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troversial nature; but when, for the second time within a short course of years, the name of an obscure borough is brought before us as vacated by the loss of conspicuous talents and character,* it may be permitted to me, with my avowed and notorious opinions on the subject of Parliamentary Constitution, to state, without offence, that it is at least some consolation for the imputed theoretical defects of that constitution, that in practice it works so well. A system of representation cannot be wholly vicious, and altogether inadequate to its purposes, which sends to this House a succession of such men as those whom we have now in our remembrance, here to develope the talents with which God has endowed them, and to attain that eminence in the view of their country, from which they may be one day called to aid her counsels, and to sustain her greatness and her glory."

Mr MANNERS SUTTON." I know not whether I ought, even for a moment, to intrude myself on the House: I am utterly incapable of adding any thing to what has been so well, so feelingly, and so truly stated on this melancholy occasion; and yet I hope, without the appearance of presumption, I may be permitted to say, from the bottom of my heart, I share in every sentiment that has been expressed.

"It was my good fortune, some few years back, to live in habits of great intimacy and friendship with Mr Horner: change of circumstances, my quitting the profession to which we both belonged, broke in upon those habits of intercourse; but I hope and believe I may flatter myself the feeling was mutual. For myself, at least, I can most honestly say, that no change of circumstances-no difference of politics-no interruption to our habits of intercourse, even in the slightest degree diminished the respect, the regard, and the affection I most sincerely entertained for him.

"This House can well appreciate the heavy loss we have sustained in him as a public man. In these times, indeed in all times, so perfect a combination of commanding talents, indefa

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tigable industry, and stern integrity, must be a severe public loss; but no man, who has not had the happiness

the blessing, I might say-to have known him as a friend; who has not witnessed the many virtues and endearing qualities that characterized him in the circle of his acquaintance, can adequately conceive the irreparable chasm in private life this lamentable event has made.

"In my conscience, I believe, there never lived the man, of whom it could more truly be said, that, whenever he was found in public life, he was respected and admired-whenever he was known in private life, he was most affectionately beloved.

"I will no longer try the patience of the House: I was anxious, indeed, that they should bear with me for a few moments, whilst I endeavoured, not to add my tribute to the regard and veneration in which his memory ought, and assuredly will be held; but whilst I endeavoured, however feebly, to discharge a debt of gratitude, and do a justice to my own feelings."

Mr WYNN said, "that his Noble Friend (Lord Morpeth), and his Right Hon. Friend who had last spoken (Mr M. Sutton), had expressed themselves concerning their departed friend with that feeling of affection and esteem which did them so much honour, and which was heightened by their habits of intimacy, and their opportunities of observing his character; but the virtues by which he was distinguished were not confined within the circle of his acquaintance, or concealed from the view of the world. Every one who saw Mr Horner had the means of judging of his temper, his mildness, and his personal virtues; for they were seen by all. He carried with him to public life, and into the duties and the business of his public station, all that gentleness of disposition, all that amenity of feeling, which adorned his private life, and endeared him to his private friends. Amidst the heats and contests of the House, amidst the vehemence of political discussion, amidst the greatest conflicts of opinion and opposition of judgment, he maintained the same mildness and serenity of disposition and temper. No eagerness of debate, no warmth of feeling, no enthusiasm for his own opinions, or coll

viction of the errors of others, ever betrayed him into any uncandid construction of motives, or any asperity towards the conduct of his opponents. His loss was great, and would long be regretted."

Sir S. ROMILLY said, "that the long and most intimate friendship which he had enjoyed with the Honourable Member, whose loss the House had to deplore, might, he hoped, entitle him to the melancholy satisfaction of saying a few words on this distressing occasion. Though no person better knew, or more highly estimated, the private virtues of Mr Horner than himself, yet, as he was not sure that he should be able to utter what he felt on that subject, he would speak of him only as a public man.

"Of all the estimable qualities which distinguished his character, he considered as the most valuable, that independence of mind which in him was so remarkable. It was from a consciousness of that independence, and from a just sense of its importance, that, at the same time that he was storing his mind with the most various knowledge on all subjects connected with our internal economy and foreign politics, and that he was taking a conspicuous and most successful part in all the great questions which have lately been discussed in Parliament, he laboriously devoted himself to all the painful duties of his profession. Though his success at the bar was not at all adequate to his merits, he yet stedfastly persevered in his labours, and seemed to consider it as essential to his independence, that he should look forward to his profession alone for the honours and emoluments to which his extraordinary talents gave him so just a claim.

"In the course of the last twelve years the House had lost some of the most considerable men that ever had enlightened and adorned it: there was this, however, peculiar in their present loss. When those great and eminent


to whom he alluded, were taken from them, the House knew the whole extent of the loss it had sustained, for they had arrived at the full maturity of their great powers and endowments. But no person could recollect-how, in every year since his lamented friend had first taken part in their debates, his talents had been improving, his faculties had been developed, and his

commanding eloquence had been rising with the important subjects on which it had been employed-how every session he had spoken with still in creasing weight and authority and effect, and had called forth new resources of his enlightened and com prehensive mind-and not be led to conjecture, that, notwithstanding the great excellence which, in the last session, he had attained, yet if he had been longer spared, he would have discovered powers not yet discovered to the House, and of which perhaps he was unconscious himself. He should very ill express what he felt upon this occasion, if he were to consider the extraordinary qualities which Mr Hor ner possessed apart from the ends and objects to which they were directed. The greatest eloquence was in itself only an object of vain and transient admiration; it was only when ennobled by the uses to which it was applied, when directed to great and vir tuous ends, to the protection of the oppressed, to the enfranchisement of the enslaved, to the extension of knowledge, to dispelling the clouds of ignorance and superstition, to the advancement of the best interests of the coun→ try, and to enlarging the sphere of human happiness, that it became a national benefit and a public blessing; that it was because the powerful ta lents, of which they were now de prived, had been uniformly exerted in the pursuit and promoting of such objects, that he considered the loss which they had to lament as one of the greatest which, in the present state of this country, it could possibly have sustained."

Mr W. ELLIOT.-" Amongst his other friends, sir, I cannot refuse to myself the melancholy consolation of paying my humble tribute of esteem and affection to the memory of a person, of whose rich, cultivated, and enlightened mind I have so often profited, and whose exquisite talents-whose ardent zeal for truth-whose just, sedate, and discriminating judgment whose forcible, but chastened eloquence

and, above all, whose inflexible virtue and integrity rendered him one of the most distinguished members of this House, one of the brightest orna ments of the profession to which he belonged, and held him forth as a finished model for the imitation of the rising generation.

"The full amount of such a loss, at such a conjuncture, and under all the various circumstances and considerations of the case, I dare not attempt to estimate. My Learned Friend (Sir S. Romilly) has well observed, that, if the present loss be great, the future is greater for, by dispensations far above the reach of human scrutiny, he has been taken from us at a period when he was only in his progress towards those high stations in the state, in which, so far as human foresight could discern, his merits must have placed him, and which would have given to his country the full and ripened benefits of his rare and admirable qualities."

Mr C. GRANT " had known his lamented friend before he had distinguished himself so much as he had subsequently done, and could not be silent when such an opportunity occurred of paying a tribute to his memory. Whatever difference of opinion they might have on public questions, he could suspend that difference to admire his talents, his worth, and his virtues. It was not his talents alone that were developed in his eloquence. His eloquence displayed his heart: through it were seen his high-minded probity, his philanthropy, his benevofence, and all those qualities which not only exacted applause, but excited love. It was the mind that appeared in speeches that gave them character. He would not enter into the account of his private life, although his private virtues were at least on a level with his public merits. Amid all the cares and interests of public life, he never lost his relish for domestic society, or his attachment to his family. The last time that he (Mr G.) conversed with him, he was anticipating with pleasure the arrival of a season of leisure, when he could spend a short time in the bosom of his family, and amid the endearments of his friends. When he looked at his public or private conduct, his virtues, or his ta lents, he would be allowed to have earned applause to which few other men ever entitled themselves."

Lord LASCELLES "hoped to be excused for adding a few words to what had been said, though he had not the honour of a private acquaintance with Mr Horner, whom he knew only in this House, where they had almost uniformly voted on opposite sides on

every great question. Notwithstanding these differences, he had often said in private, that Mr Horner was one of the greatest ornaments of his country; and he would now say in public, that the country could not have suffered a greater loss. The forms of Parliament allowed no means of expressing the collective opinion of the House on the honour due to his memory; but it must be consolatory to his friends to see, that if it had been possible to have come to such a vote, it would certainly have been unanimous."

The subject of this well-merited praise, and of all these sincere but ineffectual regrets, was born at Edinburgh, on the 18th of August 1778. In the month of October, *1786, he entered the high school of that city; and having remained at this seminary for six years, during the four first of which he was the pupil of Mr Nicol, and the two last of the celebrated Dr Adam, he passed on to the university in October 1792. In November 1795, he was placed under the care of the Rev. Mr Hewlett in London, with whom he lived, and who superintended his education for a period of two years. He then returned to Edinburgh, and applied himself to the study of the law, and passed advocate in the year 1800. Soon after, he took up his residence in London, with the view of preparing himself for the English bar. In 1806, he was appointed by the East India Company one of the commissioners for the liquidation of the debts of the Nabob of Arcot; but resigned this laborious situation in little more than two years, finding that the duties which it imposed on him were incompatible with the application due to his professional pursuits. In October 1806, he was returned Member of Parlia ment for St Ives. The following year, he was elected Member for Wendover, and was called to the English bar. In 1813, he was chosen to represent the borough of St Mawes in the present parliament.

The disease which proved fatal to Mr Horner was an induration and contraction of the lungs; a malady, the existence of which is not marked by any decided symptom, and which is wholly beyond the reach of medical aid. He died at Pisa on the 8th of February 1817, aged thirty-eight years and six months, and was interred in the Protestant burying-ground at Leghorn.


ἵν ̓ ὕλαεν ἐπεςι ποντο
Προβλημ ̓ ἁλικλυςον, ἀκραν

Υπο πλακα Σανιδ

Τὰς ἱέρας όπως προσειποιμ' άν ̓Αθανάς.

Sophoclis Ajax, v. 1217.

FOR the last two thousand years, a few blocks of marble, cut in resemblance of the human body, have formed the almost solitary subject of uniform opinion among all men, and excited, without qualification, the universal admiration of the world. The Romans took them from the Greeks, and were not ashamed to confess themselves overcome by the artists of a nation which they had subdued. In the midst of wars and of triumphs, the nations of Modern Europe treat these marbles as they do cities and provinces -gain possession of them by victories, and cede them by treaties. The ancients who have written concerning them, speak of them, like ourselves, in hyperbolical expressions of enthusiasm; and by the general consent of Greeks, Romans, and Barbarians, these master-pieces of art have been raised to the rank of so many unfailing standards, by a comparison with which alone the excellencies of the productions of nature herself can be duly appreciated and admired. It is yet more wonderful, that though these admirable figures have for some centuries been made the subject of unceasing imitation, they maintain to this hour an undisputed superiority over all the productions of the moderns. We are never weary of asking, by what art they have been produced?-and this problem has never yet been entirely solved. In order to answer it in a satisfactory manner, it is not enough to shew wherein consists the perfection of the ancient statues, and by what rules of execution they have been rendered so perfect as they are; it is necessary to go deeper into the subject, and to examine what may have been the causes of this perfection; that is to say, by what train of actions and opinions the Greeks arrived at the formation and realization of those principles by which it has been produced. To do this well, we must forget our own habits and manners; we must transport ourselves into Greece herself into the country of a people VOL. I.

in every thing which respects the fine arts very different from ourselves; and we must endeavour to determine the nature and the causes of their taste, without allowing ourselves to be seduced by the depravity of our own.

The character of the individual was every thing among the Greeks. They cultivated his moral part, and they perfected his physical part, because his physical and his moral qualities were alike necessary for the purposes of the state. The case is very different among modern nations. What signifies the beauty, or even the virtue of an individual, to the overgrown empires of the west? Removed, as we are, to an inconceivable distance from the Greeks in our appreciation of the model, it is no great wonder that we should have little in common with them on the principles of the imitation. Much difficulty might have been spared us, had the numerous writings of the Greek artists descended to our hands; these, however, have all perished in the lapse of centuries; and a few scattered notices, gathered from the allusions of their poets and philosophers, are all that we have in their room. Among the moderns, on the other hand, systems concerning the theory, as well as the practice, of the arts, on the essence of the beautiful, on the ideal, and on the principles of imitation,-have been so multiplied, that which ever side we take in any of these very difficult questions, we are sure to meet with abundance of celebrated writers with whom we must contend, and jealous opinions which we must either confute or reconcile.

Those authors who, in treating of the history of the arts, have recognized the superiority of the Greeks over their modern imitators, have generally attributed this superiority to the influences of climate, of religion, of political liberty, of the facility with which the naked figure was studied, and the recompenses with which their artists were distinguished. They have thought that the genius, the physical beauty, and a certain charm of character, which they regard as having been peculiar to the Greeks, were the product of the temperature of their climate. They have said, that the veneration of the Greeks for the statues of their gods, and the majestic ideas of religion, had elevated the imagination of artists above the sphere of


sense; that the entire liberty which the Greeks enjoyed (that constant source of all their revolutions and all their jealousies) had spread abroad among them the seeds of noble and sublime sentiments; that the habit of seeing the naked figure, a habit derived not only from the nature of their public games, but even from the character of their ordinary costume, was of itself sufficient to lead many to the imitation of the human body; and that, in fine, the honours with which the artists were signalized, and, above all the rest, the noble use which was made of their works, by consecrating them as the recompense of illustrious actions, must have furnished to the enthusiasm of their youth, at once opportunity and impatience for distinction.

It is impossible to doubt that all these different causes have contributed to the perfection of the artists. These theories are, in many respects, full of justice and truth, but they involve, at the same time, many errors, and it is no difficult matter to detect the insufficiency of the systems which they would propose.

The history of the arts, in truth, whether we compare Greeks with Greeks, or Greeks with other nations, presents many phenomena which can only be explained by a great multiplicity of researches. In this study, as in that of the natural sciences, we must be not unfrequently content to make almost as many definitions as there are individuals.

1. The Greeks had received from the hand of nature a climate full of contrasts a sky sometimes of the purest azure, sometimes surcharged with the most dark and the most tempestu


clouds-destructive winds-the extremities of heat and cold-delightful vallies, full of fertility and cultivation-and naked mountains, trod only by a few wandering goat-herds-caverns full of deep mephitic vapours freezing springs and boiling fountains, all peopled with supernatural inhabitants, by the superstitious fancy of the heroic times. The natural effects of these circumstances were an extremely delicate and irritable organization a spirit active and curious, but capable of every excess-a character changeable, turbulent, and passionate, alike disposed to love, to vanity, and to superstition.

But, first of all, it must strike us as

an astonishing circumstance, that within a territory by no means extensive, and under the influence of a climate almost every where the same, the different states of Greece by no means cultivated the arts with the same zeal or the same success. Despised in Crete, and proscribed at Sparta, they were never thought of in Arcadia, Achaia, Etolia, Phocis, or Thessaly. In Boeotia (in the native country of Hesiod, Pindar, and Corinna) they were proverbially disregarded and contemned. In Corinth, they remained stationary in the second rank;-but attained, alike, the full consummation of their glory in Sicyon and in Athens. It must moreover be evident, that the brilliant qualities which the Greeks derived from the influence of their climate, might have been as likely to lead them astray as to conduct them aright. The poetical genius which was habitual to them, was very far from resembling in every thing that which is the inspiration of painting and of sculpture. These Athenians, in every thing else so light, so imprudent, so irascible, who alternately crowned and exiled their great men-who slumbered during peace, and formed vast projects of empire in the midst of irreparable defeats,-shewed, in their taste relative to the fine arts, a wisdom and a coolness which may be said to form the exact reverse of their natural disposition. Faithfully attached to the same principles, they avoided, during a long course of ages, all error and all novelty. Somewhere else, then, than in the mere heat and effervescence of the Athenian blood, must we seek for the causes of this firmness, and of the perfection to which it conducted.

2. Although there may be some ground for believing that the forms of the human body were in general more beautiful among the ancient Greeks than they were among the greater part of modern nations, the difference between them and us, in this respect, could never have been so considerable as to have had any great influence on the arts. The countries in which these arts had made the greatest progress, were by no means those which abounded in the most beautiful models. "Quotus enim quisque formosus est?" says Cicero: "Athenis cum essem, e grege epheborum vix singuli reperiebantur." Phryne was of Thebes, Glycera of Thespis, Aspasio of

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