Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (286 page)

"Who
is
that?"
I
asked.

"That,"
said
my
guide,
"is
the
statue
erected
in
memory
of
a
poet who
died
fighting
for
the
cause
of
royalty,
order,
and
the
fleur-de-lis against
the
hosts
of
anarchy
and
murder
in
France
during
the
great Jacobin
War.
He
was
killed
fighting
on
the
barricades
in
Paris.
He showed
great
promise
as
a
writer.
His
name
was
William
Wordsworth."

Just
then
we
passed
a
dignified-looking
old
gentleman
with
white hair
dressed
in
the
fashion
of
an
earlier
period.
He
wore
a
blue
swallow-tailed
coat,
a
buff
nankeen
waistcoat,
and
a
fob
with
many
seals hanging
from
it.
He
was
a
dignified
and
picturesque
figure.
He stooped
slightly.
His
eyes
were
those
of
a
mathematician
or
an
inventor.
There
was
an
air
of
great
distinction
about
him,
not
un-mingled
with
a
whiff
of
scholarship.
I
asked
my
guide
who
he
was.

"That,"
he
answered,
"is
the
Conservative
Member
for
Horsham, Sir
Percy
Shelley."

"The
son
of
the
poet?"
I
asked.

"Oh
dear,
no,"
said
my
guide.
"His
father
was
not
a
poet.
His
father was
a
squire,
Sir
Timothy
Shelley.
It
is
true
that
Sir
Percy
did
write some
verse
as
a
youth,
but
we
never
refer
to
that
now.
I
assure
you nobody
ever
refers
to
it.
Boyish
peccadilloes.
Very
regrettable,
as
they were
atheistic,
often
heathen
in
tone,
and
sometimes
even
licentious
in character.
But
boys
will
be
boys,
and
the
young
must
sow
their
wild oats.
He
has
amply
atoned
for
all
that.
Fortunately
few
of
those
early effusions
were
printed,
and
Sir
Percy
was
able
to
withdraw
from
circulation
and
to
destroy
every
single
copy
of
that
most
deplorable
doggerel.
Sir
Percy
is
one
of
the
pillars
of
the
Conservative
Party,
and
the speech
he
made
against
Reform
and
the
Extension
of
Suffrage
Bill
is a
classic.
He
is
a
great
patriot,
is
Sir
Percy,
and
he
wrote
some
stirring words
about
the
war
which
were
published
in
The
Times
newspaper, and
then
set
to
music
and
enjoyed
a
wide
popularity. "The
refrain
ran:

We
don't
want
to
fight, But
Zeus
help
them
if
we
do.

You
see,
Sir
Percy
is
a
classical
scholar
and
can
never
resist
a
Greek word.
He
never
quotes
Greek
in
the
House,
but
Horace
is
always
upon his
lips.
Horace,
as
he
rightly
says,
is
so
quotable." "Then
he
never
writes
now?"
I
asked.

"He
occasionally
writes
to
The
Times
newspaper,"
said
my
guide.
"You
see,"
he
went
on,
"he
is
a
very
busy
man,
chairman
of
many
committees,
and
one
of
the
most
prominent
members
of
the
Conserv-
ative
Club,
and
on
the
boards
of
I
don't
know
how
many
hospitals
and
charitable
institutions.
He
plays
a
fair
hand
at
whist,
and
always
rides
to
the
meet
of
the
foxhounds
if
it
is
not
too
far
off,
and
he
is
a
sound
and
earnest
Churchman
---
"