One of his biographers asserts that "he continued to be haunted by certain recollections, partly real and partly imaginative, which pursued him like an Orestes," and even Trelawny, who knew him only in the last months of his life, said that the impression of that dreadful moment was still vivid.

We may trace the echo of his feelings in some painfully pathetic verses written in 1817 (Forman, 3 148.); and though he did not often speak of Harriet, Peacock has recorded one memorable occasion on which he disclosed the anguish of his spirit to a friend.

(Fraser, January, 1860, page 102.) Shelley hurried at once to London, and found some consolation in the society of Leigh Hunt.

The friendship extended to him by that excellent man at this season of his trouble may perhaps count for something with those who are inclined to judge him harshly.

Two important events followed immediately upon the tragedy.