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ch of the principal masters being well represented. The library is the same, all recherche, and yet all in perfectly good taste. . . . . Mr. Rogers's conversation was in keeping with his establishment, full of the past,—anecdotes, facts, recollections in abundance,—and yet quite familiar with all that is now passing and doing in the world. All he says is marked by the good taste he shows in his works, and the perfected good sense which he has been almost a century in acquiring. . . . . July 10. The intervening days were busy ones, and included meetings with interesting persons, most of whom are, however, mentioned afterwards.—. . . . From two to four or five we were at a very agreeable private concert, given for the benefit of the poor Poles, by Mad. Filipowicz, who played marvellously on the violin herself. Tickets were kindly sent to us by Lady C. D., or we should have known nothing about it, and should have been sorry to have missed it, for a large number of the best sing<
clock. After the rest of the party were gone, Dr. Buckland carried us through the whole of the magnificence of his magnificent College in detail. . . . . We then took his written directions for a more cursory view of the rest of Oxford. The travellers reached London on the 4th of July, and the next morning, among other visits, Mr. Ticknor called on Mr. Samuel Rogers,—whom he calls the Doyen of English literature,— and promised to return in the evening and dine with him. Journal. July 5.—The dinner at Rogers's was truly agreeable; nobody present but Mr. Kenney, the author of the farce Raising the Wind. The house, as everybody knows, opens on the park near the old mall, which was the fashionable walk in Pope's time, and the place from which the beaux were to see the lock of Belinda's hair, when it should be changed into a constellation; his garden gate opening immediately upon the green grass, and his library and dining-room windows commanding a prospect of the whole of the<
ficient student. It was all very pleasant. The conversation was general, and such as suited a small party in such a place; but the whole, including a walk in the garden, was not protracted beyond half past 10 o'clock. After the rest of the party were gone, Dr. Buckland carried us through the whole of the magnificence of his magnificent College in detail. . . . . We then took his written directions for a more cursory view of the rest of Oxford. The travellers reached London on the 4th of July, and the next morning, among other visits, Mr. Ticknor called on Mr. Samuel Rogers,—whom he calls the Doyen of English literature,— and promised to return in the evening and dine with him. Journal. July 5.—The dinner at Rogers's was truly agreeable; nobody present but Mr. Kenney, the author of the farce Raising the Wind. The house, as everybody knows, opens on the park near the old mall, which was the fashionable walk in Pope's time, and the place from which the beaux were to see t<
e of the opinions and feelings of others. Mr. Gilbert's enthusiasm is more prompt and obvious than that of Dr. Chalmers, and it gratified me a good deal to hear him say, in the midst of the savants of Oxford, that Dr. Bowditch's La Place is the first work extant on Astronomy. But I think Dr. Buckland was accounted the pleasant talker of the party. . . . . We separated a little before eleven, having made an arrangement to breakfast with Dr. Buckland, who asked a small party to meet us. July 3.—We went to Dr. Buckland's at nine, and found there Dr. Chalmers, his wife and daughter, Dr. and Mrs. Burton, Mr. Lloyd, Professor of Political Economy, Dr. Barnes, Vice Dean of Christ Church, and one or two others. We breakfasted in Dr. Buckland's study, surrounded with the manuscripts of his Bridgewater Treatise, now in the press, organic remains of all sorts, and the books and paraphernalia of a hardwork-ing, efficient student. It was all very pleasant. The conversation was general,
ontinued so for a quarter of an hour, the pilot could not have seen his landmarks, and we should have been sent instantly on some of the many shoals around us, where, as we were told afterwards, the fury of the tempest would have made a total wreck of us in a very few moments. It was, therefore, a glad, very glad moment, when, after twenty-six hours buffeting with the spirit of this storm, we placed our feet once more on the firm-set earth, just at twelve o'clock, midday, of Thursday the 25th of June. Note by Mr. Ticknor: Even at the last moment, when all other danger was over, we were within two minutes of being entirely wrecked, from the circumstance that both the anchors got foul; but if the worst had happened here, no lives would have been lost. But for several days afterwards we continued to receive melancholy accounts of the disasters of others. Four fine vessels were lost, besides small craft; and among them a brig which we saw repeatedly during the day, and a very large sh
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