this, hinted, that he had broken the heart of his first wife by cruelty and infidelity.

"Shame on the man," said Lord Byron, when told of this circumstance, "who could wound an already bleeding heart-be barbarous enough to revive the memory of a fatal event that Shelley was perfectly innocent of, and found scandal on falsehood! What! have the audacity to confess that he had for ten years treasured up some observations of Shelley's, made at his own table!"

Though Shelley had treated the reviews with contempt, as coming from anonymous libellers, this letter, coming from one from whom he had every right to expect at least the civilities of social intercourse, affected him keenly, and for some time revived in all its bitterness a sorrow which, as we have seen, at one time nigh overwhelmed him.

Whether Southey, by this means, increased the respect likely to be entertained for him, I leave the world to judge.

One of the reminiscences he had picked up in travel was the result of a freak on the part of Shelley, certainly not to be commended; nor

did it merit all the malevolence it seemed to excite in Southey's mind.

When Shelley was in Switzerland, after a visit to Montanvert, and the Mer de Glace, he had, as is the custom, signed his name in the book at the Chalet; and, after it, had added the word αθεος.

His fatal propensity for shocking people has been already noticed; and it is one sincerely to be regretted. He injured and misrepresented himself thereby; for never was there a more reverent believer in the existence of a Supreme Being than Shelley; and if such a signature meant anything, it was an unbelief in what he considered the vulgar notion of a God, which appeared to him too often that of a Jupiter seated on Olympus, rather than that of an allwise, All-beneficent Being, such as Shelley loved in his loftiest aspirations to contemplate him, the pervading Spirit of the universe.

CHAPTER XVI.

A romantic picture-Removal to Pisa-Nature of the Poet's studies at this period-His continued ill-health -Captain Medwin at Pisa-Animal magnetism-Its effect on Shelley-The Poet's youthful appearance— His intimacy with Vacca.

THE baths of San Giuliano being but a summer resort, Shelley returned into the town of Pisa, to pass the winter; to this, however, he was impelled earlier than he had intended, by an accident.

His house, situated immediately on the banks of the Serchio, was suddenly inundated by the overflowing of the river; its waters rose rapidly, and the square of the baths was soon flooded, the doors of his house were burst open, and the next morning, the inundation having still

increased, the whole of the first floor was under water.

The poet was repaid for the destruction of his household goods by the picturesque scene which followed this not uncommon occurrence in a mountainous country.

The peasants were constrained to remove their cattle from the plains to the hills above the baths, and, it being night-time, a fire was kept up and the Contadine bore torches to guide them across the ford. Shelley watched this proceeding from his window with intense delight.

The groups of cattle, the shouts of the drivers, the picturesque dresses of the women, half immersed in water, on which the red glare of the lights reflected, the dark mountains in the back. ground, standing out in bold relief, formed an animated and most romantic picture.

The next morning he, together with his wife and family, was obliged to get out of the window, that being the only egress, into a boat, and proceeded at once to Pisa, where, it appears, he had already taken an apartment.

The more stationary mode of life Shelley now

followed had the great advantage of gathering round him by degrees an esteemed circle of friends, who knew how to appreciate his exalted talents, and to admire his character. Such associations became more and more necessary to dispel the clouds of melancholy that sometimes darkened his fine intellect.

The persevering malice of his detractors could not but have its due effect; and constant ill health, and the terrible languor and exhaustion, both to mind and body, which it naturally produces, was gradually telling upon his constitution. It had already obliterated much of the buoyancy of his more vigorous youth.

His hitherto multifarious studies were considerably relaxed, and were now almost limited to a few favourite authors, whose productions he continued to read with still increasing delight.

Since his mastery of the Spanish language, which seemed to throw open to him the portals of a new intellectual paradise, Calderon had become his constant companion. In a letter of this period he says—

"I am bathing myself in the light and odour

VOL. II.

L