he had forgotten.