there was
comradeship in it, and comradeship was what he prayed for. His wife did
not comprehend that delicate, spiritual quality of his heart: that
craving for sympathy which came after he had given out so much. He wanted
peace, quiet and rest; but she wished to take him forth and exhibit him to
the throng. Yet all of her admonitions that he "brace up" were in vain.
His work was done. He foresaw the end, and grew impatient that it did not
come. Placid, resigned, sane to the last hour, he passed away at Holland
House, June Seventeenth, Seventeen Hundred Nineteen, aged forty-seven. His
body, lying in state, was viewed by more than ten thousand people, and
then it was laid to rest in the Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey.

ROBERT SOUTHEY

Let no man write
Thy epitaph, Emmett; thou shalt not go
Without thy funeral strain! O young and good,
And wise, though erring here, thou shalt not go
Unhonored or unsung. And better thus
Beneath that undiscriminating stroke,
Better to fall, than to have lived to mourn,
As sure thou wouldst, in misery and remorse,
Thine own disastrous triumph * * * *
How happier thus, in that heroic mood
That takes away the sting of death, to die,
By all the good and all the wise forgiven!
Yea, in all ages by the wise and good
To be remembered, mourned, and honored still!
--_Southey to Robert Emmett_

[Illustration: ROBERT SOUTHEY]

Most generally, when I travel, I go alone--this to insure being in good
company. To travel with another is a terrible risk: it puts a great strain
on the affections.

I once made the tour of Scotland with a man who was traveling for his
health. He had kidney-trouble belief. I had known the man in a casual way
for several years, and we started out the best of friends, anticipating a
good time. We were gone three weeks, and when we got back I hated the
fellow thoroughly, and I have every reason to believe that he fully
reciprocated the sentiment.

And yet he was an honest man, and I am, too, although not an extremist.
There was nothing to quarrel about; it began at Euston Station, where I
bought third-class tickets. He said he preferred to ride first-class, or
second, at least--there was such a thing as false economy.

I asked him why he had not said something along this line before I had
purchased the tickets.

He retorted that I had not consulted