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AS A

PHILOSOPHER AND REFORMER.

BY

CHARLES SOTHERAN.

INCLUDING AN ORIGINAL SONNET

BY

GHArles W. FREDERICKSON,

TOGETHER WITH

A PORTRAIT OF SHELLEY AND A VIEW OF HIS TOMB.

“ Let us see the Truth, whatever that '

may be.”-Shelley, 1822.

NEW YORK:

CHARLES P. SOMERBY, 139 EIGHTH STREET.

1876.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by

CHARLES SOTHERAN, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

EDWARD O. JENKINS,

PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER,

20 North William Street, N. Y

TO

CHARLES WILLIAM FREDERICKSON,

OF NEW YORK.

DEAR FRIEND:

As in ancient times, none were allowed participation in the Higher , Mysteries, without having proved their fitness for the reception of esoteric truth, so in these days only those seem to be permitted to breathe the hidden essence in Shelley, who have realized the acute phases of spiritality. Among the few who have enjoyed these bi-fold gifts, none have had more fortuitous experience than yourself, to whom I now take the liberty of dedicating

this volume.

Yours fraternally,

CHARLES SOTHERAN.

December, 1875.

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VIEW OF SHELLEY'S TOMB, IN THE PROTESTANT CEMETERY, AT ROME.

.

FROM A SKETCH BY A. J. STRUTT.

!

“To see the sun shining on its bright grass, and hear the whispering of the wind among the leaves of the trees, which have overgrown the tomb of Cestins, and the soil whi stirring in the sun-warm earth, and to mark the tombs, mostly of women and young children, who, buried there, we might, if we were to die, desire a sleep they seem to sleep."-SHELLEY.

To the Memory

OF

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY,

BY

CHARLES W. FREDERICKSON.

Amid the ruins of majestic Rome,

That told the story of its countless years,

I stood, and wondered by the silent dust
Of the “Eternal Child.” Oh, Shelley !

To me it was not given to know thy face,

Save through the mirrored pages of thy works;

Those whisper'd words of wood and wave, are to mine ears,

Sweet as the music of ocean's roar, that breaks on sheltered shores.
Thy sterner words of Justice, Love and Truth,
Will to the struggling soul a beacon prove,
And barrier against the waves of tyranny and craft.
Then rest, Cor Cordiuin,and though thy life
Was brief in point of years, its memory will outlive

The column'd monuments around thy tomb.

NEW YORK, Nov. 25, 1875. MY DEAR SOTHERAN :

The copy of the lines on our Beloved.Poet, which you requested, are entirely at your service--make what use of them you please,

Yours, sincerely,

C. W. FREDERICKSON.

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