How did the outspoken and truth-loving Shelley act when the Master, taking the tract from his pocket, inquired whether he wrote it? Did he, in a manner becoming a martyr for the truth's sake, reply, 'Yes, sir, I wrote the pamphlet, and it declares faithfully my sincere convictions'? Did he in a manner suitable to a gentleman (interrogated by his collegiate superiors on a matter about which they had a clear right to question him, and about which they were bound to question him) answer frankly, 'Yes, sir, and I am prepared to take the consequences of my act'? Not a bit of it. The frank, outspoken, fearless Shelley shuffled and quibbled like an attorney's copying-clerk. He asked the Master's purpose in putting the question. He told the Master to produce his evidence. He blustered about the injustice and illegality of the Master's proceedings. Then, losing his temper, he became abusive. He accused the Master (who was only doing his duty) of tyranny, injustice, and vulgar violence. He asked for the production of evidence, demanded a formal trial, and yet refused to plead 'Not Guilty.' All that is known respecting what passed between the Master and Fellows on the one hand, and the contumacious undergraduate on the other hand, within the four walls of the common-room, comes to us from Shelley himself, by way of Hogg's pen. One would fain have a more reliable witness. But in default of better testimony, we must be content with the report of Shelley's evidence against himself. It had been arranged between the two friends that Hogg should come to Shelley's rooms at an unusually early hour on the Lady-day of 1811. In accordance with this appointment, Hogg (little imagining what was even then going on in the common-room) entered his friend's apartment, whilst the latter was with 'the dons,' or on his way back from his interview with them. In a minute Shelley rushed into the room, terribly agitated.