| ( 155 ) |
It had for some time been evident, as has been shown in a previous chapter, that Gifford was becoming physically incapable of carrying on the Editorship of the Quarterly Review, but an occasional respite from the pressure of sickness, as well as his own unwillingness to abandon his connection with a work which he regarded with paternal affection, and Murray’s difficulty in finding a worthy successor, combined to induce him to remain at his post.
He accordingly undertook to carry on his editorial duties till the publication of the 60th number, aided and supported by the active energy of Barrow and Croker, who, in conjunction with the publisher, did most of the necessary drudgery.
Mr. Murray had no lack of advisers in making his
selection of a new Editor. Cohen, D’Israeli, Milman and others had suggestions to offer, but the problem remained for
many months unsolved. Croker and Barrow were debarred, by their official positions at the
Admiralty, from undertaking the duties; some contributors recommended Southey; Southey, on the other hand, had, so far back as 1822,
urged the merits of John Taylor Coleridge, a
frequent contributor to the Review, who was then rising to prominence at the Bar; this
recommendation was supported by
| 156 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
I have been most anxious to hear of Gifford, after his late alarming attack—his state, I find, still is most precarious!
I truly sympathise with you in your important difficulties on the choice of a successor. I am well acquainted with all the objections which may rise even whenever one shall be fixed on—yet some one must; and the earlier the better, that in case Gifford survives, he may have the advantage of consultation and some advice, which the present Editor only can give.
It is in the compass of a hope that Gifford, by close care, may live in the artificial atmosphere of his apartment a considerable time. I have known more than one case—the parties, indeed, were much younger and more perpendicular—where, always in the most imminent danger, they lived many years in an apartment where heat was regulated. I doubt if he has the most skilful medical aid.
In case you fix on an Editor before I see you, let me request you would do it guardedly—so as not to fetter yourself—you may easily do this because you are enabled to make as splendid an offer as the annals of literature ever recorded. It is strange to me that no one should occur to you in your own wide circle, as I imagine it to be. I would, in this dilemma, make a list of the more eminent writers. I would carefully sift that list, at least twice, and then I think you might fix on two or three of whom a trial might be made. What you want is a literary man, with Gifford’s habits. Be cautious of one man whom we know. If Gifford’s state is unequal to overlook the next number, can’t you put the Review in commission, by giving articles to several persons to edit? The Review may be delayed, but it would possibly hurt it, to suspend the publication.
| GIFFORD’S FAILING HEALTH. | 157 |
For two years, however, Mr. Gifford’s attack of pain and sickness, though frequent, were not continuous, and as his bodily infirmities had not impaired his intellectual abilities he was able to work at the Review. In sending in the MS. of an article, Barrow wrote to Murray on Aug. 11th, 1823:—
“Gifford was in a craving humour, and wished very much for what I now send (though I intended it for a future number); but the rainy weather has permitted me to finish it. It is well peppered, and if Gifford will add some of his double-refined salt, I have no doubt we shall work up a well-seasoned devil for Jonathan to digest over his Whisky.”
The work reviewed was ‘Wm. Faux, an English Farmer: Memorable Days in America, being a Journal of a Tour in the United States,’ and that Gifford’s double-refined salt had not lost its savour is proved by the article, which is thus referred to in Allibone’s Dictionary: “This is a ‘Memorable’ work, as being the occasion of two spicy reviews; the first in the London Quarterly, said to be by Gifford; the other, in which the criticism of the Quarterly is roughly handled in the North-American Review, by Edward Everett.”
The following letter is interesting both as giving Gifford’s opinion of his own condition, and as affording a testimony to the warm friendship which still subsisted between him and Canning. Canning had written that he was in “bed with the Gout,” and Gifford replied:—
I wish you had a pleasanter bedfellow; but here am I on the
sofa with a cough, and a very disagreeable associate I find it. Old T. Moore, I think, died all but his voice,
and
| 158 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
The following summer, however, found him still in harness and fully alive to the duties of a critic. In the course of his revision of Canon Hughes’ article on Washington Irving’s Tales, he detected some blunders on the part of Irving, who wrote Cathedral Towns; but Cathedrals make cities. “He also speaks of Prebends. There is no such person; for Prebend is an office, and the holder is a Prebendary.”
“I am sorry that he has taken it into his mind to ridicule our
provincial clergy, of whose character and function he seems to be totally ignorant. It
is not a picture of the present times, but of the days of Queen
Anne. At the same time there is much to be praised in the book. All that
Buckthorne says of his mother
| GIFFORD’S SUFFERINGS. | 159 |
A few days later, he mentions the article by Sir Walter Scott, ‘On the Correspondence of Lady Suffolk.’ Scott had not contributed to the Quarterly for many years, and Gifford welcomed the paper.
“It came at last,” he wrote to Murray (9th August, 1824), “and with it came the letters which I had to read, though I cannot use my eyes now long at a time. Scott’s paper is a clever, sensible thing—the work of a man who knows what he is about.”
On the following day he wrote to Murray:—
“I have an almost constant pain in my side, so that I can sit up but at intervals, and my breath is as bad as ever.”
This state of matters could not go on much longer; sometimes a quarter passed without a number appearing;
* The article appeared in No. 62, after Mr. Coleridge had assumed the Editorship. |
| 160 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
“Have you made up your mind about an editor. Southey has written to me on the subject, as if you had, and as if he knew your choice; I do not like to answer him before I know what I am to say. Will you dine at Kensington on Sunday at 6?”
Southey had long been meditating about the editorship. It never appears to have been actually offered to him, but his name, as we have already seen, was often mentioned in connection with it. He preferred, however, going on with his own works and remaining a contributor only. Politics, too, may have influenced him, for we find him writing to Mr. Murray on Dec. 15, 1824—“The time cannot be far distant when the Q. R. must take its part upon a most momentous subject, and choose between Mr. Canning and the Church. I have always considered it as one of the greatest errors in the management of the Review that it should have been silent upon that subject so long.” So far as regarded his position as a contributor, Southey expressed his opinion to Murray explicitly:—
“No future Editor, be he who he may, must expect to exercise the
same discretion over my papers which Mr. Gifford
has done. I will at any time curtail what may be deemed too long, and consider any
objections that may be made, with a disposition to defer to them when it can be done
without sacrificing my own judgment upon points which may seem to me important. But my
age an
| IN SEARCH OF AN EDITOR. | 161 |
Dr. Ireland, Dean of Westminster, wrote to Murray:—
“As to your own affair—the Review—the future management of it will be a matter of much anxiety to determine. For the fifteen years of Mr. Gifford’s management, I have had the happiness of being his steady and affectionate assistant. I have an article with me now here, and it will be with particular feelings that I shall send it to him, in a few days, at Ramsgate. It will be the last, or the last but one, that I shall ever send in this manner; and while I am persuaded that he ought to withdraw from the management, I look with some melancholy upon this concluding scene of it. I have sometimes thought that if there were some interval between the 60th number and the commencement of a new series, the public might be stimulated to do something towards it. The voice of Society calls strongly for a continuation in some way; and if this impulse were given to the public mind, there might be some extraordinary effort to come to your assistance. This, however, is altogether a matter of experiment.”
Mr. Cohen* endorsed the recommendation of D’Israeli, already referred to, that Mr. Gifford should be relieved from the more laborious functions of an editor, and that the editorship should be put in commission, under Mr. Gifford’s inspection and control.
“In the present age the task of directing the public taste is not the most important part of the duty of a reviewer. In the present state of society, intellectual cultivation is
* Afterwards Sir Francis Palgrave. |
| 162 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
All this was very important and useful advice, but it did not settle the question of how the Quarterly was in future to be conducted. At last came the communication of Mr. Barrow to Mr. Murray:—
I saw Gifford last night, who is in good spirits and much pleased with a letter which you had written to him; but I find he is completely decided to give in, and advises—what you will, of course, do as soon as convenient—to call a few of your friends together to arrange for the future conducting of the Quarterly. He is quite of opinion that the gentleman in the North [Southey] would, in a few numbers, ruin the Review if he had the management.
When Gifford had finally determined to resign, he wrote to Mr. Canning (September 8, 1824) the following interesting letter:—
I have laid aside my Regalia, and King
Gifford, first of the name, is now no more, as Sir Andrew Aguecheek says, “than an
ordinary mortal or a Christian.” It is necessary
| GIFFORD’S RESIGNATION. | 163 |
It is now exactly sixteen years ago since your letter invited or encouraged me to take the throne. I did not mount it without a trembling fit; but I was promised support, and I have been nobly supported. As far as regards myself, I have borne my faculties soberly, if not meekly. I have resisted, with undeviating firmness, every attempt to encroach upon me, every solicitation of publisher, author, friend, or friend’s friend, and turned not a jot aside for power or delight. In consequence of this integrity of purpose, the Review has long possessed a degree of influence, not only in this, but in other countries hitherto unknown; and I have the satisfaction, at this late hour, of seeing it in its most palmy state. No number has sold better than the sixtieth.
But there is a sad tale to tell. For the last three years I have perceived the mastery which disease and age were acquiring over a constitution battered and torn at the best, and have been perpetually urging Murray to look about for a successor, while I begged Copleston, Blomfield, and others to assist the search. All has been ineffectual. Murray, indeed, has been foolishly flattering himself that I might be cajoled on from number to number, and has not, therefore, exerted himself as he ought to have done; but the rest have been in earnest. Do you know any one? I once thought of Robert Grant; but he proved timid, and indeed his saintly propensities would render him suspected. Reginald Heber, whom I should have preferred to any one, was snatched from me for a far higher object.
I have been offered a Doctor’s Degree, and when I declined it, on account of my inability to appear in public, my own college (Exeter) most kindly offered to confer it on me in private; that is, at the Rector’s lodgings. This, too, I declined, and begged the Dean of Westminster, who has a living in the neighbourhood, to excuse me as handsomely as he could. It might, for aught I know, be a hard race between a shroud and a gown which shall get me first; at any rate, it was too late for honours.
| 164 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
Mr. J. T. Coleridge had long been regarded as the most eligible successor to Mr. Gifford, and on him the choice now fell; but from the following note it would appear that the first advances towards his appointment were made, prematurely, by Coleridge’s friends:—
Mr. Gifford is now almost as well, certainly as vigorous in intellect, as ever I knew him. He goes to Ramsgate, as usual, next month. During his life no change is likely to take place; and when any decision is necessary it will not, as I always stated, depend upon me. The subject should not therefore be allowed to influence in the slightest degree your other views and arrangements.
When the post was actually vacant, and the formal decision had been made, Mr. Murray wrote:—
The kindness and delicacy of your conduct, during our
communications respecting the Editorship of the Quarterly Review, were
such as to fix, definitely, my own wishes upon the subject. I am therefore most
happy in now finding myself completely free, to testify my sincere esteem, by
offering you that appointment; and most happy shall I be to learn that no
circumstances have intervened to prevent your allowing me again to renew our
friendly negotiations. Should your determination be favourable to my wishes, I
would then ask if, in the absence of our friend Archdeacon
| MR. JOHN COLERIDGE. | 165 |
To this, Mr. Coleridge replied:—
The subject of your note is not quite a new one to me; and therefore I answer it sooner than, from its great importance to me, I otherwise should. Two years, I think, have nearly elapsed since our conversations respecting the Editorship of the Quarterly; in that interval I have made advances enough in my profession to keep me in good heart about it; but they are of a nature which certainly, at present, and I think for a long time, are likely not to be incompatible with the labours of the Review. I do not, however, disguise from myself that I run some risk in accepting your kind and flattering offer; but I have made up my mind to that.
When, indeed, I consider the magnitude of the concern to you, and its importance to the public, it is impossible for me not to feel much diffidence as to the manner in which I shall meet your expectations, and those of a great number of kind friends. However, I cannot suppose that you have not well weighed what you know and have heard of me, before you make the offer; and I can only say that the Review, so long as I conduct it, shall have, what it is entitled to, my best exertions in its support.
There is no one whom I would sooner meet on the subject than Mr. Locker; and I will see him at any hour he pleases, either here, at the Athenæum, or in Albemarle Street. But the tone of your note makes me feel confident that there will be no points of difficulty to arrange; and perhaps we could settle everything as easily in person. Time seems to me important.
| 166 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
I shall dine with you with great pleasure on Thursday next, and remain, my dear Sir,
Mr. Murray forwarded the reply of Mr. Coleridge to Mr. Gifford, accompanied by the following note:—
I shall not attempt to express the feelings with which I communicate the enclosed answer to the proposal which I suspect it would have been thought contemptible in me any longer to have delayed, and all that I can find to console myself with is the hope that I may be able to evince my gratitude to you during life, and to your memory, if it so please the Almighty that I am to be the survivor.
Further negotiations between the publisher and the new Editor were carried on by the intervention of Mr. F. H. Locker, and four days later Mr. Coleridge wrote as follows:—
I have seen Mr. Locker this afternoon, and he has communicated to me what had passed between him and you; upon all parts of the propositions, which he made in your name, I will only say in a simple sentence that I am perfectly satisfied. I think them honourable both to the maker and receiver.
You will believe that I have the cause much at heart;
| APPOINTMENT OF MR. COLERIDGE. | 167 |
If your occupations prevent you from coming so far this way to-morrow, will you order to be sent to my house any papers you may have, or the last publishers’ lists. You know my address is 65 Torrington Square.
Mr. Murray lost no time in informing his friends of his decision, and his letter to Mr. Southey and that received by him from Mr. D’Israeli are subjoined:—
Having possessed myself of your valuable opinion and advice
with regard to the choice of a new Editor for the Quarterly Review, I did
not like to trouble you further until after necessary circumspection and the
arrangement of some delicate interests, I could feel satisfied that I might
venture to make my election with propriety and with safety. It is with no small
degree of pleasure that I can
| 168 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
I shall only add that I rely upon the promise of your fervid support under this new arrangement, and that I remain always, etc.,
You have given me great pleasure in your communication of yesterday, that the Editorship of the Q. R. is at length finally adjusted.
Unquestionably, on this occasion, you have proceeded, step by step, with all the prudence and consideration such an important event, I may say to the world, as well as to yourself, has painfully required. A better choice, perhaps, it is impossible to make—that it is an excellent one, you have many reasons to infer.
The present Editor, we may imagine, has had the advantage of a gradual initiation—and his mind warmed by the same principles, is fully impressed by the character which marked out his celebrated predecessor. The particular excellences of Mr. Gifford are the new Editor’s inheritance, and to preserve this entire, would be sufficient to secure superiority.
But of a periodical work, whose prosperity mainly depends on the movable nature of the age, it may well deserve consideration, whether it be not absolutely necessary to improve an old inheritance by new possessions. What may have been sometimes left undone in the former Quarterlies, may yet be accomplished in the new ones; and it is in human nature that a successor has certain advantages over his predecessor.
The mantle has been caught, and comes instinct with
| GIFFORD’S FRIENDSHIP. | 169 |
On December 30th, 1824, the Rev. H. H. Milman writes to Mr. Murray: “Coleridge had previously apprised me of his installation in the editorship, and has been kind enough to ask my assistance. I am convinced that, all circumstances considered, you have been fortunate in your selection.”
Gifford lived for about two years more, and continued to entertain many kind thoughts of his friends and fellow-contributors: his intercourse with his publisher was as close and intimate as ever to the end.
In the long course of our acquaintance you can bear me witness that the only fault I ever taxed you with in pecuniary matters, was with that of being too liberal to me; if, in the present instance, you have committed, as I fear, a greater fault than ever, I cannot help it; but most sincerely and affectionately do I thank you for your kindness.
It was the Dean, who, seeing the marvellous confusion of my table, and learning the cause, suggested to me that the paper might have slipped out in your study. I was not sorry to think this, for I really suspected that it had buried itself among my innumerable scraps—and, between ourselves, had it done so, it would not be the first time.
I thank you again and again for your presents of this
| 170 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
When you were here this morning, I had not the smallest idea of the munificence of your kindness; for it would have been very repugnant to my feelings to make any inquiry; and I therefore waited till Snow’s Book came to me in the usual course of business. Patty brought it in, ten minutes after you left me. After all I have seen of your liberality, I confess I was surprised; and I hope you will believe me when I add that I was also a little grieved. I need not such costly proofs of your regard. Had you made the former sum £200, I should have been both satisfied and pleased; had you given me £50, beyond which my thoughts never advanced, I should have deeply felt your kindness; but what to say of this profession of friendship I know not. To remonstrate with you is a vain and ungrateful task—and the subject affects me. I can only hope, therefore, that I may be enabled to show how sensibly it touches me, and that I am, with the truest regard, your
About two years after his retirement from the Quarterly, Mr. Canning, Lord Liverpool, and others sent him some pecuniary assistance, which Gifford acknowledged with tender sympathy:—
| GIFFORD AND CANNING. | 171 |
I have been long most anxious to write to you, but had not the power. It is now nearly nine weeks since my old enemy, Eurus, found me in the Park, and sent me home in the custody of a severe cold, that rigidly confined me to my bedroom, and almost to my bed, till Monday last. But this would hardly justify complaint; the worst is, that the rags and tatters of my poor mind, which was broken to pieces in the more than tropical fires of last summer, and which I fondly hoped were adjusting themselves in some slight measure, became as seam-rent as before, and I could neither write, nor read, nor think, for three minutes together.
When Frere—and I cannot name him without a grateful remembrance of his considerate and affectionate attention—first mentioned the matter to me, it was so unexpected, and altogether so remote from anything that ever entered my thoughts, that in my weak state I am not sure that I fully comprehended him while he stayed. I believe he saw this, and in kindness dropped the subject. After he left me I recurred to it, and was totally overpowered. And now, my dear Canning, what can I say? I did not think that I, who have lived for the last five-and-twenty years in the pleasing assurance of possessing your regard and affection, could have been so surprised; but I cannot proceed.
I will not deny that your bounty was acceptable, because, for reasons which will not recur, the year had been a very trying one to me. But I earnestly and fervently hope that you will not think of repeating this splendid and costly proof of affection. I solemnly assure you that it is not at all necessary; for with my salary from the lottery (which is regularly paid me, and which, as I am now on the verge of seventy, will not, I trust, be withheld from me), I am even rich.
The only name given to me besides yours was that of Lord Liverpool, so that I am but imperfectly
acquainted with my benefactors. I bless God for such friends, and shall be very
careful not to lose them unnecessarily. I experienced, however, a degree of
delight not common to
| 172 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
One word more, however, on a subject which is seldom out of my thoughts. Let me beg you to take care of yourself. Catch, or rather snatch at, every interval of relaxation. It is a fearful thing to break down the mind by unremitted tension. Remember what Horace says to Virgil:
“Misce stultitiam consiliis
brevem;” |
Many were the kind inquiries which reached Mr. Murray as to Gifford’s health: his friend Mitchell wrote:—
“It gives me great concern to hear of these frequent illnesses of Mr. Gifford. Mixed up with higher regrets for any serious attacks upon his health or vigour, I have personal feelings to make me interested in them. I can never forget his personal kindness to myself; and if I have gained any little credit with the public, I cannot but remember how much I am indebted to his taste and judgment, and the confidence put into me by both for the acquisition. When you write next, I shall hope to hear a more favourable account.”
The next, and the last letter, which we can find in the Murray collection was addressed to him about a month later.
| GIFFORD’S LAST LETTER. | 173 |
I see with regret in the papers of this morning that my poor friend Moorcroft is dead.* It is mentioned in the Asiatic Journal. I shall be obliged to you if you can spare it to me for an hour or two, and I will return it. I loved Moorcroft much. He was to be sure a little flighty; but he was of a sweet disposition, inquisitive, active, and unwearied in his favourite pursuits. Poor fellow! I little dreamed that he would have gone before me.
The last letter that Gifford sent to Mr. Canning, written the month before his death, accompanied the 2 vol. edition of ‘Ford’s Dramatic Works,’ which Gifford had recently been engaged upon.
I send you a copy of ‘Ford.’ The avowed object is the real one—saving the press from disgrace by anticipating the bookseller’s design of giving a republication of ‘Weber.’ I feared at one time that I should not be able to get through with the work, trifling as it is. I am sadly fallen off in strength since you saw me; but this is the natural course of things,
|
“aridâ
Pellente lascivos amores
Canitie facilemque somnum.”
|
As for the Loves, why, “I humbly gave them leave to depart” an age ago, and they went, I suppose; but the
* Mr. Wm. Moorcroft went to India, and made some remarkable journeys and discoveries on the North-west frontier, especially in the Himalayas, the Punjab, Cashmere and Tibet. He died at Bokhara in 1808. His narrative is included in Moorcroft and Trebeck’s ‘Travels,’ published in 1841. |
| 174 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
You are now playing into a world of business, but remember the miser.
The last month of Gifford’s life was but a slow dying. He was sleepless, feverish, oppressed by an extreme difficulty of breathing, which often entirely deprived him of speech; and his sight had failed. Towards the end of his life he would sometimes take up a pen, and after a vain attempt to write, would throw it down, saying, “No, my work is done!” Even thinking caused him pain. As his last hour drew near, his mind began to wander. “These books have driven me mad,” he once said, “I must read my prayers.” He passed gradually away, his pulse ceasing to beat five hours before his death. And then he slept out of life, on the 31st of December, 1826, in his 68th year—a few months before the death of Canning.
Mr. Gifford desired that he should be buried in the
ground attached to Grosvenor Chapel, South Audley Street, where he had interred Annie Davies, his faithful old housekeeper, but his
friends made application for his interment in Westminster Abbey, which was acceded to, and
he was buried there accordingly on the 8th of January, 1827, immediately under the
monuments of Camden and Garrick. His funeral was attended by Dr.
Ireland, Dean of Westminster, the two Misses Cookesley,
General Grosvenor, Mr. Murray, Mr. Croker, Mr. Barrow, Mr.
Chantrey, Mr. Lockhart, Mr. F. Palgrave, Mr.
Hoppner, and others. Though perfectly indifferent about money, he was much
| GIFFORD’S DEATH. | 175 |
Gifford has earned, but it is now generally recognized that he has unjustly earned, the character of a severe, if not a bitter critic. Possessing an unusually keen discernment of genuine excellence, and a scathing power of denunciation of what was false or bad in literature, he formed his judgments in accordance with a very high standard of merit. Sir Walter Scott said of his Baviad and Mæviad, that “he squashed at one blow a set of coxcombs who might have humbugged the world long enough.” His critical temper, however, was in truth exceptionally equable; regarding it as his duty to encourage all that was good and elevating, and relentlessly to denounce all that was bad or tended to lower the tone of literature, he conscientiously acted up to the standard by which he judged others, and never allowed personal feeling to intrude upon his official judgments.
It need scarcely be said that he proved himself an excellent editor, and
that he entertained a high idea of the duties of that office. William Jerdan, who was introduced to Gifford by Canning, said:
“I speak of him as he always was to me—full of gentleness, a sagacious
adviser and instructor, upon so comprehensive a scale, that I never met his superior
among the men of the age most renowned for
| 176 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
The number of articles which he himself wrote was comparatively small, for he confined himself for the most part to revising and improving the criticisms of others, and though in thus dealing with articles submitted to him he frequently erased what the writers considered some of their best criticisms, he never lost their friendship and support. He disliked incurring any obligation which might in any degree shackle the expression of his free opinions. In conjunction with Mr. Murray, he laid down a rule, which as we have already seen was advocated by Scott, and to which no exception has ever been made, that every writer in the Quarterly should receive payment for his contribution. On one occasion, when a gentleman in office would not receive the money, the article was returned. “I am not more certain of many conjectures,” says Jerdan, “than I am of this, that he never propagated a dishonest opinion nor did a dishonest act.”
Gifford took no notice of the ferocious attacks made upon him by Hunt and Hazlitt. Holding, as he did, that inviolable secrecy was one of the prime functions of an editor—though the practice has since become very different—he never attempted to vindicate himself, or to reveal the secret as to the writers of the reviews. In accordance with his plan of secrecy, he desired Dr. Ireland, his executor, to destroy all confidential letters, especially those relating to the Review, so that the names of the authors, as well as the prices paid for each article, might never be known.
| GIFFORD’S CHARACTER. | 177 |
In society, of which he saw but little, except at Mr. Murray’s, he was very entertaining. He told a story remarkably well; and had an inexhaustible supply; the archness of his eyes and countenance making them all equally good.
He had never been married; but although he had no children, he had an exceeding love for them. When well, he delighted in giving juvenile parties, and rejoiced at seeing the children frisking about in the happiness of youth—a contrast which threw the misery of his own early life into strange relief. His domestic favourites were his dog and his cat, both of which he dearly loved. He was also most kind and generous to his domestic servants; and all who knew him well, sorrowfully lamented his death.
Many years after Gifford’s death, a venomous article upon him appeared in a London periodical. The chief point of this anonymous attack was contained in certain extracts from the writings of Sir W. Scott, Southey, and other eminent contemporaries of Mr. Gifford. Mr. R. W. Hay, one of the oldest contributors to the Quarterly, was at that time still living, and, in allusion to the article in question, he wrote to the present Mr. Murray:—
It is wholly worthless, excepting as it contains strictures
of Sir W. Scott, Southey, and John Wilson
on the critical character of the late Wm.
Gifford. I by no means subscribe to all that is said by these
distinguished individuals on the subject, and I cannot help suspecting that the
high station in literature which they occupied rendered them more than commonly
sensitive to the corrections and erasures which were proposed by the editor.
Sir Walter (great man as he was) was perfectly capable
of writing so carelessly as to require correction, and both
Southey and
| 178 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |
| GIFFORD’S CHARACTER. | 179 |
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