eminence which renders the death of an individual a loss to the community. Thus far James Grahame was, perhaps, the only member whose loss had occasioned universal regret; the next on the fatal list was Francis Horner, whose short-lived but well-employed talents require no eulogy in this place; but, as one of Campbell's warmhearted friends, his name is entitled to a brief and grateful notice. Having fallen into bad health, he was advised to try the influence of a milder climate, and spent the winter at Pisa; but the experiment sadly failed. He died in the prime of life, and in the full vigour of intellect; and in the English cemetery at Leghorn, close to that of Smollett, is the tomb of the amiable and eloquent Francis Horner. To Campbell this event was a source of real sorrow. In a letter to his sister, he says "I have got on with a poem to the memory of Horner, which relieves my mind from a task which I feared would be irksome. It seemed a formidable difficulty to get the imagination afloat on the subject of a great moral hero, who, with all his thorough excellence, had his chief reputation founded on his war against the Bank Restrictions, and his pre-eminence in the Bullion Committee. Nevertheless, the heart and intellect of Horner have afforded me better inspiration than I looked for. I have finished about seventy lines.-T. C.”

Of the seventy lines here mentioned, fourteen only have been found-they are these:

Ye who have wept, and felt, and summed the whole
Of Virtue's loss in Horner's parted soul,

I speak to you; though words can ill pourtray
The extinguished light, the blessing swept away,
The soul high-graced to plead-high-skilled to plan,

For human welfare gone, and lost to man!
This weight of truth subdues my power of song,
And gives a faltering voice to feelings strong!

ET. 39.] MONODY ON HORNER-THE POET CRABBE.

But I should ill acquit the debt I feel
To private friendship and to public zeal,

Were my heart's tribute not with theirs to blend,
Who loved, most intimate, their country's friend!
Or if the Muse, to whom his living breath

Gave pride and comfort, mourned him not in death!

329

T. C.

In the "pride and comfort" so delicately alluded to, the Poet bears grateful testimony to the active part taken by Mr. Horner in smoothing the way for him on his first settlement in London. This co-operation has been already noticed in his correspondence with Mr. Richardson; but it is pleasing to observe that, in Campbell's mind, the remembrance of a kindness, in word or deed, was as warm as it was lasting. Although but a fragment of the Monody has been recovered, there is good reason to believe that it was finished. It was read at Holland House, as he has told us, though "not approved ;"+ and from his often adverting to it in his subsequent correspondence, he appears conscious of having done justice to the memory of his friend.

One of the most agreeable reminiscences of this spring was the commencement of his acquaintance with "Nature's sternest painter, yet the best," which is thus recorded:

"The first time I met Crabbe was at Holland House, where he, Tom Moore, and myself, lounged the better part of a day about the Park and Library ; and I can answer for one of the party, at least, being very much pleased with it. Our conversation was about novelists. Your father

* See Quarto Edition of Poems, Vol. I. 1802-3-4.

+ "None but the Holland family have seen the sketch of the Monody. At Lady H.'s earnest desire I showed it to her; and will you believe it? the illiberality of your Liberal party is such, that I saw I had given a little umbrage at Holland House, by one line in praise of Canning's eloquence, who, so nobly, for an antagonist, passed an eulogy on Horner. But that line shall stand!-T. C."

This letter is addressed to his son, the Editor of his Works.

was a strong Fieldingite, and I as sturdy a Smollettite. His mildness in literary argument struck me with surprise in so stern a painter of nature; and I could not but contrast the unassumingness of his manners with the originality of his powers. In what may be called the ready-money smalltalk of conversation, his facility might not, perhaps, seem equal to the known calibre of his talents; but in the progress of conversation I recollect remarking that there was a vigilant shrewdness that almost eluded you, by keeping its watch so quietly. Though an oldish man when I saw him, he was a laudator temporis acti,' but a decided lover of later times. The part of the morning which I spent with him and Tom Moore was to me, at least, of memorable agreeableness. T. C."

The following letter is addressed to the venerable Poet himself:

"SYDENHAM, July, 1817.

"I sent an apology to Lady H. for not being able to dine at Holland House to-day; and that very moment I felt that I owed also an apology to you for not testifying, by my acceptance of the invitation, the high value which I attached to an opportunity of meeting you. It was, indeed, an indispensable engagement that kept me; otherwise it would have been a humiliating self-reflection to have neglected such an occasion of being in the company of Crabbe. You thought me an old man ;* but, in addressing you, my dear sir, I feel myself younger than even the difference of our years might seem to justify. I have a very youthful feeling of respect; nay, if you will pardon me for the liberty of saying so I have something of a filial upward-looking affection for your matured genius and patriarchal reputation. This reverence for your classic name would have been equally strong in my mind, if I had not been so fortunate as to form an acquaint

Calculating from the time [1738] when Campbell published his " Pleasures of Hope."

ET. 39.]

LETTER TO CRABBE-KEMBLE FESTIVAL.

331

ance with you, which your kind manners have made a proud era in the little history of my life. That time, and that spot-in the library of Holland House-I shall never forget, when you shook me a second time by the hand. It must be one of the most enviable privileges of your senior and superior merit to confer pleasure on such men as myself, by recognising them as younger brothers of your vocation. One token of your kindness was a promise to give me a day of your society. I would not be importunate on this head; but I cannot help reminding you of it, and assuring you that Mrs. Campbell has a very proper sympathy with me, in the enthusiasm which I feel to have the honour of your presence under my own roof. Our excellent friend, Mr. Rogers, I trust, will accompany you you will have the goodness to fix the day.

if

T. C."

The day was accordingly fixed; but in the mean time—his attention being drawn to another subject— Campbell tells his sister that," in the midst of his printed sheets of prose he was preparing some verses for the festival in honour of John Kemble." The day was at hand; and the verses-which, he had been told, would come with peculiar grace from one who, during fifteen years, had enjoyed the friendship of "the Siddons" and Kembles were ready for the occasion. A note from the secretary of the committee was addressed to Campbell in these words:

"June 24. I am desired by the gentlemen of the committee to return you their sincere thanks for the permission you have so kindly given them, of printing your beautiful Ode; but they concur in the opinion that it ought not to be distributed at the dinner. It is hardly necessary, I presume, to inform you that your health will be proposed; but, for fear it should not have occurred to you that our gratitude would eagerly seize the only opportunity it may probably ever have, of paying you this feeble tribute of respect and admiration, I take the liberty of mentioning our intention that you may not be unprepared for it. C. K."

On the 27th of June the festival was duly celebrated at Freemason's Hall; and never, perhaps, was any testimony of public favour more emphatically expressed. In rendering homage to John P. Kemble, all political bias was forgotten. Cordial unanimity influenced the assembly; and if the representatives of native genius ever met to do honour to an individual, it was on this memorable occasion. To enter into the particulars of the festival more fully than its connection with the Poet's history may warrant, will not, perhaps, be expected; but an extract from the poem itself cannot fail to gratify the reader.

"Pride of the British stage,

A long and last adieu!

Whose image brought the heroic age
Revived to Fancy's view!

Like fields refreshed with dewy light,
When the sun smiles its last,

Thy parting presence makes more bright
The memory of the past:

And memory conjures feelings up,

That wine or music need not swell,
As high we raise the festal cup,

TO KEMBLE-fare thee well! . . .”

'And there was many an hour
Of blended kindred fame,
When Siddons's auxiliar power

And sister magic came.
Together at the Muse's side

The tragic paragons had grown

They were the children of her pride,
The columns of her throne;

And undivided favour ran

From heart to heart in their applause,

Save for the gallantry of man

In lovelier woman's cause." &c.-POEMS, p. 124.

On the 4th of July, as previously arranged, Campbell had the pleasure of entertaining Mr. Crabbe at Sydenham;