1894] Keats Memorial Ceremony 145 



George Wyndham, Hubert Howard, 



George Curzon, Godfrey Webb, 



George Peel, Mark Napier, 



George Leveson Gower, Theobald Mathew, 



Esme Howard, Charles Gatty, 



St. George Lane Fox, Laurence Currie, 

 Eddy Tennant, 



with three new members, Lord Cairns, Alfred Douglas, and Basil 

 Blackwood. 



"i^th July. — Called on Frank Lascelles, who is just starting as 

 Ambassador for St. Pettersburg. We talked over old and new times. 

 He and I were exact contemporaries, both in age and in the diplomatic 

 service, and it is just thirty years ago that we were at Madrid together 

 as attaches. Without any very special abilities he has made a rapid 

 career by hard work and good sense. We talked of the Asiatic question 

 and the Egyptian question. He does not believe in the possibility of 

 saving any part of Persia from Russia, who could take it whenever 

 she has a mind to. I walked with him to call on Staal, and left him at 

 the door. 



" 16th July. — To the Keats memorial meeting at Hampstead with 

 George Wyndham, a curious ceremony. It took place in the parish 

 church, the vicar and his choir assisting in surplices, but the proceed- 

 ings were entirely mundane. Gosse, who presided, made a dull, plati- 

 tudinous oration in the tone of a sermon (his father was a Nonconform- 

 ist lecturer), and the others were even duller. Houghton alone was 

 brief and to the point. The poet's bust was then unveiled, and through- 

 out the only allusion to religion was when one of the speakers enumer- 

 ated what Keats was not, and included in the list that he was not a re- 

 ligious propagandist. When all was over the worthy vicar consoled 

 himself with some prayers and an anthem. 



" 17^/1 July. — A brilliant luncheon with Margot and her husband at 

 30, Upper Grosvenor Street, and I took her her Wedding Ode, which 

 I had written for her amusement. The other guests were Mrs. Gren- 

 fell, Mrs. Daisy White, Ribblesdale, his brother Reggie Lister, and 

 Oscar Wilde, all immensely talkative, so that it was almost like a 

 breakfast in France. Asquith alone rather out of it. I sat next to 

 him and was rather sorry for him, though he was probably happy 

 enough. Afterwards, when the rest had gone away, Oscar remained, 

 telling stories to me and Margot." 



This is a very poor account of an interesting, and in the sequel a 

 tragic, incident which has remained strongly impressed on my mind, as 

 it was one that showed Oscar Wilde at the height of his social glory, 

 and as the last occasion on which I found myself in his company. Of 



