TO THE FRIENDS OF A. J. DOWNING. 



STOCKHOLM, November, 1852. 



HEKE, before me, are the pages on which a noble and 

 refined spirit has breathed his mind. He is gone, he 

 breathes no more on earth to adorn and ennoble it ; but 

 in these pages his mind still speaks to us his eye, his 

 discerning spirit still guides and directs us. Thank God, 

 there is immortality even on earth ! Thank God, the work 

 of the good, the word of the noble and intelligent, has in 

 it seeds of eternal growth ! 



Friends of my friend, let us rejoice, while we weep, 

 that we still have so much of him left, so much of him 

 with us, to learn by, to beautify our homes, our loves, our 

 lives ! 



Let us be thankful that we can turn to these pages, 

 which bear his words and works, and again there enjoy his 

 conversation the peculiar glances of his mind and eye at 

 the objects of life ; let us thank the Giver of all good things 

 for the gift of such a mind as his to this imperfect world ; 

 for he understood and knew the perfect) and worked for 

 perfection wherever his word or work could reach. But 

 not as that personage ascribed to Shakspeare, to whom it 

 is said : " You seem to me somewhat surly and critical/' 



