TIMOTHY SHELLEY’S VIGOROUS DIALECTICS The exiles set off bag and baggage in the Oxford coach. Shelley had borrowed £20 from his booksellers, in order to pay his way in London while waiting news from his father. Every lodging which he visited with Hogg appeared to him impossible, either the street was too noisy, the district too dirty, the maid-servant too plain. Finally, the name of Poland Street reminded him of Warsaw . . . of Freedom . . . he was certain that in Poland Street any one of the rooms must be worthy of a free man’s choice, and the very first which he visited, where there was a trellised paper, vine leaves, and huge bunches of green and purple grapes, seemed to him the most beautiful room in the world. “Here we will settle down,” said he, “and begin our Oxford days over again, our readings by the fireside, our rambles, our delightful experiences. Here we will live for ever.” Nothing was wanting to his programme but the consent of the two fathers, Mr. Shelley and Mr. Hogg. * * * When Timothy Shelley heard of the events at Oxford, he was enraged beyond measure. Evidently, for a wealthy landowner, a Member of Parliament, and a J.P. for his county, it was a most disagreeable occurrence. The accusation of atheism annoyed him most, because he himself was known as a Liberal, and such advanced thought in politics required to balance it orthodoxy in religion. He sat down and wrote a solemn letter to Mr. Hogg senior, deploring “the unfortunate affair that has happened to my son and yours at Oxford,” and urging him to get his “young man home” as soon as possible. “As for me,” he added, “I shall recommend mine to read Paley’s _Natural Theology_: it is extremely applicable. I shall read it with him.” Then he wrote a second letter to his own “young man,” very strongly worded: “Though I have felt as a father and sympathized in the misfortune which your criminal opinions and improper acts have begot: yet you must know that I have a duty to perform to my own character, as well as to your young brother and sisters. Above all my feelings as a Christian require from me a firm and decided conduct toward you. “If you shall require aid or assistance from me—or any protection—you must please yourself to me: “1st. To go immediately to Field Place, and to abstain from all communication with Mr. Hogg for some considerable time. “2nd. That you shall place yourself under the care and society of such gentleman as I shall appoint and attend to his instructions and directions he shall give.” If these conditions were not accepted Timothy Shelley would abandon his son to all the misery which such wicked and diabolical opinions justly entail. Shelley’s reply was brief: “MY DEAR FATHER,