TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.
PORSONIANA.








RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE
Iar-lalit of Samual  Lger+
TO WHICH IS ADDED
PORSONIANA.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
846 & 848 BROADWAY.
1856.








PREFACE.
SAMUEL ROGERS was born at Stoke Newington, 30th July,
1763.  His first publication, An Ode to Superstition, with
some other Poems, appeared in 1786; at which period the
coldly classic Mason (then a veteran) and the feeble Hayley were perhaps the most popular of our living poets:
Cowper, though The Task" was in print, had scarcely
won all his fame; Crabbe had put forth only his earlier
pieces; and Darwin was yet to come. By The Pleasures
of Memory, in 1792, Mr. Rogers rose to high reputation;
which he fully maintained by his Epistle to a Friend, with
other Poems, in 1798. He gave nothing new to the public till 1812, when he added Columbust to a re-impression
* The second volume of Cowper's Poems, containing The Task, is
noticed with high praise in The Gentleman's Magazine for Dec. 1785.
f See p. 152 (note) in the present volume.




Vi                      PREFACE.
of his Poems.  It was succeeded, in 1814 by his Jacqueline, in 1819 by his Human Life, and in 1822 by the First
Part# of his Italy, which was not completed till several
years after, and which closes the series of his works.
During the long remainder of his days he confined himself
to a few copies of occasional verses, one of them composed
so late as 1853.t-Of all that Mr. Rogers has written,
The Pleasures of Memory and the Epistle to a Friend
have been generally the most admired: it is questionable,
however, if Human Life will not be regarded by posterity
as his master-piece,-as pre-eminent in feeling, in graceful
simplicity of diction, and in freedom of versification.
Mr. Rogers commenced life by performing the duties
of a clerk in his father's banking-house: but after inheriting a large share of the concern, he ceased to take an active part in its management; and, himself an object of
interest to society, he associated on familiar terms, during
more than two generations, with all who were most distinguished for rank and political influence, or most eminent
in literature and art.-Genius languishing for want. of
* Published anonymously: see Literary Gazette for January 19,
1822, where its reviewer thinks " there can be little hesitation hi ascribing it to Southey."
f See the lines, " Hence to the altar," &c., in his Poems, p. 305,
ed. 1853.




PREFACE.                     vii
patronage was sure to find in Mr. Rogers a generous patron.
His purse was ever open to the distressed:-of the prompt
assistance which he rendered in the hour of need to various well-known individuals there is ample record; but of
his many acts of kindness and charity to the wholly obscure there is no memorial-at least on earth.
The taste of Mr. Rogers had been cultivated to the
utmost refinement; and, till the failure of his mental
powers a short time previous to his death, he retained that
love of the beautiful which was in him a passion: when
more than ninety, and a prisoner to his chair, he still delighted to watch the changing colours of the evening sky,
-to repeat passages of his favourite poets,-or to dwell
on the merits of the great painters whose works adorned
his walls.-By slow decay, and without any suffering, he
died in St. James's Place, 18th December 1855.
From  my first introduction to Mr. Rogers, I was in
the habit of writing down, in all their minutiae, the anecdotes, &c. with which his conversation abounded: and
once on my telling him that I did so, he expressed himself pleased,-the rather, because he sometimes had the
mortification of finding impatient listeners. Of those memoranda, which gradually accumulated to a large mass, a
selection is contained in the following pages; the subjects
being arranged (as far as such miscellaneous matter would




Viii                  PREFACE.
admit of arrangement) under distinct heads; and nothing
having been inserted which was likely to hurt the feelings
of the living.
EDITOR.




RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE
TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.
I WAS taught by my mother, from my earliest infancy, to be tenderly kind towards the meanest living thing; and, however people may laugh, I sometimes very carefully put a stray gnat or wasp out
at the window.-My friend Lord Holland, though a
kind-hearted man, does not mind killing flies and
wasps; he says, "I have no feeling for insects."When I was on the Continent with Richard Sharp,
we one day observed a woman amusing her child by
holding what we at first thought was a mouse tied
to a string, with which a cat was playing. Sharp
was all indignation at the sight; till, on looking
more closely, he found that the supposed mouse was




2               RECOLLECTIONS OF TIHE
a small rat; upon which he exclaimed, " Oh, I have
no pity for rats! " —People choose to give the term
vermin to those animals that happen to like what
they themselves like; wasps eat peaches, and they
call them vermin.-I can hardly persuade myself
that there is no compensation in a future existence
for the sufferings of animals in the present life,*for instance, when I see a horse in the streets unmercifully flogged by its brutal driver.
I well remember one of the heads of the rebels
upon  a pole  at Temple-Bar,-a black shapeless
lump. Another pole was bare, the head having
dropt from it.t
In my childhood, after doing any thing wrong, I
used always to feel miserable from  a consciousness
* Compare a poem On the Future Existence of Brutes, by Miss
Seward,-Poet. Works, ii. 58.-ED.
t "The last heads which remained on the Bar were those of
Fletcher and Townley.'Yesterday,' says a news-writer of the 1st
of April, 1772,'one of the rebels' heads on the Temple Bar fell
down. There is only one head now remaining."' P. Cunningham's
Handbook of London, sub Temnple-Bar.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         3
of having cone it: my parents were quite aware
of this, and therefore seldom reproved me for a
fault, —leaving me to reprove myself.
When I was about thirteen, my father and mother gave a great children's ball, at which many
grown-up folks were also present. I was dancing
a minuet with a pretty little girl; and at the moment when I ought to have put on my hat and given
both hands to my partner, I threw the hat among
the young ladies who were sitting on benches, and
so produced great surprise and confusion in the
room. This strange feat was occasioned by my suddenly recollecting a story of some gallant youth
who had signalized himself in the same way.
In my boyhood, my father one day called me
and my brothers into his room, and asked us each
what professions we wished to follow. When my
turn came, I said (to my father's annoyance) that
I should like "to be a preacher;" for it was then
the height of my ambition to figure in a pulpit;I thought there was nothing on earth so grand.
This predilection, I believe, was occasioned chiefly




4            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
by the admiration I felt for Dr. Price and for his
preaching. He was our neighbour (at Newington
Green), and would often drop in, to spend the
evening with us, in his dressing-gown: he would
talk, and read the Bible, to us, till he sent us to bed
in a frame of mind as heavenly as his own. He
lived much in the society of Lord Lansdowne and
other people of rank; and his manners were extremely polished. In the pulpit he was great in
deed,-making his hearers forget the preacher and
think only of the subject. The passage " On Virtue," cited from Price in Enfield's Speaekr, is a very
favourite one with me, though probably it is quite
unknown to readers of the present day.
["IN PRAISE OF VIRTUE.
VIRTUE is of intrinsic value and good desert,
and of indispensable obligation; not the creature of
will, but necessary and immutable; not local or temporary, but of equal extent and antiquity with the
DIVINE MIND; not a mode of sensation, but everlasting TRUTH; not dependent on power, but the
guide of all power. VIRTUE is the foundation of
honour and esteem, and the source of all beauty,




'TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         5
order, and happiness in nature. It is what confers
value on all the other endowments and qualities of
a reasonable being, to which they ought to be absolutely subservient, and without which, the more
eminent they are, the more hideous deformities and
the greater curses they become. The use of it is
not confined to any one stage of our existence, or
to any particular situation we can be in, but reaches
through all the periods and circumstances of our
being. —Many of the endowments and talents we
now possess, and of which we are too apt to be
proud, will cease entirely with the present state;
but this will be our ornament and dignity in every
future state to which we may be removed. Beauty
and wit will die, learning will vanish away, and all
the arts of life be soon forgot; but virtue will remain for ever. This unites us to the whole rational
creation, and fits. us for conversing with any order
of superior natures, and for a place in any part of
God's works. It procures us the approbation and
love of all wise and good beings, and renders them
our allies and friends. —But what is of unspeakably
greater consequence is, that it makes God our friend,
assimilates and unites our minds to his, and engages




6             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
his almighty power in our defence.-Superior beings
of all ranks are bound by it no less than ourselves.
It has the same authority in all worlds that it has
in this.  The further any being is advanced in excellence and perfection, the greater is his attachment to it, and the more hle is under its influence.To say no more; it is the Lxw of the whole universe; it stands first in the estimation of the Deity;
its original is his nature; and it is the very object
that makes him lovely.
A" Such is the importance of virtue.-Of what
consequence, therefore, is it that we practise it!There is no argument or motive which is at all fitted
to influence a reasonable mind, which does not call
us to this. One virtuous disposition of soul is preferable to the greatest natural accomplishments and
abilities, and of more value than all the treasures
of the world.-If you are wise, then, study virtue,
and contemn every thing that can come in competition with it.  Remember, that nothing else deserves one anxious thought or wish.  Remember,
that this alone is honour, glory, wealth and happiness.  Secure this, and you secure every thing.
lose this, and all is lost."]




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        7
My father belonged originally to the Church of
England; but, soon after his'marriage with my
mother (a very handsome and very amiable woman),
he withdrew from it at her persuasion, and became
one of Dr. Price's hearers.
When I was a school-boy, I wore, like other
school-boys, a cocked. hat;-we used to run about
the fields, chasing butterflies, in cocked hats. After growing up, I have walked through St. Paul's
Churchyard in a cocked hat.
I saw Garrick act only once,-the part of Ranger
in The Suspiceious Husband. I remember that there
was a great crowd, and that we waited long in a
dark passage of the theatre, on our way to the pit.
I was then a little boy. My father had promised to
take me to see Garrick in Lear; but a fit of the
mumps kept me at home.
Before his going abroad, Garrick's attractions
had much decreased; Sir William Weller Pepys said
that the pit was often almost empty. But on his




8              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
return to England, people were mad about seeing
him; and Sir George Beaumont and several others
used frequently to get admission into the pit, before
the doors were opened to the public, by means of
bribing the attendants, who bade them " be sure, as
soon as the crowd rushed in, to pretend to be in a
great heat, and to wipe their faces as if they had
just been struggling for entrance."
Jack Bannister told me, that one night he was
behind the scenes of the theatre when Garrick was
playing Lear; and that the tones in which Garrick
uttered the words, " 0 fool, I shall go mad! "' absolutely thrilled him.
Garrick used to pay an annual visit to Lord Spencer at Althorp; wlere, after tea, he generally entertained the company by reading scenes from Shake 
speare.  Thomas Grenville,t who met him  there,
told me that Garrick would steal anxious glances at
"You think I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep.
1 have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep. —Ofool, I shal go mad  "
King Lear, act. ii. sc. 4.-ED.
f The Right Honourable T. G.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         9
the faces of his audience, to perceive what effect his
reading produced; that, one night, Garrick observed
a lady listening to him very attentively, and yet
never moving a muscle of her countenance; and,
that, speaking of her next day, he said, " She seems
a very worthy person; but I hope that-that-that
she won't be present at my reading to-night."-Another evening at Althorp, when Garrick was about
to exhibit some particular stage-effect of which they
had been talking, a young gentleman got up and
placed the candles upon the floor, that the light
might be thrown on his face as from the lamps in
the theatre. Garrick, displeased at his officiousness, immediately sat down again.
My friend Maltby * and I, when we were very
young men, had a strong desire to see Dr. Johnson;
and we determined to call upon him and introduce
ourselves. We accordingly proceeded to his house
in Bolt Court; and I had my hand on the knocker,
when our courage failed us, and we retreated. Many
years afterwards, I mentioned this circumstance to
* See notice at the commencement of the Porsoniana in this vol.
-ED.
1*




10           RECOLLECTIONS OF TiE
Boswell, who said, " What a pity that you did not
go boldly in! he would have received you with all
kindness."
Dr. Johnson said to an acquaintance of mine, " [My
other works are wine and water; but my Rtamz er
is pure wine." The world now thinks differently.
Lady Spencer recollected Johnson well, as she
used' to see him often in her girlhood. Her mother,
Lady Lucan, would say, "Nobody dines with us
to-day; therefore, child, we'll go and get Dr. Johnson." So they would drive to Bolt Court, and bring
the doctor home with them.
At the sale of Dr. Johnson's books, I met General Oglethorpe, then very, very old, the flesh of his
face looking like parchment. lie amused us youngsters by talking of the alterations that had been
made in London and of the great additions it had
received within his recollection. He said that he
had shot snipes in Conduit-Street!
By the by, General Fitzpatrick remembered the
time when St. James's Street used to be crowded
with the carriages of the ladies and gentlemen who




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          11
were walking in the Mall,-tlie ladies with their
heads in full dress, and the gentlemen carrying their
hats under their arms. The proprietors of Ranelagh
and Vauxhall used to send decoy-ducks among them,
that is, persons attired in the height of fashion, who
every now and then would exclaim in a very audible tone, "What charming weather for Ranelagh"
or " for Vauxhall! "
Ranelagh was a very pleasing place of amusement. There persons of inferior rank mingled with
the highest nobility of Britain. All was so orderly
and still, that you could hear the wh8hihng sound of
the ladies' trains, as the immense assembly walked
round and round the room.  If you chose, you might
have tea, which was served up in the neatest equipage possible. The price of admission was half-acrown. People generally went to Ranelagh between
nine and ten o'clock.
My first attempt at authorship was a series of
papers headed The SGribbler, * which appeared in
* The Scribbler extends to eight Numbers-in The Gentleman's
lfafcgzine for 1781, pp. 68, 119, 168, 218, 259, 306, 355, 405 (mis



12              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
The Gentleman's Mclcgazine,-for what year I forget.
I have never looked at them since: I daresay they
are sad trash.
["THE SCRIBBLER.  NO. IV.
" 0 Tempora! 0 Mores!
"The degeneracy of the age has ever been the
favourite theme of declamation: yet, when the subject has been attentively examined, the Moderns
will not appear inferior to the Ancients.
" Greece and Rome shine with peculiar lustre in
the page of history. The former contained several
states, the principal of which were Lacedsemon and
Athens.
"Devoted entirely to war, the Spartans were
brave, frugal, and temperate; but divested of every
sentiment of humanity.  The reduction of Athens
and the capture of Cadmea, the execution of Agis
and the barbarity exercised on the Helotes, reflect
indelible disgrace on the annals of Lacedsemon.
paged 409), (several of the references to which in The General Index
to that work are wrong). The first Number is signed " S***
R****"." These juvenile essays are on various subjects, and quite
up to the standard of the periodical writing of the time. I have given,
as a curiosity, No, 4 entire.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        13
"With a delicate taste and a fine imagination,
the Athenians were vain, inconstant, and irresolute.
If no nation ever produced more great men, no
nation ever behaved to them with such ingratitude.
Miltiades died in prison; Aristides, Themistocles,
and Cimon, were banished; Socrates and Phocion
were condemned to suffer death. The rest of Greece
does not present a scene more honotrable to human
nature.
" Individuals appeared among the Romans who
merit the highest encomiums. Their national character, however, was haughty and oppressive. The
destruction of Carthage and Numantia, the murder
of the Gracchi, their injustice to the Aricians and
the Ardeates, their triumphs and their gladiatorial
combats, sully the glory they acquired from their
patriotism, moderation, and valour.
" Such were the Ancients; while they cultivated
the severer, they neglected the milder virtues; and
were more ambitious of exciting the admiration than
of deserving the esteem of posterity.
"Examples of heroic virtue cannot occur so
frequently among the Moderns as the Ancients, firom
the nature of their political institutions; yet Eng



14            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
land, Holland, and Switzerland, are entitled to
greater applause than the celebrated republics of
antiquity.
" Generosity, sincerity, and a love of independence, are the characteristics of the English. No
nation had ever juster ideas of liberty, or fixed it
on a firmer basis. They have concerted innumerable establishments in favour of the indigent, and have
even frequently raised subscriptions for the relief
of their enemies, when reduced to captivity.  Their
conduct indeed in India has been excessively unjust.
Nor can this appear surprising to those who reflect,
that India is under the direction of a commercial
society, conducted by its members in a distant
country; and that its climate is fatal to the constitutions of the Europeans, who visit it only with the
design of suddenly amassing wealth, and are anxious
to return as soon as that design is accomplished.
"Holland, however circumscribed in its extent,
has acquired liberty by a war of above half a century, and risen to the highest rank among the powers
of Europe.  Though the Dutch are universally engaged in lucrative pursuits, neither their sentiments
are contracted, nor their ideas confined. They have




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         15
erected edifices in which age may repose, and sickness be relieved; and have often liberally contributed to the support of the persecuted.  The destruction of the DeWitts was entirely the result of
a momentary passion.
" Sheltered within the fastnesses of their native
mountains, the Swiss look down with security on the
revolutions around them.  Though never actuated
with the spirit of conquest, they have exhibited acts
of the most exalted heroism in defence of their
country.  Ildustrious, yet liberal; simple, yet enlightened; their taste is not vitiated, nor their manners corrupted, by the refinements of luxury.
"' That the Moderns are not inferior to the Ancients in virtue, is obvious therefore on a review of
the nations that have acted with most honour in the
grand theatre of the world. The present mode of
conducting war, not to mention any other instance,
is the most humane and judicious that has yet been
adopted.
" Let us not then depreciate the Moderns. Let
us admire, let us imitate, what is laudable in antiquity, but be just to the merits of our cotemporaries." ]




16            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
The first poetry I published was the Ode to Superstition,, in 1786. I wrote it while I was in my
teens, and afterwards touched it up.* I paid down
to the publisher thirty pounds to insure, him from
being a loser by it. At the end of four years, I found
that he had sold about twenty copies.  However, I
was consoled by reading in a critique on the Ode
that I was " an able writer," or some such expression.-The short copy of verses entitled Ccqptivity
was also composed when I was a very young man.
It was a favourite with Hookham  Frere, who said
that it resembled a Greek epigram.
My lines To the Gnat, which some of the reviewers laughed at, were composed in consequence
of my suferings fiom the attacks of that insect
while I lived at Newington Green. My eyes used to
be absolutely swollen up with gnat-bites.  I awoke
one morning in that condition when I was engaged
to spend the day at Streatham with Mr. and Mrs.
Piozzi, to meet Miss Farren (afterwards Lady Derby);
and it was only by the application of laudanum to
my wound8s that I was enabled to keep my engage* According to a note in Mr. R.'s collected poems, it was "written in 1785."-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          17
ment.  Nothing could exceed the elegance and refinement of Miss Farren's appearance and manners.
People have taken the trouble to write my Life
more than once; and strange assertions they have
made both about myself and my works.  In one
biographical account it is stated that I submitted
The Plecasres of Iemory in manuscript to the critical revision of Richard Sharp: now, when that
poem was first published, I had not yet formed an
acquaintance with Sharp (who was introduced to
me by the oldest of my friends, Maltby*).  The
beautiful lines, "Pleasures of Memory!-oh, supremely blest," &c., which I have inserted in a note
on Part Second, were composed by a Mr. Soame, t
who died in India in 1803, at which time he was a
lieutenant in the dragoons.  I believe that he destroyed himself. I had heard that the lines were in.
a certain newspaper, and went to Peel's Coffee-house
to see that paper: there I first read them, and there
I transcribed them.
On the publication of The Pleasures of leemory,
I sent a copy to Mason, who never acknowledged it.
* See notice at the commencement of the Porsoniana in this vol.
-ED.
t See The Coorrespondence of Sir T. Hannier, &c. p. 481.-ED.




18              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I learned, however, from  Gilpin, and to my great
satisfaction, that Mason, in a letter to  him, had
spoken well of it;-he pronounced it to be very
different in style from the poetry of the day.
During  lly whole life I have borne in mind the
speech of a woman to Philip of Macedon; " I appeal
from Philip drunk to Philip sober." After writing
any thing in the excitement of the moment, and
being greatly pleased with it, I have always put it
by for a day or two; and then carefully considering
it in every possible light, I have altered it to the best
of my judgment; thus appealing from myself drunk
to myself sober.  I was engaged on The Pleasures
of iMfemrory for nine  years; on   uimzcan -,ife for
nearly the same space of time; and Italy was not
completed in less than sixteen years."
I was present when Sir Joshua Reynolds delivered
* I was with Mr. Rogers when he tore to pieces, and threw into
the fire, a manuscript operatic drama, The Vintage of Burgundy,
which he had written early in life. He told me that he offered it
to a manager, who said, "I will bring it on the stage, if you are
determined to have it acted; but it will certainly be damned." One or
two songs, which now appear among his poems, formed parts of that
draia.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            19
his last lecture at the Royal Academy.  On entering
the room, I found that a semicircle of chairs, immediately in front of the pulpit, was reserved for
persons of distinction, being labelled'" Mr. Burke,"
"Mr. Boswell," &c. &c.; and I, with other young
men, was forced to station myself a good way off.
During the lecture, a great crash was heard; and
the company, fearing that the building was about
to come down, rushed towards the door.  Presently,
however, it appeared that there was no cause for
alarm; * and they endeavoured to resume their
places; but, in consequence of the confusion, the reserved seats were now occupied by those who could
first get into them: and I, pressing forwards, secured
one of them.  Sir Joshua concluded the lecture by
saying, with great emotion, " And I should desire
that the last words which I should pronounce in this
Academy and from this place might be the name ofMichael Angelo."  As he descended from  the rostrum, Burke went up to him, took his hand, and said,
* There was cause for alarm. " On an examination of the floor
afterwards, it was found that one of the beams for its support had
actually given way from the great weight of the assembly of persons
who pressed upon it, and probably from a flaw also in the wood."
Northcote's Life of Reynolds, ii. 263, ed. 1819.-ED.




20             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
"The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he a while
Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear." *
What a quantity of snuff Sir Joshua took! I
once saw him at an Academy-dinner, when his waistcoat was absolutely powdered with it.
Sir Joshua was always thinking of his art.  He
was one day walking with Dr. Lawrence near Beaconsfield, when they met a beautiful little peasantboy.  Sir Joshua, after looking earnestly at the
child, exclaimed, " I must go home and deepen the
colouring of my Infant Hfercules."  The boy was a
good deal sun-burnt.
Count d'Adhemar was the original purchaser of
Sir Joshua's 2Muscipula.  Sir Joshua, who fancied
that he was bargaining for a different and less important picture, told him  that the price was fifty
guineas; and on discovering the mistake, allowed
him  to have iMutscipulag for that sum. —Fox had
been anxious to possess Jltfscipncda when it was first
painted; and he bought it at the Ambassador's sale
for (I believe) fifty guineas. It is now at St. Anne's
* Par. Lost, b. viii. 1.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                  21
Hill. It would fetch, at the present day, a thousand
guineas.
The morning of the day on which  Sir Joshua's
Puck was to be sold, Lord Farnborough and Dance
the painter breakfasted with me; and we went to
the sale together.  When Puck was put up, it excited  such  admiration, that there  was a general
clapping of hands: yet it was knocked down to me
at a comparatively trifling price.*   I walked home
from  the sale, a man carrying Puck before me; and
so well was the picture known, that more than one
person, as they passed us in  the street, called  out,
"There it is! "
I like Northcote's Life of Sir Joshta:t it may
" "When the Shakespeare Gallery was disposed of by lottery,
the building itself, and many of the capital pictures, formed the principal prize, which was won by Mr. Tassie of Leicester Square, who,
after showing it a few months, divided the property into several lots.
and sold them by auction. In that sale the pictures of Sir Joshua
produced the following sums, which are here contrasted with the prices
paid to Sir Joshua by Mr. Boydell:
Prices paid to Sir Joshua by    Prices for which they sold by
Mr. Boydell.                     auction.
X      X       X      -       -!* a          -~     *
Puck or Robin Good Fellow,
100 guineas.                     ~215 5s 0."
Edwards's Anecdotes of Painters, &c. p. 204.
t Northcote assured the writer of these pages that Laird, not




22             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
be depended upon for facts; and, of course, Northcote was a very competent critic in painting.
I can hardly believe what was told me long ago
by a gentleman living in the Temple, who, however,
assured me that it was fact.  He happened to be
passing by Sir Joshua's house in Leicester Square,
when he saw  a poor girl seated on the steps and
crying bitterly.  I-e asked what was the matter;
and she replied that she was crying "because the
one shilling which she had received from Sir Joshua
for sitting to him as a model, had proved to be a
bad one, and he would not give her another."
I recollect when it was still the fashion for gentlemen to wear swords.  I have seen HIaydn play
at a concert in a tie-wig, with a sword at his side.
Thle head-dresses of the ladies, during my youth,
were of a truly preposterous size. I have gone to
himself, procured the greater part of the materials for the Life of Sir
Joshua, and put them together; his own part was small, and confined
chiefly to criticism on art and artists." Prior's Life of Goldsmith, vol.
ii. 572. —ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        23
Ranelagh in a coach with a lady who was obliged
to sit upon a stool placed in the bottom  of the
coach, the height of her head-dress not allowing her
to occupy the regular seat.
Their tight lacing was ecually absurd. Lady
Crewe told me, that, on returning home from IRanelagh, she has rushed up to her bed-room, and desired her maid to cut her laces without a moment's
delay, for fear she should faint.
Dr. Fordyce sometimes drank a good deal at
dinner. He was summoned one evening to see a
lady patient, when he was more than half-seas-over,
and conscious that he was so. Feeling her pulse,
and finding himself unable to count its beats, he
muttered, "Drunk, by God!"  Next morning, recollecting the circumstance, he was greatly vexed:
and just as he was thinking what explanation of his
behaviour he should offer to the lady, a letter from
her was put into his hand.  "She too well knew,"
said the letter, " that he had discovered the unfortunate condition in which she was when he last
visited her; and she entreated him to keep the mat



24               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
ter secret in consideration of the enclosed (a hundred-pound bank-note)."
I have several times talked to a very aged boatman  on the Thames, who recollected  "Mr. Alexander Pope."  This boatman, when a lad, had frequently assisted his father in rowing Pope up and
down the river.  On such occasions Pope generally
sat in a sedan-chair.
When I first began to publish, I got acquainted
with an elderly person named Lawless," shopman of
Messrs. Cadell and Davies the booksellers.  Lawless
told me, that he was once walking through Twickenhan, accompanied by a friend, and a little boy the
son of that friend.  On the approach of a very diminutive, misshapen, and shabbily-dressed person, the
child drew back half-afraid.  "Don't be alarmed,"
* This Lawless (as I was informed by Mr. Maltby-see notice
prefixed to the Porsoniana, in this vol.) used daily to eat his dinner in
the shop, placing a large folio before him so as to conceal his plate.
Often, to his great annoyance, just as he was beginning his meal,
Gibbon would drop in, and ask a variety of questions about books.
One day, Lawless, out of all patience at the interruption, exclaimed
from behind the folio, "Mr. Gibbon, I'm at dinner, and can't answer
any questions till I have finished it."-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       25
said Lawless; " it is only a poor man."-" A poor
man! " cried his friend; " why, that is Mr. Alexander Pope."
Lawless also told me that he had been intimate
with the waiting-maid of Pope's beloved Martha
Blount. According to the maid's account, her mistress was one of the best natured and kindest persons possible: she would take her out in the carriage to see sights, &c. &c.
Long ago, when Pope's villa was for sale, I had
a great wish to buy it; but I apprehended that it
would fetch a much larger sum than it did; and
moreover I dreaded the epigrams, &c., which would
certainly have been levelled at me, if it had become
mine.-The other day, when the villa was finally
dismantled, I was anxious that the obelisk erected
by Pope to his mother's memory should be placed
in the Gardens at Hampton Court, and I offered to
contribute my mite for that purpose: —but, no!and the obelisk is now at Gopsall, Lord Howe's seat
in Leicestershire.
There are at Lord Bathurst's a good many unpublished letters of Pope, Bolingbroke, &c., which I
have turned over. In one of them Bolingbroke says
2




26                 EECOLLECTIONS OF THE
that he has no desire to " wrestle with a chimneysweeper," that is, Warburton. —Lady Bathuirst promised to send me some of Pope's letters; instead of
which, she sent me a packet of letters from Queen
Mary to King William, in which he is addressed as
her " dear husbam." *
In Pope's noble lines To  the,Earl of  Oxford,
prefixed to Parnell's Poems, there is an impropriety
which was forced upon the poet by the rhyme:
The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade;
She waits, or to the scaffold or the cell,
When the last lingering friend has bid farewell."
It should be, of course, "6 or to the cell or the scaffold."
* "Lord Bathurst has lent me a very entertaining collection of
original letters, from Pope, Bolingbroke, Swift, Queen Mary, &c.,
and has promised to make me a present of any thing I like out of
them. I cannot say these communications have given me a very
great idea of Queen Mary's head; but her heart, I am persuaded,
was a very good one. The defect must have been in her education; for such spelling and such English I never saw; romantic
and childish too, as to sentiment. My reverence for her many
virtues leads me to hope she was very young when she wrote
them."  Letter of Hannah More, in her Memoirs, &c. vol. i. 358,
third ed.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             2T
Pope has sometimes a beautiful line rhyming
to a very indifferent one.  For instance, in the
Epistle to Jervas,
"Alas, how little from the grave we claim!
Thou but preserv'st a face, and I a name:"
the latter line is very good: in the former, "claim"
is forced and bad; it should have been "save" or
" preserve."  Again, in the Elegy to the iemory of
an Uzfortunate cLady,
" A heap of dust alone remains of thee;'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be,
the former line is touching, the latter bad.
What a charming line is that in The Rcpe of the
lock 
"If to her share some female errors fall,
Look- on her face, and you'll forget them all."
These verses in his Imitcation  of the Second
Epi'stle of the Second Book of Horace (verses which
Lord Holland is so fond of hearing me repeat) are
as good as any in Horace himself;
" Years following years, steal something every day,
At last they steal us from ourselves away;




28              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
In one our frolics, one amusements end,
In one a mistress drops, in one a friend."
But perhaps the best line Pope ever wrote is in
his Imitation of the First Satire of the Second Book
of Horace;
" Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a star."
The want of pauses is the main blemish in
Pope's versification: I can't recollect at this moment any pause he has, except that in his fine Prologue to Cato;
" The triumph ceas'd; tears gushed from ev'ry eye;
The world's great victor pass'd unheeded by."
People are now so fond of the obscure in poetry,
that they can perceive no deep thinking in that darling man Pope, because he always expresses himself with such adnirable clearness.
My father used to recommend Pope's Hfomer to
me: but, with all my love of Pope, I never could
like it. (I delight in Cowper's Homer; I have read
it again and again ).
* Thomas Campbell once told me how greatly he admired Cowper's Homer: he said that he used to read it to his wife, who was
moved even to tears by some passages of it-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          29
The article on Pope in the Quarterly Review *
was certainly touched up by Gifford: in some
places it is beyond the powers of D'Israeli.
Pope is not to be compared to Dryden for varied
harmony of versification; nor for ease;-how naturally the words follow each other in this couplet of
Dryden's in the Second Part of Absalom and Achitophel!
" The midwife laid her hand on his thick skull,
With this prophetic blessing-Be thou dull!"
and in that touching one in his Epistle to Congreee,
" Be kind to my remains; and, O defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend  "
Dryden's Virgil is, on the whole, a failure; but
I am not sure that it does not exhibit the best specimens of his versification: in that work he had not
to tax his invention; he had only to think of the
expression and versification.  It contains one thing,
in the supplication of Turnus to iEneas, which is
finer than the original;
Vol. xxiii. 400.-ED.




30               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
"Yet think, 0, think, if mercy may be shown,Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son,Pity my sire," &c.
Virgil's words are:
" Miseri te si qua parentis
Tangere cura potest, oro,-fuit et tibi talis 
Anchises genitor, —Dauni miserere senecte," &c.*
I sometimes wonder t how  a man can ever be
cheerful, when he knows that he  nmust die.  But
what poets write  about the horrors of the grave
makes not the slightest impression upon me; for
instance, what Dryden says;
"Vain men! how vanishing a bliss we crave I
Now warm in love, now withering in the grave I
Never, 0, never more, to see the sun,
Still dark, in a damp vault, and still alone i " t
* En. xii. 932.-ED.
f Mr. Rogers once made the same remark to Mr. Luttrell, who
versified it as follows:
"0 death, thy certainty is such
And thou'rt a thing so fearful,
That, musing, I have wonder'd much
How men were ever cheerful."-ED.
Palamon and Arcite, b. iii.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        31
All this is unphilosophical; in fact, nonsense.
The body, when the soul has left it, is as worthless
as an old garment,-rather more so, for it rots much
sooner. The lines of Dryden which I have just
quoted (and which are modernised from Chaucer)
were great favourites with Sheridan; I seem now
to hear him reciting them.
Sir George Beaumont once met Quin at a very
small dinner-party. - There was a delicious pudding,
which the master of the house, pushing the dish towards Quin, begged him to taste. A  gentleman
had just before helped himself to an immense piece
of it.   Pray," said Quin, looking first at the gen
tleman's plate and then at the dish, "which is the
pudding! "
Sir George Beaumont, when a young man, was
one day in the Mount (a famous coffee-house in
Mount Street, Grosvenor Square) with  Harvey
Aston. Various persons were seated at different
tables. Among others present, there was an Irishman who was very celebrated as a duellist, having
killed at least half-a-dozen antagonists.  Aston,




32             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
talking to some of his acquaintance, swore that he
would make the duellist stand barefooted before
them.  " You had better take care what you say,"
they replied; " he has his eye upon you." —" No matter," rejoined Aston; "I declare again that he shall
stand barefooted before you, if you will make up
among you a purse of fifty guineas."  They did so.
Aston then said in a loud voice, " I have been in Ireland, and am well acquainted with the natives." The
Irishman was all ear. Aston went on, " The Irish,
being born in bogs; are every one of them  webfooted; I know it for a fact."-" Sir," roared the
duellist, starting up from  his table, "it is false!"
Aston persisted in his assertion. " Sir," cried the
other," I was born in Ireland; and I will prove to
you that it is a falsehood." So saying, in great haste
he pulled off his shoes and stockings, and displayed
his bare feet. The joke ended in Aston's sharing
the purse between the Irishman and himself; giving
the former thirty guineas, and keeping twenty. Sir
George assured me that this was a true story.*
* A similar story is related of the Irishman from whom Macklin took the idea of Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan (in Love c la
Mode). Macklin professing his belief that he, like other Irishmen,
must have a tail, "he instantly pulled off his coat and waistcoat,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                  33
Aston was always kicking up disturbances. I
remember being at Ranelagh, with my father and
mother, when we heard a great row, and were told
that it was occasioned by Aston.
If I mistake not, Aston  fought two  duels in
India on two successive days, and fell in the second
one.*
That beautiful view of Conway Castle [in Mr.
Rogers's dining-room] was painted by Sir George
Beaumont, who presented it to me as a memorial of
our having been originally introduced to each other
in its ruins.-Sir George and I were always excellent
friends. The morning after I arrived at Venice (on
my first visit to Italy), I was looking out at the
to convince him of his mistake, assuring him'that no Irishman, in
that respect, was better than another man."' Cooke's Memoirs of
Mac7lin, p. 225.-ED.
* " 1798, Dec. 23. At Madras, in consequence of a wound he
received in a duel with Major Allen, of which he languished about
a week, Col. Harvey Aston. He had been engaged in a similar
affair of honour, and on the same account, with Major Picton, only
the day preceding that on which he met Major A., but which was
fortunately terminated by each party firing in the air, and a proper
explanation taking place as to the offence."  Gentleman's Magazine,
vol. lxix. P. 1, p. 527.-Aston had fought a duel in 1790 with Lieut.
Fitzgerald, and was severely wounded. See Haydn's Dict. of Dates,
sub Duelling.-ED.
2*




34            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
window, when I saw a gentleman and a lady land
at my lodging from a gondola: they were Sir George
and Lady Beaumont. The meeting was delightful:
-even now, I think of it with pleasure.
In my youthful days Young's Night-Thoughts
was a very favourite book, especially with ladies:
I knew more than one lady who had a copy of it in
which particular passages were marked for her by
some popular preacher.
Young's poem  The;ast Day contains, amidst
much absurdity, several very fine lines: what an
enormous thought is this! -
"Those overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire'Fall,' another i Stand,'
Whose rear lay rapt in night, while breaking dawn
Rous'd the broadfront, and call'd the battle on."*
At Brighton, during my youth, I became acquainted with a lawyer who had known Gray. He
* Book ii.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       35
said that Gray's pronunciation was very affected,
e. g. " What naise (noise) is that? "
Henley (the translator of Beckford's VatAhek) was
one morning paying a visit to Gray, when a dog
came into the room. "Is that your dog?" said
Ienley. ":No," replied Gray: "do you suppose
that I would keep an animal by which I might possibly lose my life? "
I was a mere lad when Mason's Gray was published. I read it in my young days with delight,
and have done so ever since: the letters have for
me an inexpressible charm; they are as witty as
Walpole's, and have, what his want, true wisdom.
I used to take a pocket edition of Gray's Poems
with me every morning during my walks to town
to my father's banking-house, where I was a clerk,
and read them by the way. I can repeat them all.
I do envy Gray these lines in his Ode on a distant prospect of Eton Collee;
Still as they run, they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch afeCarful joy."
But what immediately follows is not good;




36              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
" Gay Hope is theirs, by Fancy fed,
Less pleasing owhen possess'd: "
we cannot be said to possess hope.* —How  strange
it is that, with all Gray's care in composition, the
word  "shade"  should occur three  times in  the
course of the eleven first lines of that ode! —
" Her Henry's holy shade."
" Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among."
" Ah happy hills, ah pleasing shade! "
Both Fox and Courtenay thought Gray's fragment, Thie Allincce of Education and Government,
his finest poem: but that was because they preferred the heroic couplet to every other kind of
verse. A celebrated passage in it,"Oft o'er the trembling nations from afar
Has Scythia breath'd the living cloud of war;
And, where the deluge burst with sweepy sway,
Their arms, their kings, their gods were roll'd away.
As oft have issu'd, host impelling host,
The blue-ey'd myriads from the Baltic coast:
* His friend Wakefield had anticipated Mr. Rogers in the above
remark: "Though the object of hope may truly be said to be less
pleasing in possession than in the fancy; yet HOPE in person cannot
possibly be possessed," &c. Note ad 1.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                3r
The prostrate south to the destroyer yields
Her boasted titles and her golden fields;
With grim delight the brood of winter view
A brighter day and heavens of azure hue,
Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose,
And quaff the pendent vintage as it grows,"is a good deal injured by the forced and unnatural
expression, "pendent vintage." *
I once read Gray's Ode to Adversity to Wordsworth; and at the line," And leave us leisure to be good,"Wordsworth  exclaimed, "I am  quite sure that is
not original; Gray could not have hit upon it." t
The stanza which Gray threw out of his Elegy
is better than some of the stanzas he has retained:
" There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unseen, are showers of violets found;
The redbreast loves to build and warble there,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground."
* For this expression Gray was indebted to Virgil;
"Non eadem arboribus pendet vindemia nostris
Quam Methymnaeo carpit de palmite Lesbos."
Georg. ii. 89.-ED.
t The Rev. J. Mitford, in his ed. of Gray, cites ad 1.,
"And know, I have not yet the leisure to be good."
Oldham, Ode, st. 5 —Works, i. 85, ed. 1722.-ED.




38            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I believe few people know, what is certainly a
fact, that the Waclecae who was hanged for robbery, and who is mentioned in Gray's Long Story,"He stood as mute as poor Maccleane,"
was brother to Mcalaine, the translator of Mosheim.
Gray somewhere says that monosyllables should
be avoided in poetry: but there are many lines consisting only of monosyllables, which could not possibly be improved.  For instance, in Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet," Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel; " 
and in Pope's Elois8  to Abelccrd,-'Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be prest;
Give all thou canst, and let me dream the rest."
Matthias showed me the papers belonging to
Pembroke IHall, Cambridge, which he had borrowed for his edition of Gray; and among them
were several very indecent poems by Gray's friend
West, in whose day it was the fashion for young
men to write in that style.  If West had lived, he
* Act iii. sc. 3.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            39
would have been no mean poet: he has left some
lines which are certainly among the happiest imitations of Pope;
" How weak is man to reason's judging eye!
Born in this moment, in the next we die;
Part mortal clay, and part ethereal fire,
Too proud to creep, too humble to aspire." *
When I was at Nuneham, I read Mason's manuscript letters to Lord Harconrt, which contain nothing to render them worth printing. They evince
the excessive deference which Mason showed to
Gray, —   Mr. Gray's  opinion" being  frequently
quoted.  There is in them  a very gross passage
about Lady M. W. Montagu.
Mason's poetry is, on the whole, stiff and tiresome.
His best line is in the Elegy on Lady Coventry;' Yes, Coventry is dead. Attend the strain,
Daughters of Albion! ye that, light as air,
So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train,
With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair."
- See Mason's Gray, p. 20, ed. 4to.-ED.




40            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Topham  Beauclerk (Johnson's friend) was a
strangely absent person. One day he had a party
coming to dinner; and, just before their arrival, he
went up stairs to change his dress. He forgot all
about them; thought that it was bed-time, pulled
off his clothes, and got into bed. A servant, who
presently entered the room to tell him that his
guests were waiting for him, found him fast asleep.
I remember taking Beattie's izinstrel down from
my father's shelves, on a fine summer evening, and
reading it, for the first time, with such delight! It
still charms me (I mean the First Book; the Second
Book is very inferior).
During my youth umbrellas were far from common. At that time every gentleman's family had
one umbrella,-a huge thing, made of coarse cotton,
-which used to be taken out with the carriage, and
which, if there was rain, the footman held over the
ladies' heads, as they entered, or alighted from, the
carriage.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             41
My first visit to France was in company with
Boddington, just before  the  Revolution  began.
When we arrived at Calais, we saw both ladies and
gentlemen walking on the pier with small fox-muffs.
While we were dining there, a poor monk came into
the room and asked us for charity; and B. annoyed
me much by saying to him, "'I1 faut travailler." *
The monk bowed meekly and withdrew.  Nothing
would satisfy B. but that we should ride on horseback the first stage from Calais; and accordingly, to
the great amusement of the inn-keeper and chamber-maid, we were furnished with immense jackboots and  hoisted  upon  our steeds.  When  we
reached Paris, Lafayette gave us a general invitation to dine with him  every day.  At his table we
once dined with about a dozen persons (among them
the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, Condorcet, &c.)
most of whom afterwards came to an untimely end.
At a dinner-party in Paris, given by a French
X " But we distinguish, said I, laying my hand upon the sleeve
of his [the Monk's] tunic, in return for his appeal-we distinguish,
my good father, betwixt those who wish only to eat the bread of their
own labour, and those who eat the bread of other' people's, and have
no other plan in life but to get through it in sloth and ignorance,
for the love of God." Sterne's Sentimental Journey.-The Mlonk.ED.




42            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
nobleman, I saw a black bottle of English porter
set on the table as a great rarity, and drunk out of
small glasses.
Boddington had a wretchedly bad memory;
and, in order to improve it, he attended Feinaigle's
lectures on the Art of Memory. Soon after, somebody asked Boddington the name of the lecturer;
and, for his life, he could not recollect it.-When
I was asked if I had attended the said lectures on
the Art of Memory, I replied, "No: I wished to
learn the Art of Forgetting."
One morning, when I was a lad, Wilkes came
into our banking-house to solicit my father's vote.
My father happened to be out, and I, as his representative, spoke to Wilkes. At parting, Wilkes
shook hands with me; and I felt proud of it for a
week after.
He was quite as ugly, and squinted as much, as
his portraits make him; but he was very gentle



TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           43
manly in appearance and manners.  I think I see
him  at this moment, walking through the crowded
streets of the city, as Chamberlain, on his way to
Guildhall, in a scarlet coat, military boots, and a
bag-wig, —the hackney-coachmen in vain calling
out to him, " A coach, your honour? "
Words are so twisted and tortured by some
writers of the present day, that I am  really sorry
for them,-I mean, for the words.  It is a favourite
fancy of mine, that perhaps in the next world the
use of words may be dispensed with,-that our
thoughts may stream  into each other's minds without any verbal communication.
When a young man, I went to Edinburgh, carrying letters of introduction (from Dr. Kippis, Dr.
Price, &c.) to Adam Smith, Robertson, and others.
When I first saw Smith, he was at breakfast, eating
strawberries; and he descanted on the superior
flavour of those grown in Scotland.* I found him
* Every Englishman who has tasted the strawberries of Scotland
will allow that Smith was right.-ED.




44           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
very kind and communicative.  He was (what
Robertson was not) a man who had seen a great
deal of the world. Once, in the course of conversation, I happened to remark of some writer, that
"he was rather superficial,-a Voltaire."-" Sir,"
cried Smith, striking the table with his hand, " there
has been but one Voltaire! "
Robertson, too, was very kind to me. He, one
morning, spread out the map of Scotland on the
floor, and got upon his knees, to describe the route
I ought to follow in making a tour on horseback
through the Highlands.
At Edinburgh I became acquainted with Henry
Mackenzie, who asked me to correspond with him;
which I (then young, romantic, and an admirer of
his Julia de Roubiygn) willingly agreed to. We
accordingly wrote to each other occasionally during
several years; but his letters, to my surprise and
disappointment, were of the most common-place
description. Yet his published writings display no
ordinary talent; and, like those of Beattie, they are
remarkable for a pure English idiom,-which cannot be said of Hume's writings, beautiful as they are.
The most memorable day perhaps which I ever




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       45
passed was at Edinburgh,-a Sunday; when, after
breakfasting with Robertson, I heard him preach in
the forenoon, and Blair in the afternoon, then took
coffee with the Piozzis, and supped with Adam
Smith. Robertson's sermon was excellent both for
matter and manner of delivery. Blair's was good,
but less impressive; and his broad Scotch accent
offended my ears greatly.
My acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Piozzi began at Edinburgh, being brought about by the landlord of the hotel where they and I were staying.
He thought that I should be gratified by " hearing
Mr. Piozzi's piano-forte:" and they called upon me,
on learning from the landlord who I was, and that
Adam Smith, Robertson, and Mackenzie had left
cards for me.
I was afterwards very intimate with the Piozzis,
and visited them often at Streatham. The world
was most unjust in blaming Mrs. Thrale for marrying Piozzi: he was a very handsome, gentlemanly,
and amiable person, and made her a very good husband. In the evening he used to play to us most
beautifully on the piano.  Her daughters never
would see her after that marriage; and (poor woman)




46             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
when she was at a very great age, I have heard her
say that "she would go down upon her knees to
them, if they would only be reconciled to her."
I never saw Burns: I was within thirty miles of
Dumfries when he was living there; and yet I did
not go to visit him; which I have regretted ever
since.-I think his  Cottlars Saturdcy-Night the
finest pastoral in any language.
How  incapable of estimating Burns's genius
were the worthy folks of Edinburgh! Henry Mlackenzie (who ought to have known better) advised
him  to take for his model in song-writing-Mrs.
John Hunter! *
Sir John Henry Moore, who died in his twentyfourth year, possessed  considerable talent.  His
L'Anour tinmice is very pretty.
* As a writer of songs, Mrs. Hunter is, no doubt, immeasurably
inferior to Burns: but her Cherokee Death-Song, and several other
simall pieces which she wrote for music, are far from contemptible:
see her Poems, 1802. —ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                   47
[" L'Amour timide.
If in that breast, so good, so pure,
Compassion ever lov'd to dwell,
Pity the sorrows I endure;
The cause-I must not, dare not tell.
The grief that on my quiet preys-*
That rends my heart-that checks my tongue,I fear will last me all my days,
But feel it will not last me long." ]
Marivaux's t AJiarianne is a particular favourite
with me: I have read it six  times through; and  I
have shed tears over it, after I was seventy,-not
so  much  at its pathos  as  at its  generous  sentiments.
* Mr. Rogers, I believe, was not aware that the second stanza is
taken from Montreuil;
"Ne me demanclez plus, Sylvie,
Quel est le mal que je ressens.
C'est un mal que j'auray tout le temps de ma vie,
Mais je ne l'auray pas long-temps."
(Euvres, p. 602, ed. 1666.-ED.
j At the Strawberry-Hill sale, Mr. Rogers's admiration of this
writer induced him to purchase his picture —a miniature, by Liotard,
which had been painted for Horace Walpole.-ED.




48              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
The Abbe Delille (whom I knew well and liked
much) was of opinion that Marivaux's Paysan Parvenu was a greater literary effort than lMaricane.
I once said to Delille, "Don't you think that
Voltaire's vers de socite are the first of their kind? "
He replied, " Assuredly; the very first, and-the
last."
Dr. Parr had a great deal of sensibility. When I
read to him, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, the account of
O'Coigly's   death, the tears rolled down his cheeks.
One day, Mackintosh having vexed him by calling O'Coigly "a rascal," Parr immediately rejoined,
" Yes, Jamie, he was a bad man, but he might have
been worse; he was an Irishman, but he might have
been a Scotchman; he was a priest, but he might
have been a lawyer; he was a republican, but he
might have been an apostate."
* James O'Coigly (alias James Quigley, alias James John
Fivey) was tried for high treason at Maidstone, and hanged on Penningdon Heath, 7th June, 1798. When he had hung about ten
minutes, he was beheaded; and the head and body were immediately
buried under the gallows (the rest of his sentence-that, "while he
was yet alive, his bowels should be taken out and burnt before his
face," &c. having been remitted).-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        49
After their quarrel (about Gerald), Parr often
spoke with much bitterness of Mackintosh: among
other severe things, he said that " Mackintosh came
up from Scotland with a metaphysical head, a cold
heart, and open hands." At last they were reconciled, having met, for that purpose, in my house:
but their old familiarity was never fully re-established.
Parr was frequently very tiresome in conversation, talking like a schoolmaster.
He had a horror of the east wind; and Tom
Sheridan once kept him prisoner in the house for a
fortnight by fixing the weathercock in that direction.
We have not a few charming prose-writers in
what may be called the middle style,-Addison,
Middleton, Jortin, &c.; but in the highest prosestyle we have none to be compared with Bossuet,
Pascal, or Buffon.-We have far better tragic writers than Corneille or Racine; but we have no one
to be compared with Moliere,-no one like him.
3




50           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Swift's verses on his own death have an exquisite facility: but we are not to suppose that he
wrote them off-hand; their ease is the result of very
careful composition.
Helen Maria Williams was a very fascinating
person; but not handsome. I knew her intimately
in her youth, when she resided in London with her
mother and sisters. They used to give very agreeable evening-parties, at which I have met many of
the Scotch literati, Lord Monboddo, &c.
Late in life, Helen translated into English, and
very beautiful English too, Humboldt's long work,
Personal 1Yarrative of Travels, &c.; and, I believe,
nearly the whole impression still lies in Longman's
warehouse.
When she was in Paris, during the Revolution,
she has seen men and women, who were waiting for
admission at the door of the theatre, suddenly leave
their station on the passing of a set of wretches
going to be guillotined, and then, after having ascertained that none of their relations or friends were
among them, very unconcernedly return to the
door of the theatre.-I have frequently dined with




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         51
her at Paris, when Kosciusko and other celebrated
persons were of the party.
When Lord Erskine heard that somebody had
died worth two hundred thousand pounds, he observed, " Well, that's a very pretty sum to begin
the next world with."
" A friend of mine," said Erskine, " was suffering
from a continual wakefulness; and various methods
were tried to send him to sleep, but in vain. At last
his physicians resorted to an experiment which succeeded perfectly: they dressed him in a watchman's
coat, put a lantern into his hand, placed him in a
sentry-box, and-he was asleep in ten minutes."
To all letters soliciting his "subscription" to any
thing, Erskine had a regular form of reply, viz.
"Sir, I feel much honoured by your application to
me, and I beg to subscribe"-here the reader had
to turn over the leaf —-'myself your very obt servant," &c.
I wish I could recollect all the anecdotes of his
early life which Erskine used to relate with such
spirit and dramatic effect. He had been in the navy;




52           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
and he said that he once managed to run a vessel
between two rocks, where it seemed almost impossible that she could have been driven. I-e had also
been in tie army; and on one occasion saved the life
of a soldier who was condemned to death, by making an earnest appeal in his behalf to the general
in command and his wife: Erskine having got the
pardon, rode off with it at full speed to the place of
execution, where he arrived just as the soldier was
kneeling, and the muskets were levelled for the
fatal shot.
Erskine used to say that when the hour came
that all secrets should be revealed, we should know
the reason why-shoes are always made too tight.
When he had a house at Hampstead, he entertained the very best company. I have dined there
with the Prince of Wales,-the only time I ever had
any conversation with his royal highness. On that
occasion the Prince was very agreeable and familiar.
Among other anecdotes which he told us of Lord
Thurlow, I remember these two.  The first was:
Thurlow once said to the Prince, "Sir, your father
will continue to be a popular king as long as he
continues to go to church every Sunday, and to be




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            53
faithful to that ugly woman, your mother; but you,
sir, will never be popular."  The other was this:
While his servants were carrying Thurlow up stairs
to his bed-room, just before his death, they happened to let his legs strike against the banisters,
upon which he utterred the lcst words he ever spoke,
-a frightful imprecation on  all their souls."
Erskine said that the Prince of Wales was quite
"a  cosmogony man" (alluding to The Vicar of
WcTlkefeld), for he had only two classical quotations,-one from  HIomer and one from  Virgil, —
which he never failed to sport when there was any
opportunity of introducing them.*
Latterly Erskine was very poor; and no wonder,
for he always contrived to sell out of the funds when
they were very low, and to buy in when they were
very high.  "By heaven," he would say, "I am  a
perfect kite, all paper; the boys might fly me."
Yet, poor as he was, he still kept the best society:
I have met him at the Duke of York's, &c. &c.
* Mr. Luttrell, who was present when Mr. Rogers told this anecdote, added-" Yes, and the quotation from Virgil was always given
with a ridiculous error,'Non illi imperium pelago, saevumque tridentom."'" &c. zEn. i. 138.-ED.




54                RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I asked Erskine if he really was the author of
two little poems attributed to him,-The Gercnium
and The Birth of the Rose.  He replied that The
Geranium was written by him; that the other was
not his.
Here's an epigram by Erskine which is far from
bad (I know not if it has ever been printed);
" The French have taste in all they do,
Which we are quite without;
For Nature, that to them gave gout,
To us gave only gout."
Thomas Grenville * told me this curious fact.
When he was a young man, he one day dined with
Lord Spencer at Wimbledon. Among the company
was George Pitt (afterwards Lord Rivers), who declared that he could tame the most furious animal
by looking at it steadily. Lord Spencer said, "Well,
there is a mastiff in the court-yard here, which is
d The Right Hon. T. G.-Sometimes, towards the close of
his life, from lapse of memory, Mr. Rogers, in relating this anecdote, would state that he himself had been of the party at Lord
Spencer's.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       55
the terror of the neighbourhood: will you try your
powers on him? "  Pitt agreed to- do so; and the
company descended into the court-yard. A servant
held the mastiff by a chain. Pitt knelt down at
a short distance from the animal, and stared him
sternly in the face. They all shuddered. At a
signal given, the mastiff was let loose, and rushed
furiously towards Pitt,-then suddenly checked his
pace, seemed confounded, and, leaping over Pitt's
head, ran away, and was not seen for many hours
after.
During one of my visits to Italy, while I was
walking, a little before my carriage, on the road,
not far from Vicenza, I perceived two huge cogs,
nearly as tall as myself, bounding towards me (from
out a gate-way, though there was no house in sight).
I recollected what Pitt had done; and trembling
from head to foot, I yet had resolution enough to
stand quite still and eye them  with a fixed look.
They gradually relaxed their speed from a gallop to
a trot, came up to me, stopped for a moment, and
then went back again.




56           RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton) was "stating the law" to a jury at Guildhall, when Lord
Mansfield interrupted him by saying, "If that be
law, I'll go home and burn my books." —"My
Lord," replied Dunning, " you had better go home
and read them."
Dunning was remarkably ugly.  One night,
while he was playing whist, at Nando's, with Horne
Tooke and two others, Lord Thurlow called at the
door, and desired the waiter to give a note to Dunning (with whom, though their politics were so different, he was very intimate). The waiter did not
know Dunning by sight. "Take the note up stairs,"
said Thurlow, "and deliver it to the ugliest man at
the card-table-to him  who most resembles the
knave of spades."  The note immediately reached
its destination. Horne Tooke used often to tell this
anecdote.
When I was young, we had (what we have not
now) several country-gentlemen of considerable
literary celebrity,-for instance, Hayley, Sargent,
(author of Die Mline), and Webb. There are some




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.               57
good remarks on painting and on poetry scattered
through Webb's different pieces.
If HIayley was formerly over-rated, he is now
undervalued.  He was a most accomplished person,
as indeed is evident from  the notes to his various
poems,-notes which Lord Holland admires greatly.*  His translation of the First Canto of the Inferno t is on the whole good; but he has omitted
some of the striking circumstances in the original.
When I first came forward as a poet, I was
highly gratified by the praise which HTayley bestowed on my writings, and which was communicated to me by Cadell the publisher.
I once travelled with  Lord Lansdowne (when
Lord Henry Petty) to Bognor, in the neighbourhood of which Hayley  was then  living  (not at
Eartham, but in a village $ near it).  I went to visit
him.  The door was opened by a little girl; and
* "Lord Holland, the best-informed and most elegant of our
writers on the subject of the Spanish theatre, declared that he had
been induced to learn that language by what Hayley had written concerning the poet Ercilla."  Gary's Life of cHyley —Lives of English
Poets, Jc. p. 347.-ED.
{ In the Notes to his Essay on Poetry.-ED.: Felpham.-ED.
3*




58           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
when I said, " Is Mr. Hayley at home? " he himself
exclaimed, " Yes, he is "-(he recognised my voice,
though we had only met once before,-at Flaxman's); and out he came, adding, " I am delighted
to see you: if I had not known your voice, I should
not have let you in, for I am very busy."  I took
coffee with him, and he talked most agreeably. I
said that Lord Henry Petty was my travelling companion, and that he was very anxious to be introduced to him: but Hayley, who did not care a straw
for rank, could not be prevailed upon to see his
lordship.
In those days, indeed, praise was sweet to me,
even when it came from those who were far inferior
to Hayley: what pleasure I felt on being told that
Este had said of me, " A child of Goldsmith, sir!"
Parson Este, in conjunction with Captain Topham, edited the newspaper called The World. He
was reader at Whitehall; and he read the service
so admirably, that Mrs. Siddons used frequently to
go to hear him. My sister and I once took him
with us on a little tour; and when we were at Ross,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        59
he read to us Pope's lines about "the man of
Ross,"-I cannot describe how beautifully.
Este published a strange book, ay own Life,
and A Journey through Flanders, &c. He used to
throw himself into attitudes in the street. At last
he went mad, and died insane.
I wish somebody would collect all the Epigrams
written by Dr. Mansel (Master of Trinity College,
Cambridge, and Bishop of Bristol): they are remarkably neat and clever.
When titled ladies become authoresses or composers, their friends suffer for it. Lady -     asked
me to buy her book; and I replied that I would do
so when I was rich enough. I went to a concert at
Lady's, during which several pieces composed
by her daughter were performed; and early next
morning, a music-seller arrived at my house, bringing with him the daughter's compositions (and a bill
receipted), price sixteen shillings.




60              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Surely, in delicate touches of pathos Homer excels all poets.  For instance, how  beautiful is Andromache's saying, after Hector's death, that Astyanax had lost his plctyfellow; and Helen's declaration concerning the same hero, that he had never
reproached her!
[" Thee lost, he loses all, of father, both,
And equal playmate in one day depriv'd."
Cowper's Iliad, b. xxii.
"Yet never heard I once hard speech from thee
Or taunt morose; but if it ever chanc'd
That male or female of thy father's house
Blam'd me, and even if herself the queen
(For in the king, whate'er befell, I found
Always a father), thou hast interpos'd
Thy gentle temper and thy gentle speech
To soothe them."                  Id. b. xxiv.]
John Hunter believed that when there was only
one daughter and several sons in a family, the
daughter was always of a masculine disposition; and
that when a family consisted of several daughters and
only one son, the son was always effeminate. Payne
Knight used to say that Homer seems to have entertained the same idea; for in the IlCad we find that




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            61
Dolon, who proves to be such a coward, was an only
son and had several sisters.
[" There was one Dolon in the camp of Troy,
Son of Eumedes, herald of the gods,
Who with five daughters had no son beside."
Cowper's Ilcid, b. x.]
Some traveller relates, that an Indian being
asleep in his canoe, which was fastened to the shore,
a little above the Falls of Niagara, an English soldier wantonly cut the fastenings, and the canoe
drifted into the current;-that the Indian, after
vainly trying the use of his paddles, and perceiving
that he was just approaching the Falls, covered his
head with his mat, lay down in the canoe, and
calmly resigned himself to his fate. So Homer, following nature, tells us in the Odyssey that Ulysses,
when his companions had opened the bag which
contained the winds, covered his head with his
mantle, and lay down in the vessel.
[" They loos'd the bag; forth issu'd all the winds,
And, rapt by tempests back, with fruitless tears
They mourned their native country lost again.
Just then awaking, in my troubled mind
I doubted, whether from the vessel's side




62              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
To plunge and perish, or with patient mind
To suffer and to live. The sufferer's part
At length I chose, and resolute surviv'd.
But, with my mantle wrapp'd around my brows,
I laid me down, till, hurried by the blast,
We, groaning, reach'd again th' ]Eolian isle."
Cowper's Odyssey, b. x.]
It is inexcusable in any one to write illegibly.
When I was a schoolboy, I used to get hold of our
writing-master's copies and trace them  by holding
them against the window: hence the plain hand I
now  write.-When the great Lord Clive was in
India, his sisters sent him some handsome presents
from England; and he informed them by letter that
he had returned them  an "elephant" (at least so
they read the word); an announcement which threw
them into the utmost perplexity,-for what could
they possibly do with the animal?  The true word
was " equivalent." *
* Those who have seen autograph letters of Dr. Parr will not
easily believe that any handwriting could be more puzzling. A
Fellow of Magdalen College (who himself told me the circumstance)
received one day a note from Parr, to say that he was on his way to




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.              63
Rolmney the painter used to say that the Grecian
architecture was the invention of glorious men, but
the Gothic that of gods.
Thomas Grenville'  told me that he was present
in the House when Lord c orth, suddenly rising from
his seat and going out, carried off on the hilt of his
sword the wig of Welbore Ellis, who was stooping
to take up some papers.-I have myself often seen
Lord North in the House.  While sitting there, he
would frequently hold a handkerchief to his face;
and once, after a long debate, when somebody said
to him, "My lord, I fear you have been asleep," he
replied, " I wish I had."
Sheridan, Tickell, and the rest of their set delighted in all sorts of practical jokes. For instance,
while they were staying with Mr. t and Mrs. Crewe
Oxford, would sup with him that night, and would be glad to have
two eggs (so my informant read the words) got ready for his supper.
Accordingly, on his arrival, the eggs were served up in all due form
to the hungry Doctor, who no sooner saw them than he flew into a
violent passion. Instead of eggs he had written lobsters.-ED.
* The Right Honourable T. G.-ED.
t Raised to the peerage (as Lord Crewe) in 1806.-ED.




64               RECOLLECT'IONS OF TIIE
(at Crewe Hall), Mrs. Sheridan  and Mrs. Crewe
would be driving out in the carriage, Sheridan and
Tickell * riding on before them: suddenly, the ladies
would see Sheridan stretched upon the ground, apparently in the agonies of death, and Tickell standing over him in a theatrical attitude of despair.
-Again, Mr. Crewe  expressed a great desire to
meet  Richardson  (author  of  The -Fugitive), of
whom he had heard Sheridan and Tickell talk with
much admiration.  " I have invited him here," said
Sheridan,   and he will positively be with us tomorrow."  Next day, accordingly, Richardson made
his appearance, and horrified the Crewes by the vulgarity and oddness of his manners and language.
The fact was, Sheridan had got one of Mr. Crewe's
tenants to personate Richardson for the occasion.-I
don't know whether Richardson's Fugitive is a good
comedy  or not; t but I know  that Mrs. Jordan
* Is it necessary to mention that Tickell (author of The Wreath of
Fashion, a poem, of Anticipation, a prose pamphlet, &c. &c.) was one
of Sheridan's most intimate friends; and that he and Sheridan had
married sisters?-ED.. It is far from a contemptible one; and it must have been extremely well acted; for, besides the two performers whom Mr. Rogers
mentions, Dodd, Parsons, Palmer, King, Miss Farren, and Miss Pope,
had parts in it.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       65
played very sweetly in it, and that Wewitzer performed a Frenchman most amusingly.
I'll tell you another of Sheridan's youthful
pranks. One night, as he, Fitzpatrick, and Lord
John Townshend, came out of Drury-lane Theatre,
they observed, among the vehicles in waiting, a very
handsome phaeton with a groom in it. Sheridan
asked the groom to let him get into the phaeton for
five minutes, just to try it. The man consented, and
stepped down. Sheridan got in, made Fitzpatrick
and Townshend get in also, and then drove off at full
speed for Vauxhall, whither they were pursued by
the groom and a great crowd, shouting and halooing after them. At Vauxhall the groom recovered
the phaeton, and was pacified by the present of a
few shillings. But it would seem that this exploit
had been attended with some unpleasant consequences to Sheridan, for he could not bear any allusion to it: le would say, "Pray do not mention
such an absurd frolic."
I was present on the second day of Hastings's
trial in Westminster Hall; when Sheridan was
listened to with such attention that you might have
heard a pin drop.-During one of those days, Sheri



66                RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
dan, having  observed Gibbon among the audience,
took  occasion to mention " the luminous author of
The Decline and Fall." X   After he had finished,
one  of his friends reproached him  with flattering
Gibbon.  " Why, what did I say  of him? " asked
Sheridan.-" You called him the luminous author,"
&c. —" Luminous! oh, I meant-voluminous."
Sheridan once said to me, " When posterity read
the speeches of Burke, they will hardly be able to
believe that, during his life-time, he was not considered as a first-rate speaker, not even as a secondrate one."
When the Duke of York was obliged to retreat
before the French,t Sheridan gave as a toast, " The
Duke of York and his brave followers."
* But, as reported in The Morning Chronicle, June 14, 1788, the
expression used by Sheridan was "the correct periods of Tacitus
or the lumninous page of Gibbon." —" Before my departure from England, I was present at the august spectacle of Mr. Hastings's trial in
Westminster Hall. It is not my province to absolve or condemn the
Governor of India; but Mr. Sheridan's eloquence demanded my applause; nor could I hear without emotion the personal compliment
which he paid me in the presence of the British nation." Gibbon's
Memoirs, &c. p. 172, ed. 4to.-ED.
f On the campaigns of his Royal Highness, see Memoir of the
Duke of York in The Gentleman's Magazine for January  1827,
pp. 71, 2, 3.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 67
Sheridan was dining one day at my house when
I produced the versified translation of Aristtenetus,*
saying, " You are guilty of this."   HIe made no reply, but took it, and put it, with a smile, into his
pocket (from  which, of course, I drew it out). What
an odd fancy, to turn Aristnenetus into verse!  Hallied, who assisted Sheridan in that translation, published imitations of MIartial, and some of them  are
very good.
I have seen Sheridan in company with the famous Pamela.t   She  was  lovely —q1uite  radiant
with beauty; and Sheridan either was, or pretended
to be violently in love with her.  On one occasion,
I remember that he kept labouring the whole evening at a copy of verses in French, which he intended
to present to her, every now and then writing down
* Printed, without the translator's name, in 1771.-ED.
t Madame de Genlis's adopted daughter, who was married ^t
Tournay, in 1792, to Lord Edward Fitzgerald.  According to
Madame de Genlis, in her Mnemors, two days before she and
Pamela left England, Sheridan declared himself, in her presence,
the lover of Pamela, who accepted his hand with pleasure; and it
was settled that they should be married-"on our return from
France, which was expected to take place in a fortnight."  See
Menoirs of Sheridan, vol. ii. 196, ed. 1827, by Moore, who suspects, not
without good reason, that in this affair Sheridan was only amusing
himself.-ED.




68              RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
a word or two on a slip of paper with a pencil. The
best of it was, that he understood French very imperfectly.
I prefer Sheridan's Rivacls to his Scool for Scandcld: exquisite humour pleases me more than the
finest wit.
Sheridan was a great artist: what colld be more
happy in expression than the last of these lines? you
may see it illustrated in the Park every Sunday:
" Hors'd in Cheapside, scarce yet the gayer spark
Achieves the Sunday triumph of the Park;
Scarce yet you see him, dreading to be late,
Scour the New Road and dash through Grosvenor Gate;
Anxious-yet timorous too-his steed to show,
The hack Bucephalus of Rotten Row.
Careless he seems, yet vigilantly sly,
Woos the stray glance of ladies passing by,
While his off-heel, insidiously aside,
Provokes the caper which he seems to chide."*
I regret that M3oore should have printed those
memoranda which prove how painfully Sheridan ela* Prologue to Pizarro (but originally written for, and spoken
before, Lady Craven's Jinwizature Picture).-Ei).




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         69
borated his compositions; for, though the judicious
few will feel that Sheridan was quite right in doing
so, the public generally will think the less of him
for it.-No wonder that those' memoranda were extant: Sheridan was in the habit of putting by, not
only all papers written by himself, but all others
that came into his hands. Ogle told me that, after
his death, he found in his desk sundry unopened
letters written by his (Ogle's) mother, who had sent
them to Sheridan to be fianked.
Sheridan did not display his admirable powers in
company till he had been warmed by wine. During
the earlier part of dinner he was generally heavy and
silent; and I have heard him, when invited to drink
a glass of wine, reply,  No, thlank you; I'll take-a
little small beer."  After dinner, when he had had
a tolerable quantity of wine, he was brilliant indeed.
But when he went on swallowing too much, he became downright stupid: and I once, after a dinnerparty at the house of Edwards the bookseller in
Pall Mall, walked with him to Brookes's, when he
had absolutely lost the use of speech.
Sheridan, Sir Walter (then Mr.) Scott, and
Moore were one day dining with me, and Sheridan




70                 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
was talking in his very best style, when, to my great
vexation, Moore (who has that sort of restlessness
which  never allows him  to  be happy where he is)
suddenly  interrupted   Sheridan   by   exclaiming,
"Isn't it time to go to Lydia White's? " 
During  his last illness, the medical attendants
apprehending that they would be obliged to perform   an  operation  on him, asked him   "if he had
ever undergone one."-" Never," replied Sheridan,
" except when sitting for my picture, or having my
hair cut."
Sheridan had very fine eyes, and  he was not a
little vain of them.   He said  to  me  on his deathbed, "Tell Lady Besborough that my eyes will look
up to the coffin-lid as brightly as ever."
* Miss Lydia White (long since dead) was a lady who delighted in giving parties to as many celebrated people as she could
collect. The following instance of her readiness in reply was communicated to me by my friend the Rev. W. Harness.  "At one of
Lydia White's small and most agreeable dinners in Park Street, the
company (most of them, except the hostess, being Whigs) were discussing in rather a querulous strain the desperate prospects of their
party.'Yes,' said Sidney Smith,' we are in a most deplorable
condition: we must do something to help ourselves; I think we had
better sacrifice a Tory virgin.' This was pointedly addressed to Lydia
White, who, at once catching and applying the allusion to Iphigenia,
answered,'I believe there is nothing the Whigs would not do to raise
the wind.' "-En.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 71
Soon after his death, Lord Holland wrote a short
biographical sketch of him, in which it is stated that
he showed daring the closing scene a deep sense of
devotion. But, on my asking the Bishop of London,
who had been called in to read prayers to him, what
were the religious feelings of Sheridan in his last
moments, the answer was, " I had no means of knowing; for when I read the prayers, he was totally
insensible; Mlrs. Sheridan raising him  up, and joining his hands together." *
In  his dealings with the world, Sheridan certainly carried the privileyes of genius as far as they
were ever carried by man.
We used all to read and like Tickell's Wreath of
* Let us hear, however, what Smyth says on this point in his
(privately-printed) Memoir of Mr. Slieridan.  "But the next day
he [Sheridan] was not better, and I never saw him. I talked about
him, while I sat with Mrs. Sheridan; as much, at least, as I thought
she chose. I durst not ask much. She told me she had sent for
her friend, Dr. Howley, then Bishop of London, who had instantly
come up from Oxfordshire to pray by him.'And Mr. Sheridan,' I
ventured to say,'what of him?''I never saw,' she replied,'such
awe as there was painted in his countenance-I shall never forget
it."' " p. 68.-ED.




72               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Fashion, and his other pieces, as they came out.  I
can still repeat several of the songs in his opera, The
Ccarnivc  of Ienice,* though they are only so-so:
here is part of one of them;
"Soon as the busy day is o'er,
And evening comes with pleasant shade,
We gondoliers, from shore to shore,
Merrily ply our jovial trade;
And while the moon shines on the stream,
And as soft music breathes around,
The feathering oar returns the gleam,
And dips in concert to the sound.
Down by some convent's mouldering walls
Oft we bear th' enamour'd youth;
Softly the watchful fair he calls,
Who whispers vows of love and truth," &c.
It is quite true, as stated in several accounts of
him, that Fox, when a very young man, was a prodigious dandy,-wearing a little odd French hat,
shoes with red heels, &c.  He and Lord Carlisle
* No portion of this opera, except the songs, was ever printed.See note, p. 64.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       73
once travelled from Paris to Lyons for the express
purpose of buying waistcoats; and during the whole
journey they talked about nothing else.
Fox (in his earlier days, I mean), Sheridan, Fitzpatrick, &c., led such a life! Lord Tankerville assured me that he has played cards with Fitzpatrick
at Brookes's from ten o'clock at night till near six
o'clock the next afternoon, a waiter standing by to
tell them  "whose deal it was," they being too
sleepy to know.
After losing large sums at hazard, Fox would go
home, —not to destroy himself, as his friends sometimes feared, but-to sit down quietly, and read
Greek.
He once won about eight thousand pounds; and
one of his bond-creditors, who soon heard of his
good luck, presented himself, and asked for payment. "Impossible, sir," replied Fox; "I must
first discharge my debts of honour."  The bondcreditor remonstrated.  "Well, sir, give me your
bond."  It was delivered to Fox, who tore it in
pieces and threw them into the fire. " Now, sir,"
said Fox, "my debt to you is a debt of honour;'
and immediately paid him.
4




74           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
When I became acquainted with Fox, he had
given up that kind of life entirely, and resided in
the most perfect sobriety and regularity at St. Anne's
Hill. There he was very happy, delighting in study,
in rural occupations and rural prospects. He would
break from a criticism on Porson's Euripides to look
for the little pigs. I remember his calling out to
the Chertsey hills, when a thick mist which had for
some time concealed them, rolled away, "Good
morning to you!  I am glad to see you again."
There was a walk in his grounds which led to a lane
through which the farmers used to pass; and he
would stop them, and talk to them, with great interest, about the price of turnips, &c. I was one
day with him in the Louvre, when he suddenly
turned from the pictures, and, looking out at the
window, exclaimed, "This hot sun will burn up my
turnips at St. Anne's Hill.
In London mixed society Fox conversed little;
but at his own house in the country, with his intimate friends, he would talk on for ever, with all the
openness and simplicity of a child: he has continued
talking to me for half-an-hour after he had taken
up his bed-room candle.-I have seen it somewhere




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS. 
stated that Fox liked to talk about great people:
nothing can be more untrue; he hardly ever alluded to them.  I remember, indeed, that he once
mentioned to me Queen Charlotte, calling her " that
bad woman."
He was very shy, and disliked being stared at.
Windham  and I accompanied him  one night to
Vauxhall, where he was much annoyed at being
followed about, as a spectacle, from place to place.
On such occasions he was not only shy, but gauche.
One morning at his own house, while speaking
to me of his travels, Fox could not recollect the
name of a particular town in Holland, and was much
vexed at the treacherousness of his memory. He
had a dinner-party that day; and, just as he had
applied the carving knife to the sirloin, the name of
the town having suddenly occurred to him, he roared
out exultingly, to the astonishment of the company,
" Gorcum, Gorcum! "
Fox saw Voltaire at Ferney. Their interview
was described to me in a letter by Uvedale Price,*
who went there with him:'but unfortunately I no
e Created a baronet in 1828.-A small portion of that letter,
about Fox's visit to Voltaire, has lately been printed in Memoricls
and Correspondence of C. J. Fox, edited by Lord J. Russell, vol. i. 46.




76                RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
longer possess that letter; I lent it to Lord Holland,
and never could get it back.
-An account of the same visit, from the pen of the same writer,
occurs in a letter to my unfortunate friend the late E. H. Barker,
dated March 24, 1827, from which I shall not scruple to make a long
extract:"But among the characters of the second generation so ably
drawn by Mr. Butler [in his Reminiscences], to me much the most
interesting is that of Charles Fox. Our friendship and intimacy,
which began at Eton, continued without interruption through life.
While Etonians, we acted together in the plays given at Holland
House, which, from the high character and connections of its owner,
from the premature talents of C. Fox, two years younger than myself,
and from the peculiarly lovely countenance and sweet-toned voice of
Lady Sarah Lenox, our Jane Shore (whom, as Gloucester, I could
hardly bring myself to speak to as harshly as my character required),
these plays had at the time great celebrity. We were at Oxford together, were almost constantly together at Florence, where we studied
Italian under the same master at the same time.
"From  Rome we travelled together along the eastern coast to
Venice, and thence to Turin, where we met by appointment our excellent friend and schoolfellow, Lord Fitzwilliam, who is mentioned
by Mr. Butler in a few words, but most impressively, as spoken of
him by Fox. All this, I am aware, can have little interest for you 
but having the excuse of Mr. Butler's reminiscences, I have indulged myself in putting down mine, as they recall a period of great
and unmixed delight.  I then witnessed daily and hourly that
characteristic good nature, that warm and unalterable attachment
to his friends of which Mr. B. speaks in so impressive a manner:
and likewise witnessed on more than one occasion, what was no
less characteristic, his abhorrence of any thing like tyranny, oppression, or cruelty. Having got so far on my journey, I shall e'en
proceed with it: from  Turin we all three set out for Geneva, but




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                   77
It is well known that Fox visited Gibbon at Lansanne; and he was much  gratified  by  the visit.
Gibbon, he said, talked a great deal, walking up and
down the room, and generally ending his sentences
with a genitive case; every now and then, too, casting
a look of complacency on his own portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, which hung over the chimney-piece,
-that wonderful portrait, in which, while the oddness and vulgarity of the features are refined away,
the likeness is perfectly preserved.-Fox used to say
that Gibbon's History was immortal, because nobody
could do without it,-nobody, without vast expense
of time and labour, could get elsewhere the informawent out of our direct road to that most singular and striking place,
the Grande Chartreuse, so finely described in Gray's Alcaic Ode.
From Geneva Fox and I went to Voltaire at Ferney, having obtained a permission then seldom granted. It is an event in one's
life to have seen and heard that extraordinary man: he was old and
infirm, and, in answer to Fox's note and request, said that the name
of Fox was sufficient, and that he could not refuse seeing us,'mais
que nous venions pour l'exterrer.' He conversed in a lively manner,
walking with us to and fro in a sort of alley; and at parting gave us
a list of some of his works, adding,' Ce sont des livres de quoi il faut se
munir,' they were such as would fortify our young minds against religious prejudices. Fox quitted us at Geneva, went to England, and
commenced his political career. I went with Fitzwilliam through the
finest parts of Switzerland, and then down the Rhine to Spa, and met
him again at Paris: and there ends my foreign journal, and high
time it should."




T8              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
tion which it contains.-I think, and so Lord Grenville thought, that the introductory chapters are the
finest part of that history: it was certainly more
difficult to write them than the rest of the work.
Fox had the highest admiration of Lord UNorth;
he considered him  a consummate debater.   He
thought very highly too of Dr. Laurence's speeches;
and said that they only failed in making a deep impression because his manner of delivery was so bad.
He disliked  Sheridan's famous speeches at Hastings's trial * yet they fascinated Burke; and to
them  Fox attributed the change of style which is
visible in Burke's later compositions.  He did not
greatly admire Burke's celebrated Reflections.
Never in my life did I hear any thing equal to
Fox's speeches in reply,-they were wonderful. —
Burke did not do himself justice as a speaker: his
manner was hurried, and he always seemed to be
in a passion.t-Pitt's voice sounded as if he had
worsted in his mouth.
* In Westminster Hall.-It must be remembered, however, that
the perhaps more famous speech in the House of Commons, 7th Feb.
1787, in which Sheridan brought forward against Iastings the charge
relative to the Begum Princesses of Oude, was publicly eulogised by
Fox as a matchless piece of eloquence.-ED.
t " Burke," said Mr. Maltby (see notice prefixed to the Porso



TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                79
Porson said that " Pitt carefully considered his
sentences before he uttered them; but that Fox
threw himself into the middle of his, and left it to
God Almighty to get him out again." "
Malone was one day walking down Dover Street
with Burke, when the latter all at once drew himself up and carried his head aloft with an air of
great hauteur.  Malone perceived that this was occasioned by  the approach  of Fox, who presently
passed them  on the other side of the street.  After
Fox had gone by, Burke asked Malone very eagerly, " Did he look at me?"
Fox once said to me that "Burke was a most
impracticable person, a most unmanageable  colleague,-that he never would support any measure,
howiever convinced he might be in his heart of its
niana in this volume), " always disappointed me as a speaker. I have
heard him, during his speeches in the House, make use of the most
vulgar expressions, such as'three nips of a straw,''three skips of a
louse, &c.; and, on one occasion when I was present, he introduced,
as an illustration, a most indelicate story about a French king, who
asked his physician why his natural children were so much finer than
his legitimate."-ED.
Porson was thinking of Sterne. "I begin with writing the first
sentence-and trusting to Almighty God for the second."  Tristram
Shandy, vol. v. 192, ed. 1775.-ED.




80             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
utility, if it had been first proposed by another: "
and he once used these very words, "After all,
Blrke was a damned wrong-headed fellow, through
his whole life jealous and obstinate."
Mrs. Crewet told me that, on some occasion,
when it was remarked that Fox still retained his
early love for France and every thing French, Burke
said, "Yes; he is like a cat,-he is fond of the
house, though the family be gone."
I once dined at Mr. Stone's (at Hackney) with
Fox, Sheridan, Talleyrand, Madame de Genlis, Pamela, and some other celebrated persons of the time.
A natural son of Fox, a dumb boy (who was the
very image of his father, and who died a few years
after, when about the age of fifteen) was also there,
having come, for the occasion, from Braidwood's
Academy.  To him Fox almost entirely confined his
attention, conversing with him by the fingers: and
* Cassius. But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?
I think he will stand very strong with us.
*     *      *     *      *     *      *      *
Brutus. 0 name him not: let us not break with him;
For he will neverfollow any thing
That other men begin."
Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar, act. ii. sc. 1.-ED.
t Afterwards Lady Crewe.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        81
their eyes glistened as they looked at each other.
Talleyrand remarked to me, " how strange it was, to
dine in company with the first orator in Europe, and
only see him talk with his fiAgers! -That day I
offended Madame de Genlis by praising the Contes
Moraux of Marmontel, with whom she had quarrelled violently.
At a dinner-party, where I was, Fox met Aikin,
" I am  greatly pleased with your.Miscellcneous
Pieces, Mr. Aikin," said Fox (alluding to the volume
written partly by Aikin, and partly by his sister Mrs.
Barbauld). Aikin bowed. "I particularly admire,"
continued Fox, "your essay Against Inconsistency
in our Expectations."  "That," replied Aikin, "is
my sister's."-" I like much," resumed Fox, "your
essay On Monastic Institutions." " That," answered
Aikin, "is also my sister's."  Fox thought it best
to say no more about the book.
I was present at a dinner-party given by William
Smith in Westminster, when Fox would not take
the slightest notice of Home Tooke,-wonld not
look at him, nor seem to hear any of the good things
he said. It was the most painful scene of the kind
I was ever witness to, except what occurred at my
4*




82             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
own house, when the Duke of Wellington treated
Lord Holland much in the same way.
At another of Smith's dinners, the conversation
turned on Wilberforce; when somebody put the
qnery,-If Wilberforce were compelled to desert
either the cause of the slaves, or the party of Mr.
Pitt, to which would he adhere?  "Oh," said Fox,
he would be for Barabbas."  But that was said by
Fox merely as a joke; for he greatly respected Pitt;
and I remember that, on another occasion at Smith's,
when Tierney, &c., endeavoured to persuade Fox
that Pitt was not uttering his real sentiments about
the abolition of the slave-trade, he would not be so
persuaded. —Pitt, too, had the highest respect for
Fox.  One night, after Fox had been speaking, Lord
Dudley, coming out of the house with Pitt, began
to abuse Fox's speech.  "Don't disparage it," said
Pitt;   nobody could have made it but himself."
The Duke of Richmond, Fox, and Burke, were
once conversing about history, philosophy, and poetry.  The Duke said, "I prefer reading history to
* "During the debates on the war with France, I heard Fox characterise a speech of Pitt as' one that would have excited the admiration and envy of Demosthenes.'" Ma. MALTBY (see note prefixed to
the Porsoniaa in this volume).-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.               83
philosophy or poetry, because history is truth." Both
Fox and Burke disagreed with him: they thought
that poetry was truth, being a representation of human nature: and Fox had some thoughts of writing
an essay on the subject.-Lady Glenbervie told me
that her father Lord North disliked reading history,
because he always doubted its truth.*
In 1792 the Duke of Portland called  a meeting of the Whigs at Burlington House, to consider
the propriety of their supporting the Proclamation
against seditious writings and democratical conspiracies. Francis Duke of Bedford went there. On
entering the room, he said to the Duke of Portland,'Is Mr. Fox here "   "No."  " Has he been invited?"    "No." —"Then," replied  the Duke  of
Bedford," I must wish you all good morning: " and
immediately withdrew.t  The Duke of Bedford was
* "Thinking to amuse my father once, after his retirement from
the ministry, I offered to read a book of history.'Any thing but
history,' said he;'for history must be false. "  Walpolian7a, vol. i. 60.
-ED.
f Many years after I had written down this anecdote, Mr. Rogers
remarked to me "how poorly" it is told in Lord Holland's Memoirs of
the Whig Party, i. 16 (1852): "The Duke of Bedford, on hearing that
Mr. Fox was not likely to come, drily observed,'Then I am sure I
have nothing to do here,' and left the room."-ED.




84           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
stanch to his principles till the hour of his death;
and we owe him much.
Fox used to declare of himself that he was "a
most painstaking person."  When he came into office, finding that his handwriting was very bad, he
took lessons to improve it.
He one day pronounced himself to be a bad
carver, and, when Mrs. Fox confirmed it, he said,
" Yes, my dear, I thought you'd agree with me."
I saw Lunardi make the first ascent in a balloon
which had been witnessed in England. It was from
the Artillery Ground. Fox was there with his
brother General F. The crowd was immense. Fox,
happening to put his hand down to his watch, found
another hand upon it, which he immediately seized.
" My friend," said he to the owner of the strange
hand,  you have chosen an occupation which will be
your ruin at last."-" 0, Mr. Fox," was the reply,
"forgive me, and let me go! I have been driven to
this course by necessity alone; my wife and children
are starving at home."  Fox, always tender-hearted,
slipped a guinea into the hand, and then released it.
On the conclusion of the show, Fox was proceeding
to look what o'clock it was. " Good God," cried he,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       85
"my watch is gone!"'-"Yes," answered General
F., "I know it is; I saw your friend take it.""Saw him take it! and you made no attempt to
stop him  "-" Really, you and he appeared to be
on such good terms with each other, that I did not
choose to interfere."
I was walking through the Louvre with Fox, when
he all but cut Mackintosh, passing him with a nod
and a "How d'ye do 2" and he gave me to understand that he had done so because he was angry at
Mackintosh for having accepted a place in India from
the Tories. Fitzpatrick, however, told me the real
cause of Fox's anger; and it was this; —MVtrs. Mackintosh had not called upon Mrs. Fox, whom Fox had recently acknowledged as his wife. Such slight things
sometimes influence the conduct of great men.
Most unfortunately, one morning during breakfast at St. Anne's Hill, I repeated and praised Goldsmith's song, " When lovely woman stoops to folly,"
&c., quite forgetting that it must necessarily hurt
the feelings of Mrs. Fox. She seemed a good deal
discomposed by it. Fox merely remarked,'a Some
people write damned nonsense."
When Buonaparte said to Fox, he was con



86             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
vinced that Windham  was implicated in the contrivance of the Infernal Machine, Fox warmly repelled such an aspersion on Windham's character,
assuring the First Consul that no Englishman would
degrade himself by being concerned in so vile a
business. I told this to Windham, who answered very
coldly, "Well, I should have said the same of him
under similar circunstances."-T have heard Windham speak very disrespectfully of Fox in the House,
after their political quarrel.
Fox said that Sir Joshua Reynolds never enjoyed
Richmond,@  that he used to say the human face
was his landscape.  Fox did not much admire Sir
Joshua's pictures in the grand style; he greatly preferred those of a playful character: he did not like
much even the Ugolino; but he thought the boys
in the Nativity were charming.
Once, at Paris, talking to Fox about Le Sueur's
pictures, I said that I doubted if any artist had ever
excelled Le Sueur in painting white garments. Fox
replied that he thought Andrea Sacchi superior to
* Where Reynolds had a villa.-In Mr. Rogers's collection of pictures is an exquisite landscape by Sir Joshua —a view from Richmond
Hill, with the features of the scene a little altered.-ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                   87
Le Sueur in that respect.  I mention  this to  show
that Fox was not only fond of painting, but had
given minute attention to it.*
IIe was an eager chess-player: I have heard him
say, on coming down to  breakfast, that he had not
been  able  to  sleep for thinking  about some particular move.
While young Betty was in all his glory, I went
with Fox and  Mrs. Fox, after dining with them  in
Arlington Street, to see him act Hamlet; and, during the play-scene, Fox, to my infinite surprise, said,
" This is finer than Garrick." t-How  wise it was in
Kemble and Mrs. Siddons quietly to withdraw  from
the stage during the Betty furor, and then as quietly
to return to it, as if nothing unusual had occurred!
* For an account of the delight which Fox received from visiting
the Louvre, see Trotter's Mlemoirs of Fox, p. 209.-ED.
t Such criticism will now seem (and undoubtedly is) preposterous. But we must recollect that there was a marvellous charm
about the young Roscius.  " Northcote then spoke of the boy, as he
always calls him (Master Betty). He asked if I had ever seen him
act; and I said, Yes, and was one of his admirers.  He answered,'Oh! yes, it was such a beautiful effusion of natural sensibility; and
then that graceful play of the limbs in youth gave such an advantage
over every one about him. Humphreys (the artist) said, he had never
seen the little Apollo off the pedestal before.'" Hazlitt's Conversations
of Nortlicote, p. 23.-ED.




88           RECOLLECTIONS OF THF
Fox said that Barry's Romeo was superior to
Garrick's.
"If I had a son," observed Fox, "I should insist
on his frequently writing English verses, whether
he had a taste for poetry or not, because that sort of
composition forces one to consider very carefully
the exact meanings of words."
I introduced Wordsworth to Fox, having taken
him with me to a ball given by Mrs. Fox.  "I am
very glad to see you, Mr. Wordsworth, though I am
not of your faction," was all that Fox said to him,meaning that he admired a school of poetry different
from that to which Wordsworth belonged.
Fox considered Burnet's style to be perfect. We
were once talking of an historian's introducing occasionally the words of other writers into his work
without marking them as quotations, when Fox said,
" that the style of some of the authors so treated
might need a little mending, but that Burnet's required none."
He thought that Robertson's account of Columbus was very pleasingly written.
He was so fond of Dryden, that he had some idea
of editing his works. It was absurd, he said, not to




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            89
print the originals by Chaucer along with Dryden's
versions of them; and absurd in Malone to print all
Dryden's Prefaces by themselves.  " Dryden's imitations of Horace," he would say, "are better than
the originals: how fine this is!Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have liv'd to-day;
Be fair or foul, or rain or shine,
The joys I have possess'd, in spite of Fate, are mine;
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.' "*
One forenoon, at his own house, Fox was talking to me very earnestly about Dryden, when he
suddenly recollected that (being in office) he ought
to make his appearance at the King's levee. It was
so late that, not having time to change his dress, he
set off for Buckingham  House,   accoutred as he
was;" and when somebody remarked to him  that
his coat was not quite the thing, he replied, " No
* Twenty-ninth Ode of the First Book of Horace paraphrased, &c.
-ED.




90               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
matter; he [i. e. George the Third] is so blind that
he can't distinguish what I have on."
There was a period of his life when Fox used to
say that he could not forgive Milton for having occasioned him the trouble of reading through a poem
(Paradise Lost), three parts of which were not worth
reading. lie afterwards, however, estimated it more
justly.* Milton's prose works he never could endure.
He said that Mrs. Sheridan's Sidney Biddul/h
was the best of all modern novels. (By the by, Sheridan used to declare that he had never read it! t)
When Fox was a young man, a copy of Massinger accidentally fell into his hands: he read it,
and, for some time after, could talk of nothing but
Massinger.
He thought so highly of the JIsacco of Metastasio, that he considered it as one of the four most
beautiful compositions produced during the century;
* In a letter to Trotter, after noticing the predominance of "the
grand and terrific and gigantic" in iEschylus, Fox continues; "This
never suits my taste; and I feel the same objection to most parts
of the Paradise Lost, though in that poem there are most splendid
exceptions, Eve, Paradise, &c." Trotter's.Memoirs of Fox, p. 520.
-ED.
t The incident, in The Schoolfor Scandal, of Sir Oliver's presenting
himself to his relations in disguise, is manifestly taken by Sheridan
from his mother's novel.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAkMEL ROGERS.          91
the other three being Pope's Eloisca to Abelard, Voltaire's Zaire, and Gray's Elegy.*
" No one," said Fox,  could be an ill-tempered
man who wrote so much nonsense as Swift did."
His admiration of Ariosto was extreme.-He
thought Petrarch's Latin  letters better than his
Sonnets.
He once pointed out to me, as excellent, this
passage of Paley. " The distinctions of civil life are
almost always insisted upon too much, and urged too
far.  Whatever, therefore, conduces to restore the
level, by qualifying the dispositions which grow out
of great elevation or depression of rank, improves
the character on both sides. Now things are made
to appear little by being placed beside what is
great.  In which manner, superiorities, that occupy
the whole field of the imagination, will vanish or
shrink to their proper diminutiveness, when compared with the distance by which even the highest
of men are removed from the Supreme Being, and
this comparison is naturally introduced by all acts
of joint worship. If ever the poor man holds up his
* Yet, we have been told, Fox did not consider the Elegy as Gray's
best poem: see p. 36.-ED.




92             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
head, it is at church; if ever the rich man views him
with respect, it is there: and both will be the better, and the public profited, the oftener they meet
ill a situation, in which the consciousness of dignity
in the one is tempered and mitigated, and the spirit
of the other erected and confirmed." 
Fox used to read Homer through once every
year.  On my asking him, " Which poem  had you
rather have written, the Ili/ad or the Odyssey   " he
answered,   I know  which  I had rather read"
(meaning the Odyssey t).
Euripides was his grand favorite among the
Greek poets.  He fancied that Shakespeare must
have met with some translation of Euripides,: for he
could trace resemblances between passages of their
dramas: e. g. what Alcestis in her last moments says
about her servants is like what the dying Queen
Katharine (in Henry the Eighth) says about hers, &c.
lie considered the (Edipus Coloneus as the best
play of Sophocles; and he admired greatly his Electra.
He did not much like Cesar's Comnmentaries;
* Mor. and Pol. Philosophy, b. v. ch. 4.-ED.
" "I suppose," says Fox, in a letter to Trotter, " as soon as you
have done the Iliad, you will read the Odyssey, which, though certainly
not so fine a poem, is, to my taste, still pleasanter to read." Trotter's
Msemoirs of Fox, p. 494.-ED.     t A mere fancy.-ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                    93
they appeared to him rather dry and deficient in
thought.  He said  that the  letter to  Oppius  and
Balbus,* which  is very little known, was the piece
that did Caesar most honour; and that he had once
transcribed it with  the intention  of sending  it to
Buonaparte, when the news of the Duke d'Enghien's
death made him change his mind.
He observed that the Greek historians generally
* Extant in the collection of Cicero's Epist. ad Att. lib. ix. 7. c.
It was written at the commencement of the civil war; and (in the
translation of Heberden) is as follows: "I am very glad that you
express in your letter how much you approve of what has been done
at Corfinium.  I shall willingly adopt your advice; and the more
so, because of my own accord I had resolved to show every lenity,
and to use my endeavours to conciliate Pompeius. Let us try by
these means if we can regain the affections of all people, and render our victory lasting. Others from  their cruelty have not been
able to avoid the hatred of mankind, nor long to retain their victory;
except L. Sulla alone, whom I do not mean to imitate. Let this be
a new method of conquering, to fortify ourselves with kindness and
liberality.  How this may be done, some things occur to my own
mind, and many others may be found. To this subject I request your
attention.  I have taken Cn. Magius, Pompeius's praefect. I accordingly put in practice my own principle, and immediately released
him. Already two of Pompeius's prsefects of engineers have fallen
into my power, and have been released. If they are disposed to be
grateful, they should exhort Pompeius to prefer my friendship to that
of these people, who have always been the worst enemies to him and
to me; by whose artifices it has happened that the Republic has come
into this condition."-ED.




94           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
told nothing but truth, while the Latin historians
generally told nothing but lies.
He was a constant reader of Virgil; and had
been so from a very early period. There is at Holland House a copy of Virgil covered with Fox's
manuscript notes, written when he was a boy, and
expressing the most enthusiastic admiration of that
poet.
He once told me that the extracts which he had
seen from Hippocrates had given him a high opinion
of that writer; that one of his aphorisms was excellent,-" The second-best remedy is better than the
best, if the patient likes it best;"-and that he intended to read his works.
Afterwards, calling upon him in Stable Yard
when he happened to be ill, I found him reading
Hippocrates.-On that occasion I said I wished that
the new administration would put down the east
wind by an act of Parliament. He replied, smiling
(and waking, as it were, from one of his fits of torpor), that they would find it difficult to do that, but
that they would do as much good in that as they
would in any thing else.
He said that Lea'r, Othello, and IMacbeth were




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        95
the best of Shakespeare's works; that the first act
of Hamlet was pre-eminent; that the ghost in that
play was quite unequalled,-there was nothing like
it; and that Hamlet was not mad.-On another
occasion he said that the character of Macbeth was
very striking and original,-that at first he is an
object of our pity, and that he becomes gradually
worse and worse, till at last he has no virtue left
except courage.
Hie thought Raleigh a very fine writer. Bolingbroke he did not like. Surrey was "too old" for
him.
He said that Congreve's Way of the World was
a charming comedy, but his iMourning Bride altogether execrable; that Sheridan's Pizarro was the
worst thing possible.
He had never been able to read Mickle's usiad
through. He once met Mickle, and took a dislike
to him.
He was fond of the song " The heavy hours are
almost past," by Lord Lyttleton; whose son, he
said, was a very bad man,-downright wicked.
He thought Mrs. Barbauld's Life of Richardson
admirable; and regretted that she wasted her talents




96             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
in writing books for children (excellent as those
books might be), now that there were so many
pieces of that description.
Th/e Adventurer,, he said, was very poor; 7Tle
World far superior, and he had read it with pleasure.
He thought Tickell's   lines On the Death of
Addison quite perfect; and he liked a large portion
of his Kensington Gardens.
He often spoke with high praise of Cowper's
Epistle to Joseph H]ll. It was through Windham that
he first became acquainted with Cowper's poetry.
Very shortly before he died, he complained of
great uneasiness in his stomach; and Cline advised
him to try the effects of a cup of coffee. It was
accordingly ordered; but, not being brought so soon
as was expected, Mrs. Fox expressed some impatience; upon which Fox said, with his usual sweet
smile, "Remember, my dear, that good coffee cannot be made in a moment."
Lady Holland announced the death of Fox in
her own odd manner to those relatives and intimate
i " Tickells merit," Wordsworth remarked to me, "is not sufficiently known. I think him one of the very best writers of occasional verses."-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERBS        97
friends of his who were sitting in a room near his
bed-chamber, and waiting to hear that he had
breathed his last; —she walked through the room
with her apron thrown over her head.
Trotter's JMemoirs of Fox, though incorrect in
some particulars, is a very pleasing book. Trotter
died in Ireland; he was reduced to great straits;
and Mrs. Fox sent him, at different times, as much
as several hundred pounds, though she could ill
spare the money.
How fondly the surviving friends of Fox cherished his memory! Many years after his death, I
was at a fete given by the Duke of Devonshire at
Chiswick House. Sir Robert Adair and I wandered
about the apartments, up and down stairs. "In
which room did Fox expire? " asked Adair. I replied, "In this very rooiai."  Immediately Adair
burst into tears with a vehemence of grief such as
I hardly ever saw exhibited by a man.
Fox's Hi-story of the Early Part of the Reign
of James the Second has been greatly undervalued;
but it will be properly estimated in future times. It
contains charming passages. Here are two: when
I read them, I seem to listen to Fox conversing:5




98           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
"From the execution of the king to the death of
Cromwell, the government was, with some variation
of forms, in substance monarchical and absolute, as
a government established by a military force will
almost invariably be, especially when the exertions
of such a force are continued for any length of time.
If to this general rule our own age, and a people
whom their origin and near relation to us would almost warrant us to call our own nation, have afforded
a splendid and perhaps a solitary exception, we must
reflect not only, that a character of virtues so happily
tempered by one another, and so wholly unalloyed
with any vices, as that of Washington, is hardly to
be found in the pages of history, but that even
Washington himself might not have been able to
act his most glorious of all parts, without the existence of circumstances uncommonly favourable, and
almost peculiar to the country which was to be
the theatre of it. Virtue like his depends not indeed upon time or place; but although in no
country or time would he have degraded himself
into a Pisistratus, or a Caesar, or a Cromwell, he
might have shared the fate of a Cato or a De Witt;
or, like Ludlow  and Sydney, have mourned in




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        99
exile the lost liberties of his country." *-The other
passage is this:"But to Temple's sincerity his subsequent conduct gives abundant testimony. When he had reason to think that his services could no longer be
useful to his country, he withdrew  wholly from
public business, and resolutely adhered to the preference of philosophical retirement, which, in his
circumstances, was just, in spite of every temptation
which occurred to bring him back to the more active scene. The remainder of his life he seems to
have employed in the most noble contemplations
and the most elegant amusements; every enjoyment
heightened, no doubt, by reflecting on the honourable part he had acted in public affairs, and without
any regret on his own account (whatever he might
feel for his country) at having been driven from
them." t
Burke said to Mrs. Crewe:  "A dull proser is
more endurable than a dull joker."
He also said to her: " England is a moon shone
* P. 17.-ED.          f P. 26.-ED.
t Afterwards Lady Crewe.-ED.




100          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
upoll by France. France has all things within herself; and she possesses the power of recovering from
the severest blows. Englandis an artificial country: take away her commerce, and what has she?'
Foote was once talking away at a party, when a
gentleman said to him, " I beg your pardon, Mr.
Foote, but your handkerchief is half-out of your
pocket."-" Thank you, sir," answered Foote; "you
know the company better than I do."
Fox told me that Lord William Bentinck once
invited Foote to meet him and some others at dinner
in St. James's Street; and that they were rather
angry at Lord William for having done so, expecting that Foote would prove only a bore, and a check
on their conversation.   But," said Fox, "we soon
found that we were mistaken: whatever we talked
about,-whether fox-hunting, the turf, or any other
subject,-Foote instantly took the lead, and delighted us all."
Murphy who used to dwell with enthusiasm on
his recollections of Chatham's oratory, was once in
the gallery of the House with Foote, when Pitt




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       101
(Lord Chatham) was putting forth all his power in
an attack on Murray (Lord M1ansfield). " Shall we
go home now?" said Murphy, —  No," replied
Foote; "let us wait till he has made the little man
(Murray) vanish entirely.'
There was no end to Foote's jokes about Garrick's parsimony.   Garrick," said Foote, "lately
invited H-urd to dine with him in the Adelphi; and
after dinner, the evening being very warm, they
walked up and cown in front of the house. As they
passed and re-passed the dining-room windows, Garrick was in a perfect agony; for he saw that there
was a thief in one of the candles which were burning on the table: and yet Hurd was a person of
such consequence that he could not run away from
him to prevent the waste of his tallow."
At the Chapter Coffee-house, Foote and his
friends were making a contribution for the relief of
a poor fellow (a decayed player, I believe), who was
nick-named the Captain of the Four Winds, because
his hat was worn into four spouts. Each person of
the company dropped his mite into the hat, as it
was held out to him.  "If Garrick hears of this."
said Foote, "he will certainly send us Mis hat."




102           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
The then Duke of Cumberland (the foolish *
Duke, as he was called) came one night into Foote's
green-room  at the Haymarket Theatre.  " Well,
Foote," said he, " here I am, ready, as usual, to
swallow all your good things."-" Upon my soul,"
replied Foote, "your Royal Highness must have an
excellent digestion, for you never bring any up
again."
During my youth I used to go to the IHampstead
Assemblies, which were frequented by a great deal
of good company. There I have danced four or five
minuets in one evening.
Beau Nash was once dancing a minuet at Bath
with a Miss Lunn. She was so long of giving him
both her hanZds (the figure by which the lady, when
she thinks proper, brings the performance to a close),
that he lost all patience, and, suiting the words to
the tune (which was Mcarshat Saxe's minuet), he
sung out, as she passed him," Miss Lunn, Miss Lunn,
Will you never have done?"
* For a vindication of his Royal Highness from this epithet, see
Boaden's Life of Kelble, ii. 17. —ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      103
I always distrust the accounts of eminent men
by their contemporaries. None of us has any reason
to slander Homer or Julius Caesar; but we find it
very difficult to divest ourselves of prejudices when
we are writing about persons with whom we have
been acquainted.
Lord St. Helens (who had been ambassador to
Russia) told me, as a fact, this anecdote of the
Empress Catherine.  She frequently had little
whist-parties, at which she sometimes played, and
sometimes not. One night, when she was not playing, but walking about from  table to table, and
watching the different hands, she rang the bell to
summon the page-in-waiting from an ante-chamber.
No page appeared. She rang the bell again; and
again without effect. Upon this, she left the room,
looking daggers, and did not return for a very considerable time; the company supposing that the
unfortunate page was destined for the knout or Siberia. On entering the ante-chamber, the Empress
found that the page, like his betters, was busy at
whist, and that, when she had rung the bell, he
happened to have so very interesting a hand that




104           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
he could not make up his mind to quit it. Now,
what did the Empress do? she despatched the page
on her errand, and then quietly sat down to hold
his cards till he should return.
Lord St. Helens also told me that he and S6gur
were with the Empress in her carriage, when the
horses took fright, and ran furiously down hill. The
danger was excessive. When it was over the Empress said, "Mon 6toile vous a sauv6e."
Hare's wit, once so famous, owed perhaps not a
little to his manner of uttering it. Here is a specimen. Fox was sitting at Brookes's, in a very moody
humour, having lost a considerable sum  at cards,
and was indolently moving a pen backwards and
forwards over a sheet of paper. " What is he drawing?" said some one to Hare. "Any thing but a
draft," was the reply.
General Fitzpatrick was at one time nearly as
famous for his wit as Hare. During the latter part
of his long life he had withdrawn a good deal from
society. I took farewell of him the day but one




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       105
before he died. On the day immediately preceding
his death, I walked to his house in Arlington Street
to inquire for him; and, just as I reached the door,
Mrs. Fox was coming from it, sobbing violently.
Jekyll, too, was celebrated for his wit: but it
was of that kind which amuses only for the moment.
I remember that when Lady Cork gave a party at
which she wore a most enormous plume, Jekyll said,
"She was exactly a shuttle-cock,-all cork and
feathers."
While Rousseau was lodging in Chiswick Terrace, Fitzpatrick called upon him one day, and had
not been long in the room.when David Hume entered. Rousseau had lost a favourite dog; and
Hume, having exerted himself to recover it, now
brought it back to its master, who thanked him
with expressions of the most fervent gratitude, and
shed tears of joy over the animal.
Fitzpatrick, who had been much in the company
of David Hume, used always to-speak of him as "a
delicious creature."
5*




106          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Hume told Cadell the bookseller that he had a
great desire to be introduced to as many of the persons who had written against him as could be collected; and requested Cadell to bring him and them
together. Accordingly, Dr. Douglas, Dr. Adams,
&c. &c., were invited by Cadell to dine at his house
in order to meet HIume.  They came; and Dr.
Price, who was of the party, assured me that they
were all delighted with David.
I knew Murphy long and intimately: I was introduced to him by the Piozzis at Streatham.
On the first night of any of his plays, if the
slightest symptoms of disapprobation were shown by
the audience, Murphy always left the house, and took
a walk in Covent-Garden Market: then, after having
composed himself, he would return to the theatre.
Garrick once, in conversation with Murphy, having insisted that it was much more difficult to write
a play whose strength lay in the plot than one which
depended on the dialogue for its effect, Murphy
went to his favourite haunt, the Talbot at Richmond,
and wrote, nearly at a single sitting, a comedy of the




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      107
former description (I forget its name), which, very
soon after, he presented to Garrick.
The days had been when Murphy lived in the
best society, and used to walk about arm-in-arm with
Lord Loughborough: but I have seen them meet in
the street, and salute each other very formally.
Towards the close of his life, till he received a
pension of 2001. per annum from the king,* Murphy
was in greatpecuniary difficulties. ie had eaten himself out of every tavern from the other side of TempleBar to the west end of the town. I have still in my
possession several bills of his for money to a considerable amount which he never repaid me. —He had
borrowed from me two hundred pounds; and a long
time having elapsed without his taking any notice of
the debt, I became rather uneasy (for two hundred
pounds was then no trifling sum to me). At last,
meeting him in Fleet Street, I asked him when he
should be able to settle with me.  " Are you going
home? " said he. "Yes," I replied; and we walked
to my chambers in the Temple. There, instead of
making any arrangements for repaying me, he ex- The pension was granted to him in 1803: he died in 1805.ED.




108           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
erted all his eloquence, but in vain, to induce me to
lend him more money; and I thanked heaven when
I got rid of him.-He assigned over to me the whole
of his works, including his Tacitus; and I soon found
that he had already disposed of them to a bookseller!
For this transaction Mlurphy came, in extreme agitation, to offer me a sort of apology, almost throwing
himself on his knees.  When he made his appearance, Porson and Maltby* happened to be in the
room; t but, Porson having said aside to Maltby,
" We had better withdraw," they left me to my disagreeable conference with Murphy.
One thing ought to be remembered to Murphy's
honour: an actress,: with whom he had lived, bequeathed to him all her property, but he gave up
every farthing of it to her relations.
Murphy used to say that there were Four Estates
in England, the King, the Lords, the Commons, and
-the Theatres.  He certainly would not say so, if
he were alive now, when the national theatre is
almost extinct.
* See notice prefixed to the Porsoniana in this volume. —ED.
--  Mr. Rogers was then lodging in Prince's Street, Hanover Square;
from which he removed to St. James's Place.-ED.. Miss Elliot.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           109
Henderson was a truly great actor; his HIamlet
and his Falstaff were truly good.  He was a very
fine reader too; in his comic readings superior, of
course, to Mrs. Siddons; his John GCilpin was marvellous.
He would frequently produce very unexpected
effects" in his readings: for instance, in the passage of Collins's Ode to Fecr~," Or throws him on the ridgy steep
Of some loose-hanging rock to sleep; "he would suddenly pause after the words " loosehanging rock," and then, starting back as if in
amazement, and lifting his arms above his head, he
would slowly add-" to sleep!  
During his boyhood, Pitt was very weakly; and
his physician, Addington (Lord Sidmouth's father)
ordered him to take port wine in large quantities:
the consequence was, that, when he grew up, he
could not do without it.  Lord Grenville has seen
* I must be allowed to observe, that I do not agree with Mr.
Rogers in admiring the effect in question. It was certainly not intended by the Poet.-ED.




110          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
him swallow a bottle of port in tumblerfuls, before
going to the I-ouse. This, together with his habit
of eating late suppers (indigestible cold veal-pies,
&c.), helped undoubtedly to shorten his life. HIuskisson, speaking to me of Pitt, said that his hands
shook so much, that, when he helped himself to salt,
he was obliged to support the right hand with the
left.
Stothard the painter happened to be one evening
at an inn on the Kent Road, when Pitt and Dundas
put up there on their way from Walmer. Next
morning, as they were stepping into their carriage,
the waiter said to Stothard, "Sir, do you observe
these two gentlemen? " —  Yes," he replied; " and
I know them to be Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas.""' Well, sir, how much wine do you suppose they
drank last night? " —Stothard could not guess." Seven bottles, sir."
Lord Grenville once said to Pitt, " I am really
astonished at your fluency in public speaking: how
was it acquired? " He replied, " I believe it may be
attributed to this circumstance: when I was a lad,
my father used every evening to make me translate
freely, before him and the rest of the family, those




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      Ill
portions of Livy, Virgil, &c., which I had read in
the morning with my tutor, Mr. Wilson."-Lord
Grenville engaged a reporter to take down Pitt's
speeches; but the reporter completely failed.
Pitt had been accustomed when a boy to go abird-nesting at Holwood, and hence (according to
Lord Grenville) his wish to possess that place; which
he eventually did.
I was assured by Lord Grenville that Pitt came
into office with a fixed determination to improve the
finances of the kingdom; instead of which he
greatly injured them.
I don't remember having heard of any bon-mots
being uttered by Pitt in society; and those persons
who were very intimate with him could tell me
little in favour of his conversational powers: one
great lady who knew him well, said that he was generally quite silent in company; and a second could
give me no other information about him, but that
(being a tall man) " he sat very high at table! "
There was a run on the Bank, and Pitt was uncertain what measures to take in consequence of it.
He passed the whole night (as Mrs.       told me)
in walking up and down his drawing-room. Next




112              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
morning he sent for certain bankers, and informed
them  that he had  resolved  on issuing five-pound
notes. —I recollect a farmer coming to my father's
bank, and receiving his money in five-pound notes.
"What can I do with these? " he exclaimed; "how
can I pay my men with them  "
Wilberforce requested Pitt to read Butler's Ancalogy.* Pitt did so; and was by no means satisfied
with the reasoning in it.  " My dear Wilberforce,'
he said, "  ou may prove any thing by analogy."
Combe, author of The Di)abotiad, of Lord Liyttelton's Letters, and, more recently, of Doctor Syntax's
Three Tours,    was a most extraordinary person.
During a very long life, he had seen much  of the
* "One evening, at a party, when Butler's Analogy was mentioned, Parr said in his usual pompous manner,' I shall not declare,
before the present company, my opinion of that book.' Bowles,
who was just then leaving the room, muttered,'Nobody cares what
you think of it.' Parr, overhearing him, roared out,'What's that
you say, Bowles?' and added, as the door shut on the offender,'It's
lucky that Bowles is gone! for I should have put him to death."'
MR. IMALTBY (see notice prefixed to the Porsoniana in this volume).
-ED.
t And of an astonishing number of other works-all published
anonymously.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            113
world,-its ups and downs.  He was certainly wellconnected.  Fitzpatrick recollected him  at Donay
College.  Ile moved once in the highest society, and
was very intimate with the Duke of Bedford. Twenty
thousand pounds were unexpectedly bequeathed to
him by an old gentleman, who said "he ought to
have been Combe's father" (that is, he had been on
the point of marrying Combe's mother), and who
therefore left him that large sum. Combe contrived
to get rid of the money in an incredibly short time.
Combe was staying at the house of Uvedale
Price; t and the Honourable Mr. St. John (author
of MWary Qteen of Scots 1 was there also.  The latter, one morning, missed some bank-notes. Price,
strongly suspecting who had taken them, mentioned
the circumstance to Combe, and added,' Perhaps it
would be as well if you cut short your visit here."* According to The Gentlemann's Magazine for August, 1823, p. 185
(where his name is wrongly spelled Coombe), "he was educated at
Eton and Oxford:" which is not inconsistent with his having been at
Douay also. But there seems to he great uncertainty about the particulars of his life.-ED.
t Afterwards a baronet.-ED.
I A very dull tragedy, in which Mrs. Siddons continued to act the
heroine occasionally up to the time of her retirement from the stage.
-ED.




114               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
" Oh, certainly," replied Combe with the  greatest
coolness; " and allow me just to ask, whether henceforth  we  are to be friends  or accjuaintances  "-' Acquaintances, if you please," said Price. —Long
after this had happened, I was passing through Leicester Square with Price, when we met Combe: we
both  spoke to him; but from  that hour he always
avoided me.
Combe assured me that it was with him, not with
Sterne, that " Eliza" t was in love; that he used to
meet her often  beside a windmill near Brighton:
that he was once surprised in her bed-chamber, and
fled through  the window, leaving one of his shoes
* From the tone of some letters written by Combe in his old
age, one would certainly not suppose that he had on his conscience
any thing of the kind above alluded to. " The only solid happiness
in this life," he says, "is the performance of duty; the rest, when
compared with it, is not worth a regret or a remembrance.
A thousand hours of pleasurable gratification will weigh but as dust
in the balance against one hour of solid virtue.. Few men
have enjoyed more of the pleasures and brilliance of life than myself;
and you, I well know, will believe me, when I assure you that, in
looking back upon it, the brightest intervals of it are those wherein
I resisted inclination, checked impetuosity, overcame temptation,
frowned folly out of countenance, or shed.a tear over the unfortunate."
Letters to Macrianne, p. 7.-ED.
f A list of Combe's writings, drawn up by himself, and printed
in The Gentleman's Maigazine for May 1852, p. 467, includes "Letters
supposed to have passed between Sterne and Eliza, 2 vols."-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         115
behind him; that, some days after, he encountered
her as she was walking with a party on what is now
the Steyne (at Brighton), and that, as she passed him,
she displayed from her mnff the toe of his shoe!
Conibe died in the King's Bench,* where it was
said that he had taken refuge in order to cheat his
creditors,-erroneously, for he did not leave enough
to pay the expenses of his funeral.
Gibbon took very little exercise.  He had been
staying some time with Lord Sheffield in the country; and when he was about to go away, the servants could not find his hat. " Bless me," said Gibbon,' I certainly left it in the hall on my arrival
here." He had not stirred out of doors during the
whole of the visit.
These lines by Bishop (Head-master of Merchant
Tailor's School) are very good in their way:* He died, June 19th, 1823, at his apartments in Lambeth Road,
in his 82d year. See The Gent7eman's Magazine for August 1823,
p. 185.-ED.




116              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
"To lllrs. Bishop, wtith a Present of a Knife.'A knife,' dear girl,'cuts love,' they say!
Mere modish love, perhaps it may;
For any tool of any kind,
Can separate-what was never joined.
The knife that cuts our love in two
Will have much tougher work to do;
Must cut your softness, truth, and spirit,
Down to the vulgar size of merit;
To level yours with modern taste,
Must cut a world of sense to waste;
And from your single beauty's store
Clip what would dizen out a score.
That self-same blade from me must sever
Sensation, judgment, sight, for ever;
All memory of endearments past,
All hope of comforts long to last;
All that makes fourteen years with you
A summer,-and a short one too;
All that affection feels and fears,
When hours without you seem like years.
Till that be done (and I'd as soon
Believe this knife will chip the moon),
Accept my present, undeterred,
And leave their proverbs to the herd.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 t7
If in a kiss-delicious treat!Your lips acknowledge the receipt,
Love, fond of such substantial fare,
And proud to play the glutton there,
All thoughts of cutting will disdain,
Save only-' cut and come again.'"
I never saw Paley; but my brother knew him
well, and liked him much. Paley used to say, in his
broad dialect, "I am  an  advocate for corrooption"
(that is, parliamentary influence).*
* Among several anecdotes of Paley, communicated to me long
ago by a gentleman who resided in the neighbourhood, were these.When Paley rose in the church, he set up a carriage, and, by his wife's
directions, his arms were painted on the panels. They were copied
from the engraving on a silver cup, which Mrs. P. supposed to be the
bearings of his family. Paley thought it a pity to undeceive his wife;
but the truth was, he had purchased the cup at a sale.
He permitted-nay, wished-his daughters to go to evening parties;
but insisted that one of them should always remain at home, to give
her assistance, if needed, by rubbing him, &c., in case of an attack
of the rheumatic pains to which he was subject. " This," he said,
" taught them natural affection."
His fourth son chose to be a farmer, and was sent by his
father to Redburn, where, in order to train him to his business, he
was frequently employed in works of manual labour.  A friend,
having seen the young man so occupied, expressed his surprise at




118            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Witticisms are often attributed to the wrong
people. It was Lord Chesterfield, not Sheridan, who
said, on occasion of a certain marriage, that " Nobody's son had married Everybody's daughter."
Lord Chesterfield remarked of two persons dancing a minuet, that "they looked as if they were
hired to do it, and were doubtful of being paid."
I once observed to a Scotch lady, "how desirable it was in any danger to hcve presence of mind."
"I had rather," she rejoined, " hcave absence of
body."
The mneehanct Lord Lyttelton used to play all sorts
of tricks in his boyhood. For instance, when he
knew that the larder at Hagley happened to be ill
supplied, he would invite, in his father's name, a
large party to dinner; and, as the carriages drove
up the avenue, the old lord (concealing his vexation
as much as possible) would stand bowing in the hall,
to welcome his unwelcome guests.
the circumstance to Paley, who replied, " Practice, practice is every
thino."
Of the card-playing Curate of G. and his wife, he used to say that
"they made much more by whist than by the curacy."-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             119
There is at Hagley a written account of the
zeehant Lord Lyttelton's death, which was read to
me while on a visit there. The statement, as far as
I can recollect, runs thus. One night, when he was
in bed, a white bird, with a voice like a woman's,or else, a female figure with a bird on her hand,appeared to him, and told him that he must die at a
particular hour on a particular night.  He related
the circumstance to some of his friends, who encouraged him in treating it as a delusion. The fatal
night arrived.  He was then at a house (Pitt Place)
near Epsom; and had appointed to meet a party on
the downs next morning.  His friends, without his
knowledge, had put back the clock.  " I shall cheat
the ghost yet," he said.  On getting into bed, he
sent his servant down stairs for a spoon, having to
take some medicine.  When the servant returned,
Lord Lyttelton was a corpse.*
* In the "Corrections and Additions," p. 36, to Nash's History
of Worcestershire, is an account of Lord Lyttelton's vision and
death, more detailed than the above, but not materially different.ED.
Of Lord Lyttelton's ghost appearing to Miles Peter Andrews
(an anecdote quite as notorious as that above) the following account
was given by Andrews himself to his most intimate friend, Mr.




120                RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Frequently, when doubtful how  to act in matters
of importance, I have received more useful advice
from women than from men. Women have the understanding of the heart; which is better than that
of the head.
As I was walking home one day from my father's
bank, I observed a great crowd of people streaming
into a chapel in the  City Road.  I followed them;
and saw  laid out, upon a table, the  dead body of a
clergyman in full canonicals. It was the corpse of
John Wesley; and the crowd moved slowly and
Morton the dramatist, by whom it was told to me.  "I was at Richmond: and I had not been long in bed, when I saw Lord Lyttelton
standing at the foot of it. I felt no surprise, because he was in the
habit of coming to me at all hours without previous announcement.
I spoke to him; but he did not answer. Supposing that he intended,
as usual, to play me some trick, I stooped out of bed, and taking up
one of my slippers, I threw it at him. He vanished. Next morning,
I inquired of the people of the house when Lord Lyttelton had
arrived, and where he was?  They declared ihat he had not arrived.
He died at the very moment I saw him."  A version of this ghoststory, too, is given by Nash (ubi supra), who states that Andrews
addressed the ghost, and that " the ghost, shaking his head, said,' It is all over with me."' But Mr. Morton assured me that he related the story exactly as he had had it from Andrews, whose conviction that he had seen a real spectre was proof against all arguments.
-ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGEBS.                 121
silently round  and round  the  table, to take  a last
look at that most venerable man.*
Dr. Priestley  went to  Paris in  company  with
Lord Shelburne; t and he assured me that all the
eminent Frenchmen whom he met there were entirely  destitute of any religions belief,-sheer atheists. At a large dinner-party he asked his next
neighbour, " Who is that gentleman? "  The answer
was, " It is;; and he believes no more than you
and  I  do."-Marmontel used to read some of his
unpublished works to parties of his friends, on certain days, at his own house. Priestley, who attended
* "At the desire of many of his friends, his body was carried
into the chapel the day preceding the interment, and there lay in a
kind of state becoming his person, dressed in his clerical habit, with
gown, cassock, and band; the old clerical cap on his head, a Bible
in one hand, and a white handkerchief in the other. The face was
placid, and the expression which death had fixed upon his venerable
features was that of a serene and heavenly smile. The crowds who
flocked to see him were so great, that it was thought prudent, for fear
of accidents, to accelerate the funeral, and perform it between five and
six in the morning," &c. Southey's Life of Wesley, ii. 562, ed. 1820.
Wesley died 2d March 1791.-ED.
t Afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne-to whom, nominally, Priestley acted as librarian, but really as his literary companion. It was in
1774 that they made a tour to the continent.-ED.
6




122             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
a few of those readings, declared that Marmontel
occasionally gesticulated with such violence, that it
was necessary to keep out of the reach of his arms,
for fear of being knocked down.
I was intimately acquainted with Dr. Priestley;
and a more amiable man never lived; he was all
gentleness, kindness, and humility. He was once
dining with me, when some one asked him (rather
rudely) "how  many  books he had published  "
He replied, " Many more, sir, than I should like to
read."  Before going to America he paid me a
visit, passing a night at my house.  He left England chiefly in compliance with the wishes of his
wife.
When Home Tooke was at school, the boys
asked him " what his father was? " Tooke answered,
"A Turkey merchant."  (He was a poulterer.)
He once said to his brother,@  a pompous man,
* In repeating this anecdote, Mr. Rogers sometimes substituted
"cousin" for "brother."-Tooke had two brothers.  1. Benjamin
Tooke, who settled at Brentford as a market-gardener, in which line
he became eminent, and acquired considerable wealth. 2. Thomas
Tooke, who was originally a fishmonger, and afterwards a poulterer,
-a man, it is said, of strong intellect, but certainly careless and




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        123
" You and I have reversed the natural course of
things; you have risen by your gravity; I have
sunk by my levity."
To Judge Ashhurst's remark, that the law was
open to all, both to the rich and to the poor, Tooke
replied, " So is the London Tavern."
He said that Hume wrote his History as witches
say their prayers-backwards.
Tooke told me that in his early days a friend
gave him a letter of introduction to D'Aleiibert at
Paris.  Dressed d-lc-mocle, he presented the letter,
and was very courteously received by D'Alembert,
who talked to him about operas, comedies, and suppers, &c.  Tooke had expected conversation on
very different topics, and was greatly disappointed.
When he took leave, he was followed by a gentleman in a plain suit, who had been in the room
during his interview with D'Alembert, and who had
perceived his chagrin.  " D'Alembert," said the
gentleman,;" supposed from your gay apparel that
you were merely a petit mctttre."  The gentleman
was David Hume.  On his next visit to D'Alemextravagant; and who ended his career in one of the almshouses belonging to the Fishmongers' Company.-ED.




124              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
bert, Tooke's dress was altogether different; and so
was the conversation.*
Tooke went to Italy as tutor to a young man of
fortune,t who was subject to fits of insanity, and
who consequently would sometimes occasion much
alarm at inns during the middle of the night.-While
residing at Genoa, they formed an acquaintance with
an Italian family of distinction, by whom  they were
introduced to the best society of the place.  Tooke
attached himself to a lady of great beauty, becoming
her cavalier servente, and attending her everywhere.
After some weeks, at a large evening-party, he was
astonished to find that the lady would not speak to
him, and that the rest of the company avoided conversation with him.  " Now," said Tooke,' what do
you imagine was the cause of this? Why, they had
discovered that I was a Protestant clergyncan! But
* Tooke spent considerably more -than a year at Paris, while acting as travelling-tutor to young Elwes (son of the miser); and he
afterwards paid two short visits to that capital in company with young
Taylor (see next note). It was, I apprehend, on the first of these
occasions that his introduction to D'Alembert took place. He was in
full orders before he ever went to the Continent; but he always laid
aside the clerical dress at Dover.-ED.
f The son of a Mr. Taylor, who resided within a few miles of
Brentford.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           125
I was resolved not to be brow-beaten; and I made
myself so agreeable, that, before the party broke
up, we were all again on the very best terms; some
of them even waited on me home, with music, in a
sort of triumph! " *
Soon after Tooke had left Genoa, he heard that
another traveller, who was following the same route,
had been assassinated. This unfortunate traveller
was mistaken for Tooke, on whom, in consequence
of his intrigue with the lady at Genoa, the blow had
been intended to fall.
I have been present when one of Tooke's daughters was reading Greek t to him with great facility.
I-e had made her learn that language without using
a grammar,-only a dictionary.
I paid five guineas (in conjunction with Boddington) for a loge at Tooke's trial.-It was the custom  in those days (and perhaps is so still) to place
bunches of strong smelling plants of different sorts
at the bar where the criminal was to sit (I supOne of those letters, in which Wilkes publicly addressed Home
Tooke, has the following passage; " Will you call an Italian gentleman now in town, your confidant during your whole residence at Genoa,
to testify the morality of your conduct in Italy?"
f Latin, I suspect.-ED.




126          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
pose, to purify the air from the contagion of his
presence!). This was done at Tooke's trial; but,
as soon as he was brought in, he indignantly swept
them away with his handkerchief. The trial lasted
six days. Erskine (than whom nobody had ever
more power over a jury,-he would frequently address them as " his little twelvers ") defended Tooke
most admirably: nay, he showed himself not only
a great orator, but a great actor; for, on the fifth
day, when the Attorney-General, Eldon, was addressing the jury, and was using a line of argument
which Erskine had not expected and could not reply
to (the pleading for the prisoner being closed), I well
remember how Erskine the whole time kept turning
towards the jury, and by a series of significant looks,
shrugs, and shakings of his head, did all he could to
destroy the effect of what the Attorney-General was
saying.-After a very long speech, Eldon, with the
perspiration streaming down his face, came into the
room where the Lord Mayor was sitting, and exclaimed, " Mr. Tooke says that he would like to send
Mr. Pitt to Botany Bay; but it would be more
merciful to make him Attorney-General."-When
Eldon was told that the mob had taken away the




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     127
horses from Erskine's carriage, and drawn him home
in triumph to Sergeants' Inn, he asked " If they had
ever returned them? "
At the conclusion of the trial, a daughter of one
of the jurymen was anxious to be introduced to
Tooke; who, shaking her by the hand, said very
prettily, "I must call you sister, for you are the
daughter of one of those to whom I owe my life."If Tooke had been convicted, there is no doubt that
he would have been hanged. We lived then under
a reign of terror.
One night after dining with him at Cline's (the
surgeon), I accompanied Tooke to Brandenburgh
House (the Margravine of Anspach's) to see a private play. During the performance, a person behind us said, " There's that rascal, Home Tooke."
The words were uttered quite distinctly; and Tooke
was so offended, that he immediately withdrew. I
went home with him to his house on the Common,
and slept there, after sitting up very late to listen
to his delightful talk.
I often dined with Tooke at Wimbledon; and
always found him most pleasant and most witty.
There his friends would drop in upon him without




128          RECOLLECTIONS OF THIE
any invitation: Colonel Bosville would come frequently, bringing with him a dinner from London,
-fish, &c. —Tooke latterly used to expect two or
three of his most intimate friends to dine with him
every Sunday; and I once offended him a good
deal by not joining his Sunday dinner-parties for
several weeks.
Burdett was, of course, a great deal with Tooke.
In little things, Burdett was a very inconsiderate
person. One forenoon, when Tooke was extremely
unwell, and a friend had sent him some fine hothouse grapes, Burdett, happening to call in, ate up
every one of them.
Tooke was such a passionate admirer of Milton's
prose works, that, as he assured me, he had tran
scribed them all in his youth.
For.my own part, I like Harris's writings much.
But Tooke thought meanly of them: he would say,
"Lord Mlalmesbury is as great a fool ass Idsfather."
I-e used to observe, that " though the books
which you have lately read may make no strong
impression on you, they nevertheless improve your
mind; just as food, though we forget what it was
after we have eaten it, gives strength to the body."




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                    129
0, the fallibility of medical people! Both Pearson and Cline, on one occasion, informed Tooke that
he could not possibly survive beyond a single day:
and   he lived years! -*-Let me mention here what
was told to me by a lady at Clifton.   "In  my girlhood," she said, " I had a very severe illness, during
which I heard Dr. Turton declare to my mother, in
the next room, that Icould not live.  I immediately
called out,'But I will live, Dr. Turton!' and  here
I am, now  sixty years old."
* In a note on Boswell's Life of Johnson (p. 562, ed. 1848),
relative to Lord Mayor Beckford's famous speech (or rather, rejoinder) to the king in 1770, Mr. Croker observes; "Mr. Bosville's
manuscript note on this passage says,' that the monument records,
not the words of Beckford, but what was prepared for him by John
Home Tooke, as agreed on at a dinner at Mr. George Bellas's in
Doctors' Commons.' This, I think, is also stated in a manuscript
note in the Museum  copy; hut Mr. Gifford says,'he never uttered
one syllable of the speech.' (Ben Jonson, i. 481.)  Perhaps he said
something which was afterwards put into its present shape by Home
Tooke."-In  Stephens's AMemoirs of  Horne Tooke (vol. i. 155-7)
we have the following account.  "This answer [of the king] had
been, of course, anticipated, and Mr. Home, who was determined
to give celebrity to the mayoralty of his friend, Mr. Beckford, at
the same time that he supported the common cause, had suggested
the idea of a reply to the sovereign; a measure hitherto unexampled
in our history."  Stephens then proceeds to say that the Lord Mayor
" expressed himself nearly as follows," &c.; and presently adds,
6-'




130                RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Hoole, the son of the translator of Ariosto, wrote
a poem  entitled The Curcate,* which is by no means
bad. I knew him when he was a private tutor.
What strange meetings sometimes occur!  Richard Sharp, when a young man, was making a tour
in Scotland with a friend.  They arrived one night
at Glencoe, and could get no lodgings  at the inn;
"This, as Mr. Horne lately acknowledged to me, was his composition."-I now quote the words of Mr. Maltby (see notice prefixed
to the Porsoniana in this volume).  "I was dining at Guildhall in
1790, and sitting next to Dr. C. Burney, when he assured me that
Beckford did not utter one syllable of the speech-that it was
wholly the invention of Home Tooke. Being very intimate with
Tooke, I lost no time in questioning him  on the subject.'What
Burney states,' he said,'is true.' I saw Beckford just after he came
from St. James's. I asked him what he had said to the king; and
he replied, that he had been so confused, he scarcely knew what he
had said.'But,' cried I,'your speech must be sent to the papers;
I'll write it for you.'  I did so immediately, and it was printed
forthwith."'
These various statements enable us to arrive at the exact truth;
viz. that Tooke suggested to Beckford (if he did not write them down)
the heads of a rejoinder to the king's reply-that Beckford, losing
his presence of mind, made little or no use of them-and that the
famous speech (or rejoinder) which is engraved on the pedestal of
Beckford's statue in Guildhall, was the elaborate composition of
Horne Tooke.-ED.
* Edward, or the Curate; by the Rev. Samuel Hoole, 1787, 4to. His
Poems were collected in two vols., 1790.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      131
but they were told by the landlord that there lived
in the neighbourhood a "laird" who was always
ready to show kindness to strangers, and who would
doubtless receive them into his house. Thither they
went, and were treated with the greatest hospitality.
In the course of conversation, the " laird " mentioned
Newfoundland as a place familiar to him. " Have
you been there? " asked Sharp. "Yes," he replied,
" I spent some time there, when I was in the army; "
and he went on to say that, while there, he enjoyed
the society of the dearest friend he had ever had, a
gentleman named Sharp. "Sir, I am the son of
that very gentleman."  The " laird" threw his arms
round Sharp's neck, and embraced him with a flood
of tears.
Sharp's little volume of Letters and Essays is
hardly equal to his reputation. He had given great
attention to metaphysics, and intended to publish a
work on that subject, the result of much thought
and reading. One day, as we were walking together
near Ulswater, I put some metaphysical question to
him, when he stopped me short at once by saying,
"There are only two men " in England with whom
* Meaning, I believe, Mackintosh and Bobus Smith.-ED




132          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I ever talk on metaphysics."  This was not very
flattering to me; and it so offended my sister, that
she said I ought immediately to have ordered a
postchaise, and left him there.
I have always understood that the oration of
Pericles in Smith's Thacydides was translated by
Lord Chatham.
Vernon was the person who invented the story
about the lady being pulverised in India by a coup
de soleil:-when he was dining there with a Hindoo,
one of his host's wives was suddenly reduced to
ashes; ulpon which, the Hindoo rcmg the bell, and
said to the attendant who answered it, " Bring fresh
glasses, and sweep up your mistress."
Another of his stories was this. HIe happened
to be shooting hyenas near Carthage, when he stumbled, and fell down an abyss of many fathoms' depth.
He was surprised, however, to find himself unhurt;
for he lighted as if on a feather-bed. Presently he
perceived that he was gently moved upwards; and,
having by degrees reached the mouth of the abyss,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            133
he again stood safe on terra firmna. IlHe had fallen
upon an immense mass of bats, which, disturbed
from their slumbers, had risen out of the abyss and
brought him up with them.
I knew  Joseph Warton well.  When Matthias
attacked him in Th/ e -Pursuits of literature for reprinting some loose things* in his edition of Pope,
Joseph wrote a letter to me, in which he called
Matthias "~ his pious critic,"-rather an odd expression to come from a clergyman. —ie certainly ought
not to have given that letter of Lord Cobham.t
I never saw Thomas Warton.  I once called at
the house of Robinson the bookseller for Dr. Kippis,
who used to introduce me to many literary parties,
and who that evening was to take me to the Society
of Antiquaries.   tie said,'"Tom  Warton is up
stairs."  IHow I now wish that I had gone up and
* The Imitation of the Second Satire of the First Book of Horace, and
the chapter of "The Double Mistress," in the Memoirs of Scriblerus:
Matthias also objected to " a few trumpery, vulgar copies of verses
which disgrace the pages."-ED.
f See J. Warton's Lfe of Pope, p. ii. The letter had been previously printed-in the dullest of all biographies, Ruffhead's Life of
Pope, p. 276.-ED.




134          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
seen him! His little poem, The Suicide, is a favourite of mine.-Nor did I ever see Gibbon, or Cowper, or Horace Walpole: and it is truly provoking
to reflect that I might have seen them!
There is no doubt that Matthias wrote The Pursuits of Literature; and a dull poem it is, though
the notes are rather piquant.
Gilbert Wakefield used to say, he was certain
that Rennell and Glynn assisted Matthias in it; and
Wakefield was well acquainted with all the three.
Steevens once said to Matthias, "Well, sir, since
you deny the authorship of The Pursuits f literature, I need have no hesitation in declaring to you
that the person who wrote it is a liar and a blackguard."
In one of the notes was a statement that Beloe
had received help from Porson in translating Alciphron. Person accordingly went to Beloe, and
said, " As you know that I did not help you, pray,
write to Matthias and desire him to alter that note."
In a subsequent edition the note was altered.
One day I asked Matthias if he wrote The Pursuits of Literature; and he answered, "My dear




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             135
friend, can you suppose that I am the author of that
poem, when there is no mention made in it of yourself?"  Some time after, I happened to call on Lord
Besborough, who told me, that, as he was illustrating The Pursuits of Literature with portraits, he
wanted to get one of me.  "Why," exclaimed I,'" there is no mention in it of me! "  Ite then turned
to the note where I am spoken of as the banker who
" dreams on Parnassus." *
What popularity Cowper's Task enjoyed! Johnson, the publisher, told me that, in consequence of
the great number of copies which had been sold, he
made a handsome present to the author.
In order to attain general popularity, a poem
must have (what it is creditable to our countrymen
that they look for) a strong religious tendency, and
* Let me present a short passage from a Letter to Mr. Pitt
on the occasion of the Triple Assessment.'Things, sir, are now
changed. Time was, when bankers were as stupid as their guineas
could make them; they were neither orators, nor painters, nor poets.
But gow Mr. Dent has a speech and a bitch at your service; Sir
Robert has his pencil and canvas; and Mr. Rogers dreams on Parnassus; aid, if I am rightly informed, there is a great demand
among his brethren for the Pleasures of Memory."' P. 360, ed. 1808.
-ED.




136            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
must treat of subjects which relquire no previous
knowledge in the readers.  Cowper's Poems are
of that description.
Here are two fine lines in Cowper's Task; *
"Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much;
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more."
Sometimes in his rhymed poetry the verses run with
all the ease of prose: for instance,"The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." t
Cumberland was a most agreeable companion,
and a very entertaining converser.  His theatrical
anecdotes were related with infinite spirit and humour; his description of MLrs. Siddons coming off the
stage in the full flush of triumph, and walking up to
the mirror in the green-room to survey herself, was
admirable.  He said that the three finest pieces of
acting which he had ever witnessed, were Garrick's
Lear, Henderson's Falstaff, and Cooke's Iago.
* Book vi.-ED.
~1 An.Epistle to an afflicted Protestant Lady in France. —ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        137
When Cumberland was composing any work, he
never shut himself up in his study: he always wrote
in the room where his family sat, and did not feel
the least disturbed by the noise of his children at
play beside hiim.*
Lord Holland and Lord Lansdowne having expressed a wish to be introduced to Cumberland, I
invited all the three to dine with me. It happened,
however, that the two lords paid little or no attention to Cumberland (though he said several very
good things),-scarcely speaking to him  the whole
time: something had occurred in the House which
occupied all their thoughts; and they retired to a
window, and discussed it.
ltitford, the historian of Greece, possessed, besides his learning, a wonderful variety of accomplishments. I always felt the highest respect for him.
When, not long before his death, I used to meet him
in the street, bent almost double, and carrying a long
staff in his hand, he reminded me of a venerable
pilgrim just come fiom Jerusalem. — lis account of
* Compare Cumberland's Menwirs, i. 264, ii. 204.-ED.




138          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
the Homeric age,-of the Sicilian cities,-and several other parts of his History, are very pleasing.
Lane made a large fortune by the immense quantity of trashy novels which he sent forth from his
Minerva-press. I perfectly well remember the splendid carriage in which he used to ride, and his footmen with their cockades and gold-headed canes.
Now-a-days, as soon as a novel has had its run,
and is beginning to be forgotten, out comes an edition of it as a " standard novel! "
One afternoon, at Court, I was standing beside
two intimate acquaintances of mine, an old nobleman
and a middle-aged lady of rank, when the former
remarked to the latter that he thought a certain
young lady near us was uncommonly beautiful. The
middle-aged lady replied, "I cannot see any particular beauty in her."-" Ah, madam," he rejoined,
"to us old men youth always appears beautiful!"
(a speech with which Wordsworth, when I repeated
it to him, was greatly struck).-The fact is, till we




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           139
are about to leave the world, we do not perceive
how much it contains to excite our interest and admiration: the sunsets appear to me far lovelier now
than thew were in other years; and the bee upon
the flower is now an object of curiosity to me, which
it was not in my early days.
With the exception of some good lines, such
as," Hell in his heart, and Tyburn in his face," *
Churchill's poetry is, to my thinking, but mediocre;
and for such poetry I have little toleration; though
perhaps, when I recollect my own writings, I ought
not to make the remark.
I am not sure that I do not prefer Wolcot (Peter Pindar) to Churchill.-Wolcot's Gipsy  is very
neat.
[" A wandering gipsy, sirs, am I,
From Norwood, where we oft complain,
With many a tear and many a sigh,
Of blustering winds and rushing rain.
* Not inserted in Wolcot's Poet. Works, 5 vols.-ED.
t The Author.-ED.




140             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
No costly rooms or gay attire
Within our humble shed appear;
No beds of down, or blazing fire,
At night our shivering limbs to cheer.
Alas, no friend comes near our cot!
The redbreasts only find the way,
Who give their all, a simple note,
At peep of morn and parting day.
But fortunes here I come to tell,Then yield me, gentle sir, your hand:Within these lines what thousands dwell,And, bless me, what a heap of land!
It surely, sir, must pleasing be
To hold such wealth in every line:
Try, pray, now try, if you can see
A little treasure lodg'd in mine."]
And there can hardly be a better line of its kind
than this," Kill half a cow, and turn the rest to grass." *
In  company with my sister, I paid a visit to
Gilbert Wakefield when he was in Dorchester Gaol.
* Complimentary Epistle to Janes Boswell, Esq.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL IROGERS.     141
His confinement was made as pleasant to him as
possible; for he had nearly an acre of ground to walk
about in. But, still, the sentence passed upon him
was infamous: what rulers we had in those days!
Wakefield gave Beloe some assistance in translating Aulus Gellius.
At a splendid party given by Lord HIampden to
the Prince of Wales, &c., I saw Lady Hamilton go
through all those " attitudes" which have been engraved; and her performance was very beautiful
indeed. Her husband, Sir William, was present.
Lord Nelson was a remarkably kind-hearted man.
I have seen him spin a teetotum with his one hand,
a whole evening, for the amusement of some children.
I heard him once during dinner utter many bitter
complaints (which Lady Hamilton vainly attempted
to check) of the way he had been treated at court
that forenoon: the Queen had not condescended to
take the slightest notice of him. In truth, Nelson
was hated at court; they were jealous of his fame.
There was something very charming in Lady
Hamilton's openness of manner. She showed me the




142              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
neckcloth which Nelson had on when he died: of
course I could not help looking at it with extreme
interest; and she threw her arms round my neck and
kissed me.-She was latterly in  great want; and
Lord Stowell never rested till he procured for her a
small pension from government.
Parson Este * was well acquainted with Mrs.
Robinson  (the once-celebrated Perdita), and said
that Fox had the greatest difficulty in persuading
the Prince of Wales to lend her some assistance,
when, towards the close of life, she was in very
straitened circumstances. Este saw her funeral,
which was attended by a single mourning coach.t
A person once asserted that in a particular coun* See pp. 58, 59.
+ Poor Perdita had some poetic talent: and it was acknowledged
by Coleridge, whose lines to her, " As late on Skiddaw's mount I lay
supine," &c., are not to be found in the recent collections of his
poems. See, at p. xlviii. of the Tributary Poems prefixed to Mrs.
Robinson's Poetical Works, 3 vols., "A  Stranger MIinstrel. By S. T.
Coleridge, Esq., written a.few weeks before her death," and dated "Nov.
1800." —ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      143
tay the bees were as large as sheep. He was asked
" How big, then, are the hives 2"-" Oh," he replied, "the usual size."
I knew Jane Duchess of Gordon intimately, and
many pleasant hours have I passed in her society.
She used to say, "I have been acquainted with
David Hume and William Pitt, and therefore I am
not afraid to converse with any body."
The Duchess told the following anecdote to Lord
Stowell, who told it to Lord Dunmore, who told it
to me. 6 The son of Lord Cornwallis [Lord Brome]
fell in love with my daughter Louisa; and she liked
him much. They were to be married; but the intended match was broken off by Lord C., whose
only objection to it sprung from his belief that there
was madness in my husband's family. Upon this I
contrived to have a tete-d-tete with Lord C., and
said to him, 6 I know your reason for disapproving
of your son's marriage with my daughter: now, I
will tell you one thing plainly,-there is not a drop
of the Gordon blood in Louisca's body.' With this
statement Lord C. was quite satisfied, and the mar



144          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
riage took place."  The Duchess prided herself
greatly on the success of this maneuure, though it
had forced her to slander her own character so
cruelly and so unjustly! In fact, manceuvring was
her delight.
One morning I was about to mount my horse to
ride into London to the banking-house, when, to
my astonishment, I read in the newspapers that a
summons had been issued to bring me before the
Privy-Council. I immediately proceeded to Downing Street, and asked to see MIr. Dundas. I was
admitted; and I told him that I had come to inquire
the cause of the summons which I had seen announced in the newspapers. He said, " Have you a
carriage here? " I replied, " A hackney-coach." Into it we got; and there was I sitting familiarly with
Dundas, whom I had never before set eyes on. We
drove to the Home-Office; and I learned that I had
been summoned to give evidence in the case of William Stone, accused of high treason.-Long before
this, I had met Stone in the Strand, when he told
me, among other things, that a person had arrived
here fromi France to gather the sentiments of the




TABLE-TAL: OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     145
people of England concerning a French invasion;
and that he (Stone) would call upon me and read to
me a paper on that subject. I said, " You will infect me with the plague;" and we parted. In the
course of a few days he did call with the paper.After the Government had laid hold of Stone, he
mentioned his intercourse with me; and hence my
summons. When his trial took place, I was examined by the Attorney-General, and cross-examined
by Erskine. For some time before the trial I could
scarcely get a wink of sleep: the thoughts of my
appearance at it made me miserable.
[Extract from The Trial of William Stone for
High Treason, at the bar of the Court of King's
Bench, on Thursday the Twenty-eighth and Friday
the Twenty-ninth of January, 1796.  Taken in
short-hand by Joseph Gurney, 1796.
Sanzmuel 7 Rogers, Esq. (sworn.)
Examined by Mr. Attorney-General.
Q. You know Mr. William Stone?
A. Yes.
Q. Do you know Mr. Hurford Stone?
A. Have known him many years.
7




146          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Q. Do you recollect having any conversationand if you do, be so good as state to my Lord and the
Jury, what conversation you had with Mr. William
Stone relative to an invasion of this country?
A. He met me, I think it was in the month of
March, 1794, in the street; he stopped me to mention the receipt of a letter from his brother at Paris
on the arrival of a gentleman who wished particularly to collect the sentiments of the people of this
country with respect to a French invasion.-Our
conversation went very little further, for it was in
the street.
Q. Do you recollect what you said to him, if
you said any thing?
A. I recollect that I rather declined the conversation.
Q. I ask you, not what you declined or did not decline, but what you said to him, if you said any thing.
A. I was in a hurry, and I believe all I said was
to decline the conversation.
Q. State in what language you did decline that
conversation.
A. I said that I had no wish to take any part
whatever in any political transactions at that time;




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     147
it was a time of general alarm, and I wished to shun
even the shadow of an imputation, as I knew that
when the minds of men were agitated, as I thought
they then were, the most innocent intentions were
liable to misconstruction.
Q. Did he inform you who the person was?
A. No, he did not; I only learned that it was a
gentleman arrived from Paris; I speak from recollection.
Q. Did he inform you what gentleman he was?
A. I do not recollect that he did.
Q. Did he ever call upon you after you had declined this conversation 
A. lie did call upon me a few days after; and
he read to me a paper, which I understood to be
written by somebody else, but I cannot say who;
and which went to show, as far as I can recollect,
that the English nation, however they might differ
among themselves, would unite to repel an invasion.
Q. After you had declined a conversation upon
this subject, from motives of discretion, Mr. Stone
called upon you and showed you this paper 
A. He told me in the street he should call
upon me.




148          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Q. Had you any further conversation with him
at any time upon this subject?
A. He mentioned at that time that he thought
he should do his duty, if, by stating what he believed to be true, he could save the country from an
invasion.
Q. Did he ever tell you where this gentleman
went to afterwards?
A. I never had any further conversation with
him upon the subject.
Q. He never came to consult you about what this
gentleman was doing any where but in England?
A. No; I believe I never met him again.
Samuel Rogers, Esq.
Cross-examined by Mr. Erskine.
Q. Mr. Stone, meeting you accidentally in the
street, communicated this to you?
A. In the open street.
Q. Not with any secrecy?
A. By no means.
Q. And you might have told it me, if I had
happened to have met you five minutes afterwards?
A. Very likely.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            149
Q. Have you had any acquaintance with Mr.
Stone?
A. I have met him frequently for many years.
Q. What is his character with respect to loyalty
to his king, and regard to his country?
A. I had always an opinion that in that respect
he was a very well-meaning man."          pp. 144-6.]
I cannot relish Shakespeare's Sonnets. The song
in As you like it, " Blow, blow, thou winter wind,"
is alone worth them all.
Do not allow yourself to be imposed upon by the
authority of great names: there is not a little both
in Shakespeare and in Milton that is very far from
good. The famous passage in I/amlet, though it has
passed into a sort of proverbial expression, is downright nonsense," a custom
More honour'd in the breach than the observance:" *
how can a custom be honoured in the breach of it?
* Act ii. sc. 4.-" Compare the following line of a play attributed
to Jonson, Fletcher, and Middleton:' He keeps his promise best that breaks with hell.'
The Widow, act iii. sc. 2."
Dyce's Remarks on Mr.i Collier's and Mr. Knight's editions of
Shakespeare, p. 210.-ED.




150             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
In Milton's description of the lazar-house there
is a dreadful confusion of metaphor:"Sight so deform what heart of rock could long
Dry-ey'd behold? "*
I once observed this to Coleridge, who told Wordsworth that he could not sleep all the next night for
thinking of it.
Some speeches in Paradise -Lost have as much
dramatic force as any thing in Shakespeare; for instance, —
"Know ye not, then, said Satan fill'd with scorn,
Know ye not me?  Ye knew me once no mate
For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar," &c." t
It is remarkable that no poet before Shakespeare
ever introduced a person walking in sleep. I believe
there is no allusion to such a circumstance in any of
the Greek  or Latin poets. —What a play that is!
S Par. Lost, b. xi. 494.-In a note on this passage, Dunster says
that the combination of heart of rock and dry-ey'd is from Tibullus, lib.
i. El. i. 63, &c.;
"Flebis; non tua sunt duro prmecordia ferro
Vincta, nec in tenero stat tibi corde silex."-ED.
f B. iv. 827.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.               151
was there ever such a ghost?-" the table's full!"
I never missed going to see it, when Kemble and
Mrs. Siddons played Macbeth and Lady Macbeth:
their noble acting, and Locke's fine music, made it
a delightful treat.
If you wish to have your works coldly reviewed,
get your intimate friend to write an article on them.
I know  this by experience. —Ward (Lord Dudley)
" cut up " my Columbus in The Quarterly: but he
afterwards repented of it, and apologised to me.*
I have seen Howard the philanthropist more
than once: he was a remarkably mild-looking man.
* The No. of the Quarterly (see vol. ix. 107) which contained the
critique in question had just appeared, when Mr. Rogers, who had not
yet seen it, called on Lord Grosvenor, and found Gifford sitting with
him. Between Mr. Rogers and Gifford there was little cordiality;
but on that occasion they chatted together in a very friendly manner.
After Mr. Rogers had left the room, Gifford said to Lord Grosvenor,
with a smile, " Do you think he has seen the last Quarterly? "
Mr. Rogers took his revenge for that critique, by frequently repeating the following epigram, which has been erroneously attributed




1T2               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
His book on prisons is excellently written. People
are not aware that Dr. Price wrote a portion of it.
Sir Henry Englefield had a fancy (which some
greater men have had) that there was about his person  a  natural odour of roses and  violets.   Lady
Grenville, hearing of this, and loving a joke, exclaimed, one  day  when  Sir Henry  was present,
to Byron, but which, as Mr. Rogers told me, he himself wrote, wcith some
little assistance from Richard Sharp:
" Ward has no heart, they say; but I deny it;He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."
One day, while Mr. Rogers was on bad terms with Ward, Lady
-     said to him, " Have you seen Ward lately? "  What Ward?"
"Why, our Ward, of course."  " Our Ward! you may keep him all
to yourself."
Columbus was first printed in a thin quarto, for private circulation,
1810.  When Ward reviewed it in 1813, as forming a portion of Mr.
Rogers's collected poems, it had been greatly enlarged.
Another article in The Quarterly gave considerable annoyance to
Mr. Rogers,-the critique by George Ellis, on Byron's Corsair and
Lara (vol. xi. 428), in which Mr. Rogers's Jacqueline (originally appended to Lara) is only mentioned as " the highly refined, but somewhat insipid, pastoral tale of Jacqueline."-When Mr. Rogers was at
Brighton, in 1851, Lady Byron told him that her husband, on reading
Ellis's critique, had said, " The man's a fool. Jacqueline is as superior
to Lara, as Rogers is to me."  Who will believe that Byron said this
sincerely?  Yet Jacqueline is undoubtedly a beautiful little poem.
-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        153
" Bless me, what a smell of violets! "-" Yes," said
he with great simplicity; " it comes from me."
We have in England the finest series of pictures and the finest of sculptures in the world, —
I mean, the Cartoons of Raphael and the Elgin
Marbles.
Our National Gallery is superior to any private
collection of pictures in Italy,-superior, for instance, to the Doria and Borghese collections, which
contain several very indifferent things.
Perhaps the choicest private collection in this
country is that at Panshanger (Earl Cowper's): it
is small but admirable; what Raphaels, what Andrea del Sartos, what Claudes!
In former days Cuyp's pictures were comparatively little valued: he was the first artist who
painted light, and therefore he was not understood.
Sir William IBeechy was at a picture-sale with Wilson, when one of Cuyp's pieces was knocked down
for a trifling sum. " Well," said Wilson, " the day
7*&




154          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
will come when both Cuyp's works and my own
will bring the prices which they ought to bring."
Look at this engraving by Marc Antonio after
Raphael,-Michael treading upon Satan, and note
its superiority to Guido's picture on the same subject. In the latter, the countenance of Michael expresses triumph alone; in the former, it expresses
triumph mingled with pity for a fallen brotherangel.
This Last Supper by Raphael [Marc Antonio's
engraving] is, I think, in all respects superior to
that by Lionardo. The apostle on the right hand
of Christ strikingly displays his indignation against
the betrayer of his Lord by grasping the table-knife.
Never in any picture did I see such a figure as
this,-I mean, a figure so completely floating on the
air [the Angel holding the wreath in Marc Antonio's
engraving, after Raphael, of the martyrdom of St.
Felicita].
Sir Thomas Lawrence used to say, that among
painters there were three pre-eminent for invention,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        155
-Giorgione, Rembrandt, and Rubens; and perhaps
he was right.
Sir Thomas Lawrence has painted several very
pleasing pictures of children; but generally his
men are effeminate, and his women meretricious.Of his early portraits Sir Joshua Reynolds said,
"This young man has a great deal of talent; but
there is an affectation in his style which he will
never entirely shake off."
We have now in England a greater number of
tolerably good painters than ever existed here together at any former period: but, alas, we have no
Hogarth, and no Reynolds!
I must not, however, forget that we have Turner,
— a man of first-rate genius in his line. There is in
some of his pictures a grandeur which neither
Claude nor Poussin could give to theirs.
Turner thinks that Rubens' landscapes are deficient in nature.  I differ from him. Indeed, there*
is a proof that he is mistaken; look at that foresti. e., on the wall of Mr. Rogers's dining-room.-ED.




156           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
scene by Rubens; the foreground of it is truth
itself.
The Art Union is a perfect curse: it buys and
engraves very inferior pictures, and consequently
encourages mediocrity of talent; it makes young
men, who have no genius, abandon the desk and
counter, and set up for painters.
The public gave little encouragement to Flaxman and Banks, but showered its patronage on two
much inferior sculptors, Bacon and Chantrey.
As to Flaxman, the greatest sculptor of his day,
-the neglect which he experienced is something inconceivable. Canova, who was well acquainted with
his exquisite illustrations of Dante, &c., could hardly
believe that a man of such genius was not an object
of admiration among his countrymen; and, in allusion to their insensibility to Flaxman's merits and to
their patronage of inferior artists, he said to some
of the English at Rome, " Yot see with your ears! "
Chantrey began his career by being a carver in
wood. The ornaments on that mahogany sideboard,
and on that stand [in Mr. Rogers's dining-room],




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           157
were carved by him.  [Subsequently, when a gentleman informed Mr. Rogers that the truth of this
last statement had been questioned, he entered into
the following particulars.-Chantrey said to me one
day, " Do you recollect that, about twenty-five years
ago, a journeyman came to your house, from  the
wood-carver employed by you and Mr. Hope, to talk
about these ornaments, and that you gave him a
drawing to execute them by? " I replied that I recollected it perfectly. " Well," continued Chantrey,
"I was that journeyman."] When he was at Rome
in the height of his celebrity, he injured himself not
a little by talking with contempt * of the finest statues of antiquity.-Jackson (the painter) told me
that he and Chantrey went into the studio of Dannecker the sculptor, who happened to be from home.
There was an unfinished bust in the room; and
Chantrey, taking up a chisel, proceeded to work
upon it.  One of the assistants immediately rushed
forwards, in great alarm, to stop him; but no sooner
- Mr. Rogers, I apprehend, was mistaken on this point. From
Jones's Life of Chantrey, p. 26, it appears that Chantrey did not admire
those statues so much as they are generally admired, and therefore
was unwilling to give his opinion on them; but that he never spoke of
them "with contempt." —ED.




158          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
had Chantrey given a blow on the chisel, than the
man exclaimed, with a knowing look, " Ia! ha! " —
as much as to say, " I see that you perfectly understand what you are about."-Chantrey practised
portrait-painting both at Sheffield and after he came
to London. It was in allusion to him that Lawrence
said, "A  broken-down painter will make a very
good sculptor."
Ottley's knowledge of painting was astonishing.
Showing him a picture which I had just received
from  Italy, I said, "Whose work do you suppose
it to be?"'  After looking at it attentively, he replied, "It is the work of Lorenzo di Credi" (by
whom I already knew that it was painted).-" How,"
I asked, "could you discover it to be from Lorenzo's
pencil  have you ever before now seen any of his
pieces?"  "]Never," he answered; "but I am familiar with the description of his style as given by
Vasari and others."
I regret that so little of Curran's brilliant talk
has been preserved. How much of it Tom Moore
could record, if he would only take the trouble!




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      159
I once dined with Curran in the public room of
the chief inn at Greenwich, when he talked a great
deal, and, as usual, with considerable exaggeration.
Speaking of something which he would not do on any
inducement, he exclaimed vehemently, " I had rather
be hanged upon twenty gibbets."-" Don't you
think, sir, that one would be enough for you n " said
a girl, a stranger, who was sitting at the table next
to us. I wish you could have seen Curran's face.
He was absolutely confounded,-struck dumb.
Very few persons know that the poem called
Ulm and Trafalgar * was written by Canning. He
composed it (as George Ellis told me) in about two
days, while he walked up and down the room. Indeed, very few persons know that such a poem
exists.
After Legge was appointed Bishop of Oxford, he
had the folly to ask two wits, Canning and Frere,
to be present at his first sermon. "Well," said he to
Canning, " how did you like it? " "Why, I thought
it rather-short." —" Oh, yes, I am  aware that it
* A short poem printed for Ridgeway, 1806, 4to.-ED.




160             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
was short;  but I was afraid of being  tedious."
" You were tedious."
A lady having put to Canning the silly question,
" Why have they made the space in the iron gate
at Spring Gardens * so narrow? " he replied, " Oh,
ma'am, because such very fat people used to go
through" (a reply  concerning which Tom  Moore
said, that "the person who does not relish it can
have no perception of real wit").
I once mentioned to Canning the  anecdote,t
that, while Gray was at Peter House, Cambridge,
some young men of the college having learned that
he had a fire-escape in his rooms, alarmed him in the
middle of the night by a cry of "fire,"-and that
presently Gray descended from  the window  by a
ladder of ropes, and tumbled into a tub of water,
X At the end of Spring Garden Passage, which opens into St.
James's Park.-ED.
t Whence this very suspicious version of the anecdote was derived
I cannot learn. In a MS. note of Cole it is given as follows: "' One of
their tricks was, knowing that Mr. Gray had [having?] a dread of
fire, had rope-ladders in his chamber; they alarmed him in the middle of the night with the cry of fire, in hope of seeing him make use of
them from his window, in the middle story of the new building."
Mitford's Gray, i. cviii. It was in consequence of these " tricks " that
Gray removed from Peter House to Pembroke Hall.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      161
which the rogues had placed there;-upon which,
Canning added, that "they had made a mistake
in calling out'fire,' when they meant to cry'water.' 
Canning said that a man who could talk of liking
dry champagne would not scruple to say any thing.
The Duke of York told me that Dr. Cyril Jackson most conscientiously did his duty as tutor to him
and his brother, the Prince of Wales.  " Jackson,"
said the Duke, " used to have a silver pencil-case in
his hand while we were at our lessons; and he has
frequently given us such knocks with it upon our
foreheads, that the blood followed them."
I have often heard the Duke relate how he and
his brother George, when young men, were robbed
by footpads on Hay Hill.-:  They had dined that
day at Devonshire House, had then gone home to lay
aside their court-dresses, and afterwards proceeded
to a house of a certain description in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square. They were returning from
it in a hackney-coach, late at night, when some foot* Hay Hill, Berkeley Street, leading to Dover Street.-ED.




162          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
pads stopped them  on Hay Hill, and carried off
their purses, watches, &c.
In his earlier days the Duke of York was most
exact in paying all his debts of honour. One night
at Brookes's, while he was playing cards, he said to
Lord Thanet, who was about to go home to bed,
"Lord Thanet, is our betting still to continue?"
"Yes, sir, certainly," was the reply: and next morning Lord Thanet found 15001. left for him at Brookes's
by the Duke. But gradually he became less particular in such matters; and at last he would quietly pocket the winnings of the night from  Lord
Robert Spencer, though he owed Lord Robert about
five thousand pounds.
I have several times stayed at Oatlands with the
Duke and Duchess of York-both of them most
amiable and agreeable persons. We were generally
a company of about fifteen; and our being invited
to remain there "' another day" sometimes depended
on the ability of our royal host and hostess to raise
sufficient money for our entertainment. We used
to have all sorts of ridiculous " fun " as we roamed
about the grounds. The Duchess kept (besides a
number of dogs, for which there was a regular burial



TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        163
place) a collection of monkeys, each of which ihad
its own pole with a house at top. One of the visitors (whose name I forget) would single out a particular monkey, and play to it on the fiddle with
such fury and perseverance, that the poor animal,
half distracted, would at last take refuge in the arms
of Lord Alvanley. —Monk Lewis was a great favourite at Oatlands. One day after dinner, as the
Duchess was leaving the room, she whispered something into Lewis's ear. He was much affected, his
eyes filling with tears. We asked what was the
matter.  " Oh," replied Lewis, " the Duchess spoke
so very kindly to me!"- "My dear fellow," said
Colonel Armstrong,* " pray don't cry; I daresay
she didn't mean it."
I was in the pit of the Opera with Crabbe the
poet when the Duchess of York beckoned to me, and
I went into her box. There was no one with her
except a lady, whom I did not know; and supposing
that she was only one of the Duchess's attendants,
I talked very unguardedly about the Duke of Kent.
Now, the lady was the Duchess of Gloucester, who
* Query about this name? Sometimes, while telling the story,
Mr. Rogers would say, " I think it was Colonel Armstrong." —ED.




164           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
took great offence at what I said, and has never forgiven me for it. The Duchess of York told me
afterwards that she sat in perfect misery, expecting
that, when I had done with the Duke of Kent, I
should fall upon the Duke of Gloucester.
In lMonk Lewis's writings there is a deal of
bad taste; but still he was a man of genius. I'll
tell you two stories which he was very fond of
repeating (and which Windham used to like). The
first is:
Tihe Skeleton in the Clhurch-porch.
Some travellers were supping at an inn in Germany, and sent for the landlord to give him a glass
of wine. In the course of conversation the landlord
remarked that a certain person whom they happened
to speak of, was as obstinate as the Skeleton in the
Church-porch.  "What is that?" they inquired.
The landlord said that he alluded to a skeleton
which it was impossible to keep under ground; that
he had twice or thrice assisted in laying it in the
charnel, but that always, the day after it had been




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       165
buried, it was found lying in the church-porch. The
travellers were greatly struck by this account; and
they expressed an eager desire to see the refractory
skeleton. At last, a young serving-woman coming
into the room, they asked her if she, for a reward,
would go to the church-porch and bring the skeleton
to them. She at first refused to do so; but eventually the travellers offered a sum of money which
she could not resist. Be it particularly observed
that the young woman was then big with child.
Well, off she set to the church; and having found
the skeleton in its usual place, she brought it to the
inn on her back, and laid it upon the table before
the travellers. They had no sooner looked at it
than they wished it gone; and they prevailed on the
young woman, for another sum of money, to carry it
again to the church-porch. When she arrived there,
she set it down; and turning away, she was proceeding quickly along the path which led from the
church, and which was seen stretching out before
her in the clear moonlight, when suddenly she felt
the skeleton leap upon her back. She tried to shake
it off; but in vain. She then fell on her knees, and
said her prayers. The skeleton relaxed its hold;




166           RECOLLECTIONS OF TIIE
and she again rushed down the path, when, as before, the skeleton leapt upon her back. "I will
never quit you," it said, " till you descend into the
charnel, and obtain forgiveness for the skeleton that
lies in the church-porch." She paused a moment;
then summoning up her courage, she replied that she
would do so. The skeleton dropped off. Down she
went into the charnel; and, after groping about for
some time, she perceived the pale figure of a lady,
sitting by a lamp and reading. She advanced towards the figure, and, kneeling, said, "I ask forgiveness for the skeleton that lies in the church-porch."
The lady read on without looking at her. Again
she repeated her supplication, but still the lady read
on, regardless of it. The young woman then ascended from the charnel, and was running down the
path when the skeleton once more arrested her progress. "I will never quit you," it said, "till you
obtain forgiveness for the skeleton that lies in the
church-porch: go again into the charnel, and ask
it."  Again the young woman descended, and, advancing to the lady, sunk upon her knees, and cried,
" I come a second time to ask forgiveness for the
skeleton that lies in the church-porch. Oh, grant




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       167
that forgiveness! the skeleton implores it! I implore
it! the bacbe that Ib ear in my womb implores it also!"
The lady turned her head towards the speaker, gave
a faint smile, and disappeared. On coming up from
the charnel, the young woman found the skeleton
standing erect in the porch. " I am now here," it
said, "not to trouble you, but to thank you: you
have at length procured me rest in the grave. I was
betrothed to the lady whom you saw in the charnel;
and I basely deserted her for another. I stood at
the altar, about to be married to my second love,
when suddenly the lady rushed into the church, and
having stabbed herself with a dagger, said to me, as
she was expiring, " You shall never have rest in the
grave,-no, never, till the babe unborn shall ask forgivenessfor you."  The skeleton rewarded the good
offices of the young woman by discovering to her
the place where a heap of treasure was concealed.
The second story is:
Lord llowth's Rat.
Tom Sheridan was shooting on the moors in Ireland, and lost his dog. A day or two after, it made
its appearance, following an Irish labourer. It was




168          RECOLLECTIONS OF TIlE
restored to Sheridan, who remarked to the labourer
that " the dog seemed very familiar with him." The
answer was, "Yes, it follows me, as the rat did Lord
Howth." An inquiry about this rat drew forth what
is now to be told.-Lord Howth, having dissipated
his property, retired in very low spirits to a lonely
chateau on the sea-coast. One stormy night a vessel
was seen to go down; and next morning a raft was
beheld floating towards the shore. As it approached,
the bystanders were surprised to find that it was
guided by a lady, who presently stepped upon the
beach. She was exquisitely beautiful; but they
were unable to discover who or what she was, for
she spoke in an unknown tongue. Lord Howth was
struck with great pity for this fair stranger, and
conducted her to his chateau. There she remained
a considerable time, when he became violently enamoured of her, and at last asked her to become his
wife. She (having now learned the English language) thanked him for the honour he had intended
her; but declared in the most positive terms that
she could never be his. She then earnestly advised
him  to marry a certain lady of a neighbouring
county. He followed her advice; paid his addresses




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      169
to the lady, and was accepted. Before the marriage,
the beautiful stranger took a ribbon from her hair,
and binding it round the wrist of Lord Howth, said,
"Your happiness depends on your never parting
with this ribbon." He assured her that it should
remain constantly on his wrist. She then disappeared, and was never seen again. The marriage
took place.  The ribbon was a matter of much
wonder and curiosity to the bride; and one night,
while Lord Hlowth was asleep, she removed it from
his wrist, and carried it to the fire, that she might
read the characters inscribed upon it. Accidentally
she let the flame reach it, and it was consumed.
Some time after, Lord Howth was giving a grand
banquet in his hall, when the company were suddenly disturbed by the barking of dogs. This, the
servants said, was occasioned by a rat which the
dogs were pursuing. Presently the rat, followed by
the dogs, entered the hall. It mounted on the table,
and running up to Lord Howth, stared at him earnestly with its bright black eyes. Ie saved its life;
and from that moment it never quitted him: wherever he was, alone or with his friends, there was the
rat. At last the society of the rat became very dis8




170            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
agreeable to Lord Howth; and his brother urged
him to leave Ireland for a time, that he might get
rid of it.  He did so, and proceeded to Marseilles,
accompanied by his brother. They had just arrived
at that place, and were sitting in the room of an
hotel, when the door opened, and in came the rat.
It was dripping wet, and went straight to the fire to
dry itself. Lord Howth's brother, greatly enraged
at the intrusion, seized the poker, and dashed out
its brains.  " You have murdered me," cried Lord
Howth, and instantly expired.
Howley, the present Archbishop of Canterbury,
edited and wrote the preface to Russell's Sonnets and
Poems.*  I like Russell's sonnet about Philoctetes,
which you say Wordsworth admires so much.t
[" Supposed to be written at Lemnos.
On this lone isle, whose rugged rocks affright
The cautious pilot, ten revolving years
Great Pceas' son, unwonted erst to tears,
Wept o'er his wound: alike each rolling light
* Firstprinted at Oxford, 1789, 4to.-ED.
t See letter to Rev. A. Dyce in Wordsworth's Memoirs, ii. 280.ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             171
Of heaven he watch'd, and blam'd its lingering flight;
By day the sea-mew, screaming round his cave,
Drove slumber from his eyes, the chiding wave
And savage howlings chas'd his dreams by night.
Hope still was his: in each low breeze that sigh'd
Through his rude grot he heard a coming oar,
In each white cloud a coming sail he spied;
Nor seldom listen'd to the fancied roar
Of (Eta's torrents, or the hoarser tide
That parts fam'd Trachis from th' Euboic shore."]
I like, too, that one which begins, " Could, then,
the babes."
[" Could, then, the babes from yon unshelter'd cot
Implore thy passing charity in vain?
Too thoughtless youth I what though thy happier lot
Insult their life of poverty and pain;
What though their Maker doom'd them thus forlorn
To brook the mockery of the taunting throng,
Beneath th' oppressor's iron scourge to mourn,
To mourn, but not to murmur at his wrong?
Yet when their last late evening shall decline,
Their evening cheerful, though their day distrest,
A hope perhaps more heavenly bright than thine,
A grace by thee unsought and unpossest,




172           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
A faith more fix'd, a rapture more divine,
Shall gild their passage to eternal rest."]
Grattan's aunt wag intimate with Swift's Stella,
(Mrs. Johnson), who would sometimes sleep with her
in the same bed, and pass the whole night in tears.
Stella was not handsome.
At one of Lady Crewe's dinner-parties, Grattan,
after talking very delightfully for some time, all at
once seemed disconcerted, and sunk into silence. I
asked his daughter, who was sitting next to me, the
reason of this.  " Oh," she replied, " he has just
found out that he has come here in his powderingcoat."
Grattan said that Malone went about, looking,
through strongly-magnifying spectacles, for pieces
of straw and bits of broken glass.
He used to talk with admiration of the French
translation of Demosthenes by Anger: he thought
it the best of all translations.
He declared that the two greatest men of modern
times were William the Third and Washington.
" Three persons," said Grattan, " are considered




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGEIS.      17I
as having the best claim to the authorship of Jrnius's
Letters,-Gibbon, Hamilton, and Burke. Gibbon
is out of the question. I do not believe that they
were Hamilton's; because a man, who was willing
to be known as the author of a bad piece, would
hardly have failed to acknowledge that he had
written an excellent book. I incline to think that
Burke was Junius.
" Burke," observed Grattan, " became at last
such an enthusiastic admirer of kingly power, that
he could not have slept comfortably on his pillow,
if he had not thought that the king had a right to
carry it off from under his head."
" Do you ever say your prayers  " asked Plunkett of Grattan. "No, never."-" What, never?
neither night nor morning?" " Never: but I have
aspirations all day and all night long."
" What you have just mentioned," said one of
Grattan's friends to him, " is a profound secret:
where could you have heard it? "  Grattan replied,
" Where secrets are kept,-in the street."
You remember the passage in myHumccn l'fe?" A walk in Spring-Grattan, like those with thee
By the heath-side (who had not envied me?),




174            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
When the sweet limes, so full of bees in June,
Led us to meet beneath their boughs at noon;
And thou didst say which of the great and wise,
Could they but hear and at thy bidding rise,
Thou wouldst call up and question."
I allude to some lime-trees near Tunbridge Wells.
Grattan would say to me, "' Come, Rogers, let's take
a walk among the lime-trees, and hear those great
senators, the bees; " and, while we were listening
to their buzzing and humming, he would exclaim,
"'Now, they are holding a committee," &c., &c. He
would say, too, " Were I a necromancer, I should
like to call up Scipio Africanus: he was not so skilful a captain as Hannibal; but he was a greater and
more virtuous man.  And I should like to talk to
Julius Csesar on several points of his history,-on
one particularly (though I would not press the subject, if disagreeable to him); —I should wish to know
what part he took during Catiline's conspiracy. —
"Should you like to call up Cleopatra? " I asked.
" No," replied Grattan, " not Cleopatra: she would
tell me nothing but lies; and her beauty would make
me sad." — Grattan was so fond of walking with me,
* The very reverse of the effect which the beauty of the little




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            175
that Mrs. Grattan once said to him rather angrily,
"You'll be taken for Mr. Rogers's shadow."
" How I should like," said Grattan one day to
me, " to spend my whole life in a small neat cottage!
I could be content with very little; I should need
only cold meat, and bread, and beer, —and plenty
of claret."
I once said to Grattan, " If you were now only
twenty years old, and Cooke were about to set sail
round the world, should you like to accompany
him 2 " He answered, " I have no wish to see such
countries as he saw: I should like to see Rome,
Athens, and some parts of Asia; but little besides."
He declared that he had rather be shot than go
up in a balloon.
Grattan's uncle, Dean Marley, gave the nicest
little dinners and kept the best company in Dublin:
his parties were delightful.  At that time he had
about four hundred a year. Afterwards, when he
succeeded to an estate and was made a Bishop, he
cottage-girl produced on Wordsworth-" Her beauty made me glad."
We are Seven. Speaking to me of the poem just cited, Wordsworth
said, " It is founded on fact. I met a little girl near Goderich Castle, who, though some of her brothers and sisters were dead, would
talk of them in the present tense. I wrote that poem backward,that is, I began with the last stanza."-ED.




176          RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
gave great dinners chiefly to people of rank and
fashion (foolish men and foolish women); and his
parties lost all their charm.
He had a good deal of the humour of Swift.
Once, when the footman was out of the way, he
ordered the coachman to fetch some water from the
well. To this the coachman objected, that his business was to drive, not to run on errands. "Well,
then," said MIarley, " bring out the coach and four,
set the pitcher inside, and drive to the well;"-a
service which was several times repeated, to the
great amusement of the village.
Places are given away by Government as often
for the sake of silencing animosity as in the hope of
assistance from the parties benefited.
The French Revolution was the greatest event
in Europe since the irruption of the Goths.
The most beautiful and magnificent view on the




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       177
face of the earth is the prospect of Mont Blanc from
the Jura Mountains.
Archibald Hamilton, afterwards Duke of Hamilton,* (as his daughter, Lady Dunmore, told me)
advertised for " a Hermit" as an ornament to his
pleasure-grounds; and it was stipulated that the said
Hermit should have his beard shaved but once a
year, and that only partially.
A friend, calling on him one forenoon, asked if
it was true that he kept a young tame tiger. He
immediately slapped his thighs, and uttered a sort
of whistle; and forth crept the long-backed animal
from under the sofa. The visitor soon retreated.
Lord Shelburne could say the most provoking
things, and yet appear quite unconscious of their
being so. In one of his speeches, alluding to Lord
Carlisle, he said, "The noble lord has written a
comedy." "No, a tragedy." t-" Oh, I beg pardon;
I thought it was a comedy."
* Ninth Duke of Hamilton.-ED. t The Father's Revenge.-ED.
8*




178              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Only look at that sunset! it is enough to make
one feel devout.-I was once driving through the
Park on my way to a dinner-party, when the sun
was setting so beautifully that I could not resist
staying to see all that I could see of it; and so I
desired the coachman to drive me round and round
till it was fairly set. Dinner was begun when I
arrived; but that did not much matter.*
Once at Thomas Grenville's t house I was rapturously admiring a sunset. "Yes," he observed, "it
is very handsome: " and some time after, when
was admiring another sunset, he said, " Why, you
are as foolish as Rogers."
When a lady; a friend of mine, was in Italy, she
* Those who were not acquainted with Mr. Rogers may perhaps
think that there was some affectation in all this: but assuredly there
was none. In the passage with which Italy now concludes, he says,
describing himself," Nature denied him much;
But gave him at his birth what most he values,
A passionate love for music, sculpture, painting,
For poetry, the language of the gods,
For all things here or grand or beautiful,
A Setting Sun, a lake among the mountains," &c.-ED.
f The Right Honourable T. G.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           119
went into a church, and knelt down among the crowd.
An Italian woman, who was praying at some little
distance, rose up, came softly to my friend, whispered
in her ear, "If you continue to flirt with my husband, I'll be the death of you;" and then, as softly,
returned to her genuflections. Such things cannot
happen where there are pews.
I know few lines finer than the concluding stanza
of Life   by Mrs. Barbauld, who composed it when
she was very old;
" Life! we've been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather:'Tis hard to part when friends are dear;
Perhaps'twill cost a sigh, a tear;
Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time,
Say not Good Night, but in some brighter clime
Bid me Good Morning."
Sitting with Madame D'Arblay some weeks be* Wordsworth also thought very highly of these lines: see his
Memoirs, ii. 222.-ED.




180             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
fore she died, I said to her, " Do you remember
those lines of Mrs. Barbauld's -Life which  I once
repeated to you  "   "Remember them!" she replied; "I repeat them  to myself every night before
I go to sleep."
Strangely enough,* in spite of her correct taste,
Mrs. Barbauld was quite fascinated by Darwin's Botaeic Garden when it first appeared, and talked of
it with rapture; for which I scolded her heartily.
One day, as she was going to Hampstead in the
stage-coach, she had a Frenchman for her companion;
and entering into conversation with him, she found
that he was making an excursion to Hampstead for
the express purpose of seeing the house in the Flask
Walk where Clarissa Harlowe lodged.t  What a
compliment to the genius of Richardson!
* It is not so strange, when we recollect that The Botanic Garden
fascinated even Cowper: see his verses to Darwin, written in conjunction with Hayley.-Wordsworth once said to me: " Darwin had
not an atom of feeling: he was a mere eye-voluptuary. He has so
many similes all beginning with' So,' that I used to call The Botanic
Garden so-so poetry."' —ED.
t " The writer of these observations well remembers a Frenchman who paid a visit to Hampstead for the sole purpose of finding
out the house in the fask-walk where Clarissa lodged, and was sur



TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 181
Bobus Smith * (who  could repeat by heart an
astonishing quantity of Latin prose) used to admire
greatly the " raptor, largitor" t of Tacitus.  I am
inclined to prefer Sallust's expression, "alieni appetens, sui profusus." 1
A  few  days before his death, Bobus said to me,
" Rogers, however we may doubt on some points, we
have made up our minds on one,-that Christ was
sent into the world commissioned by the Almighty
to instruct mankind."   I replied, "Yes; of that I
am  perfectly convinced."
Wheh I was a lad, I recollect seeing  a whole
prised at the ignorance or indifference of the inhabitants on that
subject. The flaskc-walk was to him as much classic ground as the
rocks of Meillerie to the admirers of Rousseau; and probably, if an
English traveller were to make similar inquiries in Switzerland, he
would find that the rocks of Meillerie and the chalets of the Valais
suggested no ideas to the inhabitants but such as were connected with
their dairies and their farms. A constant residence soon destroys all
sensibility to objects of local enthusiasm." Mrs. Barbauld's Life of
Richardson, p. cix.-ED.
* i. e. Robert Smith, the elder brother of Sydney, and one of
the best writers of Latin verse since the days of the ancients. Bobus was the nickname given to him by his schoolfellows at Eton.
-ED.
t Hist. lib. ii. c. 86.-ED.
t Bell. Cat., near the beginning.-ED.




182          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
cartful of young girls, in dresses of various colours,
on their way to be executed at Tyburn. They had
all been condemned, on one indictment, for having
been concerned in (that is, perhaps, for having been
spectators of) the burning of some houses during
Lord George Gordon's riots. It was quite horrible.
-Greville was present at one of the trials consequent
on those riots, and heard several boys sentenced,
to their own excessive amazement, to be hanged.
" Never," said Greville with great naivete, " did I
see boys cry o8."
I once observed to a friend of mine, "' Why, you
and Mr.   - live like two brothers."  He replied,
" God forbid!" And it must be confessed that most
of the " misunderstandings " which we hear of, exist
between brothers and sisters.  These "misunderstandings" often arise from the eminence acquired
by some one member of a family, which the others
cannot endure.
In my youth, just as I was beginning to be a
little known, I felt much gratified by an invitation
to breakfast with Townley, the statue collector;
and one night, at home, I mentioned the invitation.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                  183
"You have told us that before," was the remark.
In days of old they used to put an obnoxious brother into a pit, and sell him to the Ishmaelites.-I
became very intimate with Townley, who liked me
because I was so fond of art. I have stayed with
him  for days, both in London and in the country;
indeed, I was in his house when he died.
Sir Thomas Lawrence told me, that when he, in
his boyhood, had received a prize * from the Society
* Sometimes, in telling this anecdote, Mr. Rogers would speak
of young Lawrence's prize as " a medal which he put on," &c. But
from Williams's Life of Lawrence it appears that the prize adjudged
to him in 1784 by the Society of Arts (for a drawing in crayons
after the Transfiguration of Raphael) was the silver palette entirely
gilt and five guineas. "It was the law of the Society, that a work
of this description, to compete for the main prize [the gold medal]
must be performed within one year prior to the date at which it is
sent to the Society. Mr. Lawrence's drawing was marked as performed in 1782, and it was not sent to the Society till the year 1784;
and this excluded it, according to the conditions of the Society,
from being taken into consideration for the higher prize. It was
considered, however, to possess such very extraordinary merit, that
the Society was not content with putting the gilt rim to the palette,
but ordered it to be entirely gilt. Pecuniary rewards for works of art
had long been abandoned; and this vote of five guineas was a very
striking testimony of the opinions of the Society in favour of the work."
vol. i. 90.-ED.




184[         RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
of Arts, he went with it into the parlour where his
brothers and sisters were sitting; but that not one
of them would take the slightest notice of it; and
that he was so mortified by their affected indifference, that he ran up stairs to his own room, and
burst into tears.
On coming home late one night, I found Sir
Thomas Lawrence in the street, hovering about my'
door, and waiting for my return. He immediately
began the tale of his distress,-telling me that he was
in pressing want of a large sum of money, and that he
depended on my assistance, being sure that I would
not like to see the President of the Royal Academy
a bankrupt. I replied that I would try what I could
do for him next morning. Accordingly, I went early
to Lord Dudley. " As you," I said, " can command
thousands and thousands of pounds, and have a truly
feeling heart, I want you to help a friend of mine,not, however, by a gift, but either by a loan, or by
purchasing some valuable articles which he has to
sell."  Dudley, on learning the particulars, accompanied me to Sir Thomas's house, where we looked
at several pictures which he wished to dispose of in
order to meet the present difficulty. Most of them




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        185
were early pictures of the Italian school, and, though
valuable, not pleasing perhaps to any except artists.
Dudley bought one of them (a Raphael, in his first
style, as it was called, and probably was), giving, I
believe, more than a thousand guineas for it; and
he lent Sir Thomas, on a bond, a very considerable
sum besides. No doubt, if Lawrence had lived, he
would have repaid Lord Dudley by instalments;
but he died soon after, and not a penny was ever
paid back. This to so very wealthy a man as Dudley was of no consequence; and I dare say he never
thought about it at all.-Sir Thomas at the time of
his death was a good deal in my debt; nor was I
ever repaid.-He used to purchase works of art,
especially drawings of the old masters, at immense
prices; he was careless in keeping accounts; and
he was very generous: hence his difficulties, which
were every now and then occurring.
When I mentioned to Mrs. Siddons the anecdote
of "Lawrence and his prize," she said, "Alas! after
I became celebrated, none of my sisters loved me
as they did before."




186          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Mrs. Siddons told me, that one night as she stepped into her carriage to return home from the theatre, Sheridan suddenly jumped in after her. " Mr.
Sheridan," she said, "I trust that you will behave
with all propriety: if you do not, I shall immediately
let down the glass, and desire the servant to show
you out." Sheridan did behave with all propriety:
" but," continued Mrs. Siddons, " as soon as we had
reached my house in Marlborough Street, and the
footman had opened the carriage-door,-only think!
the provoking wretch bolted out in the greatest
haste, and slunk away, as if anxious to escape unseen!"
After she had left the stage, Mrs. Siddons, from
the want of excitement, was never happy. When I
was sitting with her of an afternoon, she would say,
" Oh, dear! this is the time I used to be thinking
of going to the theatre: first came the pleasure of
dressing for my part; and then the pleasure of acting it; but that is all over now."
When a grand public dinner was given to John
Kemble on his quitting the stage, Mrs. Siddons said
to me, " Well, perhaps in the next world women
will be more valued than they are in this." She




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 187
alluded to the comparatively little sensation which
had been produced by her own retirement from the
boards: and  doubtless she was a far, far greater
performer than John Kemble.
Combe   recollected having seen Mrs. Siddons,
when a very young woman, standing by the side of
her father's stage, and knocking a pair of snuffers
against a candlestick, to imitate the sound of a windmill, during the representation of some Harlequinpiece.
* See p. 112.-Combe had conceived a violent dislike to Mrs.
Siddons,-why I know not. In a passage of his best work he studiously avoids the mention of her name;"The Drama's children strut and play
In borrow'd parts, their lives away;And then they share the oblivious lot;
Smith will, like Cibber, be forgot!
Cibber with fascinating art
Could wake the pulses of the heart;
But hers is an expiring name,
And darling Smith's will be the same."
The Tour of Doctor Syntax in Search of the
Picturesque, p. 229, third ed. 1813.
The "darling Smith" was the late Mrs. Bartley.-Mrs. Siddons used
to say that the public had a sort of pleasure in mortifying their old
favourites by setting up new idols; that she herself had been three
times threatened with an eclipse,-first by means of Miss Brunton
(afterwards Lady Craven), next by means of Miss Smith, and lastly
by means of Miss O'Neil: "nevertheless," she added, "I am not yet
extinguished."-ED.




188           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
John Kemble was often very amusing when he
had had a good deal of wine.  He and two friends
were returning to town in an open carriage from the
Priory (Lord Abercorn's) where they had dined;
and as they were waiting for change at a toll-gate,
iKemble, to the amazement of the toll-keeper, called
out in the tone of -Rolla, " We seek no change; and,
least of all, such change as he would bring us."' 
When Kemble was living at Lausanne, he used
to feel rather jealous of Mont Blanc; he disliked
to hear people always asking " How  does Mont
Blanc look this morning? "
Sir George Beaumont,t when a young man, was
introduced at Rome to an old painter, who in his
youth had known an old painter, who had seen
Claude and Gaspar Poussin riding out, in a morning, on mules, and furnished with palettes, &c., to
make sketches in the Campagna.
* Pizarro, act ii. sc. 2 (where it is "-   as they would bring us").
-ED.
f During his latter years, I have sometimes heard Mr. Rogers
state that he was himself introduced to the old painter," &c.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      189
Three Irishmen (I am glad that they were not
Englishmen) went up Vesuvius. They stopped at
the hermitage to refresh themselves; and while they
were drinking lachrima Christi there, the Emperor
and Empress of Austria arrived. The three Irishmen positively refused to admit them; but afterwards, on being told that a lady was outside, they
offered to give up half the apartment. Upon this,
the attendants of the Emperor (though against his
wish) speedily cleared the hermitage of the three
Irishmen, who, in a great passion, proceeded up to
the crater. As they were coming down again, they
met the royal personages, whom they abused most
heartily, calling the Empress a variety of names
under her bonnet. No notice of all this was ever
taken by the Emperor: but, the story having got
wind immediately, the three Irishmen thought it best
to decamp next morning from Naples, their conduct
having excited the highest indignation among the
British who were resident there.-I once told this
anecdote at Lord Lonsdale's table, when Lord Eldon
and Lord Castlereagh were present; and the remark
of Lord Castlereagh was, " I am sorry to say that it
is too true.'




190          RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
The Colosseum in the Regenfs Park is a noble
building,-finer than any thing among the remains
of ancient architectural art in Italy. It is ridiculous
to hear Englishmen who have been at Rome talking
with such rapture of the ancient buildings they have
seen there: in fact, the old Romans were but indifferent architects.
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, was not so
beautiful as she was fascinating; her beauty was not
that of features, but of expression. Every body knows
her poem, Mfount St. Gothard; she wrote also what
is much less known, a novel called The Sylph.*
Gaming was the rage during her day: she indulged
in. it, and was made miserable by her debts. A farotable was kept by Martindale, at which the Duchess
and other high fashionables used to play. Sheridan
said that the Duchess and Martindale had agreed
that whatever they two won from each other should
be sometimes double, sometimes treble, the sum which
it was called; and Sheridan assured us that he had
handed the Duchess into her carriage when she was
e 1788. 2 vols.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          191
literally sobbing at her losses,-she perhaps having
lost 15001., when it was supposed to be only 5001.
General Fitzpatrick said that the Duke's love
for her grew quite cool a month after their marriage; that she had many sighing swains at her
feet,-among others, the Prince of Wales, who chose
to believe that she smiled upon Lord Grey; and
hence the hatred which the Prince bore to him.
The Duke, when walking home from  Brookes's
about day-break (for he did not relish the gaieties at
Devonshire House) used frequently to pass the stall
of a cobbler who had already commenced his work.
As they were the only persons stirring in that quarter, they always saluted each other.  " Good night,
friend," said the Duke.  " Good morning, sir," said
the cobbler.
The Duchess was dreadfully hurt at the novel A
Winter in Iondon: * it contained various anecdotes
concerning her, which had been picked up from her
confidential attendants; and she thought, of course,
that the little great world in which she lived was inti* In 3 vols., by T. S. Surr. The Duchess figures in it under the
name of the Duchess of Belgrave. This novel (which was much read
at the time) is inferior to any second-rate worh of fiction of the present
day.-ED.




192          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
mately acquainted with all her proceedings. "Never
read that book, for it has helped to kill me," were
her words to a very near relative.
I introduced Sir Walter Scott to Madame
D'Arblay, having taken him with me to her house.
She had not heard that he was lame; and when he
limped towards a chair, she said, "Dear me, Sir
Walter, I hope you have not met with an accident a " He answered, " An accident, madam, nearly
as old as my birth."
At the time when Scott and Byron were the two
lions of London, Hookham Frere observed, " Great
poets formerly (Homer and Milton) were blind; now
they are lame."
One forenoon Scott was sitting for his bust to
Chantrey, who was quite in despair at the dull and
heavy expression of his countenance. Suddenly,
Fuller (" Jack Fuller," the then buffoon of the
House of Commons) was announced by a servant;
and, as suddenly, Scott's face was lighted up to
that pitch of animation which the sculptor desired,
and which he made all haste to avail himself of.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           193
After dining at my house, Sir Walter (then Mr.)
Scott accompanied me to a party given by Lady
Jersey. We met Sheridan there, who put the question to Scott in express terms, " Pray, Mr. Scott,
did you, or did you not, write T'Vaverley?"  Scott
replied, " On my honour, I did not."  Now, though
Scott may perhaps be justified for returning an
answer in the negative, I cannot think that he is
to be excused for strengthening it with " on my
honour."
There is a very pleasing spirit of kindness in
Scott's Life of Swift and.lives of the N-ovelists; he
endeavours to place every body's actions in the most
favourable light.
As a story, his l;ady of the Lake is delightful.*
-On the whole, his poetry is too carelessly written
to suit my taste; but parts of it are very happy;
these lines of Afarmion, for instance;'" To seize the moment Marmion tried,
And whisper'd to the king aside:' Oh, let such tears unwonted plead
* I have heard Wordsworth say that it was one of the most
charming stories ever invented by a poet.-ED.
9




194            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
For respite short from dubious deed!
A child will weep a bramble's smart,
A maid to see her sparrow part,
A stripling for a woman's heart:
But woe awaits a country when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
Then, oh, what omen, dark and high,
When Douglas wets his manly eye!' "
and the still better passage in the same poem:
0 woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou! " t
Why there should be evil in the world is indeed
a mystery. Milton attempts to answer the question;
but he has not done it satisfactorily.   The three
acutest men with whom I was ever acquainted, Sir
James Mackintosh, Malthus, and Bobus Smith,4 were
* Canto v. xvi.-ED.         t Canto vi. xxx.-ED.
I See note, p. 181.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          195
all agreed that the attributes of the Deity must be
in some respects limited, else there would be no sin
and misery.*
When I lived in the Temple, Mackintosh and
Richard Sharp used to come to my chambers, and
stay there for hours, talking metaphysics.  One day
they were so intent on their " first cause," "spirit,"
and " matter," that they were unconscious of my
having left them, paid a visit, and returned! I was
a little angry at this, and, to show my indifference
about them, I sat down and wrote letters, without
taking any notice of them.
Mlackintosh told me that he had received in his
youth comparatively little instruction,-whatever
learning he possessed he owed to himself. He had a
prodigious memory, and could repeat by heart more
of Cicero than you would easily believe. His knowledge of Greek was slender. I never met a man
with a fuller mind than Mlackintosh,-such readiness
on all subjects, such a talker!
* I cannot help remarking-that men whom the world regards as
far greater "lights" than the three above mentioned, have thought
very differently on this subject.-ED.




196          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I once travelled with him on the Continent; yet,
in spite of his delightful conversation, some how or
other we did not hit it off well. At Lausanne my
sister and I went to see Gibbon's house; and, borrowing the last volume of the Decline Gand Fall, we
read the concluding passages of it on the very spot
where they were written. But such an amusement
was not to Mackintosh's taste: he meanwhile was
trotting about, and making inquiries concerning the
salaries of professors, &c. &c. When we were leaving Geneva, I- could not find my sccc-de-nuit, and was
forced to buy a new one. On stepping into the carriage, I saw there, to my surprise, the lost article,
which Mackintosh had very coolly taken and had
stuffed with recently-purchased books.
Mackintosh often said that Herschel's Discourse
on the Study of Natural Philosophy was undoubtedly the finest thing of its kind since the publication of Bacon's Novum Organon.
Lord Ellenborough had infinite wit. When the
income-tax was imposed, he said that Lord Kenyon
(who was not very nice in his habits) intended, in consequence of it, to lay down —his pocket-handkerchief.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     197
A lawyer one day pleading before him, and using
several times the expression " my unfortunate client,"
Lord Ellenborough suddenly interrupted him," There, sir, the court is with you."
Lord Ellenborough was once about to go on the
circuit, when Lady E. said that she should like to
accompany him. He replied that he had no objections, provided she did not encumber the carriage
with bandboxes, which were his utter abhorrence.
They set off. During the first day's journey, Lord
Ellenborough, happening to stretch his legs, struck
his feet against something below the seat. He discovered that it was a bandbox. His indignation is
not to be described. Up went the window, and out
went the bandbox. The coachman stopped; and
the footmen, thinking that the bandbox had tumbled
out of the window by some extraordinary chance,
were going to pick it up, when Lord Ellenborough
furiously called out, "Drive on!" The bandbox
accordingly was left by a ditch-side.  Having
reached the county-town where he was to officiate
as judge, Lord Ellenborough proceeded to array
himself for his appearance in the court-house.
" Now," said he, "where's my wig,-where is my




198           RECOLLECTIONS OF TIHE
wig  "  " My Lord," replied his attendant, "it was
thrown out of the carriage-window."
The English highwaymen of former days (indeed, the race is now extinct) were remarkably wellbred personages. Thomas Grenville,* while travelling with Lord Derby; and Lord Tankerville, while
travelling with his father; were attacked by highwaymen: on both occasions, six or seven shots were
exchanged between them and the highwaymen; and
when the parties assailed had expended all their
ammunition, the highwaymen came up to them, and
took their purses in the politest manner possible.
Foreigners have more romance in their natures
than we English. Fuseli, during his later years,
used to be a. very frequent visitor of Lady Guilford,
at Putney Hill. In the grounds belonging to her
villa there was a statue of Flora holding a wreath
of flowers. Fuseli would frequently place in the
wreath a slip of paper, containing some pretty sen" The Right Honourable T. G.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      199
timent, or some expressions of kindness, intended
for Lady Guilford's daughters; who would take it
away) and replace it by another of the same kind.
When one of these ladies told me this, the tears
were in her eyes.
The three great curses of Ireland are, Absenteeism, Middle-men, and the Protestant Establishment.
A man who attempts to read all the new publications must often do as a flea does —skip.
Such is the eagerness of the human mind for excitement,-for an event,-that people generally have
a sort of satisfaction in reading the deaths of their
friends in the newspapers. I don't mean that a man
would not be shocked to read there the death of his
child, or of his dearest friend; but that he feels a
kind of pleasure in reading that of an acquaintance,
because it gives him something to talk about with
every body on whom he may have to call during
the day.




200          RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
You remember the passage in Kiing Lear,-a
passage which Mrs. Siddons said that she never
could read without shedding tears," Do not laugh at me;
For as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia." *
Something of the same kind happened in my own
family. A gentleman, a near relation of mine, was
on his death-bed, and his intellect much impaired,
when his daughter, whom he had not seen for a considerable time, entered the room. He looked at her
with the greatest earnestness, and then exclaimed,
" I think I should know this lacdy: " but his recognition went no further.
One morning I had a visit from Lancaster, whom
I had never before seen. The moment he entered
the room, he began to inform me of his distresses,
and burst into tears. He was unable, he said, to
carry on his school for want of money,-he owed
some hundred pounds to his landlord,- he had been
to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who would do
* Act iv. sc. 7.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 201
nothing for him, &c. &c.; and he requested me to
go and  see his school.  I  went; and  was so  delighted with what I saw  (the system  of monitors,
&c.), that I immediately lent him  the sum  which he
stood in need of; and he put his title-deeds into my
hands.  I never was repaid  one farthing  of that
money; indeed, on  finding  that Lancaster  owed
much larger sums both  to William  Allen  and  to
Joseph Fox, I forbore urging my  claims, and  returned the title-deeds.*
George Selwyn, as everybody knows, delighted
in seeing executions; he never missed being in cg   a
death at Tyburn.  When  Lord Holland (the father
of Charles Fox) was confined to bed by a dangerous
* I was well acquainted with Lancaster.  He once came to
me in great agitation, and complained bitterly that' they wanted to
put him under the control of a committee, who were to allow him
3651. a-year,' &c. &c.  I knew how thoughtless and improvident
he had been, driving about the country with four horses, and doing
many other foolish things; and I could not take that view of his
case which he wished me to take. This offended him: he burst into
tears, and left the room, declaring that he would never again come
near me. He went to America, and died there in obscurity,-a man
who, if he had only possessed prudence, might have had statues
erected to him."  MR. MALTBY (see notice prefixed to Porsoniana in
this volume). —ED.
9*




202            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
illness, he was informed by his servant that Mr.
Selwyn had recently called to inquire for him. " On
his next visit," said Lord Holland,  be sure you let
him in, whether I am alive or a corpse; for, if I am
alive, I shall have great pleasure in seeing him;
and if I am a corpse, he will have great pleasure in
seeing me."-The late Lord Holland told me this.
Payne Knight was seized with an utter loathing
of life, and destroyed himself. He had complaints
which were very painful, and his nerves were completely shattered.* Shortly before his death, he
would come to me of an evening, and tell me how
sick he was of existence.  He had recourse to the
strongest prussic acid; and, I understand, he was
dead before it touched his lips.
Two of the most enchanting lyrics in our language are Collins's Ode to Evening, and Coleridge's
Love.  The former could not possibly be improved
by the addition of rhyme.  The latter is so exqui* Compare this account with an incidental mention of Payne
Knight in Ugo Foscolo's Discorso sul Testo, &c. di Dante, p. 26.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            203
sitely musical, that I had often repeated it to myself before I discovered that the first and third lines
of each stanza do not rhyme.
Coleridge was a marvellous talker. One morning, when Hookhami Frere also breafasted with me,
Coleridge talked for three hours without intermission about poetry, and so admirably, that I wish
every word he uttered had been written down.
But sometimes his harangues were quite unintelligible, not only to myself but to others. Wordsworth and I called upon him one forenoon, when he
was in a lodging off Pall Mall.  He talked uninterruptedly for about two hours, during which Wordsworth listened to him with profound attention, every
now and then nodding his head as if in assent. On
quitting the lodging, I said to Wordsworth, " Well,
for my own part, I could not make head or tail of
Coleridge's oration: pray did you understand it "
" Not one syllable of it," was Wordsworth's reply.*
Speaking of composition, Coleridge said most
* Wordsworth once observed to me: " What is somewhere stated
in print-that I said,'Coleridge was the only person whose intellect
ever astonished me,' is quite true. His conversation was even finer in
his youth than in his later days; for, as he advanced in life, he became a little dreamy and hyper-metaphysical." —ED.




204           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
beautifully, "What comes from  the heart goes to
the heart."
Coleridge spoke and wrote* very disparagingly
of Mackintosh: but Mackintosh, who had not a particle of envy or j ealousy in his nature, did full justice,
on all occasions, to the great powers of Coleridge.
Southey used to say that "the moment any
thing assumed the shape of a duty, Coleridge felt
himself incapable of discharging it."
In all his domestic relations Southey was the
most amiable of men; but he had no general philanthropy; he was what you call a cold mce. He was
never happy except when reading a book or making
one.  Coleridge once said to me, " I can't think of
Southey, without seeing him either mending or using
a pen." I spent some time with him at Lord Lonsdale's, in company with Wordsworth and others;
and while the rest of the party were walking about,
talking, and amusing themselves, Southey preferred
sitting solus in the library. " How cold he is! " was
* See, in Coleridge's Poet. Works, ii. 87 (ed. Pickering), The Two
Round Sapces on the Tombstone.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      205
the exclamation of Wordsworth,-himself so joyous
and communicative.
Southey told me that he had read Spenser through
about thirty times, and that he could not read Pope
through once. He thought meanly of Virgil; so did
Coleridge; and so, at one time, did Wordsworth.
When I lately mentioned to Wordsworth an unfavourable opinion which he had formerly expressed
to me about a passage of Virgil, "' Oh," he said, " we
used to talk a great deal of nonsense in those days."
Early in the present century, I set out on a tour
in Scotland, accompanied by my sister; but an accident which happened to her, prevented us from going
as far as we had intended. During our excursion
we fell in with Wordsworth, Miss Wordsworth, and
Coleridge, who were, at the same time, making a tour
in a vehicle that looked very like a cart. Wordsworth and Coleridge were entirely occupied in talking about poetry; and the whole care of looking out
for cottages where they might get refreshment and
pass the night, as well as of seeing their poor horse
fed and littered, devolved upon Miss Wordsworth.
She was a most delightful person,-so full of talent,




206               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
so simple-minded, and so modest!  If I am  not mistaken, Coleridge proved so impracticable a travellingcompanion, that Wordsworth and his sister were at
last obliged to  separate from  him.*   During  that
tour they met with Scott, who repeated to  them  a
portion of his then unpnblished cLay; which Wordsworth, as might be expected, did not greatly admire.t
I do indeed regret that Wordsworth has printed
only fragments of his sister's Journal: T it is most
excellent, and ought to have been published entire.
I was walking with Lord Lonsdale on the terrace
at Lowther Castle, when he said, "' I wish I could do
* "Coleridge," writes Wordsworth, "was at that time in bad
spirits, and somewhat too much in love with his own dejection; and
he departed from us, as is recorded in my sister's journal, soon after
we left Loch Lomond."  Memoirs of Wordsworth, i. 207. This tour
took place in 1803. —ED.
+ In my memoranda of Wordsworth's conversation I find this:
"From Sir Walter Scott's earliest poems, The Eve of St. John, &c. I
did not suppose that he possessed the power which he afterwards displayed, especially in his novels. Coleridge's Christabel no doubt gave
him the idea of writing long ballad-poems: Dr. Stoddart had a very
wicked memory, and repeated various passages of it (then unpublished)
to Scott. Part of the Lay of the Last Minstrel was recited to me by
Scott while it was yet in manuscript; and I did not expect that it
would make much sensation: but I was mistaken; for it went up like
a balloon. —ED.
t A large portion of it has since been printed in the Memoirs of
her brother.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       207
something for poor Campbell."  My rejoinder was,
" I wish you would do something for poor Wordsworth, who is in such straitened circumstances, that
he and his family deny themselves animal food several times a week."  Lord Lonsdale was the more
inclined to assist Wordsworth, because the Wordsworth family had been hardly used by the preceding
Lord Lonsdale; and he eventually proved one of
his kindest friends.
What a noble-minded person Lord Lonsdale
was! I have received from  him, in this room,
hundreds of pounds for the relief of literary men.
I never attempted to write a sonnet, because I do
not see why a man, if he has any thing worth saying,.
should be tied down to fourteen lines. Wordsworth
perhaps appears to most advantage in a sonnet, because its strict limits prevent him from running into
that wordiness to which he is somewhat prone. Don't
imagine from what I have just said, that I mean to
disparage Wordsworth: he deserves all his fame.
There are passages in Wordsworth where I can
trace his obligations to Usher's Clio.*
* Clio, or a Discourse To Taste,-a little volume of no ordinary
merit.-ED.




208            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Hoppner was a painter of decided genius. Some
of his portraits are equal to any modern portraits;
and his Venus is certainly fine.
He had an awful temper,-the most spiteful
person I ever knew! He and I were members of a
club called the Council of Trent (so named from its
consisting of thirty); and because, on one occasion,
I was interesting myself about the admission of an
artist whom Hoppner disliked, Hoppner wrote me
a letter full of the bitterest reproach. Yet he had
his good qualities.  He had been a singing-boy at
Windsor,' and consequently was allowed "the run
of the royal kitchen;" but some time after his marriage (and, it was supposed, through the ill offices of
West) that favour was withdrawn; and in order to
conceal the matter from  his wife, who, he knew,
would be greatly vexed at it, Hoppner occasionally,
after secretly pocketing a roll to dine upon, would
go out for the day, and on his return pretend that
he had been dining at Windsor.
He and Gifford were the dearest friends in the
* In consequence of the sweetness of his voice, he was made a
chorister in the Royal Chapel. His mother was one of the German
attendants at the Palace. See A. Cunningham's Lives of British
Painters, v. 242.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      209
world; and yet they were continually falling out
and abusing each other. One morning, Hoppner,
having had some little domestic quarrel with Mrs.
Hoppner, exclaimed very vehemently, "Is not a
man to be pitied who has such a wife and such a
friend" (meaning Gifford)?
His wife and daughter were always grumbling,
because, when he was asked to the Duchess of's or to Lord's, they were not invited also;
and he once said to them, " I might as well attempt
to take the York waggon with me as you." Indeed,
society is so constituted in England, that it is useless
for celebrated artists to think of bringing their families into the highest circles, where themselves are admitted only on account of their genius. Their wives
and daughters must be content to remain at home.
Gifford was extremely indignant at an article on
his translation of Juvenal which appeared in DiTe
Critical Review; and he put forth a very angry
answer to it,-a large quarto pamphlet. I lent my
copy to Byron, and he never returned it. One passage in that pamphlet is curious, because it describes,




210          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
what Gifford was himself eventually to become,-a
reviewer; who is compared to a huge toad sitting
under a stone: and besides, the passage is very
picturesque. ["'During my apprenticeship, I enjoyed perhaps as many places as Scrub, though I
suspect they were not altogether so dignified: the
chief of them was that of a planter of cabbages in a
bit of ground which my master held near the town.
It was the decided opinion of Panurge that the life
of a cabbage-planter was the safest and pleasantest
in the world. I found it safe enough, I confess, but
not altogether pleasant; and therefore took every
opportunity of attending to what I liked better,
which happened to be, watching the actions of insects and reptiles, and, among the rest, of a huge
toad. I never loved toads, but I never molested
them; for my mother had early bid me remember,
that every living thing had the same Maker as myself; and the words always rang in my ears. This
toad, then, who had taken up his residence under a
hollow stone in a hedge of blind nettles, I used to
watch for hours together. It was a lazy, lumpish
animal, that squatted on its belly, and perked up its
hideous head with two glazed eyes, precisely like a




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       211
Critical Reviewer. In this posture, perfectly satisfied with itself, it would remain as if it were a part
of the stone which sheltered it, till the cheerful buzzing of some winged insect provoked it to give signs
of life. The dead glare of its eyes then brightened
into a vivid lustre, and it awkwardly shuffled to the
entrance of its cell, and opened its detestable mouth
to snap the passing fly or honey-bee. Since I have
marked the manners of the Critical Reviewers, these
passages of my youth have often occurred to me."
An Examcinaction of the Strictures of the Critical
Reviewers on the Trcnslattion of Juvenal by W. Gifford, Esp., p. 101, third edit. 1804.]
When the Quarterly Review was first projected,
Gifford sent HIoppner to my house with a message
requesting me to become a contributor to it; which
I declined.
That odd being, Dr. Mlonsey (Physician to the
Royal Hospital, Chelsea),- used to hide his banknotes in various holes and corners of his house. One
evening, before going out, he carefully deposited a
bundle of them among the coals in the parlour-grate
where the fire was ready for lighting. Presently,




212            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
his housekeeper came into the parlour, with some
of her female friends, to have a comfortable cup of
tea; and she was in the act of lighting the fire when
the doctor luckily returned, and rescued his notes.
A friend of mine, who had been intimate with Monsey, assured me that this was fact.
Bishop Horsley one day met Monsey in the
Park.  " These are dreadful times!" said Horsley:
" not only do deists abound, but,-would you think
it, doctor?-some people deny that there is a God! "
" I can tell you," replied Monsey, " what is equally
strange,-some people believe that there are three." *
IHorsley immediately walked away.
An Englishman and a Frenchman having quarrelled, they were to fight a duel. Being both great
cowards, they agreed (for their mutual safety, of
course) that the duel should take place in a room
perfectly dark. The Englishman had to fire first.
He groped his way to the hearth, fired up the chimney, and brought down-the Frenchman, who had
taken refuge there.
* To say nothing else of this speech-it was a very rude one, as
addressed to a bishop. But Monsey was a coarse humorist, who would
hardly be tolerated in the present day.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     213
A certain man of pleasure about London received
a challenge from a young gentleman of his acquaintance; and they met at the appointed place. Just
before the signal for firing was given, the man of
pleasure rushed up to his antagonist, embraced him,
and vehemently protested that "he could not lift his
arm against his own es8h and blood!" The young
gentleman, though he had never heard any imputation cast upon his mother's character, was so much
staggered, that (as the ingenious man of pleasure had
foreseen) no duel took place.
Humphrey Howarth, the surgeon, was called out,
and made his appearance in the field stark naked, to
the astonishment of the challenger, who asked him
what he meant. "I know," said H., " that if any
part of the clothing is carried into the body by a
gunshot wound, festering ensues; and therefore I
have met you thus."  His antagonist declared, that
fighting with a man in puris naturalibus. would be
quite ridiculous; and accordingly they parted without further discussion.
Lord Alvanley on returning home, after his duel
with young O'Connel, gave a guinea to the hackneycoachman who had driven him out and brought him




214           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
back.  The man, surprised at the largeness of the
sum, said, "My lord, I only took you to."
Alvanley interrupted him, " VMy friend, the guinea
is for bringing me back, not for taking me out."
I was on a visit to Lord Bath at Longleat, when
I received a letter from  Beckford inviting me to
Fonthill. I went there, and stayed three days. On
arriving at the gate, I was informed that neither
my servant nor my horses could be admitted, but
that Mr. Beckford's attendants and horses should be
at my service. The other visitors at that time were
Smith, who published IViews in Italy,  and a French
ecclesiastic, a very elegant and accomplished man.
During the day we used to drive about the beautiful
grounds in pony-chaises.  In the evening Beckford
would amuse us by reading one of his unpublished
works; or he would extemporise on the pianoforte,
producing the most novel and charming melodies
(which, by the by, his daughter, the Duchess of
Hamilton, can do also).
* Select Views in Italy, with Descriptions, Fr. and English, by John
Smith, 1792-6, 2 vols. 4to.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.          215
I was struck rather by the refinement than by
the magnificence of the hospitality at Fonthill. I
slept in a bedroom  which opened into a gallery
where lights were kept burning the whole night.
In that gallery was a picture of St. Antonio, to which
it was said that Beckford would sometimes steal and
pay his devotions.
Beckford read to me the two unprinted episodes
to VaJchei; and they are extremely fine, but very
objectionable on account of their subjects. Indeed,
they show that the mind of the author was to a
certain degree diseased.  The one is the story of a
prince and princess, a brother and sister,   * 
*A         The other is the tale of a prince who is
violently enamoured of a lady; and who, after pursuing her through various countries, at last overtakes
her only to find her a corpse.   *'' 
In one of these tales there is an exquisite description
of a voyage down the Nile.
Beckford is the author of two burlesque novels,
-Azemict  and The Eleganrt Entrhsiast. I have a
copy of the former, which he presented to me.
He read to me another tale which he had written
* Azemia: a descriptive and sentimental Novel, interspersed with
pieces of Poetry. By Jacquetta Agneta Mlfariana Jenks, of Bellegrove




216               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
-a satirical one.  It was in French, and about a man
who was ridiculously fond of dogs, &c. &c.  I have
been told that a part of his own life was shadowed
out in it. This tale he never printed.  In fact, he had
no wish to obtain literary reputation: he despised it.
I have seen Beckford shed tears while talking of
his deceased wife. His eldest daughter (Mrs. Orde *),
Priory in Wales.  Dedicated to the Right Eonourable Lady Harriet
Marlow.  To which are added, Criticisms anticipated, 1797, 2 vols.
— odern Novel Writing, or the Elegant Enthusiast; and Interesting
Emotions of Arabella Bloomville.  A  Rhapsodical Romance; interspersed with Poetry. By the Right Hon. Lady Harriet Marlow, 1796,
2 vols.  "Talked of Beckford's two mocks novels,'Agemia' [Azemia]
and the' Elegant Enthusiast,' which he wrote to ridicule the novels
written by his sister, Mrs. Harvey (I think), who read these parodies
on herself quite innocently, and only now and then suspecting that
they were meant to laugh at her, saying, Why, I vow and protest,
here is my grotto, &c. &c. In the'Elegant Enthusiast' the heroine
writes a song which she sings at a masquerade, and which produces
such an effect, that my Lord Mahogany, in the character of a Milestone, bursts into tears. It is in'Agemia' [Azemia] that all the heroes
and heroines are killed at the conclusion by a supper of stewed lampreys."
Moore's Memoirs, &c., ii. 197. As to the catastrophe of Azemia,
Moore was misinformed; that tale has nothing about a fatal supper
of stewed lampreys: there is, however, in the second volume of The
Elegant Enthusiast a similar incident, " owing to a copper stew-pan in
which some celery had been cooked." Both these novels are much in
the style of Beckford's Memoirs of Extraordinary Painters, but greatly
inferior to that strange production, which itself is unworthy of the
author of Vathek.-ED.
* Wife of Colonel, afterwards General Orde,-EDo




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         217
who has been long dead, was both in appearance and
disposition a perfect angel. Her delight was, not to
be admired herself, but to witness the admiration
which her. sister (the Duchess of HIamilton) never
failed to excite.
Beckford was eventually reduced to such straits,
that he was obliged to part with his pictures, one by
one. The last picture which he sold to the National
Gallery was Bellini's portrait of the Doge of Venice.
It was hung up the very day on which Beckford
died: the Duke of Hamilton wrote a letter to me,
requesting that it might be returned to the family;
but his application came too late.
When Porson dined with me, I used to keep him
within bounds; but I frequently met him at various
houses where he got completely drunk. He would
not scruple to return to the dining-room, after the
company had left it, pour into a tumbler the drops
remaining in the wine-glasses, and drink off the omnium gatheruin.*
* Mr. Maltby (see notice prefixed to the Porsoniana in this vol.),
who was present when Mr. Rogers told the above anecdote, said, " I
have seen Porson do so."-ED.
10




218          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
I once took him to an evening party at William
Spencer's, where he was introduced to several women
of fashion, Lady Crewe, &c., who were very anxious
to see the great Grecian. How do you suppose he
entertained them? Chiefly by reciting an immense
quantity of old forgotten Vauxhall songs. Ie was
far from sober, and at last talked so oddly, that they
all retired from him, except Lady Crewe, who boldly
kept her ground. I recollect her saying to him,
"Mr. Porson, that joke you have borrowed from
Joe Miller," and his rather angry reply, " Madam,
it is not in Joe Miller; you will not find it either in
the preface or in the body of that work, no, nor in
the index."  I brought him  home as far as Piccadilly, where, I am sorry to add, I left him sick in
the middle of the street.
When any one told Porson that he intended to
publish a book, Porson would say, " Remember that
two parties must agree on that point, —you and the
reader."
I asked him what time it would take him to
translate The lyiad literally and correctly into English prose. He answered, " At least ten years."
He used to say that something may be pleaded




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           219
as a sort of excuse for the wickedness of the worst
characters in Shakespeare.  For instance, Iago is
tortured by suspicions that Othello has been too intimate with his wife; Richard the Third, the murderer of children, has been bitterly taunted by one
of the young princes, &c.
" If I had a carriage," said Porson, " and if I
saw a well-dressed person on the road, I would always invite him in, and learn of him what I could."
Such was his love of knowledge!
He was fond of repeating these lines, and wrote
them out for me;
"What * fools are mankind,
And how strangely inclin'd,
To come from all places
With horses and chaises,
By day and by dark,
To the falls of Lanark!
For, good people, after all,
What is a water-fall?
It comes roaring and grumbling,
And leaping and tumbling,
And hopping and skipping,
And foaming and dripping;
* From Garnett's Tour in Scotland, vol. ii. 227. They were found
in an album kept at the inn at Lanark.-EI).




220            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
And struggling and toiling,
And bubbling and boiling;
And beating and jumping, 
And bellowing and thumping.
I have much more to say upon
Both Linn and Bonniton;
But the trunks are tied on,
And I must be gone."
These lines evidently suggested to Southey his
playful verses on The Cacaract of Lodore.
Oh, the exquisite English in many parts of our
version of the Scriptures! I sometimes think that
the translators, as well as the original writers, must
have been inspired.
Lord Seaforth, who was born deaf and dumb,
was to dine one day with Lord Melville. Just before the time of the company's arrival, Lady Melville
sent into the drawing-room a lady of her acquaintance, who could talk with her fingers to dumb people, that she might receive Lord Seaforth.  Presently Lord Guilford entered the room; and the
lady, taking him for Lord Seaforth, began to ply her




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            221
fingers very nimbly: Lord Guilford did the same;
and they had been carrying on a conversation in this
manner for about ten minutes, when Lady Melville
joined them.  Her female friend immediately said,
" Well, I have been talking away to this dumb man."
-" Dumb!"  cried Lord  Guilford; "bless me, I
thought you were dumb."-I told this story (which
is perfectly true) to Matthews; and he said that he
could make excellent use of it at one of his eveningentertainments: but I know not if he ever did.
I can discover from a poet's versification whether
or not he has an ear for music. Shakespeare's, Milton's, Dryden's, and Gray's prove to me that they
had it; Pope's that he had it not:-indeed, with
respect to Shakespeare, the passage in The lMerchant of  Venice x   would be enough to settle the
question.  To instance poets of the present day; —
from Bowles's and Moore's versification, I should
* "The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted."    Act v. sc. 1.-ED.




222          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
know  that they had fine ears for music; from
Southey's, Wordsworth's, and Byron's, that they
had no ears for it.
To any one who has reached a very advanced
age, a walk through the streets of London is like a
walk in a cemetery. lHow many houses do I pass,
now inhabited by strangers, in which I used to
spend such happy hours with those who have long
been dead and gone!
A friend of mine in Portland Place has a wife
who inflicts upon him every season two or three immense evening parties. At one of those parties he
was standing in a very forlorn condition, leaning
against the chimney-piece, when a gentleman, coming up to him, said, " Sir, as neither of us is acquainted with any of the people here, I think we
had best go home."
One of the books which I never tire reading is
]Me1moires sur la vct de d JeCan Racine, by his son.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            223
When I was living in the Temple, the chimneys
of one of my neighbours were to be swept. Up went
two boys; and at the end of an hour they had not
come down again.  Two other boys were then sent
up; and up they remained also.  The master of the
boys was now  summoned, who, on his arrival, exclaimed, " Oh, the idle little rascals! they are playing at all-fours on the top of the chimney." And,
to be sure, there they were, trumping it away at their
ease.  I suppose spades were their favourite cards.
How little Crowe is known * even to persons who
are fond of poetry!  Yet his lewesdon Hi/ll is full
of noble passages; for instance, that about the Halswell;
[" See how the sun, here clouded, afar off
Pours down the golden radiance of his light
Upon the enridged sea; where the black ship
Sails on the phosphor-seeming waves. So fair,
But falsely-flattering, was yon surface calm,
* So very little known, that I give at full length those passages of his poems which Mr. Rogers particularly admired.ED.




224              RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
When forth for India sail'd, in evil time,
That vessel, whose disastrous fate, when told,
Fill'd every breast with horror, and each eye
With piteous tears, so cruel was the loss.
Methinks I see her, as, by the wintry storm
Shatter'd and driven along past yonder isle,
She strove, her latest hope, by strength or art,
To gain the port within it, or at worst
To shun that harbourless and hollow coast
From Portland eastward to the promontory
Where still St. Alban's high-built chapel stands.
But art nor strength avail her-on she drives,
In storm and darkness, to the fatal coast;
And there'mong rocks and high o'er-hanging cliffs
Dash'd piteously, with all her precious freight
Was lost, by Neptune's wild and foamy jaws
Swallow'd up quick! The richliest-laden ship
Of spicy Ternate, or that annual sent
To the Philippines o'er the southern main
From Acapulco, carrying massy gold,
Were poor to this;-freighted with hopeful Youth,.And Beauty, and high Courage undismay'd
By mortal terrors, and paternal Love
Strong, and unconquerable even in deathAlas, they perish'd all, all in one hour! "]




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.              225
The conclusionof the poem is charming:
["But ill accords my verse with the delights
Of this gay month:-and see, the villagers
Assembling jocund in their best attire,
To grace this genial morn. Now I descend
To join the worldly crowd; perchance to talk,
To think, to act, as they: then all these thoughts,
That lift th' expanded heart above this spot
To heavenly musing, these shall pass away
(Even as this goodly prospect from my view),
Hidden by near and earthly-rooted cares.
So passeth human life-our better mind
Is as a Sunday's garment, then put on
When we have nought to do; but at our work
We wear a worse for thrift. Of this enough:
To-morrow for severer thought; but now
To breakfast, and keep festival to-day." ]
Of Crowe's Verses intended to have been spoken
in the Theatre at Oxford on the Installation of the
Dukle of Portland as Chancellor of the University,
a portion is very grand;
[" If the stroke of war
Fell certain on the guilty head, none else,
10o




226             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
If they that make the cause might taste th' effect,
And drink, themselves, the bitter cup they mix,
Then might the bard (though child of peace) delight
To twine fresh wreaths around the conqueror's brow;
Or haply strike his high-ton'd harp, to swell
The trumpet's martial sound, and bid them on
Whom justice arms for vengeance: but, alas!
That undistinguishing and deathful storm
Beats heaviest on th' exposed innocent,
And they that stir its fury, while it raves,
Stand at safe distance, send their mandate forth
Unto the mortal ministers that wait
To do their bidding.-Oh, who then regards
The widow's tears, the friendless orphan's cry,
And Famine, and the ghastly train of woes
That follow at the dogged heels of War?
They, in the pomp and pride of victory
Rejoicing, o'er the desolated earth,
As at an altar wet with human blood,
And flaming with the fire of cities burnt,
Sing their mad hymns of triumph; hymns to God,
O'er the destruction of his gracious works!
Hymns to the Father, o'er his slaughter'd sons! "]
Crowe was an intimate friend of mine.-When I was




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUTEL ROGERS.         227
travelling in Italy, I made two authors my constant
study for versification,-Milton and Crowe.
Most people are ever on the watch to find fault
with their children, and are afraid of praising them
for fear of spoiling them. Now, I am sure that nothing has a better effect on children thanpraise.  I
had a proof of this in Moore's daughter: he used
always to be saying to her, "What a good little
girl!" and she continued to grow more and more
good, till she became too good for this world and
died.
Did ever poet, dramatist, or novel-writer, devise
a more effective incident than the falling of the rug
in Molly Seagrim's bedroom? *  Can any thing be
more happily ludicrous, when we consider how the
actors in that scene are connected with each other?
It probably suggested to Sheridan the falling of the
screen in The School for Seandal.t
* See Fielding's Tom Jones, b. v. ch. 5.-ED., No doubt it did; as the Jones and Blifil of the same novel suggested to him Charles and Joseph Surface.-ED.




228          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Neither Moore nor myself had ever seen Byron
when it was settled that he should dine at my house
to meet Moore; nor was he known by sight to
Campbell, who, happening to call upon me that
morning, consented to join the party. I thought it
best that I alone should be in the drawing-room when
Byron entered it; and Moore and Campbell accordingly withdrew. Soon after his arrival, they
returned; and I introduced them to him severally,
naming them as Adam named the beasts. When we
sat down to cinner, I asked Byron if he would take
soup  "No; he never took soup."-Would he take
some fish   " No; he never took fish." —Presently
I asked him if he would eat some mutton? - "No;
he never ate mutton."-I then asked him if he would
take a glass of wine? "No; he never tasted wine."
-It was now necessary to inquire what he did eat
and drink; and the answer was,' Nothing but hard
biscuits and soda-water." Unfortunately, neither
hard biscuits nor soda-water were at hand; and he
dined upon potatoes bruised down on his plate and
drenched with vinegar.-My guests stayed till very
late, discussing the merits of Walter Scott and
Joanna Baillie.-Some days after, meeting Hob



TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      229
house, I said to him, "( How long will Lord Byron
persevere in his present diet? " He replied, " Just
as long as you continue to notice it." —I did not
then know, what I now know to be a fact, —that
Byron, after leaving my house, had gone to a Club in
St. James's Street, and eaten a hearty meat-supper.
Byron sent me Childe Harold in the printed
sheets before it was published; and I read it to
my sister. "This," I said, "in spite of all its
beauty, will never please the public: they will dislike the querulous repining tone that pervades it,
and the dissolute character of the hero."  But I
quickly found that I was mistaken. The genius
which the poem exhibited, the youth, the rank of
the author, his romantic wanderings in Greece,these combined to make the world stark mad about
Childe Hcarold and Byron. I knew two old maids
in Buckinghamshire who used to cry over the passage about Harold's "laughing dames" that "long
had fed his youthful appetite," * &c.
After Byron had become the rage, I was frequently amused at the manceuvres of certain noble
ladies to get acquainted with him by means of me:
* Canto i. st. 11.-ED.




230          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
for instance, I would receive a note fiom Lady -
requesting the pleasure of my company on a particular evening, with a postscript, " Pray, could you
not contrive to bring Lord Byron with you  "-~Once,
at a great party given by Lady Jersey, MIrs. Sheridan ran up to me and said, " Do, as a favour, try if
you can place Lord Byron beside me at supper."
Byron had prodigious facility of composition.
He was fond of suppers; and he used often to sup
at my house and eat heartily (for he had then given
up the hard biscuit and soda-water diet): after going
home, he would throw off sixty or eighty verses,
which he would send to press next morning."
He one evening took me to the green-room of
Drury Lane Theatre, where I was much entertained.
When the play began, I went round to the front of
the house, and desired the box-keeper to show me
into Lord Byron's box. I had been there about a
minute, thinking myself quite alone, when suddenly
Byron and Miss Boyce (the actress) emerged from
a dark corner.
In those days at least, Byron had no readiness of
reply in conversation. If you happened to let fall
any observation which offended him, he would say




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         231
nothing at the time; but the offence would lie rankling in his mind; and perhaps a fortnight after, he
would suddenly come out with some very cutting
remarks upon you, giving them as his deliberate
opinions, the results of his experience of your character.
Several women were in love with Byron, but none
so violently as Lady Caroline Lamb. She absolutely
besieged him.  He showed me the first letter he received from her; in which she assured him that, if
he was in any want of money, " all her jewels were
at his service." They frequently had quarrels; and
more than once, on coming home, I have found Lady
C. walking in the garden,* and waiting for me, to
beg that I would reconcile them.-When she met
Byron at a party, she would always, if possible, return home from it in his carriage, and accompanied
by him: I recollect particularly their returning to
town together from  Holland House.-But such was
the insanity of her passion for Byron, that sometimes,
when not invited to a party where he was to be, she
would wait for him  in the street till it was over!
Onwl night, after a great party at Devonshire House,
* Behind Mr. Rogors's house, in St, James's Place.-ED.




232           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
to which Lady Caroline had not been invited, I saw
her,-yes, saw her,-talking to Byron, with half of
her body thrust into the carriage which he had just
entered. In spite of all this absurdity, my firm belief is that there was nothing criminal between them.
Byron at last was sick of her. When their intimacy was at an end, and while she was living in the
country, she burned, very solemnly, on a sort of
funeral pile, transcripts of all the letters which she
had received from Byron, and a copy of a miniature
(his portrait) which he had presented to her; several girls from the neighbourhood, whom she had
dressed in white garments, dancing round the pile,
and singing a song which she had written for the
occasion, "Burn, fire, burn, &c.-She was mad;
and her family allowed her to do whatever she chose.
Latterly, I believe, Byron never dined with Lady
B.; for it was one of his fancies (or affectations) that' he could not endure to see women eat." I recollect
that he once refused to meet Madame de Stael at
my house at dinner, but came in the evening: and
when I have asked him to dinner without mentioning what company I was to have, he would write me
a note to inquire'if I had invited any women."




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           233
Wilkes's daughter may have had a right to burn
her father's MIemoirs;  but Moore, I conceive, was
not justified in giving his consent to the burning of
Byron's: when Byron told him that he might 6 do
whatever he pleased with them," Byron certainly
never contemplated their being burned.  If Moore
had made me his confidant in the business, I should
have protested warmly against the destruction of the
IMemoirs: but he chose Luttrell, probably because
he thought him the more fashionable man; and Luttrell, who cared nothing about the matter, readily
voted that they should be put into the fire.-There
were, I understand, some gross things in that manuscript; but I read only a portion of it, and did not
light upon them.  I remember that it contained this
anecdote:-on his marriage-night, Byron suddenly
started out of his first sleep: a taper, which burned
in the room, was casting a ruddy glare through the
crimson curtains of the bed; and he could not help
exclaiming, in a voice so loud that he wakened Lady
B., " Good God, I am surely in hell! "
" Wilkes said to me,' I have written my Memoirs, and they are
to be published by Peter Elmsley, after my ascension.' They were
burnt by his daughter." Mr. MALTBY (see notice prefixed to the
Porsoniena in this volume).-ED.




234             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
My latest intercourse with Byron was in Italy.
We travelled some time together; and, if there was
any scenery particularly well worth seeing, he generally contrived that we should pass through it in the
dark.
As we were crossing the Apennines, he told me
that he had left an order in his will that Allegra, the
child who soon after died, his daughter by Miss C.,
should never be taught the English language.-You
know that Allegra was buried at Harrow: but probably you have not heard that the body was sent
over to England in two packages, that no one might
suspect what it was.
About the same time he said,-being  at last
assured that the celebrated  critique on his early
poems in The Edinburgh Review  was written by
Lord Brougham,-'" If I ever return to England,
Brougham  shall hear from me."  He added, " That
critique cost me three bottles of claret " (to raise his
spirits after reading it).*
* Wordsworth was spending an evening at Charles Lamb's, when
he first saw the said critique, which had just appeared. He read it
through, and remarked that "though Byron's verses were probably
poor enough, yet such an attack was abominable,-that a young nobleman, who took to poetry, deserved to be encouraged, not ridiculed."
Perhaps if this had been made known to Byron, he would not have




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                  235
One day, during dinner, at Pisa,< when Shelley
and  Trelawney were with  us, Byron  chose to run
down  Shakespeare  (for whom   he, like  Sheridan,
either had, or pretended to have, little  admiration).
I said nothing.  But Shelley immediately took up
the defence of the great poet, and conducted it in
his usual meek  yet resolute manner, unmoved by
spoken of Wordsworth as he has done.-Many years ago Wordsworth
gave me the following account, which I noted down at the time.
"Lord Byron's hatred towards me originated thus.  There was a woman in distressed circumstances at Bristol, who wrote a volume of
poems, which she wished to publish and dedicate to me. She had
formed an idea that, if she became a poetess, her fortune would be
made. I endeavoured to dissuade her from indulging such vain expectations, and advised her to turn her attention to something else. I
represented to her how little chance there was that her poems, though
really evincing a good deal of talent, would make any impression on
the public; and I observed that, in our day, two persons only (whom
I did not name) had succeeded in making money by their poetry, add.
ing that in the writings of the one (Sir Walter Scott) there was little
poetic feeling, and that in those of the other (Lord Byron) it was perverted. Mr. Rogers told me that when he was travelling with Lord
Byron in Italy, his lordship confessed that the hatred he bore me
arose from the remark about his poetry which I had made to that woman, and which some good-natured friend had repeated to him."ED.
* In Moore's Life of Byron no mention is made of Mr. Rogers
having been Byron's guest at Pisa.-In Medwin's Angler in Wales,
i. 25, is an account,-exaggerated perhaps, but doubtless substantially true, —of Byron's zicked behaviour to Mr. Rogers at the Casa
LIanfranchi.-ED.




236          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
the rude things with which Byron interrupted him," Oh, that's very well for ca athei;st, &c. (Before
meeting Shelley in Italy, I had seen him only once.
It was at my own house inSt. James's Place, where
he called upon me,-introducing himself,-to request the loan of some money which he wished to
present to Leigh Hunt; and he offered me a bond
for it. Having numerous claims upon me at that
time, I was obliged to refuse the loan. Both in
appearance and in manners Shelley was the perfect
gentleman.)-That same day, after dinner, I walked
in the garden with Byron.  At the window of a
neighbouring house was a young woman holding a
child in her arms. Byron nodded to her with a
smile, and then, turning to me, said, " That child is
mine."  In the evening, we (i. e. Byron, Shelley,
Trelawney, and I) rode out from Pisa to a farm (a
podere); and there a pistol was put into my hand
for shooting at a mark (a favourite amusement of
Byron); but I declined trying my skill with it.
The farm-keeper's daughter was very pretty, and
had her arms covered with bracelets, the gift of
Byron, who did not fail to let me know that she was
one of his many loves.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.             23T
I went with him to see the Campo Santo at Pisa.
It was shown to us by a man who had two handsome daughters.  Byron told me that he had  in
vain paid his addresses to the elder daughter, but
that he was on the most intimate terms with the
other. Probably there was not one syllable of truth
in all this; for he always had the weakness of wishing to be thought much worse than he really was.
Byron, like Sir Walter Scott,* was without any
feeling for the fine arts.  He accompanied me to
the Pitti Palace at Florence; but soon growing
tired of looking at the pictures, he sat down in a
corner; and when I called out to him, "What a
noble Andrea del Sarto!" the only answer I received was his muttering a passage from  The Vticar
of WTakefielcl,-" Upon  asking  how  he had  been
taught the art of a cognoscento so very suddenly,"
&c.t  (When he and Hobhouse were standing be* "During Scott's first visit to Paris, I walked with him (and
Richard Sharp) through the Louvre, and pointed out for his particular
notice the St. Jerome of Domenichino, and some other chefs-d'ceuvre.
Scott merely glanced at them, and passed on, saying,'I really have
not time to examine them.' " Mr. MALTBY (see notice prefixed to
the Porsoniana in this volume).-ED.
f "Upon asking how he had been taught the art of a cognoscento
so very suddenly, he assured me that nothing was more easy. The




238             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
fore the Parthenon, the latter said, " Well, this is
surely very grand."  Byron replied, " Very like the
Mansion-House." )
At this time we generally had a regular quarrel
every night; and he would abuse me through thick
and thin, raking up  all the stories he had heard
which he thought most likely to mortify me,-how
I had behaved with great cruelty to Murphy, refusing to assist him in his distress, &c. &c. But next
morning he would shake me kindly by both hands;
and we were excellent friends again.
When I parted from  him in Italy (never to meet
him  more), a good many persons were looking on,
anxious to catch a glimpse of the " famous lord."
Campbell used to say that the lines which first
convinced him  that Byron  was a true poet were
these;
" Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild;
Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields,
whole secret consisted in a strict adherence to two rules; the one,
always to observe the picture might have been better if the painter
had taken more pains; and the other, to praise the works of Pietro
Perugino." Chap. xx. Compare Byron's own account of this visit to
the Pitti Palace in his Life by Moore, vol. v. 279.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.               23.
Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smil'd,
And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields;
There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds,
The free-born wanderer of thy mountain air;
Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds,
Still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare;
Art, Glory, Freedom fail, but Nature still is fair.
Where'er we tread,'tis haunted, holy ground,
No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould,
But one vast realm of wonder spreads around,
And all the Muse's tales seem truly told,
Till the sense aches with gazing to behold
The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon:
Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold
Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone:
Age shakes Athenve's tower, but spares gray Marathon." *
For my own part, I think that this passage is
perhaps the best that Byron ever wrote;
"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath neler or rarely been;' Chikde Harold, c. ii. st. 87, 88.-ED.




240             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude;'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores
unroll'd.
But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less,
Of all that flatter'd, followed, sought, and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude." *
The lines in the third canto of Childe HIarold
about the ball given by the Duchess of RIichmond
at Brussels, the night before the battle of Waterloo,
&c., are very striking.  The Duchess told me that
she had a list of her company, and that after the
battle, she added " dead" to the names of those who
had fallen,  the number being fearful.
* Childe Harold, c. ii. st. 25, 26.-ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 241
Mrs. Barbauld  once  observed  to me that she
thought Byron wrote best when he wrote about the
sect or swimnfZing,.
There is a great deal of incorrect and hasty writing in Byron's works; but it is overlooked in this
age of hasty readers. For instance,
"I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand." *
He meant to say, that on one hand was a palace, on
the other a prison.-And what think you of"And dashest him again to earth:-there let him lay "? t
Mr.'s house, the, is very splendid;
it contains a quantity of or-molu.  Now, I like to
Childe Harold, c. iv. st. 1.-ED.
t Id. c. iv. st. 180.-A lady resident in Aberdeen told me that
she used to sit in a pew of St. Paul's Chapel in that town, next to
Mrs. Byron's; and that one Sunday she observed the poet (then
about seven or eight years old) amusing himself by disturbing his
mother's devotions: he every now and then gently pricked with
a pin the large round arms of Mrs. Byron, which were covered
with white kid gloves.-Professor Stuart, of the Marischal College,
Aberdeen, mentioned to me the following proof of Lord Byron's
fondness for his mother.  Georgy, and some other little boys, were
one day allowed, much to their delight, to assist at a gathering of
apples in the Professor's garden, and were rewarded for their labour
11




242               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
have a kettle in my bed-room, to heat a little water
if necessary: but I can't get a kettle  at the 
though there is a quantity of or-molu.  Lady --
says, that when she is at the -, she is obliged to
have her clothes unpacked three times a day; for
there  are no  chests-of-drawers, though  there is a
quantity of or-molu.
The letters I receive from people, of both sexes
(people  whom   I  never  heard  of), asking me for
money, either as a gift or as a loan, are really innumerable.  Here's one   from  a student at Durham,
with some of the fruit. Georgy, having received his portion of apples,
immediately disappeared; and, on his return, after half-an-hour's
absence, to the inquiry where he had been, he replied that he had been
" carrying some apples to his poor dear mother."
At the house of the Rev. W. Harness I remember hearing Moore
remark, that he thought the natural bent of Byron's genius was to
satirical and burlesque poetry; on which Mr. Harness related what
follows. When Byron was at Harrow, he, one day, seeing a young
acquaintance at a short distance who was a violent admirer of Buonaparte, roared out this extemporaneous couplet"Bold Robert Speer was Bony's bad precursor;
Bob was a bloody dog, but Bonapart's a worser."
Moore immediately wrote the lines down, with the intention of inserting them in his Life of Byron, which he was then preparing; but they
do not appear in that work.-ED.
* I read the letter.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     243
requesting me to lend him 901. (how modest to stop
short of the hundred!). I lately had a begging
epistle from a lady, who assured me that she used
formerly to take evening walks with me in the
Park: of course I did not answer it; and a day or
two after, I had a second letter from her, beginning
"Unkind one!"
Uvedale Price * once chose to stay so long at
my house, that I began to think he would never go
away: so I one day ingeniously said to him, " You
must not leave me before the end of next week; if
you insist on going after that, you may; but certainly not before." And at the end of the week he
did go. He was a most elegant letter-writer; and
his son had some intention of collecting and publishing his correspondence.
Not long before Mrs. Inchbald died, I met her
walking near Charing Cross. She told me that she
had been calling on several old friends, but had
* Afterwards a baronet.-ED.




244:             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
seen none of them,-some being really not at home,
and others denying themselves to her.  " I called,"
she said, " on Mrs. Siddons: I knew  she was at
home; yet I was not admitted."  She was in such
low spirits, that she even shed tears. I begged her
to turn  with  me, and take  a quiet dinner at St.
James's Place; but she refused.
The "excellent writer," whom  I quote in my
Notes on EHuiman -Life, is Mlrs. Inchbald.  [" How
often, says an excellent writer, do we err in our
estimate of happiness! When I hear of a man who
has noble parks, splendid palaces, and every luxury
in life, I always inquire whom he has to love; and
if I find he has nobody, or does not love those he
has-in the midst of all his grandeur, I pronounce
him  a being in deep adversity."]  The passage is
from her Nature cnmd Art; * and Stewart Rose was
But Mr. Rogers (as he frequently did when he quoted) has
considerably altered the passage.  Mrs. Inchbald's words are:"Some persons, I know, estimate happiness by fine houses, gardens,
and parks,-others by pictures, horses, money, and various things
wholly remote from their own species: but when I wish to ascertain the real felicity of any rational man, I always inquire whom he
has to love. If I find he has nobody-or does not love those he has
-even in the midst of all his profusion of finery and grandeur, I
pronounce him  a being in deep adversity." Vol. ii. 84, ed. 1796.
-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        245
so struck with it, that he wrote to ask me where it
was to be found.
I have heard Crabbe describe his mingled feelings of hope and fear as lie stood on London Bridge,
when he first came up to town to try his fortune in
the literary world.
The situation of domestic chaplain in a great
family is generally a miserable one: what slights
and mortifications attend it! Crabbe had had his
share of such troubles in the Duke of Rutland's
family; and I well remember that, at a London
evening party, where the old Duchess of Rutland 
was present, he had a violent struggle with his feelings before he could prevail on himself to go up and
pay his respects to her.
Crabbe, after his literary reputation had been
established, was staying for a few days at the Old
H-ummums; but he was known to the people in the
coffee-room and to the waiters merely as "a MlVr.
Crabbe."  One forenoon, when he had gone out, a
gentleman called on him, and, while expressing his
regret at not finding him at home, happened to let
* In her youth a very celebrated beauty. She died in 1831 —ED.




246             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
drop the information that  "Mr. Crabbe was the
celebrated poet."  The next time that Crabbe entered the coffee-room, he was perfectly astonished
at the sensation which he caused; the company
were all eagerness to look at him, the waiters all
officiousness to serve him.
Crabbe's early poetry is by far the best, as to
finish.  The conclusion of The Library is charmingly written;
" Go on, then, son of Vision! still pursue
Thy airy dreams-the world is dreaming too.
Ambition's lofty views, the pomp of state,
The pride of wealth, the splendours of the great,
Stripp'd of their mask, their cares and troubles known,
Are visions far less happy than thy own:
Go on! and, while the sons of care complain,
Be wisely gay and innocently vain;
While serious souls are by their fears undone,
Blow sportive bladders in the beamy sun,
And call them worlds! and bid the greatest show
More radiant colours in their worlds below:
Then, as they break, the slaves of care reprove,
And tell them, Such are all the toys they love."
I asked him why he did not compose his later




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           247
verses with equal care.  He answered, "Because
my reputation is already made."  When he afterwards told me that he never produced more than
forty verses a day, I said that he had better do as I
do,-stint himself to four.
There is a familiarity in some parts of his Tales
which makes one smile; yet it is by no means unpleasing; for example," Letters were sent when franks could be procured,
And when they could not, silence was endured." *
Crabbe used often to repeat with praise this
couplet from Prior's Solomon,t
"Abra was ready ere I called her name.
And though I call'd another, Abra came."
It is somewhere cited by Sir Walter Scott; t and
I apprehend that Crabbe made it known to him.
Other statesmen, besides Sir Robert Peel, have
had very violent things said against them in the
* The Frank Courtship.-ED.
f B. ii.-ED.
t Scott quotes it (not quite correctly) in Rob Roy, vol. iii. 324, ed.
[818.-ED.




248          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
House. Lord North once complained, in a speech,
of the " brutal language  which Colonel Barre had
used towards him.-Colonel Tarleton, not indeed in
the House, but in private among his own party,
said that he was glad to see Fox's legs swelled.
Sir Robert Peel, il one of his communicative
moods, told me that, when he was a boy, his father
used to say to him,'" Bob, you dog, if you are not
prime minister some day, I'll disinherit you."  I
mentioned this to Sir Roobert's sister, Mrs. Dawson,
who assured me that she had often heard her father
use those very words.
It is curious how fashion changes pronunciation.
In my youth everybody said "Lonnon," not London:" Fox said " Lonnon " to the last; and so did
Crowe. The now fashionable pronunciation of several words is to me at least very offensive: " contemplate" is bad enough; but "balcony" malkes me
sick.
When George Colman brought out his Iron
Csest, he had not the civility to offer Godwin a box,




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                249
or even to send him  an order for admission, though
the play was dramatised from  Caleb Williams.  Of
this Godwin spoke with great bitterness.-Godwin
was generally reckoned a disagreeable man; but I
must say that I did not consider him  such.*
Ah, the fate of my old acquaintance, Lady Salisbury!  The very morning of the day on which the
catastrophe occurred, I quitted Hatfield; and I then
shook her by the hand,-that hand which was so
soon to be a cinder. In the evening, after she had
been dressed for dinner, her maid left her to go to
tea.  She was then writing letters; and it is supposed that, having stooped down her head,-for she
was very short-sighted,-the flame of the candle
caught her head-dress. Strange enough, but we had
all remarked the day before, that Lady Salisbury
* One evening at Mr. Rogers's, when Godwin was present, the
conversation turned on novels and romances. The company having
agreed that Don Quixote, Tom Jones, and Gil Blas, were unrivalled
in that species of composition, Mr. Rogers said, "Well, after these,
I go to the sofa" (meaning, "I think that the next best are by Godwin," who happened to be sitting on the sofa). Quite unconscious
of the compliment paid to him, Godwin exclaimed in great surprise,
" What! do you admire The Sofa? " (a licentious novel by the younger
Crebillon).-ED.
11*




250            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
seemed most unusually depressed in spirits!-Her
eyes, as is generally the case with short-sighted persons, were so good, that she could read without spectacles: being very deaf, she would often read when
in company; and, as she was a bad sleeper, she
would sometimes read nearly the whole night.
Lady Salisbury never had any pretensions to
beauty. In her youth she was dancing in a country-dance with the Prince of Wales at a ball given
by the Duchess of Devonshire, when the Prince
suddenly quitted Lady Salisbury, and finished the
dance with the Duchess. This rude behaviour of
his Royal Highness drew  forth some lines from
Captain Morris.
[" Ungallant youth! could royal Edward see,
While Salisbury's Garter decks thy faithless knee,
That thou, false knight! hadst turn'd thy back, and fled
From such a Salisbury as might wake the dead;
Quick from thy treacherous breast her badge he'd tear,
And strip the star that beauty planted there."]
Madame de Stael one day said to me, "H-ow
sorry I am for Campbell! his poverty so unsettles




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.               251
his mind, that he cannot write." I replied, " Why
does he not take the situation of a clerk? he could
then compose verses during his leisure hours."  This
answer was reckoned very cruel both by Madame
de Stael and Mackintosh: but there was really kindness as well as truth in it.  When literature is the
sole business of life, it becomes a drudgery: when
we are able to resort to it only at certain hours, it
is a charming relaxation. In my earlier years I was
a banker's clerk, obliged to be at the desk every
day from  ten till five o'clock; and I never shall forget the delight with which, on returning home, I
used to read and write during the evening.
There are some of Campbell's lyrics which will
never die.  His Pleasures of Hope is no great favourite with me.*   The feeling throughout his Ger* And it was much less so with Wordsworth, who criticised it to
me nearly verbatim as follows; nor could his criticism, I apprehend,
be easily refuted. " Campbell's Pleasures of Hope has been strangely
overrated: its fine words and sounding lines please the generality
of readers, who never stop to ask themselves the meaning of a passage.
The lines,-'Where Andes, giant of the western wave,
With meteor-standard to the winds unfurl'd,
Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world,
are sheer nonsense —nothing more than a poetical indigestion.
What has a giant to do with a star? What is a meteor-standard?




252               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
trude is very  beautiful; and  one line, describing
Gertrude's eyes, is exquisite,-" those eyes,"
" That seem'd to love whate'er they look'd cupon." *
But that poem  has passages which are monstrously
incorrect: can any thing be worse in expression
than-         -
" 0 Love! in such a wilderness as this,
Where transport and security entwine,
Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss,
And here thou art indeed a god divine ""  t
I cannot forgive Goethe for certain things in his
Faust and  Wilhelzm  lteister: the man who appeals
to  the worst part of my nature commits a great
offence.
-but it is useless to inquire what such stuff means. Once, at my
house, Professor Wilson having spoken of those lines with great
admiration, a very sensible and accomplished lady who happened to
be present begged him  to explain to her their meaning. He was
extremely indignant; and, taking down the Pleasures of Hope from
a shelf, read the lines aloud, and declared that they were splendid.' Well, sir,' said the lady,' but what do they mean?' Dashing the book
on the floor, he exclaimed in his broad Scottish accent,' I'll be daumed
if I can tell!' "-ED.
* Part ii. st. 4.-ED.             t Part iii. st. 1.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      253
The talking openly of their own merits is a " magnanimity" peculiar to foreigners. You remember
the angry surprise which Lamartine expresses at
Lady Hester Stanhope's never having heard of him,
-of him, a person so celebrated over all the world!
Lamartine is a man of genius, but very affected.
Talleyrand (when in London) invited me to meet
him, and placed me beside him at dinner. I asked
him, " Are you acquainted with Beranger?" " No;
he wished to be introduced to me, but I declined it."
-"I would go," said I, "a league to see him."
This was nearly all our conversation: he did not
choose to talk. In short, he was so disagreeable,
that, some days after, both Talleyrand and the
Duchess di Dino apologised to me for his ill-breeding.
At present new plays seem hardly to be regarded
as literature; people may go to see them acted, but
no one thinks of reading them. During the run of
Paul Pry, I happened to be at a dinner-party where
every body was talking about it,-that is, about
Liston's performance of the hero. I asked first one
person, then another, and then another, who was the




254          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
author of it? Not a man or woman in the company
knew that it was written by Poole!
When people have had misunderstandings with
each other, and are anxious to be again on good
terms, they ought never to make attempts at reconciliation by means of letters; they should see each
other. Sir Walter Scott quarrelled with Lady Roslin,
in consequence, I believe, of some expressions he had
used about Fox. "If Scott," said she, " instead of
writing to me on the subject, had only paid me a
visit, I must have forgiven him."
There had been for some time a coolness between
Lord Durham and myself; and I was not a little
annoyed to find that I was to sit next him at one
of the Royal Academy dinners: I requested the
stewards to change my place at the table; but it
was too late to make any alteration. We sat down.
Lord Durham took no notice of me. At last I said
to him, " Will your lordship do me the honour of
drinking a glass of wine with me? "  He answered,
" Certainly, on condition that you will come and dine
with me soon."




TABLE-TALK OF' SAMUEL ROGERS.          255
This is not a bad charade: What is it that causes
a cold, cures a cold, and pays the doctor? A draft.
I hope to read Ariosto through once more before
I die, if not in the original, in Harrington's translation, which in some parts is very well done; in one
part,-the story of Jocondo,-admirably.
Rose's version is so bald,* that it wearies me. I
read the whole of it, by Rose's desire, in the proof
sheets.-At one time Rose gave himself up so entirely to Italian, that he declared' he felt some difficulty in using his native language."
Once, when Rose complained to me of being unhappy "from the recollection of having done many
things which he wished he had not done," I comforted him by replying, " I know that during your
life you have done many kind and generous things;
but them  you have forgotten, because a man's good
deeds fade away from his memory, while those which
acre the reverse keep constanotly recurring to it."
* Rose's version of Ariosto is sometimes rather flat; but surely it
is, on the whole, far superior to any other English one. The brilliancy
and the airy grace of the original are almost beyond the reach of a
translator.-ED.




256          RECOLLECTIONS OF TIE
He was in a sad state of mental imbecility shortly
before his death. When people attempted to enter
into conversation with him, he would continue to
ask them two questions, —'When did Sir Walter
Scott die? " and " How is Lord Holland? " (who was
already dead.) But I, aware that no subject is so
exciting to an author as that of his own writings,
spoke to Rose about his various publications; and,
for a while, he talked of them rationally enough.Partenopex of Blois is his best work.
Lord Grenvjlle has more than once said to me at
Dropmore, " What a frightful mistake it was to send
such a person as Lord Castlereagh to the Congress of
Vienna! a man who was so ignorant, that he did not
know the map of Europe; and who could be won
over to make any concessions by only being asked
to breakfast with the Emperor."
Castlereagh's education had been sadly neglected; but he possessed considerable talents, and was
very amiable.
I have read Gilpin's Life of Cranmmer several




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       257
times through. What an interesting account he
gives of the manner in which Cranmer passed the
day!-I often repeat a part of Cranmer's prayer at
the stake-" O blessed Redeemer, who assumed not
a mortal shape for small offences, who died not to
atonefor venic a sfins,"l & &c.
I don't call _Robinson Crusoe and Gulliver's
Travels "novels:" they stand quite unrivalled for
invention among all prose fictions.
When I was at Banbury, I happened to observe
in the churchyard several inscriptions to the memory of persons named Gulliver; and, on my return
home, looking into Gulliver's Trcvels, I found, to
my surprise, that the said inscriptions are mentioned
there as a confirmation of Mr. Gulliver's statement
that " his family came from Oxfordshire."
I am not sure that I would not rather have written Manzoni's Promnessi Sposi than all Scott's novels.
Manzoni's mother was a daughter of the famous
Beccaria; and I remember seeing her about sixty
* P. 211.




258               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
years ago at the house of the father of the Misses
Berry: she was a very lively agreeable woman.
Bowles, like most other poets, was greatly depressed by the harsh criticisms of the reviewers. I
advised him  not to mind them; and, eventually following my advice, he became a much happier man.
I suggested to him  the subject of The Miissionary;
and  he was to dedicate it to me.  He, however,
dedicated it to a noble lord, who never, either by
word or letter, acknowledged the dedication.
Bowles's nervous timidity is * the most ridiculous
thing imaginable. Being passionately fond of music,
* Wordsworth, Mrs. Wordsworth, their daughter, and Bowles, went
upon the Thames in a boat, one fine summer's day. Though the
water was smooth as glass, Bowles very soon became so alarmed, that
he insisted on being set ashore; upon which Wordsworth said to him,
"Your confessing your cowardice is the most striking instance of
valour that I ever met with."  This was told to me by Wordsworth
himself.-What follows is from my Memoranda of Wordsworth's conversation. "When Bowles's Sonnets first appeared,-a thin 4to pamphlet, entitled Fourteen Sonnets,-I bought them in a walk through
London with my dear brother, who was afterwards drowned at sea.
I read them as we went along; and to the great annoyance of my
brother, I stopped in a niche of London Bridge to finish the pamphlet.
Bowles's short pieces are his best: his long poems are rather faccid."
-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.        259
he came to London expressly to attend the last commemoration of Handel. After going into the Abbey,
he observed that the door was closed: immediately
he ran to the doorkeeper, exclaiming, " What! am
I to be shtt up here?" and out he went, before he
had heard a single note. I once bought a stall-ticket
for him, that he might accompany me to the Opera;
but, just as we were stepping into the carriage, he
said, "Dear me, your horses seem  uncommonly
frisky;" and he stayed at home.
" I never," said he, " had but one watch; and I
lost it the very first day I wore it."  Mrs. Bowles
whispered to me, " And if he got another to-day, he
would lose it as quickly."
Maj or Price* was a great favourite with George
the Third, and ventured to say any thing to him.
They were walking together in the grounds at Windsor Castle, when the following dialogue took place.
" I shall certainly," said the King, " order this tree
to be cut down."' If it is cut down, your majesty
will have destroyed the finest tree about the Castle."
* Brother to Sir Uvedale Price, and for many years vice-chamberlain to Queen Charlotte.-ED.




260           RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
— "Really, it is surprising that people constantly
oppose my wishes."  " Permit me to observe, that
if your majesty will not allow people to speak, you
will never hear the truth."  "~ Well, Price, I believe
you are right."
When the Duke of Clarence (William the Fourth)
was a very young man, he happened to be dining
at the Equerries' table. Among the company was
MVajor Price. The Duke told one of his facetious
stories.  " Excellent! "9 said Price; " I wish I could
believe it."  "If you say that again, Price," cried
the Duke, " I'll send this claret at your head." Price
did say it again. Accordingly the claret cameand it was returned.  I had this from  Lord St.
Helens, who was one of the party.
Once, when in company with William the Fourth,
I quite forgot that it is against all etiquette to ask a
sovereign about his health; and, on his saying to
me, "1Mr. Rogers, I hope you are well," I replied,
" Very well, I thank your maj esty: Itrust that your'mcajesty is quite well also."  Never was a king in
greater confusion; he didn't know where to look,
and  stammered  out, "Yes —yes —only a little
rheumatism."




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      261
I have several times breakfasted with the Princesses at Buckingham House. The Queen (Charlotte) always breakfasted with the King: but she
would join us afterwards, and read the newspapers
to us or converse very agreeably.
Dining one day with the Princess of Wales
(Queen Caroline), I heard her say that on her first
arrival in this country, she could speak only one
word of English. Soon after, I mentioned that circurmstance to a large party; and a discussion arose
what English word would be most useful for a person to know, supposing that person's knowledge
of the language must be limited to a single word.
The greater number of the company fixed on "Yes."
But Lady Charlotte Lindsay said that she should
prefer " No;" because, though' Yes," never meant
No," —"  No" very often meant  Yes."
The Princess was very good-natured and agreeable. She once sent to me at four o'clock in the
afternoon, to say that she was coming to sup with
me that night. I returned word, that I should feel
highly honoured by her coming, but that unfortu



262          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
nately it was too late to make up a party to meet
her. She came, however, bringing with her Sir
William Drummond.
One night, after dining with her at Kensington
Palace, I was sitting in the carriage, waiting for Sir
Henry Englefield to accompany me to town, when a
sentinel, at about twenty yards' distance from me,
was struck dead by a flash of lightning. I never
beheld any thing like that flash: it was a body of
flame, in the centre of which were quivering zigzag
fires, such as artists put into the hand of Jupiter;
and, after being visible for a moment, it seemed to
explode. I immediately returned to the hall of the
Palace, where I found the servants standing in terror, with their faces against the wall.
I was to dine on a certain day with the Princess
of Wales at Kensington, and, thinking that Ward
(Lord Dudley) was to be of the party, I wrote to
him, proposing that we should go together. His
answer was, " Dear Rogers, I am not invited. The
fact is, when I dined there last, I made several rather
free jokes; and the Princess, taking me perhaps for
a clergyman, has not asked me back again."
One night, at Kensington, I had the Princess for




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      263
my partner in a country-dance of fourteen couple.
I exerted myself to the utmost; but not quite to
her satisfaction, for she kept calling out to me,
" Vite, vite! "
She was fond of going to public places incog.
One forenoon, she sent me a note to say that she
wished me to accompany her that evening to the
theatre; but I had an engagement which I did not
choose to give up, and declined accompanying her.
She took offence at this; and our intercourse was
broken off till we met in Italy. I was at an inn
about a stage from Milan, when I saw Queen Caroline's carriages in the court-yard. I kept myself
quite close, and drew down the blinds of the sitting
room: but the good-natured Queen found out that
I was there, and, coming to my window, knocked on
it with her knuckles. In a moment we were the
best friends possible; and there, as afterwards in
other parts of Italy, I dined and spent the day with
her. Indeed, I once travelled during a whole night
in the same carriage with her and Lady Charlotte
Campbell; when the shortness of her majesty's legs
not allowing her to rest them on the seat opposite,
she wheeled herself round, and very coolly placed




264               RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
them  on the lap of Lady Charlotte, who was sitting
next to her.
I remember Brighton before the Pavilion was
built; and in those days I have seen the Prince of
Wales drinking tea in  a public room   of what was
then. the chief inn, just as other people did.
At a great party given by Henry Hope in Cavendish Square, Lady Jersey * said  she had something
particular to tell me; so, not to be interrupted, we
went into  the gallery.  As we were walking along
it, we met the Prince of Wales, who, on seeing Lady
Jersey, stopped for a moment, and then, drawing
himself up, marched past her with  a look  of the
* " The Prince one day said to Colonel Willis,' I am determined
to break off my intimacy with Lady Jersey; and you must deliver
the letter which announces to her my determination.' When Willis
put it into Lady Jersey's hand, she said, before opening it,' You have
brought me a gilded dagger.'-Willis was on such familiar terms with
the Prince, that he ventured to give his advice about his conduct.'If your royal highness,' he said,'would only show yourself at the
theatre or in the park, in company with the Princess, two or three
times a year, the public would be quite content, and would not trouble
themselves about your domestic proceedings.' The Prince replied,'Really, Willis, with the exception of Lord Moira, nobody ever presumed to speak to me as you do.' The Prince was anxious to get rid
of Lord Moira; and hence his lordship's splendid banishment.-These
anecdotes were told to me by Willis."-Mr. MALTBY (see notice prefixed to the Porsoniana in this volume).-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.      265
utmost disdain. Lady Jersey returned the look to
the full; and, as soon as the Prince was gone, said
to me with a smile, " Didn't I do it well? "-I was
taking a drive with Lady Jersey in her carriage,
when I expressed (with great sincerity) my regret
at being unmarried, saying that "if I had a wife,
I should have somebody to care about me."   Pray,
Mr. Rogers," said Lady J., " how could you be sure
that your wife would not care more about somebody
else tkan about you? "
I was staying at Lord Bathurst's, when he had
to communicate to the Prince Regent the death of
the Princess Charlotte.  The circumstances were
these. Lord Bathurst was suddenly roused in the
middle of the night by the arrival of the messenger
to inform him that the Princess was dead. After a
short consultation with his family, Lord Bathurst
went to the Duke of York; and his royal highness
having immediately dressed himself, they proceeded
together to Carlton House. On reaching it, they
asked to see Sir Benjamin Bloomfield; and telling
him what had occurred, they begged him to convey
the melancholy tidings to the Prince Regent. He
firmly refused to do so. They then begged Sir Ben



266          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
jamin to inform the Prince that they requested to
see him on a matter of great importance. A message
was brought back by Sir Benjamin, that the Prince
already knew all they had to tell him,-viz. that the
Princess had been delivered, and that the child was
dead,-and that he declined seeing them at present.
They again, by means of Sir Benjamin, urged their
request; and were at last admitted into the Prince's
chamber. He was sitting up in bed; and, as soon
as they entered, he repeated what he had previously
said by message,-that he already knew all they had
to tell him, &c. Lord Bathurst then communicated
the fatal result of the Princess's confinement. On
hearing it, the Prince Regent struck his forehead
violently with both his hands, and fell forward into
the arms of the Duke of York. Among other exclamations which this intelligence drew from him,
was, "Oh, what will become of that poor man
(Prince Leopold)! "-Yet, only six or seven hours
had elapsed, when he was busily arranging all the
pageantry for his daughter's funeral.
The Duchess of Buckingham told me that, when
George the Fourth slept at Stowe in the state bedchamber (which has a good deal of ebony furniture),




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.     267
it was lighted up with a vast number of wax candies, which were kept burning the whole night.Nobody, I imagine, except a king, has any liking
for a state bedchamber. I was at Cassiobury with
a large party, when a gentleman arrived, to whom
Lord Essex said, " I must put you into the state
bedroom, as it is the only one unoccupied."  The
gentleman, rather than sleep in it, took up his quarters at the inn.
No one had more influence over George the
Fourth than Sir William Knighton. Lawrence (the
painter) told me that he was once dining at the
palace when the King said to Knighton that he was
resolved to discharge a particular attendant immediately. " Sir," replied Knighton, " he is an excellent servant."-" I am  determined to discharge
him," said the King. " Sir," replied Knighton, "he
is an excellent servant." —"Well, well," said the
King, " let him remain till I think further of it."Speaking of Knighton to an intimate friend, George
the Fourth remarked, " My obligations to Sir William Knighton are greater than to any man alive:
he has arranged all my accounts, and brought perfect order out of chaos."




268          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
One day when George the Fourth was talking
about his youthful exploits, he mentioned, with particular satisfaction, that he had made a body of
troops charge down the Devil's Dyke (near Brighton). Upon which the Duke of Wellington merely
observed to him, "Very steep, sir."
I was told by the Duchess Countess of Sutherland what Sir Henry Halford had told her,-that,
when George the Fourth was very near his end, he
said to him, " Pray, Sir Henry, keep these women
from me" (alluding to certain ladies).
I'll tell you an anecdote of Napoleon, which I
had from Talleyrand.'Napoleon," said T.,'was
at Boulogne with the Army of England, when he
received intelligence that the Austrians, under
Mack, were at Ulm.'If it had been mine to place
them,' exclaimed Napoleon,'I should have placed
them there."  In a moment the army was on the
march, and he at Paris. I attended him to Strasburg.
We were there at the house of the Prefet, and no
one in the room but ourselves, when Napoleon was
suddenly seized with a fit, foaming at the mouth;




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           269
he cried' Fermez la porte!' and then lay senseless
on the floor. I bolted the door. Presently, Berthier
knocked.' On ne pent pas entrer.'  Afterwards,
the Empress knocked; to whom  I addressed the
same words.  Now, what a situation would mine
have been, if Napoleon had died! But he recovered
in about half an hour. Next morning, by daybreak,
he was in his carriage; and within sixty hours the
Austrian army had capitulated."
I repeated the anecdote to Lucien Buonaparte,*
who listened with great sang froid. " Did you ever
hear this before?"  Never: but many great men
have been subject to fits; for instance, Julius Cwesar.
My brother, on another occasion, had an attack of
the same kind; but that" (and he smiled) "was
after being defeated." t
On my asking Talleyrand if Napoleon was really
married to Josephine, he replied, "Pas tout-a-fait."
I asked him which was the best portrait of Na* Mr. Rogers was very intimate with Lucien, and liked him much;
yet he could not resist occasionally laughing at some things in his
Charlemagne; for instance, at,"L'ange maudit admire et contemple Judas."
c. ix. 87.-ED.
t An allusion to an adventure with an actress.-ED.




270          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
poleon. He said, "that which represents him at
Malmaison: it is by Isabey. The marble bust of
Napoleon by Canova, which I gave to A. Baring,
is an excellent likeness."
-"Did Napoleon shave himself?"  I inquired.
"Yes," answered Talleyrand, " but very slowly, and
conversing during the operation. He used to say
that kings by birth were shaved by others, but that
he who has made himself Roi shaves himself."
To my question-whether the despatch which
Napoleon published on his retreat from  Moscow
was written by Napoleon himself,-Talleyrand replied, "By himself, certainly."
Dr. Lawrence assured me that Burke shortened
his life by the frequent use of emetics, — he was
always tickling his throat with a feather." He
complained of an oppression at his chest, which he
fancied emetics would remove.
Malone (than whom no one was more intimate
with Burke) persisted to the last in saying that, if
Jutnius's Letters were not written by Burke, they
were at least written by some person who had re



TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            271
ceived great assistance from  Burke in composing
them; and he was strongly inclined to fix the authorship of them upon Dyer.*  Burke had a great
friendship for Dyer, whom  he considered to be a
man of transcendent abilities; and it was reported,
that, upon Dyer's death, Burke secured and suppressed all the papers which he had left behind him.
I once dined at Dilly's in company with Woodfall, who then declared in the most positive terms
that he did not know who Junius was.
A story appeared in the newspapers that an unknown individual had died at Marlborough, and that,
in consequence of his desire expressed just before
his death, the word Junius had been placed over his
grave. Now, Sir James Mackintosh and I, happening to be at Marlborough, resolved to inquire into
the truth of this story. We accordingly went into
the shop of a bookseller, a respectable-looking old
man with a velvet cap, and asked him what he knew
* Samuel Dyer. See an account of him in Malone's Life of
Dryden, p. 181, where he is mentioned as " a man of excellent taste
and profound erudition; whose principal literary wor, under a Roman
signature, when the veil with which for near thirty-one years it has
been enveloped shall be removed, will place him in a high rank among
English writers, and transmit a name, now little known, with distinguished lustre to posterity."-ED.




272             RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
about it.  "I have heard," said he, "that a person
was buried here with that inscription on his grave;
but I have not seen it."   He then called out to his
daughter, " What do you know about it, Nan? "    I
have heard," replied Nan,   that there is such  a
grave; but I have not seen it." We next applied to
the sexton; and his answer was, " I have heard of
such a grave; but I have not seen it."  Nor did we
see it, you may be sure, though we took the trouble
of going into the churchyard.*
My own impression is, that the Ietters of Junizus
were written by Sir Philip Francis. In a speech,
which I once heard him  deliver, at the Mansion
House, concerning the Partition of Poland, I had a
striking proof that Francis possessed no ordinary
powers of eloquence.
I was one day conversing with Lady Holland in
* A friend observed to me,-" Mr. Rogers and Sir James should
have gone, not to Marlborough, but to Hungerford; and there they
would have found a tomb with this inscription, Stat ominis umbra;
which is the motto of Junius; and hence the tomb is called Junius's
tomb." I mentioned this to Mr. Rogers, who said, "It may be so;
but what I told you about our inquiries at Marlborough is fact; and
a good story it is.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.              273
her dressing-room, when  Sir Philip  Francis was
announced.  " Now," she said, " I will ask him  if
he is Junius." I was about to withdraw; but she
insisted on my staying. Sir Philip entered, and,
soon after he was seated, she put the question to
him.  His answer was,  "MIadam, do you mean to
insult me    ~ "-and he went on to say, that when he
was a younger man, people would not have ventured
to charge him with being the author of those Letters.*
When Lady Holland wanted to get rid of a fop,
she used to say, "I beg your pardon,-but I wish
you would sit a little further off; there is something
on your handkerchief which I don't quite like.'
When any gentleman, to her great annoyance,
was standing with his back close to the chimneypiece, she would call out, "Have the goodness, sir,
to stir the fire! 
* The following notice must be referred, I presume, to an
earlier occasion.'" Brougham was by when Francis made the oftenquoted answer to Rogers —' There is a question, Sir Philip (said R.),
which I should much like to ask, if you will allow me.''You had
better not, sir (answered Francis); you may have reason to be sorry
for it (or repent of it).' The addition [by the newspapers] to this
story is, that Rogers, on leaving him, muttered to himself,'If he is
Junius, it must be Junius Brutus." Moore's Meemoirs, &c. vol. vi. 66.
-ED.




2T4          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Ier delight was to conquer all difficulties that
might oppose her will. Near Tunbridge there is
(at least, there was) a house which no stranger was
allowed to see. Lady Holland never ceased till she
got permission to inspect it; and through it she
marched in triumph, taking a train of people with
her, even her maid.
When she and Lord Holland were at Naples,
Murat and his Queen used to have certain evenings
appointed for receiving persons of distinction.
Lady Holland would not go to those royal parties.
At last Murat, who was always anxious to conciliate
the English government, gave a concert expressly
in honour of Lady Holland; and she had the gratification of sitting, at that concert, between Murat
and the Queen, when, no doubt, she applied to them
her screw,-that is, she fairly asked them  about
every thing which she wished to know.-By the by,
Murat and his Queen were extremely civil to me.
The Queen once talked to me about The Pleasures
of Vemory. I often met Murat when he was on
horseback, and he would invariably call out to me,
rising in his stirrups, "H6 bien, Monsieur, etesvous inspire aLujourdhui?"




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.           275
Lord Holland never ventured to ask any one to
dinner (not even me, whom he had known so long
and so intimately) without previously consulting
Lady H.  Shortly before his death, I called at Holland House, and found only Lady H. within.  As
I was coming out, I met Lord Holland, who said,
" Well, do you return to dinner?"  I answered,'" No; I have not been invited."  Perhaps this deference to Lady IH. was not to be regretted; for
Lord Holland was so hospitable and good-natured,
that, had he been left to himself, he would have had
a crowd at his table daily.
What a disgusting thing is the fagging at our
great schools! When Lord Holland was a schoolboy, he was forced, as a fag, to toast bread with his
i7ngers for the breakfast of another boy. Lord H.'s
mother sent him a toasting-fork. His fagger broke
it over his head, and still compelled him to prepare
the toast in the old way. In consequence of this
* Lady Holland was not among Mr. Rogers's earliest acquaintances in the great world.-Mr. Richard Sharp once said to him,
"When do you mean to give up the society of Lady Jersey? " Mr.
Rogers replied, "When you give up that of Lady Holland,"-little
thinking then that she was eventually to be one of his own most intimate friends.-ED.




276            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
process his fingers suffered so much that they always
retained a withered appearance.
Lord Holland persisted in saying that pictures
gave him more pain than pleasure.  He also hated
music; yet, in some respects, he had a very good
ear, for he was a capital mimic.
What a pity it is that Luttrell gives up nearly
his whole time to persons of mere fashion! Every
thing that he has written is very clever.* Are you
acquainted with his epigram  on Miss Tree (Mrs.
Bradshaw)? it is quite a little fairy tale:" On this tree when a nightingale settles and sings,
The tree will return her as good as she brings."
Luttrell is indeed a most pleasant companion.
None of the talkers whom I meet in London society
can slide in a brilliant thing with such readiness as
he does.
I was one day not a little surprised at being told
by Moore that in consequence of the article on his
* See his Letters to Julia and Crockford House.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.            2TT
Poems in Tihe Edinburgh Revieew,* he had called out
Jeffrey, who at that time was in London. He asked
me to lend him a pair of pistols: I said, and truly,
that I had none.t  Moore then went to William
Spencer to borrow pistols, and to talk to him about
the duel; and Spencer, who was delighted with this
confidence, did not fail to blab the matter to Lord
Fincastle, t and also, I believe, to some women of
rank. I was at Spencer's house in the forenoon,
anxious to learn the issue of the duel, when a messenger arrived with  the tidings that Moore and
Jeffrey were in custody, and with a request from
Moore that Spencer would bail him.  Spencer did
not seem much inclined to do so, remarking that
"he could not well go out, for it was alrecady twelve
o'clock and he had to be dressed by four "  So I
went to Bow Street and bailed Moore. ~  The ques* Vol. viii. 456.-ED.
1 "William Spencer being the lon one of all nmyfriends whom I
thought likely to furnish me with these sine-qua-nons [pistols], I
hastened to confide to him my wants," &c. Moore's Mgemoirs, &c.
vol. i. 202. But Moore's recollection of the particulars connected
with the duel was somewhat imperfect: see the next note but one.
-ED.
t Afterwards Lord Dunmore.-ED.
~ "Though I had sent for William Spencer, I am not quite sure




278            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
tion now was, whether Moore and Jeffrey should
fight or not.  I secretly consulted General Fitzpatrick, who gave it as his decided opinion that
" Mr. Jeffrey was not called upon to accept a second
challenge," insinuating, of course, that Moore was
bound to send one. I took care not to divulge what
the General had said: and the poet and critic were
eventually reconciled by means of HIorner and myself: they shook hands with each other in the garden
behind my house.
So heartily has Moore repented of having published Zittle's Poems, that I have seen him  shed
tears —tears of deep  contrition-when we were
talking of them.
Young ladies read his Lacila Rookh without being
aware (I presume) of the grossness of T[he Veiled
Prophet.  These lines by Mr. Sneyd are amusing
enough:
c Lalla Rookh
Is a naughty book
By Tommy Moore,
Who has written four,
that it was he that acted as my bail, or whether it was not Rogers
that so officiated. I am, however, certain that the latter joined us at
the office," &c. Moore's Memoirs, &c. vol. i. 205 —ED.




TABLE-TALK  OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 279
Each warmer
Than the former,
So the most recent
Is the least decent."
Moore borrowed from me Lord Thurlow's Poems,
and forthwith wrote that ill-natured article on them
in The Edinburgh Review.*  It made me angry; for
Lord Thurlow, with  all his eccentricity, was a man
of genius: but the public chose to laugh at him, and
Moore, who always follows the world's opinion, of
course did so too.  I like Lord Thurlow's verses on
Sidney.t
* Vol. xxiii. 411.-ED.
f I know not which of Lord Thurlow's pieces on Sidney (for there
are several) was alluded to by Mr. Rogers.  One of them is,-On
beholding the portraiture of Sir Philip Sidney in the gallery at Penshurst;
" The man that looks, sweet Sidney, in thy face,
Beholding there love's truest majesty,
And the soft image of departed grace,
Shall fill his mind with magnanimity:
There may he read unfeign'd humility,
And golden pity, horn of heavenly brood,
Unsullied thoughts of immortality,
And musing virtue, prodigal of blood:
Yes, in this map of what is fair and good,
This glorious index of a heavenly book,
Not seldom, as in youthful years he stood,
Divinest Spenser would admiring look;




280            RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
Moore once said to mne, "I am nluch fonder of
reading works in prose than in verse." I replied,
" I should have known so from your writings;" and
I meant the words as a compliment-his best poems
are quite original.
Moore is a very worthy man, but not a little improvident. His excellent wife contrives to maintain
the whole family on a guinea a-week; and he, when
in London, thinks nothing of throwing away that
sun weekly on hackney-coaches and gloves. I said
to himn, " You must have made ten thousand pounds
by your musical publications."  He replied, " More
than that."  In short, he has received for his various
works nearly thirty thousand pounds. When, owing
to the state of his affairs, he found it necessary to
retire for a while, I advised him to make Holyrood
House his refuge: there he could have lived cheaply
and comfortably, with permission to walk about unmolested every Sunday, when he might have dined
with Walter Scott or Jeffrey.  But he would go to
And, framing thence high wit and pure desire,
Imagin'd deeds that set the world on fire."Let me add, that Lord Thurlow's sonnet To a bird that haunted the
waters of Laken in the winter was a favourite with Charles Lamb.ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.                 281
Paris;  and  there he  spent about a  thousand  ayear.
At the time  when Moore was struggling with
his grief for the loss of his children, he said to me,
" What a wonderful man that Shakespeare is! how
perfectly I now feel the truth of his words,"And if I laugh at any mortal thing,'Tis that I may not weep!"
I happened to repeat to Mrs. N. what Moore had
said; upon which she observed, " Why, the passage
is not Shakespeare's, but Byron's." And sure enough
we found it in Don JTcan.*  Another lady, who was
present, having declared that she did not understand
it, I said,' I will give you an illustration of it.  A
friend  of mine  was chiding  his daughter.   She
laughed.' Now,' continued the father,' you make
* C. iv. 4. (Moore had forgotten that he had quoted the passage
as Byron's in his Life of Byron).-Richardson had said the same thing
long ago: —" Indeed, it is to this deep concern that my levity is
owing: for I struggle and struggle, and try to buffet down my cruel
reflections as they rise; and when I cannot, I anm forced, as I have
often said, to try to mace myself laugh, that I may not cry; for one or
other I must do: and is it not philosophy carried to the highest pitch,
for a man to conquer such tumults of soul as I am sometimes agitated
by, and, in the very height of the storm, to be able to quaver out an
horse-laugh?"  Clarissa Harlowe, Letter 84, vol. vii. 319.-ED.




282            RECOLLECTIONS OF TIHE
matters worse by laughing.' She then burst into
tears, exclaiming,' If I do not laugh, I must cry.' 
Mloore has now taken to an amusement which is
very well suited to the fifth act of life;-hle plays
cribbage every night with Mrs. Moore.
In the   emnoir of Cary by his soil, Coleridge is
said to have first become acquainted with Cary's
Dcante when he met the translator at Little Hampton. But that is a mistake.  Moore mentioned the
work to me with great admiration; I mentioned it
to Wordsworth; * and he to Coleridge, who had
never heard of it till then, and who forthwith read it.
I was present at that lecture by Coleridge, during which he spoke of Cary's Dante in high terms
of praise: there were about a hundred and twenty
persons in the room.  But I doubt if that did much
towards making it known.  It owes some of its celebrity to me; for the article on Dante in Thie Edinburgh Review,t which was written by Foscolo, has
very considerable additions by Mackintosh, and a
* Wordsworth once remarked to me, " It is a disgrace to the age
that Cary has no church-preferment; I think his translation of Dante
a great national work."-ED.
t Vol. xxix. 453.-ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.              283
few  by myself.  Cary was aware (though his biographer evidently is not) that I had written a portion of that article; yet he never mentioned it to
me: perhaps there was something in it which he
did not like.
On the resignation of Baber, chief librarian at
the British Museum, I wrote a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, urging Cary's claim to fill the
vacant place.   The Archbishop replied, that his
only reason for not giving Cary his vote was the
unfortunate circumstance of Cary's having been
more than once, in consequence of domestic calamities, afflicted with temporary alienation of mind. t
I had quite forgotten this; and I immediately wrote
again to the Archbishop, saying that I now agreed
with him concerning Cary's unfitness for the situation. - I also, as delicately as I could, touched on
the subject to Cary himself, telling him that the
place was not suited for him.
Z Cary, as assistant-librarian, stood next in succession.-ED.
f It appears, however, from the Memoir of Cary by his son (vol.
ii. 285), that afterwards, the Archbishop, in consequence of a medical
certificate of Cary's fitness for the office, was desirous that he should
be appointed, " but could not prevail on his co-trustees to concur with
him."-ED.




284          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
After another gentleman had been appointed
Baber's successor, the trustees of the Museum recommended Cary to the Government for a pension,
-which they seemed resolved not to grant; and I
made more than one earnest application to them
in his behalf. At last Lord Melbourne sent Lord
E. to me with a message that " there was very little
money to dispose of, but that Cary should have 1001.
per annum." I replied that " it was so small a sum,
that I did not choose to mention the offer to Cary;
and that, as soon as Sir Robert Peel came into
office, I should apply to him for a larger sum, with
confident hopes of better success."  Lord Melbourne then let me know that Cary should have
2001. a-year; which I accepted for him.
Cary never forgave me for my conduct in the
Museum business; and never afterwards called upon
me. But I met him one day in the Park, when he
said (much to his credit, considering his decided
political opinions) that "he was better pleased to
receive 2001. a-year from Lord Melbourne than
double the sum from Sir Robert Peel."




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       285
Visiting Lady      one day, I made inquiries
about her sister. " She is now staying with me,"
answered Lady, " but she is unwell in consequence of a fright which she got on her way fron
Richmond to London."  At that time omnibuses
were great rarities; and while Miss   - was coming to town, the footman, observing an omnibus
approach, and thinking that she might like to see it,
suddenly called in at the carriage-window, "Ma'am,
the omnibus!  Miss —, being unacquainted with
the term, and not sure but an omrnibus might be a
wild beast escaped from the Zoological Gardens,
was thrown into a dreadful state of agitation by the
announcement.
I think Sheridan Knowles by far the best writer
of plays since those whom we call our old dramatists.
-Macready's performance of Tell (in Knowles's
William Tell) is first-rate. No actor ever affected
me more than Macready did in some scenes of that
play.
Words cannot do justice to Theodore Hook's
talent for improvisation: it was perfectly wonderful.




286          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
He was one day sitting at the pianoforte, singing an
extempore song as fluently as if he had had the
words and music before him, when Moore happened
to look into the room, and Hook instantly introduced a long parenthesis,
"And here's Mr. Moore,
Peeping in at the door, &c."The last time I saw Hook was in the lobby of Lord
Canterbury's house after a large evening party there.
He was walking up and down, singing with great
gravity, to the astonishment of the footmen, " Shepherds, I have lost my hat."
When Erskine was made Lord Chancellor, Lady
Holland never rested till she prevailed on him to
give Sidney Smith a living.* Smith went to thank
him  for the appointment.  "Oh," said Erskine,
"don't thank me, Mr. Smith. I gave you the living
because Lady Holland insisted on my doing so:
and if she had desired me to give it to the devil, he
must have had it."
* The living of Foston-le-Clay in Yorkshire. —ED.




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.         28s
At one time, when I gave a dinner, I used to
have candles placed all round the dining-room, and
high up, in order to show off the pictures. I asked
Smith how he liked that plan.  " Not at all," he
replied; " above, there is a blaze of light, and below,
nothing but darkness and gnashing of teeth."
He said that -        was so fond of contradiction,
that he would throw up the window in the middle
of the night, and contradict the watchman who was
calling the hour.
When his physician advised him to " take a walk
upon an empty stomach," Smith asked, " Upon
whose  "
" Lady Cork," said Smith, "was once so moved
by a charity sermon, that she begged me to lend her
a guinea for her contribution. I did so. She never
repaid me, and spent it on herself."
He said that " is idea of heaven was eating fois
gras to the sound of trumpets." *
" I had a very odd dream last night," said he;
"I dreamed that there were thirty-nine Muses and
* It must not be supposed from this and other such-like quaint
fancies, in which he occasionally indulged, that Smith's wit had any
mixture of profaneness: —he certainly never intended to treat sacred
things with levity. —ED.




288          RECOLLECTIONS OF THE
nine Articles: and my head is still quite confused
about them."
Smith said, "The Bishop of          is so like
Judas, that I now firmly believe in the Apostolical
Succession."
Witty as Smith was, I have seen him  at my
own house absolutely overpowered by the superior
facetiousness of William Bankes.
Speaking to me of Buonaparte, the Duke of
Wellington remarked, that in one respect he was
superior to all the generals who had ever existed.
"Was it," I asked, "in the management and skilful
arrangement of his troops?  " No," answered the
Duke; "it was in his power of concentrating such
vast masses of men-a most important point in the
art of war."
" I have found," said the Duke, "that raw troops,
however inferior to the old ones in manceuvring, are
far superior to them in downright hard fighting with
the enemy: at Waterloo, the young ensigns and
lieutenants, who had never before seen a battle,
rushed to meet death as if they had been playing at
cricket."




TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.       289
The Duke thinks very highly of Napier's Ristory:
its only fault, he says, is —that Napier is sometimes
apt to convince himself that a thing must be true,
because he wishes to believe it. Of Southey's History
he merely said,' I don't think much of it."
Of the Duke's perfect coolness on the most trying occasions, Colonel Gurwood gave me this in
stance. He was once in great danger of being
drowned at sea. It was bed-time, when the captain
of the vessel came to him, and said, "It will soon
be all over with us."  "Very well," answered the
Duke, " then I shall not take off my boots."
Some years ago, walking with the Duke in Hyde
Park, I observed, "What a powerful band Lord
John Russell will have to contend with! there's Peel,
Lord Stanley, Sir James Graham," &c. The Duke
interrupted me by saying, " Lord John Russell is a
host in himself."-It is mainly to the noble consistency of his whole career that Lord John owes the
high place which he holds in the estimation of the
people.
The Duke says that the Lord's Prayer alone is
an evidence of the truth of Christianity-so admirably is that prayer accommodated to all our wants.
13




290      TABLE-TAILK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.
I took the Sacrament with the Duke at Strathfieldsaye; and nothing could be more striking than his
unaffected devotion.
When I was at Paris, I went to Alexis, and desired him to describe to me my house in St. James's
Place. On my word, he astonished me! He described most exactly the peculiarities of the staircase —said that not far from the window in the
drawing-room  there was a picture of a man in
armour (the painting by Giorgone), &c. &c.
Colonel Gurwood, shortly before his death, assured me that he was reminded by Alexis of some
circumstances which had happened to him in Spain,
and which he could not conceive how any human
being, except himself, should know.
Still, I cannot believe in clairvoyance-because
the thing is iTpossible.




PORSONIANA.








THE following anecdotes of Porson* were communicated
to me, in conversation, at various times, by the late Mr.
William  Maltby,-the schoolfellow, and, throughout life,
the most confidential friend of Mr. Rogers.
In his youth Mr. Maltby was entered at Cambridge,
and resided there for some time: he, however, left the
university without taking a degree.  He afterwards practised as a solicitor in London. On the decease of Porson,
he obtained an employment more suited to his tastes and
habits than the profession of the law:-in 1809 he succeeded that celebrated man as Principal Librarian to the
London Institution; and, during the long period of his
holding the office, he greatly improved the library by the
numerous judicious purchases which were made at his
* Notices of Porson have already occurred in this volume: see pp.
79, 134, 217, 218, 219.-ED.




294
suggestion.  In 1834 he was superannuated from  all
duty: but he still continued to occupy apartments in the
Institution; and there he died, towards the close of his
ninetieth year, January 5th, 1854.
In Greek and Latin Mr. Maltby was what is called a
fair scholar: he was well read in Italian; his acquaintance
with French and English literature was most extensive and
accurate; in a knowledge of bibliography he has been
surpassed by few: and the wonder was (as Mr. Rogers
used frequently to observe) that, with all his devotion to
study, and with all his admiration of the makers of books,
he should never have come before the public in the character of an author.
EDITOR.




PORSONIANA.
I FIRST saw Porson at the sale of Toup's library in
1T84, and was introduced to him soon after. I was
on the most intimate terms with him for the last
twenty years of his life. In spite of all his faults
and failings, it was impossible not to admire his integrity and his love of truth.
Porson declared that he learned nothing while
a schoolboy at Eton.  "Before I went there," he
said, "I could nearly repeat by heart all the books
which we used to read in the schools."  The only
thing in his Eton course which he recollected with
pleasure was-rat-hunting! he used to talk with
delight of the rat-hunts in the Long Hall.




296.                PORSONIANA.
During the earlier part of his career, he accepted
the situation of tutor to a young gentleman in the
Isle of Wight; but he was soon forced to relinquish
that office, in consequence of having been found
drunk in a ditch or a turnip-field.
The two persons to whom Porson had the greatest obligations were Sir George Baker, and Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph. Sir George once ventured
to chide him for his irregularities-a liberty which
Porson resented, and never forgave,* though he owed
Sir George so much.
Porter was his favourite beverage at breakfast.
One Sunday morning meeting Dr. Goodall (Provost
of Eton), he said, "Where are you going?";; To
church."  "Where is Mrs. Goodall? "'At breakfast."  "Very well; I'll go and breakfast with her."
Porson accordingly presented himself before Mrs.
Goodall; and being asked what he chose to take, he
said ~"porter."  It was sent for, pot after pot; and
the sixth pot was just being carried into the house
when Dr. Goodall returned from church.
" This seems to account for the statement in Beloe's Sexageanarian
(i. 234), viz. that Porson "all at once ceased to go to Sir George
Baker's house, and from what motive Sir George always avowed himself ignorant."-ED.




PORSONIANA.                297
At one period of his life he was in such straitened circumstances, that he would go without dinner
for a couple of days. However, when a dinner came
in his way, he would eat very heartily (mutton
was his favourite dish), and lay in, as he used to
say, a stock of provisions. He has subsisted for three
weeks upon a guinea.
Sometimes, at a later period, when he was able
enough to pay for a dinner, he chose, in a lit of abstinence, to go without one. I have asked him to
stay and dine with me; and he has replied, " Thank
you, no; I dined yesterday."
At dinner, and after it, he preferred port to any
other wine. He disliked both tea and coffee.
Porson would sit up drinking all night, without
seeming to feel any bad effects from  it. Horne
Tooke told me that he once asked Porson to dine
with him in Richmond Buildings; and, as he knew
that Porson had not been in bed for the three preceding nights, he expected to get rid of him at a
tolerably early hour. Porson, however, kept Tooke
up the whole night: and in the morning, the latter,
in perfect despair, said, " Mr. Porson, I am engaged
to meet a friend at breakfast at a coffee-house in
13*




298                   PORSONIANA.
Leicester Square."   " Oh," replied Porson, " I will
go with you;" and he accordingly did so.  Soon
after they had reached the coffee-house, Tooke co.ntrived to slip out, and running home, ordered his
servant not to let Mr. Porson in, even if he should
attempt to batter down the door.  "A  man," observed Tooke, "who could sit up four nights successively might have sat up forty." 
Tooke used to say that "Porson would drink ink
rather than not drink at all." Indeed, he would
drink any thing.  He was sitting with a gentleman,
after dinner, in the chambers of a mutual friend, a
Templar, who was then ill and confined to bed. A
servant came into the room, sent thither by his master for a bottle  of embrocation which was on the
chimney-piece.   "I drank  it an hour ago," said
Porson.
When Hoppner the painter was residing in  a
3 In Stephens's Memoirs ofHiorne Tooke, vol. ii. 315, is an account
of Porson's rudeness to Tooke while dining with him one day at Wimbledon, and of Tooke's silencing and triumphing over him by making
him dead drunk with brandy; on which occasion " some expressions
of a disagreeable nature are said to have occurred at table."-At that
dinner Tooke (as he told Mr. Maltby) asked Porson for a toast; and
Porson replied, " I will give you-the man who is in all respects the
very reverse of John Home Tooke."-ED.




PORSONIANA.              299
cottage a few miles from London, Porson, one afternoon, unexpectedly arrived there. Hoppner said
that he could not offer him dinner, as Mrs. II. had
gone to town, and had carried with her the key of
the closet which contained the wine. Porson, however, declared that he would be content with a
mutton-chop, and beer from the next alehouse; and
accordingly staid to dine. During the evening Porson said, " I am quite certain that Mrs. Hoppner
keeps some nice bottle, for her private drinking, in
her own bedroom; so pray, try if you can lay your
hands on it."  His host assured him that Mrs. II.
had no such secret stores; but Porson insisting that
a search should be made, a bottle was at last discovered in the lady's apartment, to the surprise of
Iloppner, and the joy of Porson, who soon finished
its contents, pronouncing it to be the best gin he
had tasted for a long time. Next day. Hoppner,
somewhat out of temper, informed his wife that
Porson had drunk every drop of her concealed dram.
" Drunk every drop of it! " cried she, " my God, it
was spirits of wine for the lamp! "
A brother of Bishop Maltby invited Porson and
myself to spend the evening at his house, and se



300                 PORSONIANA.
cretly requested me to take Porson away, if possible, before the morning hours.  Accordingly, at
twelve o'clock I held up my watch to Porson, saying,
" I think it is now full time for us to go home; "
and the host, of course, not pressing us to remain
longer, away we went. When we got into the street,
Porson's indignation burst forth; "I hate," he said,
"to be turned out of doors like a dog."
At the house of the same gentleman I introduced
Cogan to Porson, saying, "This is Mr. Cogan,* who
is passionately fond of what you have devoted yourself to,-Greek."  Porson replied, " If Mr. Cogan
is passionately fond of Greek, he must be content
to dine on bread and cheese for the remainder of
his life."
Gurney  (the Baron) had chambers in Essex
Court, Temple, under Porson's.  One night (or
rather, morning) Gurney was awakened by a tremendous thump in the chambers above.  Porson
had just come home dead drunk, and had fallen on
the floor.  Having extinguished his candle in the
* Not the Bath physician and author Thomas Cogan,-but Eliezer
Cogan, a dissenting clergyman who kept a school at Walthamstow,
and published Moschi Idyllia tria with Latin notes, some Sermons, &c.
-ED.




PORSONIANA.                  301
fall, he presently staggered down stairs to relight
it; and Gurney heard him keep dodging and poking
with the candle at the stair-case lamp for about five
minutes, and all the while very lustily cursing the
nature of things.
Porson was fond of smoking, and said that when
smoking began to go out of fashion, learning began
to go out of fashion also.
He was generally ill-dressed and dirty.  But I
never saw him  such a figure as he was one day at
Leigh and Sotheby's auction-room; he evidently
had been rolling in the kennel; and, on inquiry, I
found that he was just come from a party (at Robert HIeathcote's, I believe), with whom he had been
sitting up drinking for two nights.
One forenoon I met Porson in Covent Garden,
dressed in a pea-green coat: he had been married 
that morning, as I afterwards learned from Raine,
for he himself said nothing about it.  He was carrying a copy of Ie ]Ioyen de Pctrvenir, which he
had just purchased off a stall; and holding it up,
" In 1795, R. P. married Mrs. Lunan, who sunk under a decline
ill 1797." Kidd's Life of Porson, p. xv. She was sister to Perry, editor
of The Aorning  Chronicle.-En.




302              PORSONIANA.
he called out jokingly, "These are the sort of books
to buy! "
" I was occupied two years," said Porson, " in
composing the Letters to Trcvis: I received thirty
pounds for them from Egerton; and I am glad to
find that he lost sixteen by the publication." He
once talked of writing an Appendix to that work.In his later years he used to regret that he had devoted so much time to the study of theology.
Soon after the Letters to Travis were published,
Gibbon wrote a note to Porson, requesting the pleasure of his acquaintance. Porson accordingly called
upon the great historian, who received him with all
kindness and respect. In the course of conversation
Gibbon said, " Mr. Porson, I feel truly indebted to
you for the Letters to Travis, though I must think
that occasionally, while praising me, you have mingled a little acid with the sweet. If ever you should
take the trouble to read my History over again, I
should be much obliged and honoured by any remarks on it which might suggest themselves to you.'
Porson was highly flattered by Gibbon's having requested this interview, and loved to talk of it. He
thought the Decline and Fall beyond all compari



PORSONIANN.               303
son the greatest literary production of the eighteenth
century, and was in the habit of repeating long passages from  it.  Yet I have heard him  say that
"there could not be a better exercise for a schoolboy than to turn a page of it into English."
When the Ietters to Trhavis first appeared, Rennell said to me, " It is just such a book as the devil
would write, if he could hold a pen."
As soon as Gibbon's Autobiography and Miscellaneous Works came out, they were eagerly devoured both by Porson and myself. Neither of us
could afford to purchase the quarto edition; so we
bought the Dublin reprint in octavo.
There was no cordiality between Porson and
Jacob Bryant, foq they thought very differently not
only on the subject of Troy, but on most other subjects.  Bryant used to abuse Porson behind his
back; and one day, when he was violently attacking
his character, the Bishop of Salisbury, Dr. Douglas,
said to him, " Mr. Bryant, you are speaking of a
great man; and you should remember, sir, that
even the greatest men are not without their failings."  Cleaver Banks, who was present on that
occasion, remarked to me, "I shall always think




304                PORSONIANA.
well of the Bishop for his generous defence of oru
friend."
Porson was sometimes very rude in society.
My relation, Dr. Maltby (Bishop of Durham), once
invited him to meet Paley at dinner. Paley arrived
first. When Porson (who had never before seen him)
came into the room, he seated himself in an armchair, and looking very hard at Paley, said, "I am
entitled to this chair, being president of a society for
the discovery of truth, of which I happen at present to
be the only imember." These words were levelled at
certainpolitical opinions broached in Paley's works.
I have often wondered that Porson did not get
into scrapes in those days, when it was so dangerous
to express violent political feelings: he would think
nothing of toasting " Jack Cade' at a tavern, when
he was half-seas-over.
One day after dinner, at Clayton Jennings's
house, Captain Ash, who was always ready to warble,
burst out, as usual, with a song. Now, Porson hated
singing after dinner; and, while Ash was in the
middle of his song, an ass happening to bray in the
street, Porson interrupted the Captain with, " Sir,
you have a rival."




PORSONIANA.                305
He used frequently to regret that he had not
gone to America in his youth and settled there. I
said, "What would you have done without books? "
He answered, " I should have done without them."
At one time he had some thoughts of taking
orders, and studied divinity for a year or two. " But,
said he, " I found that I should require abou6t fifty
years' reading to make myself thoroughly acquainted
with it-to satisfy my mind on all points, and therefore I gave it up. There are fellows who go into a
pulpit, assuming every thing, and knowing nothing:
but I would not do so."
He said that every man ought to marry once. I
observed that every man could not afford to maintain
a family.  " Oh," replied he,' pap is cheap."
He insisted that all men are born with abilities
nearly equal.  " Any one," he would say, "might
become quite as good a critic as I am, if he would
only take the trouble to make himself so. I have
made myself what I am by intense labour: sometimes, in order to impress a thing upon my memory,
I have read it a dozen times, and transcribed it
six." *
* But he was certainly gifted by nature with most extraordinary




306                   PORSONIANA.
He once had  occasion to travel to Norwich.
When the coach arrived there, he was beset by se
veral porters, one offering to carry his portmanteau
to  his lodging for eighteen-pence, another for a
shilling, another for ninepence: upon which, Porson
shouldered the portmanteau, and marching off with
it, said very gravely to the porters, " Gentlemen, I
leave you to settle this dispute among yourselves."
When, however, he went to stay with a friend for
only a couple of days or so, he did not encumber
himself with a portmanteau: he would merely take
a shirt in his pocket, saying, " Omqmia Tmea meerum
porto."
The time he wasted in writing notes on the margins of books-I mean, in writing them with such
beauty of penmanship that they rivalled print-was
truly lamentable.*   And  yet he used those very
powers of memory. Dr. Downie, of Aberdeen, told me that, during
a visit to London, he heard Porson declare that he could repeat Smollett's Roderick Random from beginning to end:-and Mr. Richard Heber assured me that soon after the appearance of the Essay on Irish
Bulls (the joint production of Edgeworth and his daughter), Porson
used, when somewhat tipsy, to recite whole pages of it verbatim with
great delight.-ED.
* Such was his rage for calligraphy, that he once offerred to letter
the backs of some of Mr. Richard Heber's vellum-bound classics. " No,"




PORSONIANA.                   307
books most cruelly, whether they were his own, or
belonging to others: he would let them lie about
his room, covered with dust and all sorts of dirt.
He said that "he possessed more bad copies of good
books than any private gentleman in England."
When he lived in Essex Court, Temple, he would
shut himself up for three or four days together, ad
mitting no visitors to his chambers. One morning
I went to call upon him there; and having inquired
at his barber's close by "if Mr. Porson was at
home," was answered " Yes, but he has seen no one
for two days." I, however, proceeded to his chain
bers, and knocked at the door more than once. He
would not open it, and I came down stairs. As I
was recrossing the court, Porson, who had perceived
that Iwas the visitor, opened the window, and stopped
me. He was then busy about the Grenville Homer,
for which he collated the Harleian Ms. of the Odyssey. His labours on that work were rewarded with
said Heber, " I won't let you do that: but I shall be most thankful
if you will write into an Atheneus some of those excellent emendations which I have heard from you in conversation." Heber accordingly sent to him Brunck's interleaved copy of that author (Casaubon's
edition); which Person enriched with many notes. These notes were
afterwards published in his Adversaria. The Atheneus is now in my
possession.-ED.




308                PORSONIANA.
501. and a large-paper copy. I thought the payment
too small, but Burney considered it as sufficient.
I told him one day that the examiners for the
Cambridge University scholarship had just been
greatly puzzled to find out which of the candidates
was the best scholar.   Indeed!  said Porson: "I
wish I had been there; I would have put a question or two which would have quickly settled the
point."
Postlethwaite * having come to London to attend
the WVestminster Examination, Porson called upon
him, when the following dialogue (which I wrote
down from Porson's dictation) took place between
them. Porson. " I am come, sir, to inform you that
my fellowship will become vacant in a few weeks, in
order that you may appoint my successor."  Postle.; But) Mr. Porson, you do not mean to leave us? "
Porson. " It is not I who leave you, but you who
dismiss me. You have done me every injury in your
power. But I am not come to complain or expostulate."  Postle. " I did not know, Mr. Porson, you
were so resolved."  Porson. " You could not conceive, sir, that I should have applied for a lay-fellow* Master of Trinity College, Cambridge.-ED.




PORSONIANA.                 309
ship to the detriment of some more scrupulous man,
if it had been my intention to take orders."
In 1792, Postlethwaite wrote a letter to Porson
informing him that the Greek Professorship at Cambridge had fallen vacant. Here is an exact copy of
Porson's answer: *
" SIR,-When I first received the favour of your
letter, I must own that I felt rather vexation and
chagrin than hope and satisfaction.  I had looked
upon myself so completely in the light of an outcast
from Alma Mater, that I had made up my mind to
have no farther connexion with the place.  The
prospect you held out to me gave me more nneasiness than pleasure. When I was younger than I now
am, and my disposition more sanguine than it is at
present, I was in daily expectation of AMr. Cooke's
resignation, and I flattered myself with the hope of
succeeding to the honour he was going to quit. As.hope and ambition are great castle-builders, I had
laid a scheme, partly, as I was willing to think, for
the joint credit, partly for the mutual advantage, of
* This letter has been already printed; but in publications that
are very little known.-En.




310               PORSOMANA.
myself and the University. I had projected a plan
of reading lectures, and I persuaded myself that I
should easily obtain a grace permitting me to exact
a certain sum from every person who attended. But
seven years' waiting will tire out the most patient
temper; and all my ambition of this sort was long
ago laid asleep. The sudden news of the vacant
professorship put me in mind of poor Jacob, who,
having served seven years in hopes of being rewarded
with Rachel, awoke, and behold it was Leah!
"Such, sir, I confess, were the first ideas that
took possession of my mind. But after a little reflection, I resolved to refer a matter of this importance to my friends. This circumstance has caused
the delay, for which I ought before now to have
apologised. My friends unanimously exhorted me to
embrace the good fortune which they conceived to be
within my grasp. Their advice, therefore, joined to
the expectation I had entertained of doing some small
good by my exertions in the employment, together
with the pardonable vanity which the honour annexed to the office inspired, determined me: and I
was on the point of troubling you, sir, and the other
electors with notice of my intentions to profess my



PORSONIANA.              311
self a candidate, when an objection, which had
escaped me in the hurry of my thoughts, now occurred to my recollection.
" The same reason which hindered me from keeping my fellowship by the method you obligingly
pointed out to me, would, I am greatly afraid, prevent me from being Greek Professor. Whatever
concern this may give me for myself, it gives me
none for the public. I trust there are at least twenty or thirty in the University equally able and willing to undertake the office; possessed, many, of
talents superior to mine, and all of a more complying conscience. This I speak upon the supposition
that the next Greek Professor will be compelled to
read lectures: but if the place remains a sinecure,
the number of qualified persons will be greatly increased. And though it were even granted, that
my industry and attention might possibly produce
some benefit to the interests of learning and the
credit of the University, that trifling gain would be
as much exceeded by keeping the Professorship a
sinecure, and bestowing it on a sound believer, as
temporal considerations are outweighed by spiritual.
Having only a strong persuasion, not an absolute




312                  POISONIANA.
certainty, that such a subscription is required of the
Professor elect,-if I am  mistaken, I hereby offer
myself as a candidate; but if I am right in my opinion, I shall beg of you to order my name to be
erased from the boards, and I shall esteem it a favour conferred on, sir,
" Your obliged humble servant,
" R. PORSON.
" Essex Court, Temple, 6th October, 1792."
When he was first elected Greek Professor," he
assured me that he intended to give public lectures
in that capacity. I afterwards asked him why he
had not given them.  He replied, " Because I have
thought better on it: whatever originality my lectures might have had, people would have cried out,
We knew all tlh  before."
I was with him one day when he bought Drakenborch's Livy; and I said, "Do  you mean to
read through all the notes in these seven quarto
volumes? "  "I buy it at least," he answered, " in
* In 1793, by an unanimous vote of the seven electors.-According to the printed accounts of Porson, he was prevented from giving
lectures by the want of rooms for that purpose.-ED.,




PORSONIANA.                    313
the hope of doing so some time or other: there is
no doubt a deal of valuable information to be found
in the notes; and I shall endeavour to collect that
information. Indeed, I should like to publish a
volume of the curious things which I have gathered
in the course of my studies; but people would only
say of it, We znew all this before."
Porson had no very high opinion of Parr, and
could not endure his metaphysics, One evening,
Parr was beginning a regular harangue on the origin of evil, when Porson stopped him  short by asking " what was the use of it  " —Porson, who shrunk
on all occasions from  praise of himself, was only
annoyed by the eulogies which Parr lavished upon
him in print.  When Parr published the Remarkss
on Coombe's Statement, in which Porson is termed
" a giant in literature,"   &c., Porson said, "How
should Dr. Parr be able to take the measure of a
giant?"
* " But Mr. Porson, the re-publisher of Heyne's Virgil, is a giant
in literature, a prodigy in intellect, a critic, whose mighty achievements leave imitation panting at a distance behind them, and whose
stupendous powers strike down all the restless and aspiring suggestions
of rivalry into silent admiration and passive awe." p. 13. This tract
is not reprinted entire in the ed. of Parr's Works, —EDo
14




314               PORSONIANA.
Parr was evidently afraid of Porson,-of his intellectual powers. I might say too that Horne
Tooke had a dread of Porson; but it was only the
dread of being insulted by some rude speech from
Porson in his drunkenness. Porson thought highly
both of Tooke's natural endowments and of his acquirements.   I have learned many valuable things
from Tooke," was what he frequently said; " yet I
don't always believe Tooke's assertions," was sometimes his remark.-(I knew Parr intimately. I once
dined at Dilly's with Parr, Priestley, Cumberland,
and some other distinguished people.  Cumberland,
who belonged to the family of the Blandishes, bepraised Priestley to his face, and after he had left
the party, spoke of him  very disparagingly. This
excited Parr's extremest wrath. When I met him
a few days after, he said, " Only think of Mr. Cumberland! that he should have presumed to talk before me,-before me, sir,-in such terms of my friend
Dr. Priestley! Pray, sir, let Mr. Dilly know my
opinion of Mr. Cumberland,-that his ignorance is
equalled only by his impertinence, and that both
are exceeded by his malice. — Parr hated Dr. Horsley to such a degree that he never mentioned him




PORSONIANA.               315
by any other name than the fend. — Parr once said
to Barker, " You have read a great deal, you have
thought very little, and you know nothing.")
One day Porson went down to Greenwich to borrow a book from Burney; and finding that Bnrney
was out, he stepped into his library, pocketed the
volume, and set off again for London. Soon after,
Burney came home; and, offended at the liberty
Porson had taken, pursued him in a chaise, and recovered the book.  Porson talked to me of this affair with some bitterness: " Did Burney suppose,"
he said, " that I meant to play is old tricks?  (alluding to a well-known circumstance in the earlier
part of Burney's history).
I believe, with you, that Burney was indebted
to Porson for many of those remarks on various
niceties of Greek which he has given as his own in
different publications.  Porson once said to me,
" A certain gentleman " (evidently meaning Burney)
" has just been with me; and he brought me a long
string of questions, every one of which I answered
off-hand. Really, before people become schoolmasters, they ought to get up their Greek thoroughly,
for they never learn any thing more of it after



316                   PORSONIANA.
wards."-I one day asked Burney for his opinion of
Porson as a scholar.  Burney replied, " I think my
friend Dick's acquaintance with the Greek dramatists quite marvellous; but he was just as well acquainted with them at the age of thirty as he is now:
he has not improved in Greek since he added brandy-and-water to his potations, and took to novelreading."   Porson would sometimes read nothing
but novels for a fortnight together.
Porson felt much respect for Gilbert Wakefield's
integrity, but very little for his learning. When
Wakefield put forth the Diatribe Extemporam        s " on
Porson's edition of the Heczubx, Porson said, "If
Wakefield goes on at this rate, he will tempt me to
examine his Silvce Criticc. I hope that we shall not
meet; for a violent quarrel would be the  consequence." —(Wakefield was a very agreeable and entertaining  companion.  " MVy Iucretius," he once
* On the publication of Porson's Hecuba, Wakefield, in great agitation, asked Mr. Evans (the now retired bookseller) who was
its editor?  "Can you have any doubts?" replied Evans; "Mr.
Porson, of course."-" But," said Wakefield, " I want proof,-positive
proof." "Well, then," replied Evans, "I saw Mr. Porson present a
large-paper copy to Mr. Cracherode, and heard him acknowledge himself the editor." Wakefield immediately went home, and composed
the Diatribe.-ED,




PORSONIANA.                317
said to me,' is my most perfect publication,-it is,
in fact, Lucretius Restitutus."     He was a great
walker; he has walked as much as forty miles in
one day; and I believe that his death was partly
brought on by excessive walking, after his long
confinement in Dorchester gaol. What offended
Wakefield at Porson was, that Porson had made no
mention of him in his notes.  Now, Porson told
Burney expressly, that out of pure kindness he had
forborne to mention Wakefield; for he could not
have cited any of his emendations without the
severest censure.)
Dr. Raine, Dr. Davy, Cleaver Banks, and perhaps I may add myself, were the persons with whom
Porson maintained the greatest intimacy.
Banks once invited Porson (about a year before
his death) to dine with him at an hotel at the west
end of London; but the dinner passed away without the expected guest having made his appearance.
Afterwards, on Bank's asking him  why he had not
kept his engagement, Porson replied (without entering into further particulars) that "he had come!"
* He sadly deceived himself: see the judgment passed on it by
Lachmann in his recent admirable edition of Lucretius. —ED.




318              PORSOIANA.
and Banks oould only conjecture, that the waiters,
seeing Porson's shabby dress, and not knowing who
he was, had offered him some insult, which had
made him indignantly return home.
"I hear," said I to Porson, " that you are to dine
to-day at Holland House."  " Who told you so? "
asked he.-I replied, "Mackintosh."'"But I certainly shall not go," continued Porson: "they invite me merely out of curiosity; and, after they have
satisfied it, they would like to kick me down stairs."
I then informed him that Fox was coming from St.
Anne's Hill to Holland House for the express purpose of being introduced to him: but he persisted in
his resolution; and dined quietly with Rogers and
myself at Rogers's chambers in the Temple. Mlany
years afterwards, Lord Holland mentioned to Rogers
that his uncle (Fox) had been greatly disappointed
at not meeting Porson on that occasion.
Person disliked Mackintosh; they differed in
politics, and their reading had little in common.
One day Porson took up in my room a nicely
bound copy of the Polycraticon (by John of Salisbury), and having dipped into it, said, " I must read
this through;" so he carried it off. About a month




PORSONIANA.                319
had elapsed, when calling at his chambers, I happened to see my beautiful book lying on the floor
and covered with dust. This vexed me; and I mentioned the circumstance to Mlr. Maltby (an elder
brother of the Bishop of Durham), who repeated to
Porson what I had said. A day or two after, I dined
with Porson at Rogers's: he swallowed a good deal
of wine; and then began in a loud voice an indirect
attack on me,-" There are certain people who complain that I use their books roughly," &c. &c. I was
quite silent; and when he found that I would not
take any notice of his tirade, he dropped the subject.
When Porson was told that Pretyman * had been
left a large estate by a person who had seen him
only once, he said, " It would not have happened,
if the person had seen him twice."
Ieeting me one day at a booksale, Porson said,
"That  " *    *  the Bishop of Lincoln (Tomline)
has just passed me in the street, and he shrunk from
my eye like a wild animal. What do you think he
has had the impudence to assert? Not long ago, he
* Then Bishop of Lincoln. A valuable estate was bequeathed
to him by Marmaduke Tomline (a gentleman with whom he had no
relationship or connection), on condition of his taking the name of
Tomline.-ED.




320               PORSONIANA.
came to me, and, after informing me that Lord Elgin
was appointed ambassador to the Porte, he asked
me if I knew any one who was competent to examine the Greek manuscripts at Constantinople: I replied that I did not: and he now tells every body
that I refused the proposal of government that I
should go there to examine those mncnscripts!"I do not believe that Porson would have gone to
Constantinople, if he had had the offer. He hated
moving; and would not even accompany me to Paris. When I was going thither, he charged me with
a message to Villoison.
When Porson first met Perry after the fire in the
house of the latter at Merton, he immediately inquired "if any lives had been lost? " Perry replied
"No."  "Well," said Porson, "then I shall not
complain, though I have lost the labours of my life."
His transcript* of the Cambridge Photius, which
was burnt in that fire, he afterwards replaced by
patiently making a second transcript; but his numerous notes on Aristophanes, which had also been
consumed, were irrecoverably gone.
* Two beautifully written fragments of it (scorched to a deep
brown) are in my possession.-ED.




PORSONIANA.               321
He used to call Bishop Porteus "(Bishop Proteus" (as one who had changed his opinions from
liberal to illiberal).
For the scholarship of that amiable man Bishop
Burgess he felt a contempt which he was unable to
conceal. He was once on a visit at Oxford in company with Cleaver Banks, where, during a supperparty, he gave great offence by talking of Burgess
with any thing but respect. At the same supperparty, too, he offended Professor Holmes: * taking
up an oyster which happened to be gaping, he exclaimed, Quid digcnum tanto feret hic professor hiatu? t (substituting I professor" for Ipromissor").
Porson, having good reason to believe that Matthias was the author of the Purfsuts of Literature,
used always to call him "the Pursuer of Literature."
It was amusing to see Kidd in Porson's company:
he bowed down before Porson with the veneration
due to some being of a superior nature, and seemed
absolutely to swallow every word that dropped from
his mouth. Porson acknowledged (and he was slow
to praise) that Kidd was a very pretty scholar."
Out of respect to the memory of Markland, Por* The then Professor of Poetry.-ED.
t Horace, Ars Poet. 138.-ED.
14*




322               PORSONNIAA.
son went to see the house near Dorking, where he
had spent his later years and where he died.
I need hardly say that he thought Tyrwhitt an
admirable critic.
A gentleman who had heard that Bentley was
born in the north, said to Porson, "Wasn't he a
Scotchman? " —" No, sir," replied Porson; " Bentley
was a Greek scholar."
He said, " Pearson would have been a first-rate
critic in Greek, if he had not muddled his brains
with divinity."
He had a high opinion of Coray as a scholar,
and advised me by all means to purchase his fippocrates.2
He liked Larcher's translation of Herodotus,
and, indeed, all Larcher's pieces. At his recommendation I bought Larcher's Meinoire su r Venus.
He was a great reader of translations, and never
wrote a note on any passage of an ancient author
without first carefully looking how it had been rendered by the different translators.
Porson, of course, did not value the Latin writers
so much as the Greek; but still he used to read many
* i. e. The Treatise of Hippocrates on Airs, Waters, and Places (in
Greek and French), 2 vols.-ED.




PORSONIANA.                   323
of the former with great care, particularly Cicero, of
whose Tusulacm  Disputation8 he was very fond.
For all modern Greek and Latin poetry he had
the profoundest contempt.  When Herbert published the Mu8scw Etonentses, Porson said, after looking over one of the volumes, "Here is trash, fit
only to be put behind the fire."
His favourite authors in Greek (as, I believe,
every body knows) were the tragedians and Aristophanes; he had them almost by heart.
He confessed to me and the present Bishop of
Durham (Maltby), that he knew comparatively little
of Thucydides-that, when he read him, he was
obliged to mark with a pencil, in almost every page,
passages which he did not understand.
He dabbled a good deal in Galen.
He cared less about Lucian than, considering
the subjects of that writer, you might suppose; the
fact was, he did not relish such late Greek.
He sent Thomas Taylor  several emendations of
* With that remarkable person, Thomas Taylor, I was well
acquainted. In Greek verbal scholarship he was no doubt very
deficient (he was entirely self-taught); but in a knowledge of the
matter of Plato, of Aristotle, of the commentators on Aristotle (themselves a library), of Proclus, of Plotinus, &c., he has never, I presume, been equalled by any Englishman.. That he endeavoured to




324                     PORSONIANA.
Plato's text for his translation  of that philosopher;
but Taylor, from  his ignorance  of the Greek  language, was unable to use them.
carry into practice the precepts of the ancient philosophers is sufficiently notorious: that he did so to the last hour of his existence I
myself had a proof: the day before he died, I went to see him; and
to my inquiry " how he was?" he answered, " I have passed a dreadful night of pain-but youe remember what Posidonius said to Pompey"
(about pain being no evil).
Chalmers, in his Biog. Diet., expresses his regret that he can tell
so little about Floyer Sydenham, the excellent translator of Plato,
and remarks that he "deserves a fuller account."  I give the following particulars concerning him  on the authority of Taylor, who
when a young man was intimate with Sydenham, and who, let me
add, had a scrupulous regard to truth in whatever he stated.Sydenham was originally a clergyman with a living of about 8001.
per annum; but, having fallen in love with a young lady whose
father objected to his addresses because he was in the church, he
threw up his living, and had recourse to the law as a profession.
After all, it appears, he did not marry the fair one for whose sake
he had sacrificed so much. Having made no progress at the bar, he
entered the naval service, went abroad, endured many hardships,
and finally worked his way back to England as a common sailor. He
was far from young when he first applied himself to the study of
Plato. During his later years Taylor became acquainted with him.
On their first meeting, Sydenham  shook Taylor cordially by the
hand, and said he reckoned himself truly fortunate in having at last
met with a real Platonist —deeply regretting his own want of familiarity with Proclus and Plotinus. He at that time lodged at the
house of a statuary in the Strand. He was in very distressed circumstances; and regularly received two guineas a month from
Harris (the author of Hermes). He used to dine at a neighbouring




PORSONIANA.                      325
A  gentleman who, at the age of forty, wished to
commence the study of Greek, asked Person, with
what books he ought to begin? Porson answered,
"With  one  only-Scapula's  Lexicon;  read  it
through from the first page to the last." Of the
editions of that work Porson most valued the Geneva one; he said that he had found in it several
things which were not in the other editions.
He recommended Gesner's Thesauruas in preference to all Latin dictionaries.
He read a vast number of French  works, and
used to say,  If I had a son, I should endeavour
to make him  familiar with French and English  authors, rather than  with  the  classics.  Greek and
Latin are only luxuries."
Of Italian, I apprehend, he knew little or nothing.
eating-house, where he had run up a bill of 401. This debt, as well
as several other debts, he was unable to pay; and his acquaintances
refused to discharge his bills, though they consented to maintain him
during his abode in the Fleet-prison, where he was about to be confined. The night preceding the day on which he was to be carried to
gaol he was found dead-having undoubtedly (as Taylor asserted)
put an end to his existence. For some time before his death he had
been partially insane: as he went up and down stairs, he fancied
turkeys were gobbling at him, &c.-ED.




326               PORSONIANA.
He delighted in Milton. "If I live," he exclaimed, " I will write an essay to show the world
how unjustly Milton has been treated by Johnson."
(George Steevens told me that Johnson said to
him, " In my Life of Milton I have spoken of the
Paradise lost, not so much from my own convictions of its merit, as in compliance with the taste of
the multitude."  A very old gentleman, who had
known Johnson intimately, assured me that the bent
of his mind was decidedly towards scepticism; that
he was literally afraid to examine his own thoughts
on religious matters; and that hence partly arose
his hatred of Hume and other such writers.Dr. Gosset (as he himself told me) once dined with
Johnson and a few others at Dr. Musgrave's (the
editor of Euripides). During dinner, while lM:usgrave was holding forth very agreeably on some subject, Johnson suddenly interrupted him with, " Sir,
you talk like a fool."  A dead silence ensued; and
Johnson, perceiving that his rude speech had occasioned it, turned to Musgrave, and said, "Sir, I fear
I have hurt your feelings."'" Dr. Johnson," replied
Musgrave, " I feel only for you." I have often heard
IMrs. Carter say, that, rude as Johnson might occa



PORSONIAN.                327
sionally be to others, both male and female, he had
invariably treated her with gentleness and kindness.
She perfectly adored his memory: and she used to
read his Tour to the Hebrides once every year, thinking it, as I do, one of his best works.)
Porson was passionately fond of Swift's Tale of
a Tu~b, and whenever he saw a copy of it on a stall,
he would purchase it. He could repeat by heart a
quantity of Swift's verses.
His admiration of Pope was extreme. I have
seen the tears roll down his cheeks while he was
repeating Pope's lines To the Ec6rl of Oxford, prefixed to Pcarnell's Poems (and, indeed, I have seen
him weep, while repeating other favourite passages,
-the chorus in the Hercules Furens of Euripides,
A veTras tOL f- lXov afxOos, &c.) He thought Pope's
Homer, in the finest passages of the poem, superior
to Cowper's. One forenoon, while he was going over
Pope's villa at Twickenham, in company with Rogers
and myself, he said, " Oh, how I should like to pass
the remainder of my days in a house which was the
abode of a man so deservedly celebrated!"
He was fond of Foote's plays, and would often
recite scenes from them.




328               PORSONIANA.
Junius was one of his favourite authors; he had
many passages of him by heart.
He greatly admired and used often to repeat the
following passage from the Preface to Middleton's
Free Inquiry:
" I persuade myself that the life and faculties of
man, at the best but short and- limited, cannot be
employed more rationally or laudably than in the
search of knowledge; and especially of that sort
which relates to our duty and conduces to our happiness. In these inquiries, therefore, wherever I
perceive any glimmering of truth before me, I
readily pursue and endeavour to trace it to its
source, without any reserve or caution of pushing
the discovery too far, or opening too great a glare of
it to the public. I look upon the discovery of any
thing which is true as a valuable acquisition to society; which cannot possibly hurt or obstruct the
good effect of any other truth whatsoever; for they all
partake of one common essence, and necessarily coincide with each other; and like the drops of rain, which
fall separately into the river, mix themselves at once
with the stream, and strengthen the general current."
He liked Moore's Fables for the Female Sex, and




PORSONIANA.                     329
I have heard him  repeat the one which is entitled
"The Female Seducers.9 
At a booksale, the auctioneer having put up
Wilkes's edition of Tl7eophrccsts, and praised it highly, Porson exclaimed, CPooh, pooh, it is like its
editor-of no  character."   (I was very  intimate
with Wilkes.  He felt excessively angry at the account given of him  in Gibbon's   Journal "-in the
quarto edition of his Miscell.  Workcs, i. 100-and
said to me that " Gibbon must have been  drunk
when he wrote that passage."  The fact is, Lord
Sheffield printed in the quarto edition only part of
what Gibbon had written about Wilkes: if the whole
of it had appeared there, as it afterwards did in the
octavo edition, I have no doubt that Wilkes would
have called out Lord Sheffield.)
Porson would often carry in his pocket a volume
of A  Cordial for low Spirits. -
* This now-forgotten poem was once very popular. Speaking of
Dr. Mudge, "I remember," said Northcote, " his once reading Moore's
fable of The Female Seducers with such feeling and sweetness that
every one was delighted, and Dr. Mudge himself was so much affected
that he burst into tears in the middle of it." Hazlitt's Conversations of
Northcote, p. 89. At present Moore is only recollected as the author
of The Gamester.-ED.
t As the Cordial for Low Spirits, in three volumes, is now little
read, I may mention that it is a very curious collection of contro



330                   PORSONIANA.
On returning from  a visit to the Lakes, I told
Person that Southey had said to me, " My  iladoc
has brought me in a mere trifle; but that poem will
be a valuable possession to my family." Porson
answered,' M'adoc will be read-when Homer and
Virgil are forgotten " (a bon-mot which reached Lord
Byron, and which his lordship spoilt*).
lie disliked reading folios, "because," said he,
" we meet with so few mile-stones " (X. e. we have
such long intervals between the turning over of the
leaves).
The last book he ever purchased was Watson's
forace; the last author he ever read was Pausanias.
When asked why he had written so little, Person
replied, " I doubt if I could produce any original
work which would command the attention of posterity.  I can be known only by my notes: and I am
quite satisfied if, three hundred years hence, it shall
versial pieces, &c., some of which were written by Thomas Gordon
(author of The Independent Whig), who edited the work. Its heterodoxy did not render it the less acceptable to Porson.-ED.
* " Joan of Arc was marvellous enough; but Thalaba was one
of those poems' which,' in the words of Person,'will be read when
Homer and Virgil are forgotten —but —not till then."' Note on English
Bards and Scotch Reviewers.-ED.




PORSONIANA.                     331
be said that'one Porson lived towards the close of
the eighteenth century, who did a good deal for the
text of Euripides.' 
The Letters on the  Orgies of Bacchus, signed' Mythologus," are undoubtedly by Porson.  Kidd
says that " his mind must have been overclouded' *
at the time he wrote those Letters: which is not
true; his mind was then in its soundest and most
vigorous state. They show plainly enough what his
opinions were.  When any one said to him, " Why
don't you speak out more plainly on matters of religion  " he would answer, "No, no; I shall take
care not to give mine enemies a hold upon me."
The New  Catechism  for the use of the Swinish
lultitude (which Carlisle of Fleet Street reprinted)
was also certainly by Porson. I transcribed it from
a copy in his own handwriting.t
It is not known who wrote Six more Letters to
* Porson's Tracts, p. xxxiii. note. The object of these Letters
(originally printed in The Morning Chronicle, and reprinted in The
Spirit of the Public Journals for 1797) is to point out, or rather to
insinuate, the resemblance between the history of Bacchus and that
of our Saviour. However they may shock the reader, at least they
can do him no harm; the whole being quite as absurd as it is profane. —ED.
t A gentleman informed me that Porson presented to him a copy
of the Catecisme —a printed copy.-ED.




332                    PORSONIANA.
Granville Sharp, which, according to the title-page,
are by Gregory Blunt.  They were very generally
attributed to Porson; and I have been in a bookseller's shop with him, when a person has come in,
and asked for "'Mr. Porson's remarks on Sharp."
I do not believe that he was the author of them;
but I have little doubt that he gave some assistance
to the author, particularly in the notes.  He always
praised  the  work, and  recommended  it to  his.
friends.*
I have often heard him repeat the following lines,
which, I presume, were his own composition:' Poetis nos lcetaur tribus,
Pye, Petro Pindar, parvo Pybus:
Si ulterius ire pergis,
Adde his Sir James Bland Burges."
Porson thought meanly of the medical science,
* These Six more Letters form a sort of supplement to a publication
by the late Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, entitled Six letters to Granville Sharp, sEsq., respecting his Remarks on the Uses of the Definitive
Article in the Greek Text of the New Testament, 1802. In the "Advertisement" to Who wrote EIKnN BA:IAIKH, &c., 1824, Dr. Wordsworth states that Porson " assured him privately" that the Six more
Letters were not from his pen.-ED.
1 They are printed by Dubois, but very incorrectly, in his satire
on Sir John Carr, My Pocket-Book, &c., p. 91.-ED.




PORSONIANA.              333
and hated consulting physicians. He once said to
me, "I have been staying with Dr. Davy at Cambridge: I was unwell, and he prevailed upon me to
call in a physician, who took my money, and did me
no good."
During the earlier part of our acquaintance, I
have heard him boast that he had not the slightest
dread of death-declaring that he despised fabule
aniles, and quoting Epicharmus (from Cicero*), &c.
He was once holding forth in this strain, when Dr.
Babington said to him, "' Let me tell you, Porson,
that I have known several persons who, though,
when in perfect health, they talked as you do now,
were yet dreadfully alarmed when death was really
near them."
A man of such habits as Porson was little fitted
for the office of Librarian to the London Institution. He was very irregular in his attendance there;
he never troubled himself about the purchase of
books which ought to have been added to the library; and he would frequently come home deaddrunk long after midnight. I have good reason to
believe that, had he lived, he would have been re* Tusc. i. 8.-ED.




334               PORsONIAnA.
quested to give up the office-in other words, he
would have been dismissed. I once read a letter
which he received from the Directors of the Institution, and which contained, among other severe things,
this cutting remark-" We only know that you are
our Librarian by seeing your name attached to the
receipts for your salary."  His intimate friend, Dr4.
Raine, was one of those who signed that letter; and
Raine, speaking of it to me, said, "P Porson well deserved it." As Librarian to the Institution, he had
200/. a-year, apartments rent-free, and the use of a
servant. Yet he was eternally railing at the Directors, calling them  "mercantile and mean beyond
merchandize and meanness."
During the two last years of his life I could
perceive that he was not a little shaken; and it is
really wonderful, when we consider his drinking,
and his total disregard of hours, that he lived so
long as he did. He told me that he had had an
affection of the lungs from his boyhood.




ADDENDA ET CORRIGENDA.
P. 16. The full title of Mr. Rogers's earliest publication is An Ode to Superstition with some other Poems.
The small pieces annexed to the Ode are, lines " To a
Lady on the Death of her Lover," "The Sailor," "A
Sketch of the Alps at Day-break," and "A Wish."  The
first of these Mr. Rogers thought unworthy of preservation: but it may be subjoined here:-' To a Lady on the Death of her Lover.
"Hail, pensive, pleasing Melancholy, hail!
Descend, and woo, with me, the silent shade;
The curfew swings its sound along the gale,
And the soft moonlight sleeps in every glade.
She comes, she comes! through **'s dusky grove,
In mild Eliza's form, I see her come!
Mourning with all the widow's vows of love
Her Henry's summons to his long, long home.
But hark! from yon bright cloud a voice she hears!'No more, fond maid, from social pleasures fly:'I'm sent from heaven to smile away thy tears,'For Henry shares the triumphs of the sky.




336          ADDENDA ET CORRIGENDA.'He's gone before but to prepare for thee;'And when thy soul shall wing its willing flight,'His kindred soul, from all its fetters free,'Will spring to meet thee in the realms of light.'Know, ye shall then, with mutual wonder, trace'Each little twinkling star in yon blue sphere,'Explore what modes of being people space,'And visit worlds whose laws he taught thee here.' Go, act an angel's part, be misery's friend;'Go, and an angel's feelings shalt thou gain.
Each grateful spirit o'er thy couch shall bend,
And whisper peace, when flattery's voice is vain.'Wake from thy trance. Can virtue sink in sighs?
When darkness frowns, she looks beyond the tomb.'Memory and Hope, like evening stars, arise,' And shed their mingled rays to gild the gloom.'Religion speaks. She bids thy sorrows cease:'With gratitude enjoy what God has given.'Religion speaks. She points the path to peace:
Attend her call to happiness and heaven.' "
P. 18, note.  Dele the sentence-" One or two songs,"
&C.
P. 175, 176.  For "Marley" read "Marlay." —He
was successively Bishop of Clonfert and Bishop of Waterford.




INDEX TO RECOLLECTIONS
OF
THE TABLE-TALK OF SAMUEL ROGERS.
ADAIR, Sir Robert, 97.             Bathurst, Lady, 26.
Adams, 106.                        Beattie, 40, 44.
Addington, 109.                    Beauclerk, 40.
Addison, 49.                       Beaumont, Sir George, 8, 31, 32,
Adventurer, The, 96.                 33, 188.
Africanus, Scipio, 174.            Beccaria, 257.
Aikin, 81.                         Beckford, 214, 215, 216, 217.
Alexis, 290.                       Bedford, Francis Duke of, 83.
Allen, 201.                        Beechy, Sir William, 153.
Alvanley, Lord, 163, 213, 214.    Beloe, 134, 141.
Anspach, Margravine of, 127.       Bentinck, Lord William, 100.
Antonio, Marc, 154.                Beranger, 253.
Ariosto, 91, 255.                  Berry, the Misses, 258.
Art Union, The, 156.               Berthier, 269.
Aston, 31, 32, 33.                 Besborough, Lady, 70.
Auger, 172.                        Besborough, Lord, 135.
Betty (the Young Roscius), 87.
BACON, 156.                        Bishop, 115.
Baillie, Joanna, 228.              Blair, 45.
Baber, 283, 284.                   Bloomfield, Sir Benjamin, 265,
Banks, 156.                          266.
Bankes 288.                        Blount, Martha, 25.
Bannister, 8.                      Boddington, 41, 42, 125.
Barbauld, Mrs. 81, 95, 179, 180,   Bolingbroke, Lord, 25, 95.
241.                            Bon-mots, 118.
Barre, 248.                        Borghese collection of pictures,
Barry,'88.                          153.
Bath, Lord, 214.                   Bossuet, 49.
Bathurst, Lord, 25, 265, 266.      Boswell, 10, 19.
15




338           INDEX  TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.
Bosville, 128.                     Cline, 96, 127, 129.
Bowles, 221, 258, 259.             Clive, Lord, 62.
Bowles, Mrs., 259.                 Cocked Hats, 7.
Boyce, Miss, 230.                  Coleridge, 150, 202, 203, 204,
Brome, Lord, 143.                    205, 206, 282.
Brougham, Lord, 234.               Collins, 109, 202.
Buckingham, Duchess of, 266.       Colman, 248.
Buffon, 49.                        Coloseum in the Regent's Park,
Buonaparte, 86, 93, 288.   (See      190.
Napoleon.)                       Combe, 112, 113, 114, 115, 187.
Buonaparte, Lucien, 269.           Condorcet, 41.
Burdett, Sir Francis, 128.         Congreve, 95.
Burke, 19, 20, 66, 78, 79, 80, 82,    Cooke, 136.
83, 99, 173, 270, 271.           Cork, Lady, 105, 287.
Burnet, 88.                        Corneille, 49.
Burns, 46.                         Cornwallis, Lord, 143.
Butler, 112.                       Courtenay, 36.
Byron, Lord, 192, 209, 222, 228,    Cowper, 28, 96, 134, 135, 136.
229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234,    Crabbe, 163, 245, 246, 247.
235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240,    Credi, 158.
241, 281.                        Crewe, Mr. and Mrs., afterwards
Lord and Lady, 23, 63, 64, 80,
CGSAR, Julius, 93, 174, 269.         99, 172, 218.
Campbell, Lady Charlotte, 263.     Crowe, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227.
Campbell, Thomas, 28, 207, 228,    Cumberland, Duke of, 102.
238, 250, 251, 252.              Cumberland, Richard, 136, 137.
Canning, 159, 160, 161.            Curran, 158, 159.
Canova, 156, 270.                  Cuyp, 153.
Canterbury, Lord, 286.
Carlisle, Lord, 72, 177.           D'ALEMBERT, 123.
Caroline,  Queen, 263.  (See    Dance, 21.
WVales, Princess of.)            Dannecker, 157.
Cary, 282, 283, 284.               Darwin, 180.
Castlereagh, Lord, 189, 256.       D'Arblay, Madame, 179, 192.
Catherine, Empress, 103, 104.      Dawson, Mrs., 248.
Chantrey, Sir Francis, 156, 157,    Deaths of friends in newspapers,
158, 192.                          199.
Charade, 255.                      Delille, 48.
Charlotte, Queen, 75, 261.         Derby, Lord, 198.
Charlotte, Princess, 265, 266.     Devonshire, Georgiana, Duchess
Chatham, Lord, 100, 132.             of, 190, 191, 250.
Chesterfield, Lord, 118.           Devonshire, William, fifth Duke
Churchill, 139.                      of, 191.
Clairvoyance, 290.                 Dino, Duchess di, 253.
Clarence, Duke of, 260.  (See    D'Israeli, 29.
William the Fourth.)            Doria collection of pictures, 153.
Claude, 155, 188.                  Douglas, 106.
Cleopatra, 174.                    Drummond, Sir William, 261.




INDEX  TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.                  339
Dryden, 29, 30, 31, 88, 89, 221.    GARRICK, 7, 8, 9, 87, 88, 101,
Dudley, Lord, 184, 262. (See         106, 107, 136.
Ward.)                          Genlis, Madame de, 80, 81.
Duels, 212, 213, 214.             George the Third, 90, 259, 260.
Dundas, 110, 144.                 George the Fourth, 266, 267,
Dunmore, Lady, 177.                  268.  (See Wales, Prince of.)
Dunmore, Lord, 143.               Gerald, 49.
Dunning, 56.                      Gibbon, 66, 77, 78, 115, 134,
Durham, Lord, 254.                   174, 196.
Dyer, 271.                        Gifford, 208, 209, 210, 211.
Gilpin, 18, 256.
Giorgione, 155.
ELDON, Lord, 126, 189.            Giorgioe,  ad55.
^ ^7 7^~    1~ ^Glenbervie, Lady, 83.
Elgin Marbles, 153.               Gloucester, Duchess of, 163.
Ellenborough, Lord, 196, 197.     Glynn, 134.
Ellis, George, 159.                Godwin, 248, 249.
Ellis, Welbore, 63.               Goethe, 252.
Englefield, Sir Henry, 152, 261.    Goldsmith, 85.
Erskine, Lord, 51, 52, 53, 54     Gd, 
126, 127, 286.                  Gordon, Jane, Duchess of, 143,
126, 127, 286.                    144.
Essex, Lord, 267.                    144.
Essex, Lord, 267.                 Gordon, Lord George, 182.
Este, 58, 59, 142.                 Graham, Sir James, 289.
Euripides, 92.                     Grattan, 172, 173, 174, 175.
Gray, 34,35, 36, 37, 38, 91, 160,
FARNBOROUGH, Lord, 21.               221.
Farren, Miss, 16.                  Grenville, Lord, 78, 109, 110,
Fielding, 227.                       111, 256.
Fincastle, Lord, 277.             Grenville, Rt. Hon. Thomas, 8,
Fitzpatrick, 10, 65, 73, 104, 105,   54, 63, 178, 198.
113, 191, 278.                  Grey, Lord, 191.
Flaxman, 156.                      Guido, 154.
Foote, 100, 101, 102.              Gulliver's Travels, 257.
Fordyce, 23.                       Guilford, Lady, 198.
Foscolo, 282.                      Guilford, Lord, 220, 221.
Fox, Charles James, 20, 36, 72,    Gurwood, 289, 290.
73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80,
81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88,    HADYN, 22.
89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96,    Halford, Sir Henry, 268.
97, 98, 99, 100, 104, 142, 248,    Halhed, 67.
254.                            Hamilton, Alexander, Duke of,
Fox, Mrs., 84, 85, 87, 88, 97,       217.
105.                            Hamilton, Archibald, Duke of,
Fox, General, 84, 85.                177.
Fox, Joseph, 201.                  Hamilton, Duchess of, 214, 217.
Francis, Sir Philip, 272, 273.     Hamilton, Lady, 141, 142.
Frere, 16, 159, 192, 203.         Hamilton, Sir William, 141.
Fuller, 192.                      Hamilton, William Gerard, 173.
Fuseli, 198.                       Hampden, Lord, 141.




340          INDEX TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.
Hampstead Assemblies, 102.       Jeffrey, Lord, 277, 278, 280.
Hannibal, 174.                   Jekyll, 105.
Hare, 104.                       Jersey, Lady, 193, 230, 264, 265.
Harington, Sir John, 255         Johnson, 9, 10.
Harris, 128.                     Jordan, Mrs., 64.
Hayley, 56, 57, 58.              Jortin, 49.
Head-dresses of the ladies, 22.  Josephine, Empress, 269.
Helens, Lord St., 103, 104.      Junius's Letters, 173, 270, 271,
Henderson, 109, 136.               272.
Herschel, Sir John, 196.
Highwaymen in former days, 198.
Hi^ppohratenifs, 94 day.          KEMIBLE, 87, 151, 186, 187, 188.
TT-ppocrates, 94-                Kenyon, Lord, 196.
Historians, the Greek and Latin,   eyon, Lord, 196,
9  33                          Kippis, 43, 133.
931 94.                     Knight, 60, 202.
Hobhouse, 228, 237.                  h, 60, 202
Hogartho,  155.23                Knighton, Sir William, 267.
Hogarth, 155.
Holland, Henry Lord, 201.        Knowles, 285.
Holland, H. R. Vassall Lord, 1,    Iosciusko, 51.
27, 57, 71, 82, 137, 202, 256,
274, 275, 276.                 LAFAYETTE, 41.
Holland, Lady, 96, 272, 273, 274,    Lamartine, 253.
275, 286.                      Lamb, Lady Caroline, 231, 232.
Homer, 60, 61, 62, 92.           Lancaster, 200.
Hook, 285, 286.                  Lane, 138.
Hoole, 130.                      Lansdowne, Lord, 57, 58, 137.
Hope, 264.                       Laurence, Dr., 20, 78, 270.
Hoppner, 208, 211.               Laurence, Sir Thomas, 154, 155,
Horner, 278.                        158, 183, 184, 185, 267.
Horsley, 212.                    Lawless, 24.
Howard, 151.                     Legge, 159.
Howarth, 213.                    Leopold, Prince, 266.
Howley, Bishop, afterwards Arch-    Lewis, 163, 164.
bishop, 71, 170, 283.          Lindsay, Lady Charlotte, 261.
Hume, 44, 105, 106, 123, 143.    Lionardo, 154.
Hunt, 236.                       Liston, 253.
Hunter, John, 60.                Living like brothers, 182.
Hunter, Mrs., 46.                Lonsdale, Lord, 189, 206, 207.
Hurd, 101.                       Loughborough, Lord, 107.
Lucan, Lady, 10.
INCHBALD, Mrs., 243, 244.        Lunardi, 84.
Ireland, curses of, 199.         Luttrell, 30, 53, 233, 276.
Irishmen, Three, behaviour of,    Lyttelton, George Lord, 95, 118.
189.                           Lyttelton, Thomas Lord, 95, 118,
Isabey, 269.                        119.
JACKSON, John, 157.              MACK, 268.
Jackson, Dr. Cyril, 161.         Mackenzie, 44, 45, 46.




INDEX  TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.                  341
Mackintosh, Sir James, 48, 49,    North, Lord, 63, 78, 83, 248.
85, 194, 195, 196, 204, 251,    Northcote, 21.
271, 276, 283.
Macleane, 38.                      O'COIGLY, 48.
Macready, 285.                     Ogle, 69.
Mall, The, 11.                     Oglethorpe, 10.
Malmesbury, Lord, 128.             Orde, Mrs., 216.
Malone, 79, 270.                   Ottley, 158.
Maltby, 9, 17, 108.
Malthus, 194.                      PAINTERS, living, 155.
Mansel, 39.                        Paley, 91, 117.
Manzoni, 257.                      Pamela (Lady Edward FitzgeMarivaux, 47, 48.                    raid,) 67, 80.
Marlay, 175, 176.                  Panshanger, pictures at, 153.
Marmontel, 81, 121.                Parr, 48, 49, 62,63.
Martindale, 190.                   Pascal, 49.
Mary, Queen, 26.                   Pearson, 129.
Mason, 17, 35, 39.                 Peel, Sir Robert, 247, 248, 284,
Massinger, 90.                        289.
Matthias, 38, 133, 134, 135.       Pepys, Sir William Weller, 7.
Melbourne, Lord, 284.              Petrarch, 91.
Melville, Lady, 220, 221.          Piozzi, Mr. and Mrs., 16, 45.
Melville, Lord, 220.               Pitt, George (Lord Rivers), 54,
Metastasio, 90.                       55.
Mickle, 95.                        Pitt, William, 78, 79, 82, 109,
Middleton, 49, 172.                   110, 111, 112, 143.
Milton, 90, 128, 149, 150, 194,    Places given away by Govern221, 227.                          ment, 176.
Mitford, 137.                      Plays, new, 253.
Moliire, 49.                       Poole, 264.
Monboddo, Lord, 50.                Pope, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 38,
Monsey, 211, 212.                     91.
Montagu, Lady M. W., 39.           Porson, 79, 108, 134, 217, 218,
Moore, Sir John Henry, 46, 47.        219.
Moore, Thomas, 68, 69, 158, 160,   Portland, Duke of, 83.
221, 227, 228, 233, 276, 277,    Poussin, 155, 188.
278, 279, 280, 281, 282.         Praising children, 227.
Morris, 250.                       Price, Dr., 4, 5, 6, 7, 43, 106,
Murat, 274.                           152.
Murphy, 100, 101, 106, 107, 108.    Price, Major, 259, 260.
Price, Sir Uvedale, 75, 113, 114.
NAPLES, Queen of, 274.             Princesses,  the,  daughters of
Napoleon, 268, 269, 270. (See         George the Third, 261.
Beuonaparte.)                    Prior, 247.
Nash, 102.                         Priestley, 121, 122.
National Gallery, 153.             Pronunciation of Words, 248.
Nelson, Lord, 141, 142.
New publications, 199,             QUIN, 31.




342           INDEX  TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.
RACINE, 49, 222.                   Scott, Sir Walter, 69, 192, 193,
Racine, the younger, 222.            194, 206, 237, 247, 254, 256,
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 95.             280.
Ranelagh, 11.                      Scriptures, English  version of,
Raphael, 153, 154.                   220.
Rat, Lord Howth's, 167.            Seaforth, Lord, 220.
Rembrandt, 155.                    Segur, 104.
Rennell, 134.                      Selwyn, 201.
Revolution, the French, 176.       Shakespeare, 38, 92, 95, 149,
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 18, 19, 20,    150, 200, 219, 221, 281.
21, 22, 77, 86, 155.            Sharp, 1, 17, 130, 131, 195.
Richardson, Joseph, 64.            Shelburne, Lord, 121, 177.
Richardson, Samuel, 180.           Shelley, 235, 236.
Richmond, Duke of, 82.             Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 31,
Richmond, Duchess of, 240.           63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70,
Robertson, 43, 44, 45, 88.           71, 73, 78, 80, 118, 186, 190,
Robinson, Mrs., 142.                 193, 227.
Robinson Crusoe, 257.              Sheridan, Mrs., first wife of R. B.
Rochefoucauld, Duke de la, 41.       S., 71.
Rogers, Samuel:                    Sheridan, Mrs., second wife of
anecdotes of his childhood,        R. B. S., 230.
boyhood, youth, &., passim.    Sheridan, Mrs., mother of R. B.
his Scribbler, 11.                 S., 90.
his Ode to Superstition, 16.     Sheridan, Thomas, 49.
his Captivity, 16.               Siddons, Mrs., 58, 87, 109, 136,
his lines To the Gnat, 16.         151, 185, 186, 187, 200, 244.
his Pleasures of Memory, 17, 18.    Skeleton in the Church-porch, The,
his Human Life, 18, 173, 174,      164.
244.                          Smith, Adam, 43, 44, 45.
his Italy, 18.                   Smith, John, 214.
his Vintage of Burgundy, 18.     Smith, Robert, 181, 194.
his contribution to an article    Smith, Sydney, 286, 287, 288.
in The Edinburgh Review, 283.    Smith, William, 81, 82.
Romney, 63.                        Soame, 17.
Rose, 244, 255, 256.               Sonnet-writing, 207.
Roslin, Lady, 254.                 Sophocles, 92.
Rousseau, 105.                     Southey, 204, 205, 220, 222,289.
Rubens, 155.                       Spencer, Lady, 10.
Russell, Lord John, 289.           Spencer, Lord, 8, 54.
Russell, Thomas, 170, 171.         Spencer, Lord Robert, 162.
Rutland, Duke of, 245.             Spencer, William, 218, 277.
Rutland, Duchess of, 245.          Spenser, Edmund, 205.
St. John, 113.
Stael, Madame de, 232, 250, 251.
SACCHII, 86.                       Standard novels, 138.
Sargent, 56.                       Stanhope, Lady Hester, 253.
Salisbury, Lady, 249, 250.         Stanley, Lord, 289.
Sallust, 181.                      Steevens, 134.




INDEX  TO THE RECOLLECTIONS.                343
Stella, Swift's, 172.             WlAIKEFIELD, 134, 140, 141.
Sterne, 114.                      Wales, Prince of, 52, 53, 141,
Stone, John, 80.                     142, 161, 191, 260, 264, 265
Stone, William, 144, 145, 146,      266.  (See George the Fourth.)
147, 148, 149.                  Wales, Princess of, 261, 262, 263.
Stothard, 110.                       (See Caroline, Queen.)
Stowell, Lord, 142, 143.          Walpole, 134.
Sueur, Le, 86.                    Warburton, 26.
Surrey, Lord, 95.                 Ward, 151. (See Dudley, Lord.)
Sutherland, Duchess-Countess of,   Warton, Joseph, 133.
262.                            Warton, Thomas, 133, 134.
Swift, 50.                        Washington, 172.
Sylph, The, 190.                  Webb, 56.
TACITUS, 181.                     Wellington, Duke of, 82, 268,
Talleyrand, 80, 253, 268, 269,      288, 89, 290.
270.                            Wesley, 120.
Tankerville, Lord, 73, 198.       West, Richard, 38, 39.
Tarleton, 248.                    West, Benjamin, 208.
Temple-Bar, rebels' heads on, 2.   Wewitzer, 65.
Thanet, Lord, 162.                Whyte, Lydia, 70.
Thurlow, Lord Chancellor, 52,    Wilberforce, 82, 112.
53, 56.                         Wilkes, 42, 233.
Thurlow, Edward Lord, 279.        William the Third, 26, 172.
Tickell, Richard, 63, 64, 71, 72.    William the Fourth, 260. (See
Tickell, Thomas, 96.                 Clarence, Duke of.)
Tierney, 82.                      Williams, Helen Maria, 50.
Tight lacing of the ladies, 23.   Wilson, 153.
Tooke, 56, 81, 122, 123, 124,    Windham, 75, 86, 96, 164.
125, 126, 127, 128, 129.        Winter in London, A, 191.
Topham, 58.                       Wolcot, 139.
Townley, 182, 183.                Woodfall, 271.
Townshend, Lord John, 65.         Words twisted, &c., 43.
Tree, Miss (Mrs. Bradshaw), 276.    Wordsworth, William, 37, 88,
Trelawney, 235, 236.                 138, 150, 170, 203, 204, 205,
Trotter, 97.                        206, 207, 222, 282.
Turner, 155.                      Wordsworth, Miss, 205, 206.
Turton, 129.                       World, The, 96.
UMBRELIAS, 40.                    YORs, Duke of, 53, 66, 161, 162,
Usher, 207.                          265, 266.
York, Duchess of, 162, 163, 164.
VERNON, 132.                      Young, 34.
Virgil, 94, 205.                  Youth always appearing beautiVoltaire, 44, 48, 75, 91.           ful to the old, 138.








INDEX TO PORSONIANA.
ASH, 304.                         HEATHCOTE, 301.
Herbert, 323.
BABINGTON, 333.                   Holland, Lord, 318.
Baker, Sir George, 296.           Holmes, 321.
Banks, 303, 317, 318, 321.        Hoppner, 298, 299.
Barker, 315.                      Horsley, 314.
Bentley, 322.
Bryant, 303.                      JENNINGS, 304.
Burgess, 321.                     Johnson, 326.
Burney, 307, 315, 316.
Byron, Lord, 330.                KIDD, 321.
CARTER, Mrs., 326.                LARCHER, 322.
Cogan, 300.
Coray, 322.                       MACKINTOSH, Sir James, 318.
Cumberland, 314.                  Maltby, William, passim.
Maltby, Bishop, 304, 323.
DAVY, 317, 338.                  -Maltby, Mr. brother to the BishDouglas, 303.                       op, 299, 319.
Markland, 322.
EGERTON, 302.                     Matthias, 321.
Elgin, Lord, 320.                 Musgrave, 326.
Fox, 318.                         PALEY, 304.
Parr, 313, 314, 315.
GIBBON, 302, 303.                Pearson, 322.
Goodall, 296.                    Perry, 320.
Gosset, 326'                     Porson, Richard, passim.
Gurney, 300, 301.                Porteus, 321.




346               INDEX TO PORSONIANA.
Postlethwaite, 308, 309.          Stephens, 326.
Pretyman (afterwards Tomline),
319.                            TAYLOR, 323.
Priestley, 314.                   Tooke, 297, 298, 314.
Tyrwhitt, 322.
RAINE, 301, 317. 
Rogers, 318, 319.                 VILLOISON 320.
SHEFFIELD, Lord, 329.
Shipley, 296.                     WAKEFIELD, 316, 317.
Southey, 330.                     Wilkes, 329.
THE END.




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(From the N.;Y Evening Post.)
The work is professedly intended for that numerous class who cannot afford to build
expensively. The design is well carried out. We have here some two dozen cottages and
farm houses, of various size, accommodation, and style, ranging, in estimated cost, from
$600 to $3,000. These humble elevations are, for the most part, simple and graceful;
tastefully set off with accompaniments of shrub and tree, and show how beautiful rural
cottages may and ought to become.
The floor plans and sections show that the attention given to the internal arrangements
have been most careful and judicious. To make communication easy between the rooms,
and yet to insure privacy and seclusion, to facilitate the work of a household with few or
no servants, to make the little abode pleasant to its inmates and inviting to fiiends, is
the evident, and, we think, the successful intent of the authors. Working pTans and printed
specifications for each house can be had at a trifling cost, upon application to the architects.
This is a novel feature in architectural publications, and a very judicious one.
The book contains many useful remarks and truly practical hints. Any person about
to build may read with profit the sections on the choice of a lot, on the adoption of a plan, on
painting, on our forest timbers, and on the application of principles to details.
II.
The Attache in Madrid;
OR, SKETCHES OF THE COURT OF ISABELLA II.
1 vol. 12mo.  368 pages.  $1.
"It is believed that there is no other book in our language which presents so good a picture of Spain and the Spaniards as this does. The author possesses the necessary qualifications for the production of such a work. The Spaniards are a proud people-proud of
their country and history-proud of their traditions and poetry-proud of their old romances
and chivalry-prcud of their churches and their religion-and proud of their manners and
habits. With such a nation the Attache could feel a deep and sincere sympathy. He was not
so materialistic as to be haunted by the ghost of a ten-cent-piece in the Palace of the Escurial.
He saw every thing, from the private levee to the public bull-fight; from the moonlight
dance of Manolas to the regal balls of the Duchess d'Alva; from the needle-work of the
Spanish maiden to the glorious paintings of Titian, Velasquez, and Murillo; and he has put
upon paper all that was worthy of record, which came under his notice. But this is not all.
Ile has given us a kind of political history of modern Spain. His book will make Spanish
politics, and Spanish partisanship, as familiar to the American reader as the conchology of his
own " -Hards" and " Softs." The account given of M. Soule's diplomacy, of his heroism, is not
the least interesting chapter in the work; and the description of the Revolution of 1848,
and of the flight of Queen Christina and of the SanlLuis Cabinet, is graphic, instructive, and
interesting.
" It is evident that the relations of the author at the Span'sh Court were at once delicate
and intimate."




D. APPLETON c CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
LIGHT LITERLATURE, BY LADIES OF TALENTo
1.
Juno Clifford.
A TALE,
BY A LADY.
I  vol. 12mo., cloth, with  two  plates, $1,25.
(From the Evening Travceller.)
This is a work of more than ordinary ability and interest. In its conception the plan Is
certainly original.
(Fron thle X.. E. Farmnze.)
The unfolding of the plot, and the delineation of the characters, evince talents of a high
order; and it is evident that the authoress possesses a good degree of skill, if not experience
in this department of literature. We think her work will rank above the common run of
novels.
(Frons the New tHanven Palladium.)
This is one of the most fascinating books of the season, and will doubtless find many
admirers. It is a story of American life, and most of the scenes are laid in Boston and
New York. The characters are painted in vivid colors; the proud and stately heroine, to
whom no more fitting name than Juno could have been applied; her adopted son, Little
Sunbeam and Grace Atherton will not soon be forgotten. The style is beautiful and the interest quite absorbing.
(Fromt  the True tFlag.)
The conceptions of character in "Juno Clifford" are almost unequalled by any
American woman, and the plot has a straightforward intensity and directness rarely found
in a woman's book. The death scenes are inimitable, and the love passages are no sickly
sentimentalism, but the utterance of that holy passion which outlives time and death.
II.
LIGHT AND DARKNESS
OR THE
Shadow of Fate.
A STORY OF FASHIONABLE LIFE,
BY A LADY.
1 vol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cts.
(From the N. Y. Dispatc7.)
This is a pleasant and graphic story, the scenes of which are laid in the city of New
York. The light and dark, or the good and bad, of fashionable life are vividly intermingled, and described by a fertile and glowing pen, with much talent and skill.
(From the Philadephia City Item.)
The whole work is so complete, finished and artistic, that we cannot but anticipate a
brilliant and successful career for the writer, if she will devote herself faithfully to the higl,
and influential department of art in which she has made so triumphant a debut.
(From Godey's Lady's B2ook.)
Iler creations are all life-like; her scenes natural; her personages such as one meets
every day in the haunts of fashion or domestic life. We read her story believingly, and remember the characters afterwards as old acquaintalces. To produce such an effect upon
ourself is to give assurance of an accomplished artist. May this author live to write many
stories not only of fashionable, but of all sorts of life, and may we have them to read.