en nothing but his longer poems, the comparison
above made with Rogers would be wholly, instead of partly, justified.
Although both still retain a sort of conventional respect, it is
impossible to call either the _Pleasures of Hope_ or _Gertrude of
Wyoming_ very good poetry, while enough has been said of their
successors. Nor can very high praise be given to most of the minor
pieces. But the three splendid war-songs above named--the equals, if not
the superiors, of anything of the kind in English, and therefore in any
language--set him in a position from which he is never likely to be
ousted. In a handful of others--"Lochiel," the exquisite lines on "A
Deserted Garden in Argyleshire," with, for some flashes at least, the
rather over-famed "Exile of Erin," "Lord Ullin's Daughter," and a few
more--he also displays very high, though rather unequal and by no means
unalloyed, poetical faculty; and "The Last Man," which, by the way, is
the latest of his good things, is not the least. But his best work will
go into a very small compass: a single octavo sheet would very nearly
hold it, and it was almost all written before he was thirty. He is thus
an instance of a kind of poet, not by any means rare in literature, but
also not very common, who appears to have a faculty distinct in class
but not great in volume, who can do certain things better than almost
anybody else, but cannot do them very often, and is not quite to be
trusted to do them with complete sureness of touch. For it is to be
noted that even in Campbell's greatest things there are distinct
blemishes, and that these blemishes are greatest in that which in its
best parts reaches the highest level--"The Battle of the Baltic." Many
third and some tenth rate poets would never have left in their work such
things as "The might of England flushed _To anticipate the scene_,"
which is half fustian and half nonsense: no very great poet could
possibly have been guilty of it. Yet for all this Campbell holds, as has
been said, the place of best singer of war in a race and language which
are those of the best singers and not the worst fighters in the history
of the world--in the race of Nelson and the language of Shakespeare. Not
easily shall a man win higher praise than this.

In politics, as well as in a certain general kind of literary attitude
and school, another Thomas, Moore, classes himself both historically and
naturally with Rogers and Campbell; but he was a very much bet