“Is it true, what Shelley writes me, that poor John Keats died at Rome of the Quarterly Review?  I am very sorry for it, though I think he took the wrong line as a poet, and was spoilt by Cockneyfying, and suburbing, and versifying Tooke’s Pantheon and Lempriere’s Dictionary.  I know, by experience, that a savage review is hemlock to a sucking author; and the one on me (which produced the English Bards, &c.) knocked me down—­but I got up again.  Instead of bursting a blood-vessel, I drank three bottles of claret, and began an answer, finding that there was nothing in the article for which I could lawfully knock Jeffrey on the head, in an honourable way.  However, I would not be the person who wrote the homicidal article for all the honour and glory in the world, though I by no means approve of that school of scribbling which it treats upon.

“You see the Italians have made a sad business of it,—­all owing to treachery and disunion amongst themselves.  It has given me great vexation.  The execrations heaped upon the Neapolitans by the other Italians are quite in unison with those of the rest of Europe.

     “Yours, &c.

“P.S.  Your latest packet of books is on its way here, but not arrived.  Kenilworth excellent.  Thanks for the pocket-books, of which I have made presents to those ladies who like cuts, and landscapes, and all that.  I have got an Italian book or two which I should like to send you if I had an opportunity.

     “I am not at present in the very highest health,—­spring probably;
     so I have lowered my diet and taken to Epsom salts.

“As you say my prose is good, why don’t you treat with Moore for the reversion of the Memoirs?—­conditionally, recollect; not to be published before decease. He has the permission to dispose of them, and I advised him to do so.”

* * * * *

LETTER 421.  TO MR. MOORE.

     “Ravenna, April 28. 1821.

“You cannot have been more disappointed than myself, nor so much deceived.  I have been so at some personal risk also, which is not yet done away with.  However, no time nor circumstances shall alter my tone nor my feelings of indignation against tyranny triumphant.  The present business has been as much a work of treachery as of cowardice,—­though both may have done their part.  If ever you and I meet again, I will have a talk with you upon the subject.  At present, for obvious reasons, I ran write but little, as all letters are opened.  In mine they shall always find my sentiments, but nothing that can lead to the oppression of others.

“You will please to recollect that the Neapolitans are nowhere now more execrated than in Italy, and not blame a whole people for the vices of a province.  That would be like condemning