d more distant mountains. The peasantry are a
handsome intelligent race; and there was a gladsome sunny heaven spread
over us, that rendered home and every scene we visited cheerful and
bright. During some of the hottest days of August, Shelley made a
solitary journey on foot to the summit of Monte San Pellegrino--a
mountain of some height, on the top of which there is a chapel, the
object, during certain days of the year, of many pilgrimages. The
excursion delighted him while it lasted; though he exerted himself too
much, and the effect was considerable lassitude and weakness on his
return. During the expedition he conceived the idea, and wrote, in the
three days immediately succeeding to his return, the "Witch of Atlas".
This poem is peculiarly characteristic of his tastes--wildly fanciful,
full of brilliant imagery, and discarding human interest and passion, to
revel in the fantastic ideas that his imagination suggested.

The surpassing excellence of "The Cenci" had made me greatly desire that
Shelley should increase his popularity by adopting subjects that would
more suit the popular taste than a poem conceived in the abstract and
dreamy spirit of the "Witch of Atlas". It was not only that I wished him
to acquire popularity as redounding to his fame; but I believed that he
would obtain a greater mastery over his own powers, and greater
happiness in his mind, if public applause crowned his endeavours. The
few stanzas that precede the poem were addressed to me on my
representing these ideas to him. Even now I believe that I was in the
right. Shelley did not expect sympathy and approbation from the public;
but the want of it took away a portion of the ardour that ought to have
sustained him while writing. He was thrown on his own resources, and on
the inspiration of his own soul; and wrote because his mind overflowed,
without the hope of being appreciated. I had not the most distant wish
that he should truckle in opinion, or submit his lofty aspirations for
the human race to the low ambition and pride of the many; but I felt
sure that, if his poems were more addressed to the common feelings of
men, his proper rank among the writers of the day would be acknowledged,
and that popularity as a poet would enable his countrymen to do justice
to his character and virtues, which in those days it was the mode to
attack with the most flagitious calumnies and insulting abuse. That he
felt these things deeply cannot be doubted, tho