In respect to a part of what he says of the freckles in Shelley's skin, Hogg is corroborated in a remarkable manner by Medwin, who (his inaccuracy notwithstanding) was generally right in the main facts, and not always wrong in the details of his statements. 'He,' Medwin says of Shelley's shooting in the winter of 1809 and the autumn of 1810, 'had during September often carried a gun in his father's preserves; Sir Timothy being a keen sportsman, and Shelley himself an excellent shot, for I well remember on one day in the winter of 1809, when we were out together, his killing, at three successive shots, three snipes, to my great astonishment and envy, at the tail of the pond in front of Field Place.' The three successive and successful shots are good examples of the small incidents likely to live in a sportsman's memory. What old sportsman, with snow upon his head, cannot remember quite as vividly just as small matters, that occurred long since on the moors or during a run across country? Another of the small matters of Hogg's _Life_, that unquestionably lived in his memory. He remembered how, in the early morning at the close of Shelley's first visit to his rooms, after 'lighting' the poet downstairs with the stump of a candle, he 'soon heard him running through the quiet quadrangle in the still night,'--adding in the words of truth's own music, 'That sound became afterwards so familiar to my ear, that I still seem to hear Shelley's hasty steps.' The evidence is clear that whilst Shelley, the freshman (ever a feminine creature on one side of his nature), regarded Hogg as an exemplary scholar, great thinker, and worthy leader,--the self-sufficient, hard-headed, cynical, humorous youngster from the North of England regarded Shelley as a delightful plaything, a brilliant absurdity, a piquant joke. When the 'reading man,' who rose from his bed every morning as the clock struck seven, had spent the first six hours of the day in strenuous study and attendance at lectures, he went to his 'young friend' for diversion, never before one o'clock, oftener when the clock had struck two p.m. It amused the north-countryman, as he lay back in the easiest chair of his young friend's well-furnished and disorderly room, to watch his young friend work fiercely at the handle of his electrical machine, till the crackling and snapping sparks flew forth viciously; to see the youngster's long locks bristle and dishevel into wildness, surpassing their usual disorder; to observe the animation of his countenance, the singular brightness of his prominent blue eyes, and to hear him talk volubly for half-hours together, in the thin shrill voice that often screamed as harshly as the voice of a highly excited parrot, about the blessings that would flow from chemistry to the ill-fed, ill-clad, ill-treated toilers of the human race.