press, were lying about the room; they treated of the history of Ireland, and of the affairs of that country. Bysshe did not say a word about Ireland; on the contrary, when I took up an ill-favored volume, and remarked, what a shockingly printed book, it is hardly legible; he gently drew it out of my hands, closed it, and laid it aside. He spoke on two subjects only; his project to come and reside in London, when we should be always with each other, and should read together every book that was ever written by man; and about the Welsh waterfalls, which I was soon to visit in company with him; and some day we must take a look at the falls of Niagara. The lovely Eliza in her languishing manner whispered to her sister, that a cerMrs. Madocks was a most delightful creature; and she had named in the course of the evening, more than once, with faint rapture, some Mr. Madocks, as the benefactor of the human species. Bysshe also informed me in confidence, that Mr. Madocks, of Tremadoc, was the true Prince of Wales, being the lineal descendant and heir-at-law of that Prince Madoc, who had been immortalized in a never-dying epic by the immortal Robert Southey. No doubt the worthy squire by genealogical syllogisms might easily by proved to be Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, and Earl of Chester, and Duke of York to boot: this would be but a modest and moderate assumption in a Welsh pedigree.

ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF SHELLEY.

I had promised to visit my young friends in their wilderness during the Spring Circuit; that is to say, at the beginning of March. It would have been a great pleasure to have met again; to have spent a few pleasant weeks with them; to have seen the famous embankment, and all the other wonders of nature and art, and to have examined in a course of long walks, in company with my friend, that part of the Principality, an interesting tract of country which I had never set eyes upon. This project was rudely and abruptly put an end to by a very remarkable incident, if incident it may be called. Although I had known Bysshe intimately for three or four years, I could

still be surprised, and I was not a little surprised by a letter which I received one morning from Harriet.

DEAR SIR,

TANYRALLT, March 3, 1813.

I have just escaped an atrocious assassination. O send the twenty pounds, if you have it! You will perhaps hear of me no more!

Your Friend,

PERCY SHELLEY.

Mr. Shelley is so dreadfully nervous to-day, from being up all night, that I am afraid what he has written will alarm you very much.

We intend to leave this place as soon as possible, as our lives are not safe as long as we remain. It is no common robber we dread, but a person who is actuated by revenge,who threatens my life and my sister's as well.

If you can send us the money, it will greatly add to our comfort,

Sir, I remain,

Your sincere Friend,

To Mr. H. T., London.

H. SHELLEY. BANGOR FERRY, March 6, 1813.

DEAR SIR,

In the first stage of our journey towards Dublin we met with your letter; the remittance rescued us from a situation of peculiar perplexity.

I am now recovered from an illness brought on by watching, fatigue, and alarm, and we are proceeding to Dublin to dissipate the unpleasing impressions associated with the scene of our alarm; we expect to be there on the 8th; you shall then hear the detail of our distresses.

The ball of the assassin's pistol (he fired at me twice) penetrated my nightgown, and pierced the wainscot. He is yet undiscovered, though not unsuspected, as you will learn from my next.

To Mr. H. T., London.

Yours faithfully,

PERCY B. SHELLEY.

MY DEAR SIR,

35 CUFF STREET, STEPHEN'S GREEN, DUBLIN, March 12, 1813.

We arrived here last Tuesday, after a most tedious passage of forty hours, during the whole of which time we were dreadfully ill. I'm afraid no diet will prevent us from the common lot of suffering when obliged to take a sea voyage.

Mr. Shelley promised you a recital of the horrible events that caused us to leave Wales. I have undertaken the task, as I wish to spare him, in the present nervous state of his health, everything that can recall to his mind the horrors of that night, which I will relate :

On the night of the 26th February, we retired to bed between ten and eleven o'clock. We had been in bed about half-anhour, when Mr. S. heard a noise proceeding from one of the parlors. He immediately went down stairs with two pistols which he had loaded that night, expecting to have occasion for them. He went into the billiard-room, when he heard footsteps retreating; he followed into another little room, which was called an office. He there saw a man in the act of quitting the room through a glass window which opened into the shrubbery; the man fired at Mr. S., which he avoided. Bysshe then fired; but it flashed in the pan. The man then knocked Bysshe down, and they struggled on the ground. Bysshe then fired his second pistol, which he thought wounded him in the shoulder, as he uttered a shriek and got up, when he said these words: "By God, I will be revenged. I will murder your wife, and will ravish your sister! By God, I will be revenged!” He then fled, as we hoped, for the night. Our servants were not gone to bed, but were just going, when this horrible affair happened. This was about eleven o'clock. We all assembled in the parlor, where we remained for two hours. Mr. S. then advised us to retire, thinking it was impossible he would make a second attack. We left Bysshe and our man-servant-who had only arrived that day, and who knew nothing of the house --to sit up. I had been in bed three hours when I heard a pistol go off. I immediately ran down stairs, when I perceived that Bysshe's flannel gown had been shot through, and the

window curtain. Bysshe had sent Daniel to see what hour it was; when he heard a noise at the window: he went there, and a man thrust his arm through the glass, and fired at him. Thank Heaven! the ball went through his gown, and he remained unhurt. Mr. S. happened to stand sideways; had he stood fronting, the ball must have killed him. Bysshe fired his pistol, but it would not go off; he then aimed a blow at him with an old sword, which we found in the house. The assassin attempted to get the sword from him, and just as he was pulling it away, Dan rushed into the room, when he made his escape. This was at four in the morning. It had been a most dreadful night; the wind was as loud as thunder, and the rain descended in torrents. Nothing has been heard of him, and we have every reason to believe it was no stranger, as there is a man of the name of Luson, who, the next morning that it happened, went and told the shop-keepers that it was a tale of Mr. Shelley's to impose upon them, that he might leave the country without paying his bills. This they believed, and none of them attempted to do anything towards his discovery. We left Tanyrallt on Sunday, and stayed, till everything was ready for our leaving the place, at the house of the SolicitorGeneral of the County, who lived seven miles from us. This Mr. Luson had been heard to say, that he was determined to drive us out of the country. He once happened to get hold of a little pamphlet which Mr. S. had printed in Dublin. This he sent up to Government; in fact, he was for ever saying something against us, and that because we were determined not to admit him to our house, because we had heard his character, and from acts of his, we found that he was malignant and cruel to the greatest degree.

We experienced pleasure in reading your letter, at the time when every one seemed to be plotting against us; when those who, a few weeks back, had been offering their services, shrunk from the task, when called upon in a moment like that.

Mr. Shelley and my sister unite with me in kind regards; whilst I remain, Yours truly,

To Mr. H. T., London.

H. SHELLEY.

DEAR SIR,

Harriet related to you the mysterious events which caused our departure from Tanyrallt. I was at that time so nervous and unsettled as to be wholly incapable of the task. By your kindness, we are relieved from all pecuniary difficulties. We only wanted a little breathing time, which the rapidity of our persecutions was unwilling to allow. I will readily repay the twenty pounds when I hear from my correspondent in London. Yours faithfully,

To Mr. H. T.

PERCY B. Shelley.

Harriet's letter to me was written from Tanyrallt, a day or two after the catastrophe; it bore an earlier date, but in other respects it was, to the best of my recollection, precisely similar, word for word, indeed, to her letter from Dublin of the 12th of March. I have been informed that she also sent to other persons a narrative of the nightly fears in the same terms, writing descriptive circulars, and dispatching them in different directions. Persons acquainted with the localities and with the circumstances, and who had carefully investigated the matter, were unanimous in the opinion that no such attempt was ever made. I never met with any person who believed in it. I have heard other histories, alike apocryphal, of attacks made by the good people of North Wales upon persons of whose sentiments, religious or political, they were supposed to disapprove; but the ale-bibbers and devourers of Welsh-rabbits are too wise, or too stolid, to care how much logic any man may chop within the Principality, or how fine he may chop it. What could the quiet, sheep-tending, mutton-eating, stockingknitting folks in a secluded corner of Carnarvonshire care about an unread and unreadable pamphlet on Catholic claims and the wrongs of Ireland, privately printed in Dublin? Apollo, the shepherd, would not credit that a simple pastoral race could murderously assault, and basely assassinate, a brother shepherd. How could the countrymen of Talliessin and the other immortal bards persecute and expel from their land of poesy and song the special favorite and pet of the