pay this tribute to his lost friend, and sincerely regret that the
volume which I edit has not been honoured by its insertion.

The comparative solitude in which Mr. Shelley lived was the occasion
that he was personally known to few; and his fearless enthusiasm in the
cause which he considered the most sacred upon earth, the improvement of
the moral and physical state of mankind, was the chief reason why he,
like other illustrious reformers, was pursued by hatred and calumny. No
man was ever more devoted than he to the endeavour of making those
around him happy; no man ever possessed friends more unfeignedly
attached to him. The ungrateful world did not feel his loss, and the gap
it made seemed to close as quickly over his memory as the murderous sea
above his living frame. Hereafter men will lament that his transcendent
powers of intellect were extinguished before they had bestowed on them
their choicest treasures. To his friends his loss is irremediable: the
wise, the brave, the gentle, is gone for ever! He is to them as a bright
vision, whose radiant track, left behind in the memory, is worth all the
realities that society can afford. Before the critics contradict me, let
them appeal to any one who had ever known him. To see him was to love
him: and his presence, like Ithuriel's spear, was alone sufficient to
disclose the falsehood of the tale which his enemies whispered in the
ear of the ignorant world.

His life was spent in the contemplation of Nature, in arduous study, or
in acts of kindness and affection. He was an elegant scholar and a
profound metaphysician; without possessing much scientific knowledge, he
was unrivalled in the justness and extent of his observations on natural
objects; he knew every plant by its name, and was familiar with the
history and habits of every production of the earth; he could interpret
without a fault each appearance in the sky; and the varied phenomena of