And equally, of course, he deserved to pay dearly for the 'unfortunate occurrence.' Positively this story is told in proof that young Bysshe Shelley was a youth of parts, genius, and exceeding sweetness of disposition. A boy (probably fifteen years old, possibly a year older by this time) is caught in his bedroom doing what he has been forbidden to do. Coming upon the boy when he is so occupied, his tutor says, somewhat angrily, 'What are you doing?' Instead of answering this by no means impertinent question in the respectful tone required by mere good breeding, the boy answers 'cheekily' (the Shelleyan enthusiasts must pardon me for using a schoolboy's word, to describe the schoolboy's misdemeanour), 'I am raising the devil.' On seeing his tutor approach a powerfully charged electric battery, with outstretched hand, instead of crying out 'Don't touch it, sir; it will do you injury,' the boy ('the young experimentalist!'), holding his tongue, allows his tutor to touch the machine, and to be thrown violently against a wall. Lady Shelley would have us think this 'young experimentalist' a nice, loyal, fine-natured, gentlemanly boy; would have us join in a shout of derision at 'one of the dullest men of the establishment;' would have us think this pleasant boy badly treated, because he was whipt for his misbehaviour. I cannot do as Lady Shelley would have me. On the contrary, knowing the temper and gracious qualities of public schoolboys, I have no doubt they will, for the most and best part, concur with me in saying, that Shelley (superb poet though he became in later time) behaved badly in this business, and deserved all that he 'caught' from Dr. Keate for unruliness, so wholly 'out of form.'