LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
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Samuel Rogers and his Contemporaries
Edward Everett to Samuel Rogers, 24 December 1850

Vol. I Contents
Chapter I. 1803-1805.
Chapter II. 1805-1809.
Chapter III. 1810-1812.
Chapter IV. 1813-1814.
Chapter V. 1814-1815.
Chapter VI. 1815-1816.
Chapter VII. 1816-1818.
Chapter VIII. 1818-19.
Chapter IX. 1820-1821.
Chapter X. 1822-24.
Chapter XI. 1825-1827.
Vol. II Contents
Chapter I. 1828-1830.
Chapter II. 1831-34.
Chapter III. 1834-1837.
Chapter IV. 1838-41.
Chapter V. 1842-44.
Chapter VI. 1845-46.
Chapter VII. 1847-50.
Chapter VIII. 1850
Chapter IX. 1851.
Chapter X. 1852-55.
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‘Cambridge: 24th Dec., 1850.

‘My dear Mr. Rogers,—A thousand thanks for your kind letter of the 22nd November from Brighton. To know that you “are promoted from your bed to your chair,” from London to the seaside, and that you contemplate your remaining privations with serenity and cheerful acquiescence, is delightful. How I wish it were in my power to amuse occasionally one of your vacant hours! How I envy those who have the privilege of doing it! Mr. Prescott constantly speaks of the pleasure which he enjoyed in being admitted to your bedside. He has returned greatly improved in health, and in excellent spirits; and his friends are delighted to find that, in his case at least, the ill-natured adage, presentia minuit famam was not exemplified.

‘You are good enough to send your remembrance to all beneath my roof. You could not send it where it is more highly prized. I have been obliged, however, to speed it onward. My daughter (now, alas, my only daughter) has married and is living at Washington, where she is very agreeably settled. Her husband is an
officer in the Navy of the United States, the author of a sprightly book called “
Los Gringos,” of which I will try to send you a copy with this letter. He is at present attached to the United States Coast Survey, with a prospect of not being speedily ordered to sea. My oldest son got through College last summer, and is studying surgery; my second is to go to the University (or “go up,” as you say in England) next July, and my “youngest hope,” as you once called him, is at home, and going to an excellent day school. He will be next summer as well fitted for college as most boys of 17; but as he is yet but little over eleven, I shall, of course, not send him. His memory is truly wonderful. I mentioned to him the other day that, according to Mr. Fox, neither Homer nor Virgil speaks of the singing of birds. This, you recollect, is one of Mr. Fox’s sayings which you have treasured up. On my repeating it to Willy, he immediately said, “I think, Papa, that is an error as far as Virgil is concerned,” and quoted—
Et matutini volucrum sub culmine cantus.
It is very nearly two years since he read the eighth book of the
Æneid; and when he made the quotation—which was done instantaneously—his mind was on a totally different track: he was writing an article in his little commonplace book on the “Persian Lilac.”

‘I have had some slight thoughts of running over to England next spring, under the pretence of seeing the Exhibition, but mainly to see my dear English friends, whom I long to see once more with a desire “which passeth show.” I need not add that there is no one
among them whom I more wish to take again by the hand than yourself.

‘My wife joins me in affectionate regards. Your portrait, which hangs by our fireside, sheds its steady light on our little circle, and gives life to many a pleasant recollection.

‘Farewell, dear Mr. Rogers, and believe me, with sincere attachment, gratefully and ever yours,

Edward Everett.’