NO traveler who has found pause, however brief, within the university city of Oxford, can have failed to visit the magnificent Shelley memorial at University College. The first impression is one of revolt against that arrogance of death which is proclaimed in every contour of the recumbent form contemptuously hurled ashore by the waves. Still grappling with the overpowering sense of death's implacable thraldom, the visitor's glance unconsciously turns upward, and is met with the triumphant quotation from the poet's "Adonais":—
'Tis death is dead: not he!
Like a flash thought is recalled from the fear of a remorseless and destroying destiny to the hope of the immanence of spiritual Life.
