"I just see, by the papers of Galignani, that there is a new tragedy of great expectation, by Barry Cornwall. Of what I have read of his works Hiked the _Dramatic_ Sketches, but thought his Sicilian Story and Marcian Colonna, in rhyme, quite spoilt, by I know not what affectation of Wordsworth, and Moore, and myself, all mixed up into a kind of chaos. I think him very likely to produce a good tragedy, if he keep to a natural style, and not play tricks to form harlequinades for an audience. As he (Barry Cornwall is not his _true_ name) was a schoolfellow of mine, I take more than common interest in his success, and shall be glad to hear of it speedily. If I had been aware that he was in that line, I should have spoken of him in the preface to Marino Faliero. He will do a world's wonder if he produce a great tragedy. I am, however, persuaded, that this is not to be done by following the old dramatists,--who are full of gross faults, pardoned only for the beauty of their language,--but by writing naturally and _regularly_, and producing _regular_ tragedies, like the _Greeks_; but not in _imitation_,--merely the outline of their conduct, adapted to our own times and circumstances, and of course _no_ chorus. "You will laugh, and say, 'Why don't you do so?' I have, you see, tried a sketch in Marino Faliero; but many people think my talent '_essentially undramatic_,' and I am not at all clear that they are not right. If Marino Faliero don't fall--in the perusal--I shall, perhaps, try again (but not for the stage); and, as I think that _love_ is not the principal passion for tragedy (and yet most of ours turn upon it), you will not find me a popular writer. Unless it is love, _furious, criminal_, and _hapless_, it ought not to make a tragic subject. When it is melting and maudlin, it _does_, but it ought not to do; it is then for the gallery and second-price boxes.