this time you have seen Cain, and will agree with us in thinking it his finest production. Of some works one says one has thought of such things, though one could not have expressed them so well. It is not thus with Cain. One has, perhaps, stood on the extreme verge of such ideas, and from the midst of the darkness which had surrounded us the voice of the poet now is heard, telling a wondrous tale.

"Our friends in Greece are getting on famously. All the Morea is subdued, and much treasure was acquired with the capture of Tripoliza. Some cruelties have ensued; but the oppressor must in the end buy tyranny with blood; such is the law of necessity. The young Greek Prince you saw at our house is made the head of the Provisional Government in Greece. He has sacrificed his whole fortune to his country; and, heart and soul, is bent upon her cause.

"You will be glad to hear that Shelley's health is much improved this winter. He is not quite well, but he is much better. The air of Pisa is so mild and delightful, and the exercise on horseback agrees with him particularly. Williams, also, is quite recovered. We think that we may probably spend next summer at La Spezzia at least, I hope that we

shall be near the sea.

"The clock strikes twelve. I have taken to sit up rather late this last month, and, when all the world is in bed or asleep, find a little of that solitude one cannot get in a town through the day. Yet daylight brings with it all the delights of a town residence, and all the delights of friendly and social intercourse - few of the pains; for my horizon is so contracted that it shuts most of those out.

"Most sincerely yours,

"MARY W. S."

CHAPTER XII.

THE BAY OF SPEZZIA.

THE end now rapidly approaches. We have arrived at the year which saw the close of Shelley's short life; but a few minor incidents remain to be recorded before we stand in the presence of death.

The winter of 1822 was spent at Pisa. Shelley, during part of the time, was engaged on the dramatic fragment, Charles the First —a subject which he had at one time proposed to Mrs. Shelley; but, being dissatisfied with the progress he was making, he threw aside the conception, and devoted his thoughts to a mystical poem in the terza rima, called the Triumph of Life-also left incomplete, and the last of his long productions. He likewise, about the same time, made several translations from Goethe, Calderon, Homer, &c., with a view to their publication in the Liberal.

In the January of this year, or towards the end of the previous December, Shelley became acquainted with Mr. Trelawny, who called on him at Pisa, and who, in his recently published Recollections of the last Days of Shelley and Byron, has given an interesting account of his introduction. It was dusk when he arrived at the poet's

residence, and through the open door of the room he observed a pair of glittering eyes. Mrs. Williams, who lived in the same house, exclaimed, " Come in, Shelley; it's only our friend Tre, just arrived." Thus encouraged, the poet glided in, in some confusion, but holding out both his hands cordially. He was habited in a jacket, which he seemed to have outgrown, and which added to his juvenile appearance. A book was in his hand, which proved to be Calderon's Magico Prodigioso; and, being asked to read some passages, he made an extempore rendering of several parts with marvellous ease and rapidity, accompanying his translation by a masterly analysis of the genius of the author, and a lucid interpretation of the story. Suddenly he disappeared; and Mrs. Williams, in answer to the astonishment of Mr. Trelawny, said, "Oh, he comes and goes like a spirit; no one knows when or where." Shelley, however, had simply gone to fetch his wife. From this time until the poet's death, Mr. Trelawny was on intimate terms with him.

Mrs. Shelley's opinion of their new friend may be gathered from an entry in her journal, under date January 19th, 1822:

"Trelawny is extravagant - partly natural, and partly, perhaps, put on; but it suits him well; and, if his abrupt, but not unpolished, manners be assumed, they are nevertheless in unison with his Moorish face (for he looks Oriental, though not Asiatic), his dark hair, his Herculean form. And then there is an air of extreme goodnature, which pervades his whole countenance, especially

when he smiles, good.

ones

which assures me that his heart is

He tells strange stories of himself.

horrific

so that they harrow one up; while with his emphatic, but unmodulated, voice, his simple, yet strong language, he portrays the most frightful situations. Then, all these adventures took place between the ages of thirteen and twenty. I believe them now I see the man; and, tired with the every-day sleepiness of human intercourse, I am glad to meet with one who, among other valuable qualities, has the rare merit of interesting my imagination."

And, in a letter addressed to Mrs. Gisborne on the 9th of February, Mrs. Shelley says:-"Trelawny [is] a kind of half-Arab Englishman, whose life has been as changeful as that of Anastasius, and who recounts the adventures of his youth as eloquently and well as the imagined Greek. He is clever; for his moral qualities, I am yet in the dark. He is a strange web, which I am endeavoring to unravel. I would fain learn if generosity is united to impetuousness, nobility of spirit to his assumption of singularity and independence. He is six feet high; raven black hair which curls thickly and shortly like a Moor's; dark gray, expressive eyes; overhanging brows; upturned lips, and a smile which expresses goodnature and kind-heartedness. His voice is monotonous, yet emphatic; and his language, as he relates the events of his life, energetic and simple. Whether the tale be one of blood and horror, or of irresistible comedy, his company is delightful, for he excites me to think, and, if any evil share the intercourse, that time will unveil.”

It was not many months before the writer had a terrible means of judging the sterling worth and kindness of her new friend's character.

The fatal project of the boat was suggested by Mr. Trelawny very early in the year; and, on the 15th of January, as recorded in Williams's journal, the former gentleman brought with him the model of an American schooner, after which design it was proposed that a craft thirty feet long should be built. It appears, however, that ultimately a design to which Williams had taken a fancy was adopted. Mr. Trelawny at once wrote to Captain Roberts, a nautical friend, at Genoa, to commence the work directly. Shelley and Williams were to be the joint proprietors of this boat, which, when completed, was called the "Don Juan." On the passage in Williams's diary recording the discussion of the details of the project, Mrs. Shelley has written this note:

"Thus, on that night—one of gayety and thoughtlessness Jane's* and my miserable destiny was decided. We then said, laughing, to each other: 'Our husbands decide without asking our consent, or having our concurrence; for, to tell you the truth, I hate this boat, though I say nothing.' Said Jane, 'So do I; but speaking would be useless, and only spoil their pleasure.' How well I remember that night! How short-sighted we are! And now that its anniversary is come and gone, methinks I cannot be the wretch I too truly am." A mysterious intimation of the great calamity that was

Mrs. Williams.