in that it was from those who were not aware that I was the
friend of Keats.

At the first Easter after his death I had a singular encounter with the
late venerable poet, Samuel Rogers, at the table of Sir George Beaumont,
the distinguished amateur artist. Perhaps in compliment to my friendship
for Keats, the subject of his death was mentioned by Sir George, and
he asked Mr. Rogers if he had been acquainted with the young poet in
England. Mr. Rogers replied, that he had had more acquaintance than he
liked, for the poems were tedious enough, and the author had come upon
him several times for money. This was an intolerable falsehood, and I
could not restrain myself until I had corrected him, which I did with my
utmost forbearance,--explaining that Sir. Rogers must have mistaken some
other person for Keats,--that I was positive my friend had never done
such a thing in any shape, or even had occasion to do it,--that he
possessed a small independence in money, and _a large one in mind_.

The old poet received the correction, with much kindness, and thanked
me for so effectually setting him right. Indeed, this encounter was the
groundwork of a long and to me advantageous friendship between us. I
soon discovered that it was the principle of his sarcastic wit not only
to sacrifice all truth to it, but even all his friends, and that he did
not care to know any who would not allow themselves to be abused for
the purpose of lighting up his breakfast with sparkling wit, though
not quite, indeed, at the expense of the persons then present. I well
remember, on one occasion afterwards, Mr. Rogers was entertaining
us with a volley of sarcasms upon a disagreeable lawyer, who made
pretensions to knowledge and standing not to be borne; on this occasion
the old poet went on, not only to the end of the breakfast, but to the
announcement of the very man himself on an accidental visit, and then,
with a bland smile and a cordial shake of the hand, he said to him,
"My dear fellow, we have all been talking about you up to this very
minute,"--and looking at his company still at table, and with a
significant wink, he, with extraordinary adroitness and experienced
tact, repeated many of the good things, reversing the meaning of them,
and giving us the enjoyment of the _double-entendre._ The visitor was
charmed, nor even dreamed of the ugliness of his position. This incident
gave me a painful and repugnant impression of Mr. Rogers, yet no doubt
it