at present in possession of his family,” and then proceeds thus:—­“Nothing more beautiful or characteristic ever proceeded from his pen; and they afford the most unequivocal testimony of the grief and horror occasioned by the tragical incident to which they bear reference.  Yet self-reproach formed no element of his sorrow, in the midst of which he could proudly say, ‘------, ------,’ (mentioning two dry, unbiased men of business,) ’every one, does me full justice, bears testimony to the uprightness and liberality of my conduct to her.’”

In the “Memorials” and the “Relics” there is no further allusion to the circumstances which preceded Harriet’s suicide; but it appears to me very desirable that the whole story should be brought out much more distinctly, and I can at least show why I say so.  The correspondence in question took place in the middle of December, 1816.  Shelley was married to Mary about a fortnight later; and in the most emphatic terms he alluded not only to the solace which he derived from the conversation of his host, but to the manner in which my father spoke of Mary.  My own recollection goes back to the period, and I have already testified to the state of Shelley’s mind.  He was just then instituting the process to recover the children, and he caught at an opinion that had been expressed, that, in the event of his again becoming contracted in marriage, there would be no longer any pretence to deprive him of the children.

Let me for a moment pause on this incident, as it establishes two facts of some interest.  In the first place, it shows some of the grounds of the very strong and unalterable friendship which subsisted between my father and Mary,—­a friendship which stood the test of many vicissitudes, and even of some differences of opinion; both persons being very sensitive in feeling, quick in temper, thoroughly outspoken, and obstinately tenacious of their own convictions.  Secondly, it corroborates what I have said with regard to the community of spirit that Shelley found in his real wife,—­the woman who became the companion of his fortunes, of his thoughts, of his sufferings, and of his hopes.  It will be seen, that, even before marriage with his second wife, he was counting upon Mary’s help in preventing his separation from the two children already born to him.  She was a woman uniting intellectual faculties with strong ambitions of affection as well as intellect; and esteem thus substantially shown, at that early age, by two such men as Percy Shelley and Leigh Hunt, must have conveyed the deepest gratification.

Throughout these communications Shelley evinced the strong pity that he felt for the unhappy being whom he had known.  Circumstances had come to his knowledge which had thrown considerable light upon his relations with Harriet.  There can be no doubt that one member of the family had hoped to derive gain from the connection with himself, as a person of rank and property.  There seems also reason to suppose, that, about the