His passion for boating was fostered at this time by having among our friends several sailors.  His favourite companion, Edward Ellerker Williams, of the 8th Light Dragoons, had begun his life in the navy, and had afterwards entered the army; he had spent several years in India, and his love for adventure and manly exercises accorded with Shelley’s taste.  It was their favourite plan to build a boat such as they could manage themselves, and, living on the sea-coast, to enjoy at every hour and season the pleasure they loved best.  Captain Roberts, R.N., undertook to build the boat at Genoa, where he was also occupied in building the “Bolivar” for Lord Byron.  Ours was to be an open boat, on a model taken from one of the royal dockyards.  I have since heard that there was a defect in this model, and that it was never seaworthy.  In the month of February, Shelley and his friend went to Spezia to seek for houses for us.  Only one was to be found at all suitable; however, a trifle such as not finding a house could not stop Shelley; the one found was to serve for all.  It was unfurnished; we sent our furniture by sea, and with a good deal of precipitation, arising from his impatience, made our removal.  We left Pisa on the 26th of April.

The Bay of Spezia is of considerable extent, and divided by a rocky promontory into a larger and smaller one.  The town of Lerici is situated on the eastern point, and in the depth of the smaller bay, which bears the name of this town, is the village of San Terenzo.  Our house, Casa Magni, was close to this village; the sea came up to the door, a steep hill sheltered it behind.  The proprietor of the estate on which it was situated was insane; he had begun to erect a large house at the summit of the hill behind, but his malady prevented its being finished, and it was falling into ruin.  He had (and this to the Italians had seemed a glaring symptom of very decided madness) rooted up the olives on the hillside, and planted forest trees.  These were mostly young, but the plantation was more in English taste than I ever elsewhere saw in Italy; some fine walnut and ilex trees intermingled their dark massy foliage, and formed groups which still haunt my memory, as then they satiated the eye with a sense of loveliness.  The scene was indeed of unimaginable beauty.  The blue extent of waters, the almost landlocked bay, the near castle of Lerici shutting it in to the east, and distant Porto Venere to the west; the varied forms of the precipitous rocks that bound in the beach, over which there was only a winding rugged footpath towards Lerici, and none on the other side; the tideless sea leaving no sands nor shingle, formed a picture such as one sees in Salvator Rosa’s landscapes only.  Sometimes the sunshine vanished when the sirocco raged—­the ‘ponente’ the wind was called on that shore.  The gales and squalls that hailed our first arrival surrounded the bay with foam; the howling wind swept round our exposed house, and the sea roared unremittingly, so that we almost fancied ourselves on board ship.  At other times sunshine and calm invested sea and sky, and the rich tints of Italian heaven bathed the scene in bright and ever-varying tints.