ET. 66-7.] WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 469 "Six days were next consumed in the arrangement of his household property-inventories*-taxes on books and furniture, brought from London at great trouble and expense. Every debt was fully and finally paid; and in all transactions with the government authorities-in reducing one or two extravagant demands-obviating numerous difficulties-and facilitating every measure which the circumstances required-the Poet's executors were under many obligations to the kindness and liberality of Mr. Hamilton, the British Consul. To Mons. Adam the Mayor, Mons. Dutertre, and other officers, their thanks are emi nently due; while of the British residents it need only be added, that several did themselves honor by many private tokens of respect and admiration for the deceased Poet. In the Boulogne paper, a glowing panegyric appeared on his character as a man and a patriot; and in the Paris and provincial press noble tributes were offered to his memory as the Poet of Freedom, and the friend of the human race.' On Thursday June 27th, arrangements were made to have the coffin embarked for London; and accordingly, at midnight, attended by the Consul and a few admiring friends and sympathizers, it was taken from the Poet's late residence to the pier in a hearse, and put on board the "City of London" steamer for England. Mr. Sempill, of Boulogne, very kindly undertook the duty of attending the poet's remains to London. Next day, at seven o'clock in the evening, my co-executor, Mr. W. Moxon, and I met Mr. Sempill and the Poet's nephew at the London Bridge wharf, where the melancholy task was transferred to us. The same evening the body was conveyed in a hearse to the house of the undertaker for the night; and next day it was removed to a chapel near the Jerusalem Chamber in Westminster Abbey, where it remained till the morning of the Funeral. * * * * * "July 3d, Wednesday.-The Executors began to receive the company about ten o'clock, and before noon the Jerusalem Chamber was quite full. Many had come from distant parts of the country to witness the ceremony; and it was pleasing to observe men of all political creeds, in every department of Government, in all gradations of rank and intellect, cordially unit *As all these inventories had to be given in to the proper officers, estimated, and paid for accordingly, it was a very tedious and painful operation. ing to pay the last offices of friendship and admiration to a great Poet. The day was fine, the funeral arrangements were made on a liberal scale, all the company appeared in mourning, and nothing was wanting to render the spectacle deeply solemn and impressive. Among the early arrivals were the Duke of Argyll; Mr. Richardson, the oldest friend of the Poet then present; the Premier, Sir Robert Peel; Viscount Strangford; Mr. J. G. Lockhart; Lord Aberdeen; Rt. Hon. T. B. Macaulay; Lord Brougham; a guard of Polish nobles; Lord Dudley C. Stuart; Campbell of Islay; Lord Leigh; Colonel Szyrma; Lord Campbell; with a numerous body of private friends and admirers. Never, since the death of Addison, it was remarked, had the obsequies of any literary man been attended by circumstances more honorable to the national feeling, and more expressive of cordial respect and homage, than those of Thomas Campbell. 66 Soon after noon the procession began to move from the Jerusalem Chamber to the Poet's Corner, and in a few minutes passed slowly down the long, lofty aisle 'Thro' breathing statues, then unheeded things; Thro' rows of warriors, and thro' walks of kings.' "On each side the pillared avenues were lined with spectators, all watching the solemn pageant in reverential silence, and mostly in deep mourning. The Rev. Henry Milman, himself an eminent poet, headed the procession; while the service for the dead, answered by the deep-toned organ in sounds like distant thunder, produced an effect of indescribable solemnity.* One only feeling seemed to pervade the assembled spectators, and was visible on every face-a desire to express their sympathy in a manner suitable to the occasion. He who had celebrated the glory and enjoyed the favor of his country for more than forty years, had come at last to take his appointed chamber in the Hall of Death'-to mingle ashes with those illustrious predecessors who, by steep and difficult paths, had attained a lofty eminence in her literature, and made a lasting impression on the national heart. "Can flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?' No; but it is soothing to all who love their country to observe the homage she decrees to posthumous merit. Tribute to departed * A circumstantial notice of the Funeral ceremony will be found in the APPENDIX. ET. 66-7.] WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 471 worth is her sacred guarantee to the living, that the claims of genius shall not be disregarded; that the path of honor is open to every aspiring son of the soil. The tombs of great men are eloquent monitors; and every nation that would impress and stimulate the minds of youth, by noble examples of literary and patriotic genius, will point to the tombs of her illustrious dead. The pleasing hope of being remembered, cherished, imitated when' dust returned to dust,' was always soothing to the mind of Campbell, whose aim was to 'deserve well of his country:' 'And is he dead whose glorious mind To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die!"-Hallowed Ground. THE CONCLUSION. LETTERS-ANECDOTES-EXTRACTS. Or the generous and kindly warmth of Campbell's domestic affections, even to the latest period of life, the following letters, addressed to his nephew and niece, but accidentally omitted in the text, are pleasing examples: * "61 LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, March, 1841. "MY DEAR ARCHIBALD, "I have just bought a pianoforte for Mary, which will reach you by the middle of next week. It is Broadwood's making. Mary will thus be able to practise at home, and to bring up the instrument when she comes to me on my return from the Continent. In the course of ten months hence, Mary, I trust, will have learnt the grammar of French pretty well. I am not impatient in her progress in that language, because I can complete her in it myself. As to her drawing, let her do just according to her own inclination. Only this I have to enjoin upon her mother and you, namely, not to allow her to be under an impression of mind, that I shall expect her to come to me learned and accomplished. Let her not, I say, study too much. I would rather that she were idle altogether, than that she should run the most distant chance of injuring her health by application. Robert's demise has filled me not more with grief than with dark apprehensions of possibilities. I trust they are only fanciful respecting your sister's constitution and your own. So take care what you do. Don't employ yourself too much; occupations that may be stooping, and confinement, affect the chest. * See this volume, p. 410. + Ibid. pp. 408-425. * "T. CAMPBELL." + Pages 400-1. ET. 63.] LETTER TO HIS NIECE MARY CAMPBELL. "MY DEAR NIECE, 473 "61 LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, April 12, 1841. "I trust that, in a few days after this letter reaches you, you will receive your pianoforte, on which, the first tune that I request you to practise is, 'The Campbells are coming!' in allusion to the prospect of your coming to live with me, when I return from Italy. Everybody tells me here that I shall spoil you; but I don't think there is much danger of that, because you have the character of having a solid mind, and have been bred up by a sensible mother. Besides, though I don't lead a dull and gloomy life, I live in nothing like dissipation. You will see or hear nothing to turn either your heart or your head. You shall have every opportunity for the cultivation of your mind, provided I see you studying and reading no more than is consistent with the most perfect state of your bodily health; plenty of indulgence in the pianoforte, if you like it, for that can never hurt you; but no stooping over books or pictures, nor reading aloud, till I am rid of all fear about the delicacy of your chest; plenty of exercise in fine weather; and plenty of cheerful company and conversation, especially with the better part of your own sex. I wish you to write to me sometimes. Don't write me flattering letters about your gratitude, for that gratitude is all by anticipation. Let it be proved first that I have done my duty, and then you may thank me. Write to me as you would speak to me-simply and naturally-for studied letters are never good. Do not be afraid of me as a critic, and study only your own health-not to come to me accomplished and wise beyond your years. Take pains-always avoiding the application that may hurt your chest-to write a bold, square, regular hand. I had by nature a bad hand of writing; not a scullion nor an ostler's boy ever wrote a worse hand than I did; but, by pains and perseverance, I now write so far well, that I can look without displeasure on my own MSS. "Give my love to your mother and your brother. Tell your mother not to grieve at the prospect of eight months hence trusting her daughter to me. I will be your sponsor that you shall never forget your mother, nor think of her with less lively affection than at present. You will never cease to think of her with gratitude. The very act of her trusting you to me, will be a proof of her magnanimity. She is the fondest of mothersyet she has the fortitude to part with you, because she foresees |