Literary Reminiscences and Memoirs of Thomas Campbell
Chapter 11
|
MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. |
261 |
CHAPTER XI.
Literary Union Club.—Letter of “Omnipresence
Montgomery” to Campbell.—Memoir
of Mackintosh.—“Metropolitan” undertaken.—Leaves his house in Scotland
Yard.—Visits Hastings.—Anecdote of his
kind-heartedness.—Campbell’s contributions to the
“Metropolitan.”—The Magazine purchased by
Captain Marryat.—Life of Mrs.
Siddons.—The Association of the Friends of Poland.
THE Literary Union Club has been alluded to. It was among his
numerous idealities as easy of execution, to form a body of individuals who should meet
upon the common foundation of an interest in literature. The shapes of things entered the
poet’s mind in great variety, but he could not work them out. He was the schemer, but
not the practical man. The idea of the Literary Union was put forward at his house in Upper
Seymour Street, in 1829-30. Among those who took a part in its origin were the late
Sir George Ducket, Sir Francis Freeling, Sir Gore
Ousley, Dr. Henderson, W. A. Mackinnon, Jno.
Martin, the artist, and others. Having missed a
262 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
meeting, the poet sent me the next day the following letter:—
“My dear Sir,—An
anonymous member of our committee has sent me the accompanying correction of
our memorandum. The wording of such a paper is devilishly difficult and
delicate. On reconsidering, I sincerely hope whether you have made the printer
throw off copies or not, to have the following for the standing list of our
five paragraphs.”
(Here they follow, and are now immaterial. The object
which the poet had in view, and which was not carried out, for the club became
in the end an ordinary London West End club of seven or eight hundred
members—that object was developed, additionally, in the latter part of
the letter, and is somewhat novel in idea).
“The members of this society having increased with a
rapidity exceeding the most sanguine expectations of its first proposers, their
committee now think it time to develope certain characteristic objects by which
they conceive that the Literary Union might be advantageously distinguished
from ordinary clubs, but which it might have been premature to have propounded
until it had been ascertained to what numerical strength the society was likely
to attain, and how many individuals of decidedly literary and scientific
acquirements it might have to reckon
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 263 |
among its members.
The committee now conceive that it would be expedient to invite such members as
may have leisure for the production of original papers on subjects of art,
science, or literature, to favour the society with their communications. They
think that in the event of any such paper or papers being voluntarily offered
by any member of the society, a committee selected from the whole body of
members should be appointed to inspect such paper or papers, and empowered to
decide whether they should be received for public reading in the society, and
in the event of their being received, that a meeting of all the members, or of
as many as can be received into one room, should be opened in the Union Club
House, and after the reading of the papers, that a conversation should be held
on the subject of each paper.
“The committee are further of opinion that as such
contributions are to be perfectly spontaneous, and as many literary and
scientific men who might otherwise be competent and willing to afford them,
may, nevertheless, be unable to do so from their occupations, the supply of
such papers cannot be expected to be constant and numerous. The committee
therefore think, as intelligence has been received of many intelligent and
public-spirited individuals in the provincial towns of the empire being
disposed to organise societies in
264 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
their respective towns,
on the plan of the London Literary Union, that in the event of the formation of
such societies being accomplished, and composed of respectable persons, an
intercourse should be established between the London Literary Union and those
provincial unions, and that such a transmission of original papers on subjects
of art, science, and literature, should be agreed upon, as may enable all the
productions of the combined Britannic Literary Union to be at the service of
each society for reading and discussion.
“The committee are also of opinion that the London
Literary Union should make an agreement with the other societies, which shall
be thus established, to admit a certain small number—the future
regulations to be subsequently considered—of the members of the branch
clubs to be free of the London Literary Club during their residence in London.
The number of such admissible honorary members (or delegate, if it should seem
proper so to denominate them) the committee think ought not to exceed five per
cent, of each provincial club to which they belong, so that, supposing ten
provincial literary unions to exist over Britain and Ireland, the rooms of the
London club would only be crowded by fifty additional visitants. A power of
rejecting any objectionable individual from coming in this re-
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 265 |
presentative shape from the country clubs the committee
think ought to be vested in the governing committee of the L. L. Union, and
that a certificate of every provincial honorary visitant’s character
should precede his claim to admittance. But the committee think that the London
Union has little danger to apprehend from the chance of improper visitants
being thus sent to the Parent Club. The provincial clubs would be interested in
sending us their most respectable members.
“It is evident that every precaution adopted by the
London L. Union for keeping out improper visitants from connected clubs must be
left to the adoption of the provincial societies, and that the privileges of
every portion of the projected confederation must be made perfectly reciprocal,
and as equal as regulations can make them.
“A place for general conference in the centre of
England might be fixed upon for the meeting of delegates from all the L. Unions
if their harmony could not be organised by correspondence. But whether such a
central meeting of delegates from the unions might be necessary or not for
general management, yet still the committee think that the assembly of
representatives from so many literary and scientific bodies in the centre of
the kingdom, and the distribution of prizes for essays of preeminent merit,
would be an inspiring spec-
266 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
tacle—bringing England
nearer than she is in resemblance to ancient Greece.”
There is some wildness in the foregoing scheme, which, being modified,
finally formed the groundwork of the club. The committee and members, after several
preliminary meetings at the British Coffee House, moved into Waterloo Place, taking
possession of the house once occupied by the “Athenæum.” On the 21st of April,
1831, Campbell read a paper on the “Geography of the Ancients,” but no one followed it up.
The club being got into full working, the committee met weekly, the poet
in the chair, and it was curious to observe, after a few meetings had taken place, and the
novelty was worn off, how restless he would become. While business was transacting, he
would talk politics or sport idle jokes. “Come, Mr. Chairman,” a member
of the committee would say, “I have a pressing call elsewhere at another
committee-room; I can only afford an hour—let us stick to business, for I must
walk off.” For a few minutes all would go on well, and then there would be a
fresh outbreak, about something, or in fact anything, but the business in hand. The
poet’s restlessness was incurable, and the business of the hour was gone through in
despite of it, as seven out of twenty members, who yet survive, can bear witness. The
business of such committees is strictly secret, yet there were
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 267 |
two
instances of things getting known, for which it is to be feared he was blameable, who never
reflected on consequences at the times, when over a glass of wine, he heedlessly let out
his tale to some “good-natured friend.” One of the members of the committee was
Mr. Smirnove, the son of the chaplain to the
Russian embassy, himself a Russian diplomatic secretary, and very gentlemanly man. The
elder Smirnove had been an old acquaintance of the poet, and had been
dead some years. In the committee Smirnove objected to a certain Pole,
who was a candidate, and he was not elected. The Pole heard of it, and demanded of the
committee by letter, if it was the fact, that Smirnove, the Russian,
had objected to him. Before any reply was made, I called on Smirnove
in Wigmore Street, and told him what had occurred, we knew not how. “Oh, never
mind, I don’t care if he knows I objected to him—let him know
it.” This reply got wind, and Smirnove was horsewhipped by
the Pole—but how did the Pole know it? The Russian government removed
Smirnove to a still higher situation on the continent than he held
here, in which he died. In the second case, the Literary Union was forming, and the
committee had to elect a hundred members from the list, as the nucleus of the club, which
was to elect all the future candidates. Campbell was
not present at the com-268 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
mittee meeting that day. Among other names,
that of “Omnipresence Montgomery,”
as he was generally called, was announced as desirous of being a member. As the committee
only selected a given number of members, to form the nucleus of the club, and constitute a
sufficient body to choose by ballot—I remarked, that the applicant just named, was
reported, truly or falsely, no matter, to have added to his real name of
Gomery, the letters which gave him the same name as Montgomery of Sheffield, and people, as both published
poetry, mistook one for the other. That as such things had been said, was it not better to
leave him to be chosen by the ballot? The club could then act as it felt inclined, because
it was a Literary club. The name was left for the ballot
accordingly, and was never put up.*
* The following letter was in consequence written by Montgomery to the poet, in which, after the writer had
requested Campbell’s acceptance of a copy
of one of his works just published, and declared he did not send it for a notice in the
magazine, he proceeded—not alluding to the addition to his name on which the
matter had turned:—
“You will not like me the less for being candid.
A few plain words then. I cannot but feel that you have not treated me with
that common generosity which ought to be the characteristic of every
refined mind. I never courted your favour, nor feared your criticisms; but
was it possible for me not to notice the strange fact, that while the most
frivolous and ephemeral publications of the day had their quantum of New Monthly comments bestowed upon
them, not a word was condescendingly devoted to any
|
|
MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. |
269 |
He expressed apprehensions to his friends of being answerable as a
trustee for the Literary
work of mine? If you thought my
poems trash, you might have said so; but to allow them during your
editorship to be passed by with affected neglect, excited more
observations among literary men than I choose to repeat. However, there
were those, both in my own country and abroad, that treated me in a far
nobler manner. “While I am thus venting a manly, but not
ill-tempered statement, I must add another proof of your feelings,
which reached me from one who was present—though at the time, I
knew too well what was due to myself to notice it. When one of the
committee proposed me as a member for the ‘Literary Union,’
you rose up and said I had tried to pass myself off for Mr. James Montgomery. The fact I deny
with unutterable contempt, and am sorry that the author of the
‘Pleasures of
Hope,’ could have condescended to have done himself
such injustice, the word was the statement you made. No one is more
ready than myself to acknowledge the beauty of Mr. James
Montgomery’s writings, but I never wanted his
name, nor envied him his reputation, and I would sooner let— ‘The flesh-fly blow in my mouth,’ |
than be guilty of ought so unmanly and dishonourable. “With every courteous wish, I remain &c.
&c. The betrayal by a member of the committee stating any fact which
took place in it, I do not believe of gentlemen bound in honour to secrecy. The
letter of one so overridden by self-conceit, showing a breach of trust in the
knowledge obtained, was not worth an answer, and it was not answered; but I fear
Campbell himself let the secret out,
from my relation of it to him on his having been absent. |
270 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
Union, on the bank of Sir G.
Ducket failing, a thing that entered no one’s head but his own. There
were four other trustees. This exhibits more of his peculiar character, and habit of
raising things in which he was in any way concerned into undue importance, as if by so
doing he raised the estimation of his own personality. The house of Drummond and Co. handsomely tendered a credit to the club
at once, on the fact being made known to it. It was on the same ground he shut himself up
to write the “Life of Lawrence,” and
referred all who wanted any communication with him regarding the New Monthly, or the club, to myself—a thing I did not
know of at the moment. I only heard it from a third party. Nobody regarded his seclusion to
write the “Life of Lawrence,” which he at length
declared too heavy a task for him, and besides, he had no real knowledge of art. Next he
made the parturition of his “Life of
Mrs. Siddons” as much a matter of notoriety as if the product were to be
an expected prince of the blood royal. Campbell, whose knowledge of
Mackintosh had not been long-continued before
the latter went out to Bombay, had renewed his acquaintance upon the return of his friend
from India. Their friendship was only interrupted by the death of
Mackintosh. With that kindness which was characteristic of the
poet, he would with difficulty | MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 271 |
admit, and would hardly ever record
the faults of his friends, thus disregarding that claim to the character of a biographer,
which is a manifest duty. He would only write in accordance with his predispositions. He
seemed to feel the implication laid upon another as applying to himself, from closely
identifying himself with his subject, and from that charitable allowance he was ever ready
to concede to human failings. He suffered feeling to predominate, and as he was not fond of
seeking for excuses to palliate what he could not defend, generally passed over in silence
what he felt he could not record without dissatisfaction. He now wrote a notice of Mackintosh, recently no more. Parr, with whom Mackintosh was equally
a favourite, and who would suffer no one to snub Mackintosh but
himself, never forgot his conduct, when having most fully and triumphantly answered
Burke in his “Vindiciæ Gallicæ,” having occasion afterwards
to make that apologist of despotism a visit at Beaconsfield, he found himself in one short
day confessing that Burke had converted him to the other side. He then
employed himself in delivering lectures at Lincoln’s Inn, indirectly subversive of
the very principles to which he owned all his celebrity. This he never recovered when he
rejoined his former party. It was impossible he could recover such a step without pro-272 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
ducing something to which his abilities, great as they were
considered, were not equal; something that should retrieve the past, and hold out still
greater hopes for the future. But he never realized such an expectation.
Parr was often sarcastic upon him to his face, and once had a
difference with him. Steadfast in the soundness of his own principles, he could not forget
the lapse in those of Mackintosh, giving
“Jemmy,” as he called him rather hard hits in
after-dinner society. Not so Campbell, his plan was to overlook or
pass in silence all faults, as if any man were free from them.
It was precisely in this spirit that the poet put together a short
memoir of Mackintosh, immediately after his decease,
in 1832. In his estimate of the acquirements of Mackintosh, he was
most correct, although he gave him credit for more Greek than he really possessed; but no
man possessed such a range of varied knowledge—so much universality. In this state of
things Campbell wrote the first part of a brief
notice of Mackintosh, which he styled, rather too fully, “The Life and Writings of Sir James Mackintosh.” When I had
read it, I observed the mode in which the temporary apostacy of
Mackintosh had been slurred over, I presumed, as really was the
fact, from the kindly feeling of the poet towards his old friend’s memory. It was
impossible not to
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 273 |
notice the lectures at Lincoln’s Inn, where
Mackintosh was refused the use of the Hall, on account of the
“Jacobinical principles,” as it was the fashion to charge all persons with
possessing, who did not fling themselves, bound hand and foot, at the feet of the minister.
The Hall was finally granted, at the request of Mr.
Pitt and Lord Loughborough; but it was
after Mackintosh had declared his conversion by Mr.
Burke, for Pitt would not have interfered but from some
latent motive. Now Campbell mentioned
Pitt’s eulogy on the lectures, but left the reader wholly in
the dark upon the subject of Mackintosh’s tergiversation. The
following is the passage, as Campbell wrote it. It must be observed,
too, that Campbell had just been eulogising the “Vindiciæ Gallicæ,” and applauding
Mackintosh’s reply to Burke respecting
church property. It was as if the poet imagined that by his passing over the change in the
opinions of Mackintosh, and the bearing of the “Lectures on Moral Polity,” the change and the bearing would
never be regarded; as if, in fact, the poet thought his own version of the matter was all
that the world would ever have, and that, therefore, Mackintosh would remain clear of the
charge, not by its palliation or removal, but by its being forgotten through his own
neglect of an incident so remarkable:—
“In his ‘Vindiciæ Gallicæ,’” said Campbell,
274 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
“he had shown the power of a great
advocate on a great political subject, but still with a certain degree of special
pleading. But now, in his ‘Lectures on Moral
Polity,’ he took up a more lofty station. He placed the nations of the
world, in all their relative social bearings, before the tribunal of philosophy, and he
defined their rights, their duties, and obligations, with a precision that well
justified William Pitt’s words, when he
said to Mackintosh, ‘I have no motive
in wishing to please you; but I must be permitted to say, that I have never met
with anything so able or so elegant on the subject in any
language.’”
Now, it must seem strange and suspicious enough, that so austere and
even virulent an enemy as William Pitt towards his
former friends and former principles, should thus gratuitously eulogise so daring and
successful an opponent as the author of the “Vindiciæ Gallicæ,” without any apparent cause,
and Campbell gave none. He said not one word of
Mackintosh’s change of principle which
would have accounted for the eulogy, but proceeded:—
“In those lectures on the ‘Law of
Nature and Nations,’ Mackintosh, with the eye of a true philosopher, laid bare the doctrines of
Rousseau, Vattel, and a host of their followers, who borrowed their conceptions
of the Law of Nature
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 275 |
from the savages of the forest, or from the
abodes of the brute creation. In order to establish a false theory, those men assumed
that man was always out of his natural state when he was removed in the smallest degree
from barbarism. Mackintosh dispelled this error. Speaking of the
Law of Nature—because its general precepts are essentially adapted to promote the
happiness of man as long as he remains a being of the same nature with which he is at
present endowed, or, in other words, as long as he continues to be man, in all the
variety of times, places, and circumstances, in which he has been known or can be
imagined to exist; because it is discernible by natural reason, and suitable to our
general constitution; because its fitness and wisdom are founded on the general nature
of human beings, and not on any of those temporary and accidental situations in which
they may be placed. It is still with more propriety, and the most perfect accuracy,
considered as a law, when, according to those just and magnificent views which
philosophy and religion open to us of the government of the world—it is received
and reverenced as the sacred code, promulgated by the Great Legislator of the universe,
for the guidance of his creatures to happiness, guarded and enforced, as our own
experience may inform us, by the penal sanctions of shame, of remorse, of infamy, and
of misery; 276 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
and still further enforced by the reasonable
expectation of yet more awful penalties in a future and more permanent state of
existence.”
Now, because some of the more fanatical of the French revolutionary
characters, in the worst times of excess, did support an extravagant opinion upon the Law
of Nature, and that such an opinion was charged upon all who were friendly to human freedom
in England, by the ministry that day, Mackintosh, by
thus touching upon the Law of Nature in a mode adverse to those whom he had just before
upheld in the “Vindiciæ
Gallicæ,” struck at all his old friends a severe sideblow, and highly
gratified the ministerialists. He struck, too, at the end of all human improvement at the
same time. In this way Campbell ought to have put
it. I found, however, in the course of conversation, that, as usual, he wished to cover the
sins of his friend—I verily believe out of pure kindness, and the wholesome, though
hardly, in such a case, justifiable impulses of his own partiality.
Mackintosh gave great promise in the “Vindiciæ Gallicæ,” but Parr
estimated him better than Campbell. He left no work of endurance
behind him, and he had laid himself open to attack whichever side he took as a political or
philosophical controversialist. His universality of knowledge must be admitted. He was one
of the most amiable of men, and the most delightful
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 277 |
of all society,
and not conceited and dogmatical like Coleridge. As
Campbell truly observed, also, he was too great a man for the
House of Commons, where candid, sound argument, closely reasoned, is as much out of place
as a ship upon dry land.
Remarking the omission to the poet he said he had passed it over
because he did not like to record anything to the disadvantage of one whom he so much
esteemed. But though you have passed it over others will not, and then do you not think
when it comes out in some other piece of biography, people will not accuse you of error?
They will say how could Pitt panegyrize Mackintosh in such a manner after the “Vindiciæ Gallicæ.” The bitter
opponent as Mackintosh had thus shown himself to the minister’s
measures; will not the whole story of Burke’s
conversion of him come out, and the world ask why you omitted it?
“I will not state anything injurious to the memory of an old
friend and a great man. Others may if they please. Mackintosh did wrong, but I will not perpetuate the remembrance of his
error.”
“But the interest of truth and the necessity of accounting for
what else will seem an omission, do you not think it will be remarked?”
“If it is, it must be—I cannot bring myself to
278 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
drag his faults before the world, I must leave the matter as it
is.”
“But you have alluded to his lectures on moral polity, and yet
have not remarked that their bearing was adverse to his previous tenets—to all
that had gained him his celebrity. That he had undoubtedly ministered to the enemies of
sound principles in these lectures in a mode in which no man who was grounded in the
principles he had previously avowed could have done without a positive lowering of his
character, both with friends and enemies.”
“There may be truth in what you say, but you know he did not
continue that line of conduct—he saw what we all see and know who are acquainted
with the events of that day. We know that Pitt’s policy was injurious but for a time, and that all
Burke’s eloquent fulminations against
what were called ‘French principles,’ written now would be thought
ridiculous. Time has proved the falsity of his notions. There is Paine’s ‘Rights of Man,’ not a member on either side
in the House of Commons would now censure that work. Indeed Pitt
acknowledged that the greater part of it was unanswerable; it was impolitic to permit
it to circulate—that was all. Mackintosh
came back to the side of sound principle and lived long enough to repent of his
aberration.”
|
MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. |
279 |
“But,” said I, “you have eulogized the
lectures upon the portion that attacked the false theories of Rousseau and others in respect to nature, but you have
not mentioned his attack upon the principles of reform, his ridicule of human amendment
in any shape, his support of every thing existing as the best of what could be under an
imperfect system.”
“I have not done so, and passed that over on purpose, his
conversion by Burke was but momentary; he came
back from India a convert to his first principles.”
“Yes,” I observed, “Dr.
Parr said that to me at Hatton, ‘Jemmy was
only estranged for a time.’ India brought him back by his separation from
the influence of parties at home and years of leisure in unbiassed
reflection.”
“I cannot alter what I have said now,” answered the
poet, “it is distasteful to cast even slight censure on old friends, especially on
those to whom the world in our day shows so few parallels—no, no, we must spare
such men for the sake of their paucity.”
Here I saw that if I prolonged the conversation I should annoy him. His
slight memoir of Mackintosh was one
of those evidences of Campbell’s cursory
treatment even of favourite subjects which he desired to do well, but of which he was too
idle to go back, read on, recall and weigh the
280 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
incidents and
bearings. It is consequently unsatisfactory. He terminated the conversation by saying,
“You were a true prophet about him.” I had forgotten to what he
alluded, when he explained it by recalling to my recollection that I thought Mackintosh would be the next to follow Lawrence, to which I have before made reference, speaking
of the means by which Campbell became acquainted with
Lawrence’s decease.
Though no one could go more closely into a subject than Campbell upon paper in his study, yet his naturally
impatient disposition made him, in articles like that of Mackintosh, catch only at salient points of character, and the more
prominent events that presented themselves, and slur over others. His long knowledge of
this eminent man would lead to the expectation that he would have described some traits of
the individual, from his personal knowledge, but the poet was not a nice observer of human
action. He would penetrate sometimes intuitively, into motive and character, but he had no
idea of forming a judgment of men in society by nice observation, and of perpetuating what
he thus observed by committing it to writing. I take it that his abstracted habit unfitted
him for this. His reserve at times was not that of occupation with external things, but
rather with what was foreign to all that surrounded him. In society he often took a lively
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 281 |
and animated part, but this was always action upon impulse,
according to his momentary feeling. He did not go into society to observe men, and was
often a stranger to the singularities and even the opinions expressed in his presence, that
it might be thought could not possibly have escaped him. When, however,
Campbell directed his attention to such things, which he would do
when he had doubts of a man being what others represented him, he would keenly examine
every peculiarity and treasure it up.
Cochrane, a publisher, in Waterloo Place, who had
been once in Colburn’s employment, made an
application to the present narrator, whether he thought Campbell would give his name as editor to a new magazine: he was to send
such contributions as he saw fit, to reside where he liked, and receive three hundred
a-year, as such a work would not bear more; but Cochrane promised to
take off the stock of the poet’s works still in Colburn’s
hands, which he had not money to do as he promised. To this Campbell
assented. He had quitted Middle Scotland Yard, and gone to reside at 31, Upper Eaton
Street, Pimlico. From thence he got rooms for a study in Sussex chambers, Duke Street, St.
James’s, and then ran down to Hastings, where he took lodgings, close to the sea,
between St. Leonards and the old town, on the right hand side of the road, so that
282 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
the waves came up to his window. He sent up to town at different
times some of his contributions, for he remained there until past Christmas, 1832.
As on many other occasions the promise of his poetry was sometimes not
kept. In one instance, I did not go down to St. Leonards as soon as I intended, and I had
the following letter about some verses near the end of December, in place of last days of
November. Kindness was a remarkable characteristic of the poet, which his peculiar mode of
acting did not lead some persons to imagine from their own observations, to anything like
the magnitude to which he was disposed to carry his generous feelings. His absences from
London, during the long years of our literary intercourse were numerous, and on one or two
occasions considerable in length. It seldom happened that I did not get from him some
confidential commission in the way of charity often in a pecuniary form, though he had not
money enough to be as extensively generous as his feelings prompted him to be.
Xmas, —— St. Leonards.
“My dear Sir,
“In consequence of what you say, print the verses. I hardly know what title they should have.
Perhaps, after all, the one I have given will
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 283 |
do—but pray let me have a proof. You will get the letter, Monday,
to-morrow morning, and by to-night’s mail I can have a packet Tuesday
morning, and I could send it back by the coach of that day, so that we have
time.
* * * * *
“I am almost at my last pound, for that poor,
blustering creature has sent me not a farthing of my arrears, but I have
enclosed two pounds which I shall be singularly obliged to you to see given to
the object for whom they are meant, for the person who has written to me about
her distress is a man unknown to me, so that I do not choose to trust him. The
unfortunate creature to whom I crave your kindness to take these two
sovereigns, is a Mrs. G——, at No. 5,
—— Street. I never had one feeling of interest in that hapless
woman, but a perception of something in her nature and character ill-fitted for
the wretched life which she leads, from which I have made many endeavours to
snatch her, and shall not cease to make them. But I shall be obliged to her to
tell me if the child which she has with her be the same about whom I interested
M——, in hopes that he might get her into a
place at the Opera House.”
The Metropolitan had its
name from the publisher and myself alone, and the first number
284 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
appeared May 1st, 1831. The first article was “,” the
paper spoken of before, as read at the Literary Union, on the 27th of the preceding month.
This paper made a sheet, and was ready for the printer’s hand. Sir Charles Morgan, Mr.
Hogarth, Lady Morgan, Charles M’Kenzie, Cyrus
Redding, Captains Chamier and
Marryat, Mr.
Wilmot, &c. furnished the prose; and Augustine Wade, Allan Cunningham,
the Rev. Mr. Thompson, and Cyrus Redding, the
poetry of the number. The contributions of Campbell,
for which he received five hundred pounds very nearly, and those were all he contributed to
the magazine, for he never inspected a single paper, unless it was one he obtained from a
friend, until the property became that of Captain Marryat, were
“Lines on a View from St.
Leonards,” “Lines on
Poland,” “Lines on
the Camp Hill, near Hastings,” “Lines on a blank leaf of La Peyrouse’
Voyage,” the “Power of
Russia,” “Benediction on Children,” “The Cherubs,” “On the Life and Writings of Mackintosh,”
“Lines on a Girl in the Attitude of
Prayer.”
This was a small bill of fare. It was in fact, paying him for his name
alone. He talked at the same time of his labours in the work, just as if they were real. It
was in the spring of 1832
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 285 |
that Valpy, to whom the publisher had secretly mortgaged the work, wrote to me.
We had before spoken of its state:—
“Dear Sir—I cannot
but think the magazine in its
present improving state worth the 1000l., more
particularly if Mr. Campbell, yourself,
and two other satisfactory persons divided the property. If the Monthly Magazine sinks, a considerable
rise will take place. The same arguments for the two years would of course
remain in force over the assigned work. If Mr.
C. desire it, I will retain a share, otherwise only print it, if
a new proprietary continue their confidence in me. I shall be at the ballot at
the L. U. to-morrow at four p.m.
“I am,
“Yours truly,
“I understood that Captain M. and Mr. M. would take
shares?”
In this state of things, when about to get the property out of the
publisher’s hands, the matter was put an end to by a singular event. Campbell, still at St. Leonards, on my running down to see
him, told me (it was to be in confidence) that Captain
C——, R.N., had had a share for some time in the Metropolitan, and had kept it a
286 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
secret. I was surprised that Campbell had not
told me of this before, as our confidence had been for so many years unlimited. He pleaded
the injunction to secrecy. I told him that I would not have held a share without being more
certain of Cochrane’s solvency—he might
be made a partner. He said he had borrowed money and paid it over. I replied, “So
much the worse,” and he became alarmed. In the meanwhile, poor
C——, who, in the terms upon which we stood, was
disingenuous in not telling me he had taken a share with Cochrane,
still kept his secret, until Valpy took the
property. I should have soon stopped his having a share had I known his intention; but a
man of honour is more liable than another to be imposed upon. No doubt he was himself bound
to secrecy by Cochrane for obvious ends.
The whole now came out. Valpy’s scheme of dividing up the magazine terminated in Captain Marryat buying it altogether of
Valpy, full of the notion that because he could write a good
novel, he was equal to anything in literature. In the meanwhile I was served with a
citation to give evidence in an action at law, brought by the creditors of Cochrane against Captain
C—— as a partner of Cochrane’s. I
could not give evidence regarding what I did not know, and all parole evidence, when I got
into the witnesses’ box, was
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 287 |
set aside by a document signed by
the Captain himself, which made him in law answerable. He therefore paid a large sum to
compromise the affair, and showed himself highly honourable in repaying Campbell his advance. The truth is,
C—— was shamefully ill-treated, as a man of honour is
certain to be in dealing with an artful trader.
Campbell’s nominal editorship was retained
until October, 1832, and at Christmas I quitted the concern, just reversing what had
happened in the case of the New Monthly, where
the poet remained about the same space of time after me. Moore, Montgomery of Sheffield, and
Moir, the
“Delta” of Blackwood’s Magazine, had joined us before the failure of the publisher.
Campbell, who thought because Marryat was an old acquaintance, he could go on as usual, found out his
mistake, and resigned the name of editor, which de
facto he never had been.
While at St. Leonards, walking out one day, when I had gone down to see
him from town, a mutual friend with us asked a gruff-looking farmer the way. The man was
grubbing up nettles. The bear bad him “follow his nose.” “He is too
busy to answer you,” said the poet; “don’t you see, he is
gathering his own laurels.”
The death of Mrs. Siddons, and
the request she made of the poet, that he would be her biogra-
288 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
pher,
had caused him to set about the task as a reluctant duty. The style of the book is foreign
to that of his former works. It is a biography on stilts. When he thought he was earnest
and effective, he was really inflated and unprofitable. It was an undertaking that, after
all, few or none could succeed in. There can be no record of mind in the sayings of those
whose lives are spent in doing no more than repeating the sayings of others, the whole
matter being as to whether those sayings are well or ill declaimed. His sense of the weight
of his task was almost ludicrously expressed. Most others in similar circumstances retire
out of sight and go heartily at work, but Campbell
for a long time almost converted his employment into an advertisement for the book. He
talked of it, and wrote about it to everybody to whom he wrote anything else. He put up a
little paper notice at the door of his chambers, as lawyers do in the Temple, when they go
out or lock themselves in, saying they are absent,—“parcels and letters,”
so and so. The poet, in his simplicity, stuck up a notice that he could not be disturbed,
being busy about the biography of Mrs.
Siddons. For a time he had but that one idea. I asked him what were become of
all the rest, that he had been fifty-five years in acquiring.
“O, my dear friend, you cannot imagine what a burthen I have
brought upon myself!”
|
MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. |
289 |
“It is only because you think it so; you have never been
accustomed to that kind of work.”
“I have promised to finish it, and I will; but it will knock
me up.”
Then I would strive to turn the conversation, and ask him a question,
to which I really wanted a reply. I got only a remark about Mrs. Siddons in return. I remember telling him he was like a pretty girl I
once knew in the country, who was deaf.
“How! I am not deaf, though this cursed book will make me
deaf, and blind too, before long.”
“Why,” I replied, “because if I ask you
about anything else, I get Mrs. Siddons as an
answer. That pretty girl I once addressed:—‘Mary, good morning,—how
do you do to-day?’ She replied: ‘Gone up the Mediterranean, my dear
creature!’ The fact was, she had a sweetheart in the navy, of whom she was always
thinking, and she supposed you must be doing the same.”
“Don’t play the philosopher,” continued
Campbell. “Mrs. Siddons was a divine creature.”
“A divine actress, but an ordinary woman. You are referring to
our old disputes about her, that poor Mrs.
Campbell used to hear so patiently.”
290 |
LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND |
|
“It is clear you have not changed your notions about
her.”
“Nor my admiration of her as an actress—she was
transcendent; but as a woman it is a different affair. She was majestic, certainly, but
not very feminine. You are a little man, and little men, they say, are fond of
giantesses, and gigantic men of little women. I must have feminine women. Byron said he should as soon think of going to bed with
the archbishop of Canterbury as with Mrs.
Siddons.”
“You iconoclast!”
I was always a philosopher or an iconoclast with the poet.
“Because I demolish the ‘idols of your
mind.’”
“You can’t do that, but you try hard for it.”
In 1832, he lost his cousin, Captain Robert
Campbell, whom he had introduced to me some years preceding.
A publication was got out in favour of the Poles, called “Polonia, or Monthly Reports on Polish Affairs.”
The first number was published in August, 1832. I forget who was the editor. My hands were
so full of other business at the time, that though I attended one or two meetings, it was
all the participation I was able, through pressure of different affairs, to take in the
matter. The society was called “The Association of the Friends of Poland.”
Thomas Campbell was pre-
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 291 |
sident, the Earl of Camperdown, Lord Panmure, G. W. Beaumont,
Esq., M.P., and T. Wyse, Esq., M.P.,
were vice-presidents. There was a council consisting of fifteen members, among whom were
W. Crawford, Esq., Colonel de Lacy
Evans, M. Gore, Esq., W. A.
Mackinnon, Esq., M.P., C. Mackenzie,
Esq., Captain J. Norton, G. Webster,
Esq., and others. There were also a treasurer and honorary secretary. The
latter was Mr. Bach, on whose zealous shoulders the
weight of the labour really fell, and to whom all the Polish exiles were deeply indebted.
Campbell worked in the cause for a considerable time, at least, a
considerable time for him. He would not give up his work to dine with friends for whom he
had a strong regard. There was Mrs. L. M——, a great
favourite of his, and justly a favourite with all who valued amiable temper, purity of
heart, and attractive manners, cut off by death in the very bloom of existence, since the
poet—one who was the kindest of mothers and the sincerest of friends. Even with her
Campbell would not break off his labour to dine. He had half
promised, but sent the following playful excuse:—
“My dear L.,—I
can’t dine with you to-day. The prince* (who, by the way, promised yesterday to be godfather to
your bairn) made such important criticisms on the address, and struck out
292 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
such new lights, that I must have some hours to correct
it.
Bach took down notes from his
remarks, and was to put them together for my use yesterday; but when we came
home from the Prince to our chambers, he was so knocked up that he called for
wine, and I was obliged to join the ‘man of the temperance society’
in a bottle of sherry, which we half consumed.”
(Here the poet had drawn with a pen a couple of figures,
representing himself and his friend B. at
work, that which represented the poet crying out “Shame, Mr.
Temperance Society!” to his friend).
“This morning B——
sent me word that he could not get the notes finished last night, so I must
wait his leisure to-day, and I cannot be certain of being disengaged even at
six, so don’t expect me. The address must be ready for the newspapers
this night, or else we shall not get them to publish it.
“Yours very truly,
So we dined without him, for I was myself of the party.
A lady whom I have mentioned before, could not get him to dine. She had
sent him a gold pen as a present, but she got only the usual reason for a refusal:—
|
MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. |
293 |
“Christmas Day, 1832.
“My dear Mrs. M——.
With the beautiful pen in my hand, I thank you, with all
my heart, for your Christmas present. I never in my life received a prettier or
more welcome one.
“I am, indeed, a downright galley-slave in this
biography that I am
writing, and obliged to have written by a certain day, and spin it out to two
volumes. I literally see none of my friends,—but the first exception
shall be your honoured self. “Believe me, your sincere friend,
Had the poet not assumed so singular a style, and one so different from
his usual classical elegance in composition, although little could be said for the biography of Mrs. Siddons, as the work of
so able a man as Campbell, beyond what others, less
gifted, could have produced, it would be difficult to say how any thing more could have
been made of what had no stamina in itself, and no startling matter to work upon, nothing
but “indescribable merit to describe.” It is the most difficult of all
difficult things in authorship, to produce elaborate works out of materials remarkable for
their intellectual poverty, the fleeting recollections of illusive personification. Yet the
great expectation of such a piece of biography must be almost wholly founded upon what can
be
294 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
thus effected if it is to differ from that of common place
existences.
The poet still kept close at work, and for some time was not seen by
any one, though he had got rid to another of Lawrence’s biography. He told me he had promised Mrs. Siddons to write her life, and that, therefore, he
could not break his word. He talked to all who had known the great actress about her and
her family; he wrote letters of inquiry in all directions, and everything he obtained made
but an unsatisfactory mass of material, as far as respected entertaining fact or
interesting adventure. The incidents in the life of an actress of the highest class, of
staid manners, and plain good sense, could not be expected to abound in incident. All those
little points of action, that chit-chat and anecdote recorded of theatrical ladies in
general, were, to say nothing of less moral incidents and their attendant circumstances,
necessarily wanting in the life of one so lofty in feeling and pure in morals as
Mrs. Siddons. Though the greatest actress that ever trod the
stage, her real excellencies could not be described, more than half of them depending upon
vision.
What was there besides her acting in which she was superior to many
others of her sex? She was not a woman of genius; and she was not a woman of reading beyond
her profession. The
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 295 |
poet owned himself that a young girl would write
letters as good as those of Mrs. Siddons. The very
nobility of her person and her serious deportment, showed that the quips and cranks of
comedy, sometimes seasoned with an actor’s own wit in performing, were not her
accompaniments to startle or amuse. In truth, Campbell’s motto, signifying that the animated graces of the player
live no longer than the breath and motion that represent them, was, in Mrs.
Siddons, eminently true. Nor in her conversation, that I ever heard myself,
or ever heard others state, was there anything worthy of record upon paper. She was not a
De Staël. Yet, in spite of all this, how truly
great she was on the boards, and how high the general feeling of respect was for her, need
not be repeated. In this feeling all fully participated.
There was another circumstance unfitting Campbell for such a task. He had gone to the theatre as any other spectator
would, a mere spectator; he had never mixed, as a matter of amusement, with the Thespian
corps behind the scenes, as was common in former times for dramatic authors to do. He was
not versed, if it may be so termed, in the patois
of the theatre, a thing in some degree necessary, to write about it with ease, and to be
“at home” upon the subject in treating of a common, much less an epic, actor
296 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
or actress.
Campbell was never a man of the world in the sense that would be
attributed to the term by play-goers. He was a solitary student, the matter of whose prose
writings was drawn from a knowledge of books, acquired in seclusion, whose poetry was kept
down by rule, and whose genius, even in its admiration of natural things, he carefully
clipped of every exuberance. His simple, and, by fits and starts, boyish levity of temper
had no affinity with the artificial theatre-going folk. He was, on all these accounts,
unfit for the task he undertook. Is his book, then, worthless? It may be honestly replied
in the negative. If he has not produced anything that has conferred additional fame upon
his literary character, still he has said all that could be said, and left unrecorded
nothing that such a subject would admit of being recorded in its regard, but he has erred,
and egregiously too, in the manner of saying it.
Early in 1833, I went to South Lancing, where I put together my book on
the History of Wine. I returned,
published it, and the first edition was nearly sold before the Life of Mrs. Siddons appeared. I found, too, that Campbell had been lodging at Highgate, and then in Old
Cavendish Street, so restless was he as to domicile, after his wife’s decease. This
was a marked trait in his character. His Life of Mrs.
| MEMOIRS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. | 297 |
Siddons was not published until 1834. In the copy
with which he presented me, he wrote his autograph, as usual. I believe it did not reach a
second edition. Expectation had been kept too long on the stretch, and too much was
expected. The public is like a spoiled child, if kept without its toy for a little time, it
turns in the interim to other things, and when the long-expected bauble appears, regards it
with indifference. This is well known to keen-scented bibliopolists, who calculate to a
fraction of an hour how long the many-headed monster may be stimulated before reaction
ensues, and accordingly play the game commensurate with the most satisfactory conclusion.
The review of the
“Life of Mrs. Siddons,”
not being Murray’s copyright, was roughly
treated in the “Quarterly Review.”
The effect was much less moving upon Campbell than
might be expected. He was prepared for something of the kind, and must have been conscious
his book was not up to the mark. That he repressed his feelings was evident. In referring
to it, I laughed off the review, asking how he could expect anything better when for so
many years Whig and Tory had continually damned each other’s works without any regard
to literary merit. He smiled at the hollow consolation, and turned off the subject. He was
grown more obtuse than in former
298 | LITERARY REMINISCENCES AND | |
times, and yet he must have felt
that what he had toiled about, and talked of so long, it was mortifying to see maltreated
by the organ of an opposing party. The suppression of his feelings by his pride, was
difficult; but however keen they were, it was, on the whole, successful. As to the book
itself, it could not have been commended, if it were spared by his friends.
Adolphus Bach (d. 1870)
German lawyer and secretary of the Polish Association, London; he was an associate of
Thomas Campbell.
Thomas Wentworth Beaumont (1792-1848)
Educated at Eton and St John's College, Cambridge, he was a Whig MP for Northumberland
(1818-26) and Stafford (1827-30). He was president of the Literary Association of the
Friends of Poland.
Edmund Burke (1729-1797)
Irish politician and opposition leader in Parliament, author of
On the
Sublime and Beautiful (1757) and
Reflections on the Revolution
in France (1790).
Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)
Scottish poet and man of letters; author of
The Pleasures of Hope
(1799),
Gertrude of Wyoming (1808) and lyric odes. He edited the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30).
Frederick Chamier (1796-1870)
Captain in the Royal Navy, novelist, and naval historian; he published
Life of a Sailor (1832) and
Tom Bowline (1841).
James Cochrane (1848 fl.)
London bookseller who published the
Metropolitan Magazine and
works by James Hogg.
Henry Colburn (1785-1855)
English publisher who began business about 1806; he co-founded the
New
Monthly Magazine in 1814 and was publisher of the
Literary
Gazette from 1817.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
English poet and philosopher who projected
Lyrical Ballads (1798)
with William Wordsworth; author of
Biographia Literaria (1817),
On the Constitution of the Church and State (1829) and other
works.
Allan Cunningham [Hidallan] (1784-1842)
Scottish poet and man of letters who contributed to both
Blackwood's and the
London Magazine; he was author of
Lives of the most Eminent British Painters, Sculptors, and
Architects (1829-33).
Prince Adam Jerzy Czartoryski (1770-1861)
Polish diplomat and politician; in 1832 he founded a Literary Association of the Friends
of Poland in London.
Charles Drummond (1790-1858)
One of Byron's Harrow classmates and correspondents; after attending Christ Church,
Oxford he became a partner in the family's banking business in London.
Sir George Duckett, second baronet (1777-1856)
Originally Jackson; he was a founder of the Literary Union Club and MP for Lymington
(1807-1812) and Plympton Erle (1812); he was deputy lieutenant for Hertfordshire.
Sir George de Lacy Evans (1787-1870)
Born in Ireland and educated at the Woolwich military academy, he served in the
Peninsular War and Waterloo and pursued a political career as a Whig MP.
Sir Francis Freeling, first baronet (1764-1836)
Postal reformer and member of the Roxburghe Club; he was secretary to the General Post
Office. He was a friend of William Jerdan and Sir Walter Scott.
Alexander Farquharson Henderson (1780-1863)
Scottish physician educated at Marischal College and Edinburgh University; he opened a
practice in Mayfair where he was a friend of Samuel Rogers and to the arts. He published
History of Ancient and Modern Wines (1824).
George Hogarth (1783-1870)
Scottish journalist, music critic, and father-in-law of Charles Dickens; with his
brother-in-law James Ballantyne, he bought the
Edinburgh Weekly
Journal (1817); he afterwards wrote for the
Morning
Chronicle and other London papers.
Sir Robert John Wilmot- Horton, third baronet (1784-1841)
Byron's cousin; he was MP for Newcastle under Lyme (1818-30), governor of Ceylon
(1831-37), and was Augusta Leigh's representative at the destruction of Byron's memoir; he
succeeded to his title in 1834.
Sir Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830)
English portrait painter who succeeded Joshua Reynolds as painter in ordinary to the king
(1792); he was president of the Royal Academy (1820).
Charles Kenneth Mackenzie (1788-1862)
After medical studies at the University of Edinburgh he served in the Peninsular War and
pursued a career as a diplomat, civil servant, and journalist.
William Alexander Mackinnon, of Mackinnon (1784-1870)
The chief of clan Mackinnon, he was F.R.S., F.S.A., a founder of the Literary Union Club
and MP for Dunwich (1819-20), Lymington (1831-32, 1835-52), and Rye (1853-65).
Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832)
Scottish philosopher and man of letters who defended the French Revolution in
Vindiciae Gallicae (1791); he was Recorder of Bombay (1803-1812) and
MP for Knaresborough (1819-32).
Frederick Marryat (1792-1848)
Sea-captain and novelist; he published
The Naval Officer, or, Scenes
and Adventures in the Life of Frank Mildmay, 3 vols (1829) and edited the
Metropolitan Magazine (1832-35).
John Martin (1789-1854)
English landscape and historical painter who illustrated
Paradise
Lost in mezzotint (1825-27).
William Ramsay Maule, first baron Panmure (1771-1852)
The second son of George Ramsay, eighth earl of Dalhousie; Scottish aristocrat, MP, and
member of the Whig Club who scandalized his contemporaries by his dissipation. Samuel
Smiles confuses him with his son Fox Maule (1801-74).
James Montgomery (1771-1854)
English poet and editor of the
Sheffield Iris (1795-1825); author
of
The Wanderer of Switzerland (1806) and
The
World before the Flood (1813).
Robert Montgomery (1807-1855)
Originally Gomery; English religious poet whose
The Omnipresence of the
Deity (1828) was widely read and reprinted; he was attacked by Macaulay in the
Edinburgh Review.
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Sir Thomas Charles Morgan (1780-1843)
English physician and philosophical essayist who married the novelist Sydney Owenson in
1812; he was the author of
Sketches of the Philosophy of Morals
(1822). He corresponded with Cyrus Redding.
John Murray II (1778-1843)
The second John Murray began the
Quarterly Review in 1809 and
published works by Scott, Byron, Austen, Crabbe, and other literary notables.
Sir Gore Ouseley, first baronet (1770-1844)
He was ambassador to Persia (1812), privy councilor (1820), and president of the Oriental
Translation Committee (1842).
Thomas Paine (1737-1809)
English-born political radical; author of
Common Sense (1776),
The Rights of Man (1791), and
The Age of
Reason (1794).
Samuel Parr (1747-1825)
English schoolmaster, scholar, and book collector whose strident politics and assertive
personality involved him in a long series of quarrels.
William Pitt the younger (1759-1806)
The second son of William Pitt, earl of Chatham (1708-1778); he was Tory prime minister
1783-1801.
Cyrus Redding (1785-1870)
English journalist; he was a founding member of the Plymouth Institute, edited
Galignani's Messenger from 1815-18, and was the effective editor of
the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30) and
The
Metropolitan (1831-33).
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)
Swiss-born man of letters; author of, among others,
Julie ou la
Nouvelle Heloïse (1761),
Émile (1762) and
Les Confessions (1782).
Sarah Siddons [née Kemble] (1755-1831)
English tragic actress, sister of John Philip Kemble, famous roles as Desdemona, Lady
Macbeth, and Ophelia. She retired from the stage in 1812.
James Smirnove (1754-1840)
Chaplain at the Russian embassy in London; he was a member of the Literary Union Club and
contributed to the
Literary Gazette.
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817)
French woman of letters; author of the novel
Corinne, ou L'Italie
(1807) and
De l'Allemagne (1811); banned from Paris by Napoleon, she
spent her later years living in Germany, Britain, and Switzerland.
Abraham John Valpy (1787-1854)
Son of the Reading schoolmaster Richard Valpy, he was a London printer who specialized in
classical texts. With the poet George Dyer he published 141 volumes of Delphin classics
(1819-30).
Emer de Vattel (1714-1767)
Swiss philosopher and diplomat who wrote on international law.
Joseph Augustine Wade (1801 c.-1845)
Irish composer, poet, and journalist who worked in London from 1821.
Sir Thomas Wyse (1791-1862)
Irish politician and diplomat educated at Trinity College, Dublin; he married Laetitia,
daughter of Lucien Bonaparte, was MP for Tipperary (1830) and Waterford (1835-47), and
British minister at Athens (1849-62).
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. (1817-1980). Begun as the
Edinburgh Monthly Magazine,
Blackwood's assumed the name of its proprietor, William Blackwood after the sixth
number. Blackwood was the nominal editor until 1834.
New Monthly Magazine. (1814-1884). Founded in reaction to the radically-inclined
Monthly Magazine,
the
New Monthly was managed under the proprietorship of Henry
Colburn from 1814 to 1845. It was edited by Thomas Campbell and Cyrus Redding from
1821-1830.
The Quarterly Review. (1809-1967). Published by John Murray, the
Quarterly was instigated by Walter
Scott as a Tory rival to the
Edinburgh Review. It was edited by
William Gifford to 1824, and by John Gibson Lockhart from 1826 to 1853.
Cyrus Redding (1785-1870)
A History and Description of Modern Wines. (London: Whittaker, Treacher and Arnot, 1833). The author's most enduring publication.