when we see folly or bigotry reviving and putting forth fresh offshoots, do we long for one of his racy pamphlets or pithy letters! Oh, for one hour of Peter Plymley! What a subject for his pen would be the intolerance of the Sabbatarian party, the call for new bishops as the one thing needful in India, the cry for the simultaneous conversion and extermination of the Hindoo race, or the new-fangled commercial system in which accommodation bills and paper money were to perform all the functions of capital. When we turn from such spectacles, and wish to think better of the world, we remember our great, wise, and benevolent friend, Sydney Smith. 60 SAMUEL ROGERS. (FROM THE Edinburgh Review, July, 1856.) Recollections of the Table Talk of SAMUEL ROGERS; to which is added Porsoniana. London: 1856. FOR more than half a century a small house in a quiet nook of London has been the recognised abode of taste, and the envied resort of wit, beauty, learning, and genius. There, surrounded by the choicest treasures of art, and in a light reflected from Guidos and Titians, have sat and mingled in familiar converse the most eminent poets, painters, actors, artists, critics, travellers, historians, warriors, orators, and statesmen of two generations. Under that roof celebrities of all sorts, matured or budding, and however contrasted in genius or pursuit, met as on the table land where (according to D'Alembert) Archimedes and Homer may stand on a perfect footing of equality. The man of mind was introduced to the man of action, and modest merit which had yet its laurels to win, was first brought acquainted with the patron who was to push its fortunes, or with the hero whose name sounded like a trumpet tone. It was in that dining-room that Erskine told the story of his first brief, and Grattan that of his last duel: that the "Iron Duke" described Waterloo as a "battle of giants:" that Chantrey, placing his hand on a mahogany pedestal, said, "Mr. Rogers, do you remember a workman at five shillings a day who came in at that door to receive your orders for this work? I was that workman." It was there, too, that Byron's intimacy with Moore commenced over the famous mess of potatoes and vinegar: that Madame de Staël, after a triumphant argument with Mackintosh, was (as recorded by Byron) "well ironed" by Sheridan: that Sydney Smith, at dinner with Walter Scott, Campbell, Moore, Wordsworth and Washington Irving, declared that he and Irving, if the only prose-writers, were not the only prosers in the company. It was through that window, opening to the floor and leading through the garden to the Park, that the host started with Sheridan's gifted grand-daughter on "The Winter's Walk" which she has so gracefully and feelingly commemorated. It was in the library above, that Wordsworth, holding up the original contract for the copyright of "Paradise Lost" (1600 copies for 57.), proved to his own entire satisfaction that solid fame was in an inverse ratio to popularity; whilst Coleridge, with his finger upon the parchment deed by which Dryden agreed for the translation of the Æneid, expatiated on the advantages which would have accrued to literature, if "glorious John" had selected the Iliad and left Virgil to Pope. Whilst these and similar scenes are passing, we can fancy the host murmuring his well-known lines: "Be mine to listen; pleased but not elate, This house, rich as it was in varied associations, was only completed in 1801 or 1802; but the late owner's intimacy with men and women of note goes back to a long antecedent period. He had been, some years before, proposed at Johnson's club-the club, as it is denominated still-by Fox, seconded by Windham, and (as he fully believed) black-balled by Malone. He had met Condorcet at Lafayette's table in 1789. In the course of a single Sunday at Edinburgh in the same eventful year, he had breakfasted with Robertson, heard him preach in the forenoon and Blair in the afternoon, drank tea with the Piozzis, and supped with Adam Smith. There is surely something more in this position, than the extraordinary prolongation of human life, or than its utility as a connecting link between two or three generations, the point of view in which hitherto it has been almost exclusively considered. It leads naturally and necessarily to reflections on the state of our society, especially in relation to the literary, artistic, and intellectual elements, during the last seventy years; and we feel eager to profit by the experience and sagacity of a nonogenarian who had enjoyed such ample opportunities for appreciating mankind. Fortunately Mr. Rogers's mental habits and tendencies strongly disposed and qualified him for turning his length of years to good account. His writings teem with maxims of worldly wisdom, enforced or illustrated by remarkable incidents, and his conversation was replete with anecdotes selected for the sake of the light they threw on manners, the trains of thought they suggested, or the moral they involved. What has been printed of his "table talk" is very far from being in keeping with his character, or on a par with his fame. Indeed, those who form their opinion from such records as the volume before us may be excused for attributing the assiduous court paid him to the caprice of fashion; whilst others, with better materials for judgment, will haply account for the phenomenon by the felicitous combination of long life, ample means, cultivated taste, refined hospitality, and poetic celebrity in one man. Whichever party, the detractors or the admirers, may turn out right, the critical analysis of his life and writings which must precede any honest attempt to adjudicate upon his reputation, cannot fail to be highly instructive; nor will it be found wanting in the leading attractions of literary biography. We, therefore, propose to review the principal incidents and performances of a life extending over ninety-two of the most exciting and eventful years of the world's history. Samuel Rogers was born at Newington Green, on the 30th July, 1763. He was one of a family of six children, three sons and three daughters; he was the third son. The father was an opulent banker, head of the firm of Rogers, Olding, and Co., in Freeman's Court, Cornhill. In 1811 the business was transferred to 29, Clement's Lane, Lombard Street, where it is now carried on (1856), under the name of Olding, Sharpe, and Co. Prior to his marriage, he was a member of the Church of England; but the influence of his wife speedily effected his conversion to her own creed, the Unitarian; and by the time Samuel was old enough to understand or be moved by such things, the whole family were in regular attendance on the ministry of the celebrated Dr. Price, the adversary of Burke. The relative importance of the principal dissenting bodies has undergone so sensible a diminution of late years, that it may be difficult for the present generation to form a just estimate of the eminence and influence of the nonconformist community in question. Yet its annals are rich in literary illustration. The names of Defoe, Dr. Watts, Dr. Price, Dr. Rees, Mrs. Barbauld, and Dr. Aikin, with others by no means undistinguished, are indelibly associated with the congregation of Newington Green; which still flourishes under the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Cromwell (of the Protector's family), and still comprises most of the primitive and highly respectable connexions of the bankerpoet. He was undeniably indebted to his Dissenting friends for his first introduction to celebrated people in England, Scotland, and France; nor was the tie |