And we can hardly imagine a greater instance than Gifford's of the ardent pursuit of knowledge under difficulties; and though his mind must have been extraordinarily gifted by nature, much of his success may be attributed to his own firm determination to educate himself. The cobbler's apprentice had now attained the summit of his wishes; and yet was destined to rise even still higher in the social scale. He does not appear to have competed for any University distinctions; but when he became a rich man, he founded two scholarships at Exeter College, for any native of Ashburton, or, failing such, natives of Devonshire.

He was very remarkable in appearance from the extraordinary formation of his head, which was very long from the forehead to the crown. He was short in stature, with an air of quaint determination about his deportment, which was very characteristic of the man himself, whose temper was at once reserved and defiant. His satirical powers may chiefly be ascribed to his early trials, which had rendered him savage and morbid in youth; caustic and ironical in later life. But he was not ungrateful; and that that was the case, is evidenced by the profound grief with which he mourned Mr. Cookesley's death.

Gifford lost this noble friend while he was yet an undergraduate at Oxford; and he felt such an event -depriving him, as it did, of a benefactor who had rescued him from misery-most deeply and acutely. Shunning society, he mourned his loss in secrecy and despondency; but, fortunately for himself, formed an ardent friendship with a young man named Peters. He was a gifted person, who distinguished himself as an artist, afterwards taking orders in the church; and

he was Gifford's only friend. The two became inseparable; and to this friend he confided his history.

When Mr. Peters left college, which he did sooner than Gifford, he begged his friend to correspond with him; for their tastes and pursuits were similar, forming a bond which made a link between them, when, in busy after days, the one pursued his peaceful quiet life as a clergyman, and the other's course was that of an eminent man of letters. After mathematics, Gifford devoted himself to classics and poetry, and Mr. Peters had done the same; so that, not unnaturally, their letters to each other, when separated, bore on those topics.

The two friends continued to write to each other for some months; and Mr. Peters's letters were all sent to him, by Gifford, under cover, to the Earl Grosvenor. One day, Gifford omitted, unintentionally, to write his friend's name on the enclosed letter. When Lord Grosvenor received it, he thought it was intended for himself. He opened and perused its contents. He was so amazed at the beautiful language it contained, its elevated sentiments, as well as general information, that he perused it carefully a second time; and then, sitting down to his desk, wrote a few lines to Mr. Peters, who was an old friend of Lord Grosvenor's family, to beg him to call on him at once. When that gentleman arrived, Lord Grosvenor, apologising for having opened Gifford's letter, told Mr. Peters how delighted he had been with the ideas and language it contained.

'Tell me at once,' said he, 'who your correspondent is, as I should really value him as an acquaintance.' Mr. Peters told him Gifford's touching history, as he had received it from his friend's lips; and seeing

at once the powerful friend Lord Grosvenor could be to Gifford, he dwelt much on his talents and intelligence-in short, Lord Grosvenor sent for him from Oxford, and through him Gifford was launched in the metropolis, and made his début as a man of letters. Lord Grosvenor's son had been born in 1757, and, consequently, was Gifford's junior by one year. When he was of an age to travel abroad, his father proposed that Gifford should accompany him, as tutor, to the Continent. Most gladly was this kind offer accepted by Gifford, and with much gratitude for the most favourable turn his fortunes had so unexpectedly taken. During the tour, he was treated with the utmost consideration by his pupilthen a most amiable and accomplished young nobleman-while Gifford stored his own mind with every kind of information about the various countries that they visited. On his return home, he received Lord Grosvenor's thanks for his care of his son.

From this period, Gifford's fortune was made. He had a kind and liberal patron in Lord Grosvenor, who, by placing him above want, enabled him to turn all his attention to literature. In 1791, he made his début by publishing 'The Baviad,' a satire in imitation of the first satire of Perseus, directed against the sentimental sickly poetry of the day, nicknamed by him "The Della Cruscan School;' and this satire being followed, in 1794, by The Mæviad,' a satire after Horace, at once established a high standing for him in the literary world. In 1797, he became a weekly contributor to a violent hot-headed periodical, called 'The Anti-Jacobin;' and his satirical effusions in that paper called forth a number of antagonistical attacks in return, from those whom

he assailed by his powerful and bitter wit. When he believed himself to be in the right, there was nothing that he scrupled to say; and among others, who smarted under the severity of that lash, which spared no one, was Peter Pindar, the notorious Dr. Wolcot. That gentleman, who had never felt a moment's forbearance himself for the feelings of others, was indignant at Gifford's censure of his books, and burned for vengeance.

He proceeded to the office of The Anti-Jacobin,' and aimed a blow at Gifford's head, who, however, defended himself so valiantly, that the discomfited bully was forced to beat a timely retreat into the street, where, bleeding and bellowing, he confided his sorrows to the passers-by, thus effectually publishing his defeat to the world. In 1802, Gifford published a translation of Juvenal, to which he appended an autobiographical sketch of his own early life. In 1809, he became editor of the 'Quarterly Review,' then first started in opposition to the Edinburgh Review,' and he filled that office for fifteen years. The popularity of his name made every publisher eager to secure his talented but savage and unscrupulous pen; and, till Gifford had recognised a book, no reputation was secure. He edited several valuable editions of the English dramatists, and generally demolished every preceding editor in his extensive notes and commentaries.

The independence of his character led him never to accept an obligation that would, in the least degree, shackle the free expression of his pen. He belonged to a political party, who, tenacious of power, were eager to strengthen it by every means; but, while harsh, severe, bitter, and implacable, as author and

critic, he was the opposite in private life; singularly sensible of kindness, which he never forgot, and a firm, true, friend. Economical, yet not parsimonious, the powerful editor, who, as a cobbler's apprentice, had so often wanted a shilling, amassed a handsome fortune-twenty-five thousand poundswhich, true to his grateful nature, he bequeathed to the son of his early benefactor, Mr. Cookesley.

Besides a handsome salary as editor of the 'Quarterly,' Gifford held a sinecure Government appointment, which Lord Grosvenor had obtained for him.

In the close of his life, he showed the real nobleness of his character, by the fortitude and determination with which he met death; and his illness, severe asthma, never wrung from him one repining word. Often deprived of speech by its violence, he patiently submitted to sufferings that he knew were inevitable.

How unlike was such a death-bed to that of his former antagonist, Peter Pindar, who, when dying, was asked by a friend, if he desired anything; he replied 'Yes! give me back my youth.' Gifford, on the contrary, when condoled with on the loss of the sight of one eye, and a wish being expressed for his recovery, calmly replied, God has been pleased to grant me a much longer life than I had reason to expect; and I am thankful for it.'

Three days before Christmas, 1826, this distinguished man departed this life in his seventy-first year, having been born in 1756. He was buried in Westminster Abbey; and his career remains striking instance, that by doing one's best, labour overcomes everything.'

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