twenty-seven. He was at the height of his fame and happiness; for had he not published two cantos of "Childe Harold," and the "Bride of Abydos," and "The Corsair "? And had he not lately won the hand of that rich heiress, and very superior woman, Miss Milbanke? He was very beautiful at the time, if we may trust this portrait as a faithful likeness. Byron pinned his own faith to it in the following letter to the artist : "GENOA, May 19th, 1823. "MY DEAR SIR: I will thank you very much to present to or obtain for the bearer a print from the miniature you drew of me in 1815. I prefer that likeness to any which has been done of me by any artist whatever. My sister, Mrs. Leigh, or the Honorable Douglas Kinnaird, will pay you the price of the engraving. Ever yours, "NOEL BYRON." The only copy of the print that I have ever seen was published on September 1, 1835, by F. G. Moon, printseller to the King, 20 Threadneedle street, from the original in the possession of the Honorable Mrs. Leigh. R. H. S. P SHELLEY'S CHILDHOOD. ERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY was born at Field His father was Timothy Shelley; his mother, a lady of rare beauty, Elizabeth, the daughter of Charles Pilfold, Esquire. They were married in the year 1791, and of this union their eldest son, Percy Bysshe, was the first child. The poet had four sisters; Elizabeth, Mary, Hellen, and Margaret, all of whom lived to be distinguished for remarkable beauty, so that it was frequently observed, very few families indeed can boast four such handsome girls!" He had only one brother, John, the youngest child. Of the earliest infancy, the babyhood, of the wonderful child we know nothing. As a boy he was gentle, affectionate, intelligent, amiable; ever loving, and universally beloved. His relatives have supplied interesting details. To give these just as they were received, will be a better illustration of the truth of things than a re-arrangement and classification of facts would afford. MY DEAREST J., [Nov., 1856.] At this distant period I can scarcely remember my first impressions of Bysshe, but he would frequently come to the nursery and was full of a peculiar kind of pranks. One piece of mischief, for which he was rebuked, was running a stick through the ceiling of a low passage to find some new chamber, which could be made effective for some flights of his vivid imagination. The tales, to which we have sat and listened, evening after evening, seated on his knee, when we came to the dining-room for dessert, were anticipated with that pleasing dread, which so excites the minds of children, and fastens so strongly and indelibly on the memory. There was a spacious garret under the roof of Field Place, and a room, which had been closed for years, excepting an entrance made by the removal of a board in the garret floor. This unknown land was made the fancied habitation of an Alchemist, old and grey, with a long beard. Books and a lamp, with all the attributes of a picturesque fancy, were poured into our listening ears. We were to go and see him " some day;" but we were content to wait, and a cave was to be dug in the orchard for the better accommodation of this Cornelius Agrippa. Another favorite theme was the "Great Tortoise," * that lived in Warnham Pond; and any unwonted noise was accounted for by the presence of this great beast, which was made into the fanciful proportions most adapted to excite awe and wonder. Bysshe was certainly fond of eccentric amusements, but they delighted us, as children, quite as much as if our minds had been naturally attuned to the same tastes; for we dressed ourselves in strange costumes to personate spirits, or fiends, and Bysshe would take a fire-stove and fill it with some inflammable liquid and carry it flaming into the kitchen and to the back-door; but discovery of this dangerous amusement soon put a stop to many repetitions. When my brother commenced * [I never heard Shelley mention the "Great Tortoise," but he spoke often of the "Great Old Snake." It was a snake of unusual magnitude, which had inhabited the garden at Field Place for several generations, and which, according to tradition, had been known, as the "Old Snake," three hundred years ago. It was killed, accidentally, through the carelessness of the gardener, in mowing the grass: killed by the same fatal instrument with which the universal destroyer, Time. kills every thing besides, by that two-handed engine, the scythe. There is so strong an affinity between serpents and all imaginative and demoniacal characters, that I cannot but regret to have entirely forgotten the legends of the "Old Snake;" narratives perfectly true, no doubt, not with the common-place truth of ordinary matters of fact, but with the far higher truth of poetical verity and mythological necessity.-H.] I his studies in chemistry, and practised electricity upon us, I confess my pleasure in it was entirely negatived by terror at its effects. Whenever he came to me with his piece of folded brown packing-paper under his arm, and a bit of wire and a bottle (if I remember right) my heart would sink with fear at his approach; but shame kept me silent, and, with as many others as he could collect, we were placed hand-in-hand round the nursery table to be electrified; but when a suggestion was made that chilblains were to be cured by this means, my terror overwhelmed all other feelings, and the expression of it released me from all future. annoyance. have heard that Bysshe's memory was singularly retentive. Even as a little child, Gray's lines on the Cat and the Gold Fish were repeated, word for word, after once reading; a fact I have frequently heard from my mother. He used, at my father's bidding, to repeat long Latin quotations, probably from some drama; for he would act, and the expression of his face and movement of his arms are distinct recollections, though the subject of his declamations was a sealed book to his infant hearers. Poor fellow! Why did he not live fifty years later when he would have been assisted by the wonderful improvements of the age in directing his gifted and inquisitive mind? MY DEAREST JANE, The tranquillity of our house must have frequently been rudely invaded by experiments, for, on one occasion, on the morning our Poet and experimentalist left home (for Eton, probably), the washing-room was discovered to have been filled with smoke, by a fire in the grate with the valve closed; the absence of draught had probably prevented mischief, but much was made of this accident, probably to deter any admiring imitators; and there might have been circumstances connected with it relating to chemical preparations, which did not reach us. My younger brother, John, was a child in petticoats, when I remember Bysshe playing with him under the fir-trees on the lawn, pushing him gently down to let him rise and beg for a succession of such falls, rolling with laughing glee on the grass; then, as a sequel to this game, the little carriage was drawn through the garden walks at the rate a big boy could draw a little one, and in an unfortunate turn the carriage was upset, and the occupant tossed into the cabbages, or strawberry bed. Screams, of course, brought sympathetic aid, and, though the child was unhurt, the boy was rebuked; and when the former was brought down after dinner, in the nurse's arms, 'Bit," (Bysshe) was apostrophised as a culprit. His great delight was to teach his infant brother schoolboy words, and his first attempt at his knowledge of the devil, was an innocent "Debbee! 66 MY DEAREST JANE, I feel more confidence in writing when I commence a page, as I have now done; and after having talked over the small things we remember of our brother, I place them on paper without chronological order; for you will readily believe that to me it would be impossible, as I do not remember even seeing him after I was eleven years of age. I went to school before Margaret, so that she recollects how Bysshe came home in the midst of the half-year to be nursed; and when he was allowed to leave the house, he came to the dining-room window, and kissed her through the pane of glass. She remembers his face there, with nose and lips pressed against the window, and at that time she must have been about five years old. In the holidays he would walk with us, if he could steal away with us; and on one occasion he walked with us through the fields to Strood; where, in those days, there was a park stile, to encourage good neighborhood: there was a sunk fence to divide the lawn from the meadows, and gates were despised, where difficulty would augment the pleasure; and we were assisted up this perpendicular wall. I was big enough to be pulled over, but Margaret was gently thrown across on the grass. Our shoes were sadly soiled, and the little one of the party was tired, and required carrying; but she was to be careful to hold her feet so that the trousers might not be damaged. This trait does not seem characteristic, but it is |