The Palace and Park by Phillips, Forbes, Latham, Owen, Scharf, and Shenton

[Born at Newington Green, near London, 1762. Still living.] A classic inheritance from the entombed past. The living poet who carried his first production with a trembling hand to Dr. Johnson’s house in Bolt Court, Fleet Street, and could not find heart to wait for an answer to his summons when he had knocked at the door; who listened with delight and instruction to the lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds; and who still remembers and relates how, when his father took him to see Garrick act, he himself punished his boyish impatience by closing his eyes for a moment, as the great actor was coming on to the stage. It is nearly seventy years since Samuel Rogers published his first poem, and he was then a man. He is the Addison of verse. Grace, elegance, delicacy, softness, are the characteristics of his poetry. He does not astonish by power, nor thrill by burning passion; but he soothes, gratifies, and charms all who are susceptible of consolation and pleasure from polished and complete works of art. His taste is refined and classical, and all his works have the finish which such taste will require of the artist possessing it. The rhythm of his poetry partakes of the character of the sentiment: all is chaste, smooth, refined, and clear. The descriptions in “Italy” of Italian life and scenery are very beautiful, and his reflections are at all times pure and elevating. For so long a life, Mr. Rogers has written very little; but his works are gems, and have been heightened and improved by labour until scrupulous thought can do for them nothing more. All poets since the century began have acknowledged Rogers for a master; and his conscientiousness, purity, and refinement, fit him for a teacher. He has outlived not only his illustrious contemporaries, but the great poets who were unborn when he had reached his prime. The patriarch, in his long protracted nightfall, still gladdens his memory with the visions of the past, looking with placid hope towards his all but present future. [By W. Behnes.]