ed in the first instance you are a much
better judge than I am. I think I can command the assistance of a friend
or two here, particularly William Erskine, the Lord Advocate's
brother-in-law and my most intimate friend. In London, you have Malthus,
George Ellis, the Roses, _cum pluribus aliis_. Richard Heber was with me
when Murray came to my farm, and, knowing his zeal for the good cause, I
let him into our counsels. In Mr. Frere we have the hopes of a potent
ally. The Rev. Reginald Heber would be an excellent coadjutor, and when
I come to town I will sound Matthias. As strict secrecy would of course
be observed, the diffidence of many might be overcome. For scholars you
can be at no loss while Oxford stands where it did; and I think there
will be no deficiency in the scientific articles."

Thus instructed, Gifford proceeded to rally his forces. There was no
want of contributors. Some came invited, some came unsought; but, as the
matter was still a secret, the editor endeavoured to secure
contributions through his personal friends. For instance, he called upon
Mr. Rogers to request him to secure the help of Moore.

"I must confess," said Rogers to Moore, "I heard of the new quarterly
with pleasure, as I thought it might correct an evil we had long
lamented together. Gifford wishes much for contributors, and is
exceedingly anxious that you should assist him as often as you can
afford time.... All this in _confidence_ of course, as the secret is not
my own."

Gifford also endeavoured to secure the assistance of Southey, through
his friend, Mr. Grosvenor Bedford. Southey was requested to write for
the first number an article on the Affairs of Spain. This, however, he
declined to do; but promised to send an article on the subject of
Missionaries.

"Let not Gifford," he wrote to Bedford, in reply to his letter, "suppose
me a troublesome man to deal with, pertinacious about trifles, or
standing upon punctilios of authorship. No, Grosvenor, I am a quiet,
patient, easy-going hack of the mule breed; regular as clockwork in my
pace, sure-footed, bearing the burden which is laid on me, and only
obstinate in choosing my own path. If Gifford could see me by this
fireside, where, like Nicodemus, one candle suffices me in a large room,
he would see a man in a coat 'still more threadbare than his own' when
he wrote his 'Imitation,' working hard and getting little--a bare
maintenance, and hardly that; writing poems and history for