Mrs. Gordon's memoir of her father, John Wilson, a volume so
charmingly and tenderly written as to be of interest to those even who
know and care little about that era in the history of English
literature in which "crusty Christopher" and his associates in the
making of "Blackwood's" figured.

It is a significant fact, I think, that the three greatest biographers
the world has known should have been Scotch; it has long been the
fashion to laugh and to sneer at what is called Scotch dulness; yet
what prodigies has not Scotch genius performed in every department of
literature, and would not our literature be poor indeed to-day but for
the contributions which have been made to it by the very people whom we
affect to deride?

John Wilson was one of the most interesting figures of a time when
learning was at a premium; he was a big man amongst big men, and even
in this irreverential time genius uncovers at the mention of his name.
His versatility was astounding; with equal facility and felicity he
could conduct a literary symposium and a cock-fight, a theological
discussion and an angling expedition, a historical or a political
inquiry and a fisticuffs.

Nature had provided him with a mighty brain in a powerful body; he had
a physique equal to the performance of what suggestion soever his
splendid intellectuals made. To him the incredible feat of walking
seventy miles within the compass of a day was mere child's play; then,
when the printer became clamorous, he would immure himself in his
wonderful den and reel off copy until that printer cried "Hold;
enough!" It was no unusual thing for him to write for thirteen hours
at a stretch; when he worked he worked, and when he played he
played--that is perhaps the reason why he was never a dull boy.

Wilson seems to have been a procrastinator. He would put off his task
to the very last moment; this is a practice that is common with
literary men--in fact, it was encouraged by those who were regarded as
authorities in such matters anciently. Ringelbergius gave this advice
to an author under his tuition:

"Tell the printers," said he, "to make preparations for a work you
intend writing, and never alarm yourself about it because it is not
even begun, for, after having announced it you may without difficulty
trace out in your own head the whole plan of your work and its
divisions, after which compose the arguments of the chapters, and I can
assure you that in this manner you