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 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 his preference in the matter. I brought in a mild rejoinder by moving the previous question, and showing that he, himself, had proposed that I should take entire charge of the arrangements, using my own good judgment at all times. He said something about his error in supposing he was traveling with a discerning person. Just then the guard came along, slamming the doors, and we were pushed into a third-class carriage, where we enjoyed an all-day journey together. At Edinburgh my companion wished to ascend the Scott monument, visit a friend at the University, and buy a plaid rug at one of the shops in Princess Street; while I proposed to look up the footprints of Bobbie Burns and John Knox. He said, "Confound John Knox!" I answered, "You evidently think I am referring to Knox the Hatter!" He grew mad as a hatter, and I had to defend John Knox, and later had to do the same for Rab and his friends, as well as for Christopher North.