JAMES HOGG.

The last echoes of the older Border Minstrelsy were dying from the

memory of the aged, and the spirit which had awakened the strains seemed

to have sighed an eternal farewell to its loved haunts in the past,

when, suddenly arousing from a long slumber, it threw the mantle of

inspiration, at the close of last century, over several sons of song,

worthy to bear the lyre of their minstrel sires. Of these,

unquestionably the most remarkable was James Hogg, commonly designated

"The Ettrick Shepherd." This distinguished individual was born in the

bosom of the romantic vale of Ettrick, in Selkirkshire,--one of the most

mountainous and picturesque districts of Scotland. The family of Hogg

claimed descent from Hougo, a Norwegian baron; and the poet's paternal

ancestors at one period possessed the lands of Fauldshope in Ettrick

Forest, and were followers, under the feudal system, of the Knights of

Harden. For several generations they had adopted the simple occupation

of shepherds. On the mother's side, the poet was descended from the

respectable family of Laidlaw,--one of the oldest in Tweeddale, and of

which all the representatives bore the reputation of excelling either in

intellectual vigour or physical energy; they generally devoted

themselves to the pastoral life. Robert Hogg, the poet's father, was a

person of very ordinary sagacity, presenting in this respect a decided

contrast to his wife, Margaret Laidlaw, a woman of superior energy and

cultivated mind. Their family consisted of four sons, of whom the second

was James, the subject of this Memoir. The precise date of his birth is

unknown: he was baptised, according to the Baptismal Register of

Ettrick, his native parish, on the 9th of December 1770.[28]

At the period of his marriage, Robert Hogg was in circumstances of

considerable affluence; he had saved money as a shepherd, and, taking on

lease the two adjoining pastoral farms of Ettrick-hall and

Ettrick-house, he largely stocked them with sheep adapted both for the

Scottish and English markets. During several years he continued to

prosper; but a sudden depression in the market, and the absconding of a

party who was indebted to him, at length exhausted his finances, and

involved him in bankruptcy. The future poet was then in his sixth year.

In this destitute condition, the family experienced the friendship and

assistance of Mr Brydon, tenant of the neighbouring farm of Crosslee,

who, leasing Ettrick-house, employed Robert Hogg as his shepherd. But

the circumstances of the family were much straitened by recent reverses;

and the second son, young as he was, and though he had only been three

months at school, was engaged as a cow-herd, his wages for six months

being only a ewe-lamb and a pair of shoes! Three months' further

attendance at school, on the expiry of his engagement, completed the

future bard's scholastic instructions. It was the poet's lot, with the

exception of these six months' schooling, to receive his education among

the romantic retreats and solitudes of Nature. First as a cow-herd, and

subsequently through the various gradations of shepherd-life, his days,

till advanced manhood, were all the year round passed upon the hills.

And such hills! The mountains of Ettrick and Yarrow are impressed with

every feature of Highland scenery, in its wildest and most striking

aspects. There are stern summits, enveloped in cloud, and stretching

heavenwards; huge broad crests, heathy and verdant, or torn by fissures

and broken by the storms; deep ravines, jagged, precipitate, and

darksome; and valleys sweetly reposing amidst the sublimity of the awful

solitude. There are dark craggy mountains around the Grey-Mare's-Tail,

echoing to the roar of its stupendous cataract; and romantic and

beautiful green hills, and inaccessible heights, surrounding and

towering over St Mary's Loch, and the Loch of the Lowes. To the

sublimity of that vast academy, in which he had learned to invoke the

Muse, the poet has referred in the "Queen's Wake":--

"The bard on Ettrick's mountain green,

In Nature's bosom nursed had been;

And oft had mark'd in forest lone

The beauties on her mountain throne;

Had seen her deck the wildwood tree,

And star with snowy gems the lea;

In loveliest colours paint the plain,

And sow the moor with purple grain;

By golden mead and mountain sheer,

Had view'd the Ettrick waving clear,

When shadowy flocks of purest snow

Seem'd grazing in a world below."

Glorious as was his academy, the genius of the poet was not precocious.

Forgetting everything he had learned at school, he spent his intervals

of toil in desultory amusements, or in pursuing his own shadow upon the

hills. As he grew older, he discovered the possession of a musical ear;

and saving five shillings of his earnings, he purchased an old violin,

upon which he learned to play his favourite tunes. He had now attained

his fourteenth year; and in the constant hope of improving his

circumstances, had served twelve masters.

The life of a cow-herd affords limited opportunities for mental

improvement. And the early servitude of the Ettrick Shepherd was spent

in excessive toil, which his propensities to fun and frolic served just

to render tolerable. When he reached the respectable and comparatively

easy position of a shepherd, he began to think of teaching himself to

read. From Mrs Laidlaw, the wife of the farmer at Willinslee, on which

he served, he was privileged with the loan of two works, of which the

reputation had been familiar to him from childhood. These were Henry the

Minstrel's "Life and Adventures of Sir William Wallace," and the "Gentle

Shepherd" of Allan Ramsay. On these the future poet with much difficulty

learned to read, in his eighteenth year. He afterwards read a number of

theological works, from his employer's collection of books; and among

others of a speculative cast, "Burnet's Theory of the Conflagration of

the Earth," the perusal of which, he has recorded, "nearly overturned

his brain."

At Whitsunday 1790, in his twentieth year, Hogg entered the service, as

shepherd, of Mr James Laidlaw, tenant of Blackhouse,--a farm situate on

the Douglasburn in Yarrow. This proved the most signally fortunate step

which he had yet taken. Mr Laidlaw was a man of singular shrewdness and

of a highly cultivated mind; he readily perceived his shepherd's

aptitude for learning, and gave him the use of his library. But the

poet's connexion with Blackhouse was especially valuable in enabling him

to form the intimacy of Mr William Laidlaw, his master's son, the future

factor and amanuensis of Sir Walter Scott. Though ten years his junior,

and consequently a mere youth at the period of his coming to Blackhouse,

young Laidlaw began early to sympathise with the Shepherd's

predilections, and afterwards devoted a large portion of time to his

society. The friendship which ensued proved useful to both. A MS.

narrative of the poet's life by this unfailing friend, which has been

made available in the preparation of this Memoir, enables us to supply

an authentic account of this portion of his career. "He was not long,"

writes Mr Laidlaw, "in going through all the books belonging to my

father; and learning from me that Mr Elder, bookseller, Peebles, had a

large collection of books which he used as a circulating library, he

forthwith became a subscriber, and by that means read Smollett's and

Fielding's novels, and those voyages and travels which were published at

the time, including those of Cook, Carteret, and others."

The progress of the Shepherd in learning was singularly tardy. He was,

by a persevering course of reading, sufficiently familiar with the more

esteemed writers in English literature, ere he attempted penmanship. He

acquired the art upon the hill-side by copying the Italian alphabet,

using his knees as his desk, and having his ink-bottle suspended from

his button. In his twenty-sixth year he first essayed to write

verses,--an effort attended, in the manual department, with amusing

difficulty, for he stripped himself of his coat and vest to the

undertaking, yet could record only a few lines at a sitting! But he was

satisfied with the fame derived from his verses, as adequate

compensation for the toil of their production; he wrote for the

amusement of the shepherd maidens, who sung them to their favourite

tunes, and bestowed on him the prized designation of "Jamie the Poeter."

At the various gatherings of the lads and lasses in the different

homesteads, then frequent in this pastoral district, he never failed to

present himself, and had golden opportunities of winning the chaplet of

applause, both for the strains of his minstrelsy, and the music of his

violin. These _reunions_ were not without their influence in stimulating

him to more ambitious efforts in versification.

The Shepherd's popularity, while tending the flocks of Mr Laidlaw at

Blackhouse, was not wholly derived from his skill as a versifier, and

capabilities as a musician, but, among the fairer portion of the

creation, was perhaps scarcely less owing to the amenity of his

disposition, combined with the handsomeness of his person. As a

candidate for the honour of feminine approbation, he was successful

alike in the hall and on the green: the rumour of his approach at any

rural assemblage or merry-meeting was the watchword for increased mirth

and happiness. If any malignant rival had hinted aught to his prejudice,

the maidens of the whole district had assembled to vindicate his cause.

His personal appearance at this early period is thus described by Mr

William Laidlaw:--"About nineteen years of age, Hogg was rather above

the middle height, of faultless symmetry of form; he was of almost

unequalled agility and swiftness. His face was then round and full, and

of a ruddy complexion, with bright blue eyes that beamed with gaiety,

glee, and good-humour, the effect of the most exuberant animal spirits.

His head was covered with a singular profusion of light-brown hair,

which he was obliged to wear coiled up under his hat. On entering church

on a Sunday (where he was all his life a regular attender) he used, on

lifting his hat, to raise his right hand to assist a graceful shake of

his head in laying back his long hair, which rolled down his back, and

fell below his loins. And every female eye was upon him, as, with light

step, he ascended the stair to the gallery where he sat."

As the committing of his thoughts to paper became a less irksome

occupation, Hogg began, with commendable prudence, to attempt

composition in prose; and in evidence of his success, he had the

satisfaction to find short essays which he sent to the _Scots Magazine_

regularly inserted in that periodical. Poetry was cultivated at the same

time with unabated ardour, though the bard did not yet venture to expose

his verses beyond the friendly circle of his associates in Ettrick

Forest. Of these, the most judicious was young Laidlaw; who, predicting

his success, urged him to greater carefulness in composition. There was

another stimulus to his improvement. Along with several shepherds in the

forest, who were of studious inclinations, he formed a literary society,

which proposed subjects for competition in verse, and adjudged encomiums

of approbation to the successful competitors. Two spirited members of

this literary conclave were Alexander Laidlaw, a shepherd, and

afterwards tenant of Bowerhope, on the border of St Mary's Lake, and the

poet's elder brother, William, a man of superior talent. Both these

individuals subsequently acquired considerable distinction as

intelligent contributors to the agricultural journals. For some years,

William Hogg had rented the sheep-farm of Ettrick-house, and afforded

shelter and support to his aged and indigent parents. In the year 1800,

he resigned his lease to the poet, having taken another farm on the

occasion of his marriage. James now established himself, along with his

parents, at Ettrick-house, the place of his nativity, after a period of

ten years' connexion with Mr Laidlaw of Blackhouse, whose conduct

towards him, to use his own words, had proved "much more like that of a

father than a master." It was during the course of a visit to Edinburgh

in the same year, that an accidental circumstance gave a wider range to

his poetical reputation. Spending an evening with a party of friends in

the Crown Tavern, he was solicited for a song. He sung the last which he

had composed; it was "Donald Macdonald." The reception was a roar of

applause, and one of the party offered to get it set to music and

published. The song was issued anonymously from the music establishment

of Mr John Hamilton of Edinburgh. Within a few months it was sung in

every district of the kingdom; and, at a period when the apprehended

invasion of Napoleon filled the hearts of the nation with anxiety, it

was hailed as an admirable stimulus to patriotism. In the preparation of

the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," Scott had been largely indebted

to the intelligent peasantry of the south. He was now engaged in making

collections for his third volume, and had resolved to examine the

pastoral inhabitants of Ettrick and Yarrow. Procuring a note of

introduction from his friend Leyden to young Laidlaw, Scott arrived at

Blackhouse during the summer of 1801, and in his native home formed the

acquaintance of his future steward. To his visitor, Laidlaw commended

Hogg as the best qualified in the forest to assist him in his

researches; and Scott, who forthwith accompanied Laidlaw to

Ettrick-house, was more than gratified by an interview with the

shepherd-bard. "He found," writes his biographer, "a brother poet, a

true son of nature and genius, hardly conscious of his powers.... As

yet, his naturally kind and simple character had not been exposed to any

of the dangerous flatteries of the world; his heart was pure; his

enthusiasm buoyant as that of a happy child; and well as Scott knew that

reflection, sagacity, wit and wisdom, were scattered abundantly among

the humblest rangers of these pastoral solitudes, there was here a depth

and a brightness that filled him with wonder, combined with a quaintness

of humour, and a thousand little touches of absurdity, which afforded

him more entertainment, as I have often heard him say, than the best

comedy that ever set the pit in a roar." Scott remained several days in

the forest, daily accompanied in his excursions by Hogg and Laidlaw,

both of whom rapidly warmed in his regard. From the recitation of the

Shepherd's mother, he obtained important and interesting accessions to

his Minstrelsy.

With the exception of the song of "Donald Macdonald," Hogg had not yet

published verses. His _debut_ as an author was sufficiently

unpropitious. Shortly after Scott's visit, he had been attending the

Monday sheep-market in Edinburgh, and being unable to dispose of his

entire stock, was necessitated to remain in the city till the following

Wednesday. Having no acquaintances, he resolved to employ the interval

in writing from recollection several of his poems for the press. Before

his departure, he gave the pieces to a printer; and shortly after, he

received intimation that a thousand copies were ready for delivery. On

comparing the printed sheets with his MSS. at Ettrick, he had the

mortification of discovering "many of the stanzas omitted, others

misplaced, and typographical errors abounding in every page." The little

_brochure_, imperfect as it was, sold rapidly in the district; for the

Shepherd had now a considerable circle of admirers, and those who had

ridiculed his verse-making, kept silent since Scott's visit to him. A

copy of the pamphlet is preserved in the Advocates' Library; it consists

of sixty-two pages octavo, and is entitled, "Scottish Pastorals, Poems,

Songs, &c., mostly written in the Dialect of the South, by James Hogg.

Edinburgh: printed by John Taylor, Grassmarket, 1801. Price One

Shilling." The various pieces evince poetic power, unhappily combined

with a certain coarseness of sentiment. One of the longer ballads,

"Willie and Keatie," supposed to be a narrative of one of his early

amours, obtained a temporary popularity, and was copied into the

periodicals. It is described by Allan Cunningham as a "plain, rough-spun

pastoral, with some fine touches in it, to mark that better was coming."

The domestic circumstances of the Shepherd were meanwhile not

prosperous; he was compelled to abandon the farm of Ettrick-house, which

had been especially valuable to him, as affording a comfortable home to

his venerated parents. In the hope of procuring a situation as an

overseer of some extensive sheep-farm, he made several excursions into

the northern Highlands, waiting upon many influential persons, to whom

he had letters of recommendation. These journeys were eminently

advantageous in acquainting him with many interesting and celebrated

scenes, and in storing his mind with images drawn from the sublimities

and wild scenery of nature, but were of no account as concerned the

object for which they were undertaken. Without procuring employment, he

returned, with very reduced finances, to Ettrick Forest. He published a

rough narrative of his travels in the _Scots Magazine_; and wrote two

essays on the rearing and management of sheep, for the Highland Society,

which were acknowledged with premiums. Frustrated in an attempt to

procure a farm from the Duke of Buccleuch, and declining an offer of

Scott to appoint him to the charge of his small sheep-farm at Ashestiel,

he was led to indulge in the scheme of settling in the island of Harris.

It was in the expectation of being speedily separated from the loved

haunts of his youth, that he composed his "Farewell to Ettrick,"

afterwards published in the "Mountain Bard," one of the most touching

and pathetic ballads in the language. The Harris enterprise was not

carried out; and the poet, "to avoid a great many disagreeable questions

and explanations," went for several months to England. Fortune still

frowned, and the ambitious but unsuccessful son of genius had to return

to his former subordinate occupation as a shepherd. He entered the

employment of Mr Harkness of Mitchel-Slack, in Nithsdale.

Dissatisfied with the imitations of ancient ballads in the third volume

of "The Border Minstrelsy," Hogg proceeded to embody some curious

traditions in this kind of composition. He transmitted specimens to

Scott, who warmly commended them, and suggested their publication. The

result appeared in the "Mountain Bard," a collection of poems and

ballads, which he published in 1803, prefixed with an account of his

life. From the profits of this volume, with the sum of eighty-six pounds

paid him by Constable for the copyright of his two treatises on sheep,

he became master of three hundred pounds. With this somewhat startling

acquisition, visions of prosperity arose in his ardent and enthusiastic

mind. He hastily took in lease the pastoral farm of Corfardin, in the

parish of Tynron, Dumfriesshire, to which he afterwards added the lease

of another large farm in the same neighbourhood. Misfortune still

pursued him; he rented one of the farms at a sum exceeding its value,

and his capital was much too limited for stocking the other, while a

disastrous murrain decimated his flock. Within the space of three years

he was again a penniless adventurer. Removing from the farm-homestead of

Corfardin, he accepted the generous invitation of his hospitable

neighbour, Mr James Macturk of Stenhouse, to reside in his house till

some suitable employment might occur. At Stenhouse he remained three

months; and he subsequently acknowledged the generosity of his friend,

by honourably celebrating him in the "Queen's Wake." Writing to Mr

Macturk, in 1814, he remarks, in reference to his farming at Corfardin,

"But it pleased God to take away by death all my ewes and my lambs, and

my long-horned cow, and my spotted bull, for if they had lived, and if I

had kept the farm of Corfardin, I had been a lost man to the world, and

mankind should never have known the half that was in me. Indeed, I can

never see the design of Providence in taking me to your district at all,

if it was not to breed my acquaintance with you and yours, which I hope

will be one source of happiness to me as long as I live. Perhaps the

very circumstance of being initiated into the mysteries of your

character,[29] is of itself a sufficient compensation for all that I

suffered in your country."

Disappointed in obtaining an ensigncy in a Militia Regiment, through the

interest of Sir Walter Scott, and frustrated in every other attempt to

retain the social position he had gained, he returned to Ettrick, once

more to seek employment in his original occupation. But if friendship

had somewhat failed him, on his proving unsuccessful at Ettrick-house,

his _prestige_ was now completely gone; old friends received him coldly,

and former employers declined his services. He found that, till he

should redeem his reputation for business and good management, there was

no home for him in Ettrick Forest. Hogg was not a man who would tamely

surrender to the pressure of misfortune: amidst his losses he could

claim the strictest honesty of intention, and he was not unconscious of

his powers. With his plaid over his shoulders, he reached Edinburgh in

the month of February 1810, to begin, in his fortieth year, the career

of a man of letters. The scheme was singularly adventurous, but the die

was cast; he was in the position of the man on the tread-wheel, and felt

that he must write or perish.

It affords no matter of surprise that the Shepherd was received coldly

by the booksellers, and that his offers of contributing to their

periodicals were respectfully declined. His volume, "The Mountain Bard,"

had been forgotten; and though his literary fitness had been undisputed,

his lengthened want of success in life seemed to imply a doubt of his

general steadiness. Mr Constable, his former publisher, proved the most

friendly; he consented to publish a collection of songs and ballads,

which he had prepared, two-thirds being his own composition, and the

remainder that of his ingenious friends. This publication, known as "The

Forest Minstrel," had a slow sale, and conferred no benefit on the

unfortunate author. What the booksellers would not do for him, Hogg

resolved to do for himself; he originated a periodical, which he

designated "The Spy," acting as his own publisher. The first number of

this publication--a quarto weekly sheet, price fourpence--was issued on

the first of September 1810. With varied popularity, this paper existed

during the space of a year; and owing to the perseverance of the

conductor might have subsisted a longer period, but for a certain

ruggedness which occasionally disfigured it. As a whole, being chiefly

the composition of a shepherd, who could only read at eighteen, and

write at twenty-six, and who, to use his own words, "knew no more of

human life or manners than a child," the work presented a remarkable

record in the annals of literature. As a business concern, it did not

much avail the projector, but it served indirectly towards improving his

condition, by inducing the habit of composing readily, and with

undeviating industry. A copy of "The Spy" is now rare.

From his literary exertions, Hogg was long, subsequent to his arrival in

the metropolis, in deriving substantial pecuniary emolument. In these

circumstances, he was fortunate in the friendship of Mr John Grieve, and

his partner Mr Henry Scott, hat manufacturers in the city, who, fully

appreciating his genius, aided him with money so long as he required

their assistance. These are his own words, "They suffered me to want for

nothing, either in money or clothes, and I did not even need to ask

these." To Mr Grieve, Hogg was especially indebted; six months he was an

inmate of his house, and afterwards he occupied comfortable lodgings,

secured him by his friend's beneficence. Besides these two invaluable

benefactors, the Shepherd soon acquired the regard and friendship of

several respectable men of letters, both in Edinburgh and elsewhere. As

contributors to "The Spy," he could record the names of James Gray of

the High School, and his accomplished wife; Thomas Gillespie, afterwards

Professor of Humanity in the University of St Andrews; J. Black,

subsequently of the _Morning Chronicle_; William Gillespie, the

ingenious minister of Kells; and John Sym, the renowned Timothy Tickler

of the "_Noctes_." Of these literary friends, Mr James Gray was the more

conspicuous and devoted. This excellent individual, the friend of so

many literary aspirants, was a native of Dunse, and had the merit of

raising himself from humble circumstances to the office of a master in

the High School of Edinburgh. Possessed of elegant and refined tastes,

an enthusiastic admirer of genius, and a poet himself,[30] Mr Gray

entertained at his table the more esteemed wits of the capital; he had

extended the hand of hospitality to Burns, and he received with equal

warmth the author of "The Forest Minstrel." In the exercise of

disinterested beneficence, he was aided and encouraged by his second

wife, formerly Miss Peacock, who sympathised in the lettered tastes of

her husband, and took delight in the society of men of letters. They

together made annual pedestrian excursions into the Highlands, and the

narrative of their adventures proved a source of delightful instruction

to their friends. Mr Gray, after a lengthened period of residence in

Edinburgh, accepted, in the year 1821, the Professorship of Latin in the

Institution at Belfast; he subsequently took orders in the Church of

England, and proceeded to India as a chaplain. In addition to his

chaplaincy, he held the office of preceptor to one of the native princes

of Hindostan. He died at Bhoog, in the kingdom of Cutch, on the 25th of

September 1830; and if we add that he was a man of remarkable learning,

his elegy may be transcribed from the "Queen's Wake:"--

"Alike to him the south and north,

So high he held the minstrel worth;

So high his ardent mind was wrought,

Once of himself he never thought."

As the circle of the poet's friends increased, a scheme was originated

among them, which was especially entertained by the juniors, of

establishing a debating society for mutual improvement. This institution

became known as the Forum; meetings were held weekly in a public hall of

the city, and strangers were admitted to the discussions on the payment

of sixpence a-head. The meetings were uniformly crowded; and the

Shepherd, who held the office of secretary, made a point of taking a

prominent lead in the discussions. He spoke once, and sometimes more

frequently, at every meeting, making speeches, both studied and

extemporaneous, on every variety of theme; and especially contributed,

by his rough-spun eloquence, to the popularity of the institution. The

society existed three years; and though yielding the secretary no

pecuniary emolument, proved a new and effective mean of extending his

acquaintance with general knowledge.

Hogg now took an interest in theatricals, and produced two dramas, one

of which, a sort of musical farce, was intended as a burlesque on the

prominent members of the Forum, himself included. This he was induced,

on account of the marked personalities, to confine to his repositories;

he submitted the other to Mr Siddons, who commended it, but it never was

brought upon the stage. He was about to appear before the world in his

most happy literary effort, "The Queen's Wake,"--a composition

suggested by Mr Grieve. This ingenious individual had conceived the

opinion that a republication of several of the Shepherd's ballads in

"The Spy," in connexion with an original narrative poem, would arrest

public attention as to the author's merits; while a narrative having

reference to the landing of the beautiful and unfortunate Queen Mary,

seemed admirably calculated to induce a general interest in the poem.

The proposal, submitted to Allan Cunningham and Mr Gray, received their

warm approbation; and in a few months the entire composition was ready

for the press. Mr Constable at once consented to undertake the

publication; but a more advantageous offer being made by Mr George

Goldie, a young bookseller, "The Queen's Wake" issued from his

establishment in the spring of 1813. Its success was complete; two

editions were speedily circulated, and the fame of the author was

established. With the exception of the _Eclectic Review_, every

periodical accorded its warmest approbation to the performance; and

vacillating friends, who began to doubt the Shepherd's power of

sustaining the character he had assumed as a poet and a man of letters,

ceased to entertain their misgivings, and accorded the warmest tributes

to his genius. A commendatory article in the _Edinburgh Review_, in

November 1814, hailed the advent of a third edition.

By the unexpected insolvency of his publisher, while the third edition

was in process of sale, Hogg had nearly sustained a recurrence of

pecuniary loss. This was, however, fortunately prevented by the

considerate beneficence of Mr Goldie's trustees, who, on receiving

payment of the printing expenses, made over the remainder of the

impression to the author. One of the trustees was Mr Blackwood,

afterwards the celebrated publisher of _Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine_.

Hogg had now attained the unenviable reputation of a literary prodigy,

and his studies were subject to constant interruption from admirers, and

the curious who visited the capital. But he gave all a cordial

reception, and was never less accessible amidst the most arduous

literary occupation. There was one individual whose acquaintance he was

especially desirous of forming; this was John Wilson, whose poem, "The

Isle of Palms," published in 1812, had particularly arrested his

admiration. Wilson had come to reside in Edinburgh during a portion of

the year, but as yet had few acquaintances in the city. He was slightly

known to Scott; but a peculiarity of his was a hesitation in granting

letters of introduction. In despair of otherwise meeting him, Hogg, who

had reviewed his poem in the _Scots Magazine_, sent him an invitation to

dinner, which the Lake-poet was pleased cordially to accept. That dinner

began one of the most interesting of the Shepherd's friendships; both

the poets were pleased with each other, and the closest intimacy ensued.

It was on his way to visit Wilson, at Elleray, his seat in Cumberland,

during the autumn of 1814, that the Shepherd formed the acquaintance of

the Poet-laureate. He had notified to Southey his arrival at one of the

hotels in Keswick, and begged the privilege of a visit. Southey promptly

acknowledged his summons, and insisted on his remaining a couple of days

at Greta Hall to share his hospitality. Two years could not have more

firmly rivetted their friendship. As a mark of his regard, on returning

to Edinburgh Hogg sent the Laureate the third edition of "The Queen's

Wake," then newly published, along with a copy of "The Spy." In

acknowledging the receipt of these volumes, Southey addressed the

following letter to the Shepherd, which is now for the first time

published:--

"Keswick, _December 1, 1814._

"Dear Hogg,--Thank you for your books. I will not say

that 'The Queen's Wake' has exceeded my expectations,

because I have ever expected great things from you,

since, in 1805, I heard Walter Scott, by his own

fireside at Ashestiel, repeat 'Gilmanscleuch.'[31] When

he came to that line--'I ga'e him a' my goud,

father'--the look and the tone with which he gave it

were not needed to make it go through me. But 'The

Wake' has equalled all that I expected. The

improvements in the new edition are very great, and

they are in the two poems which were most deserving of

improvement, as being the most impressive and the most

original. Each is excellent in its way, but 'Kilmeny'

is of the highest character; 'The Witch of Fife' is a

real work of fancy--'Kilmeny' a fine one of

imagination, which is a higher and rarer gift. These

poems have given general pleasure throughout the house;

my eldest girl often comes out with a stanza or two of

'The Witch,' but she wishes sometimes that you always

wrote in English. 'The Spy' I shall go through more at

leisure.

"I like your praise both of myself and my poem, because

it comes from a good quarter. You saw me where and how

a man is best seen--at home, and in his every-day wear

and tear, mind and manners: I have no holiday suit, and

never seek to shine: such as it is, my light is always

burning. Somewhat of my character you may find in

Chaucer's Clerk of Oxenford; and the concluding line of

that description might be written, as the fittest

motto, under my portrait--'Gladly would he learn, and

gladly teach.' I have sinned enough to make me humble

in myself, and indulgent toward others. I have suffered

enough to find in religion not merely consolation, but

hope and joy; and I have seen enough to be contented

in, and thankful for, the state of life in which it has

pleased God to place me.

"We hoped to have seen you on your way back from

Ellery. I believe you did not get the ballad of the

'Devil and the Bishop,' which Hartley transcribed for

you. I am reprinting my miscellaneous poems, collected

into three volumes. Your projected publication[32] will

have the start of it greatly, for the first volume is

not nearly through the press, and there is a corrected

copy of the ballad, with its introduction, in

Ballantyne's hands, which you can make use of before it

will be wanted in its place.

"You ask me why I am not intimate with Wilson. There is

a sufficient reason in the distance between our

respective abodes. I seldom go even to Wordworth's or

Lloyd's; and Ellery is far enough from either of their

houses, to make a visit the main business of a day. So

it happens that except dining in his company once at

Lloyd's many years ago, and breakfasting with him here

not long afterwards, I have barely exchanged

salutations once or twice when we met upon the road.

Perhaps, however, I might have sought him had it not

been for his passion for cock-fighting. But this is a

thing which I regard with abhorrence.

"Would that 'Roderick' were in your hands for

reviewing; I should desire no fairer nor more competent

critic. But it is of little consequence what friends or

enemies may do for it now; it will find its due place

in time, which is slow but sure in its decisions. From

the nature of my studies, I may almost be said to live

in the past; it is to the future that I look for my

reward, and it would be difficult to make any person

who is not thoroughly intimate with me, understand how

completely indifferent I am to the praise or censure of

the present generation, farther than as it may affect

my means of subsistence, which, thank God, it can no

longer essentially do. There was a time when I was

materially injured by unjust criticism; but even then I

despised it, from a confidence in myself, and a natural

buoyancy of spirit. It cannot injure me now, but I

cannot hold it in more thorough contempt.

"Come and visit me when the warm weather returns. You

can go nowhere that you will be more sincerely

welcomed. And may God bless you.

"Robert Southey."

In waging war with the Lake school of poetry, the _Edinburgh Review_ had

dealt harshly with Southey. His poems of "Madoc" and "The Curse of

Kehama" had been rigorously censured, and very shortly before the

appearance of "Roderick," his "Triumphal Ode" for 1814, which was

published separately, had been assailed with a continuance of the same

unmitigated severity. The Shepherd, who knew, notwithstanding the

Laureate's professions of indifference to criticism, that his nature was

sensitive, and who feared that the _Review_ would treat "Roderick" as it

had done Southey's previous productions, ventured to recommend him to

evince a less avowed hostility to Jeffrey, in the hope of subduing the

bitterness of his censure. The letter of Southey, in answer to this

counsel, will prove interesting, in connexion with the literary history

of the period. The Bard of Keswick had hardly advanced to that happy

condition which he fancied he had reached, of being "indulgent toward

others," at least under the influence of strong provocation:--

"Keswick, _24th Dec. 1814._

"Dear Hogg,--I am truly obliged to you for the

solicitude which you express concerning the treatment

'Roderick' may experience in the _Edinburgh Review_,

and truly gratified by it, notwithstanding my perfect

indifference as to the object in question. But you

little know me, if you imagine that any thoughts of

fear or favour would make me abstain from speaking

publicly of Jeffrey as I think, and as he deserves. I

despise his commendation, and I defy his malice. _He_

crush the 'Excursion!!!'[33] Tell him that he might as

easily crush Skiddaw. For myself, _popularity_ is not

the mark I shoot at; if it were, I should not write

such poems as 'Roderick;' and Jeffrey can no more stand

in my way to _fame_, than Tom Thumb could stand in my

way in the street.

"He knows that he has dealt unfairly and maliciously by

me; he knows that the world knows it, that his very

friends know it, and that if he attacks 'Roderick' as

he did 'Madoc' and 'Kehama,' it will be universally

imputed to personal ill-will. On the other hand, he

cannot commend this poem without the most flagrant

inconsistency. This would be confessing that he has

wronged me in the former instances; for no man will

pretend to say that 'Madoc' does not bear marks of the

same hand as 'Roderick;' it has the same character of

language, thought, and feeling; it is of the same ore

and mint; and if the one poem be bad, the other cannot

possibly be otherwise. The irritation of the _nettling_

(as you term it), which he has already received [a

portion of the letter is torn off and lost]....

Whatever part he may take, my conduct towards him will

be the same. I consider him a public nuisance, and

shall deal with him accordingly.

"Nettling is a gentle term for what he has to undergo.

In due season he shall be _scorpioned_ and

_rattlesnaked_. When I take him in hand it shall be to

dissect him alive, and make a preparation of him to be

exhibited _in terrorem_, an example to all future

pretenders to criticism. He has a forehead of native

brass, and I will write upon it with aqua-fortis. I

will serve him up to the public like a turkey's

gizzard, sliced, scored, peppered, salted, cayanned,

grilled, and bedevilled. I will bring him to justice;

he shall be executed in prose, and gibbeted in

verse....[34]

.... "'Roderick' has made good speed in the world, and

ere long I shall send you the poem in a more commodious

shape,[35] for Ballantyne is at this time reprinting

it. I finished my official ode a few days ago. It is

without rhyme, and as unlike other official odes in

matter as in form; for its object is to recommend, as

the two great objects of policy, general education and

extensive colonization. At present, I am chiefly

occupied upon 'The History of Brazil,' which is in the

press--a work of great labour.

"The ladies here all desire to be kindly remembered to

you. I have ordered 'The Pilgrims of the Sun,' and we

look for it with expectation, which, I am sure, will

not be disappointed. God bless you.--Yours very truly,

"Robert Southey."

A review of "Roderick" appeared in the _Edinburgh Review_ for June 1815,

which on the whole was favourable, so that the wrath of the Laureate was

appeased.

During the earlier period of his Edinburgh career, Hogg had formed the

acquaintance of an estimable family in Athol, Mr and Mrs Izett, of

Kinnaird House, and he had been in the habit of spending a portion of

his time every summer at their hospitable residence. In the summer of

1814, while visiting there, he was seized with a severe cold, which

compelled him to prolong his stay with his friends; and Mrs Izett, who

took a warm interest in his welfare, suggested that he might turn his

illness to account, by composing a poem, descriptive of the beauties of

the surrounding scenery. The hint was sufficient; he commenced a

descriptive poem in the Spenserian stanza, which was speedily completed,

and given to the world under the title of "Mador of the Moor." It was

well received; and the author is correct in asserting that it contains

"some of his highest and most fortunate efforts in rhyme." "The

Pilgrims of the Sun" was his next poem; it was originally intended as

one of a series, to be contained in a poetical work, which he proposed

to entitle "Midsummer Night Dreams," but which, on the advice of his

friend, Mr James Park of Greenock, he was induced to abandon. From its

peculiar strain, this poem had some difficulty in finding a publisher;

it was ultimately published by Mr John Murray of London, who liberally

recompensed the author, and it was well received by the press.

The circle of the Shepherd's literary friends rapidly extended. Lord

Byron opened a correspondence with him, and continued to address him in

long familiar letters, such as were likely to interest a shepherd-bard.

Unfortunately, these letters have been lost; it was a peculiarity of

Hogg to be careless in regard to his correspondence. With Wordsworth he

became acquainted in the summer of 1815, when that poet was on his first

visit to Edinburgh. They met at the house, in Queen Street, of the

mother of his friend Wilson; and the Shepherd was at once interested and

gratified by the intelligent conversation and agreeable manners of the

great Lake-poet. They saw much of each other in the city, and afterwards

journeyed together to St Mary's Loch; and the Shepherd had the

satisfaction of entertaining his distinguished brother-bard with the

homely fare of cakes and milk, in his father's cottage at Ettrick.

Wordsworth afterwards made the journey memorable in his poem of "Yarrow

Visited." The poets temporarily separated at Selkirk,--Wordsworth having

secured the promise of a visit from his friend, at Mount Ryedale, prior

to his return to Edinburgh. The promise was duly fulfilled; and the

Shepherd had the pleasure of meeting, during his visit, Lloyd, and De

Quincey, and his dear friend Wilson. A portion of the autumn of 1815 was

spent by the Shepherd at Elleray. In the letter inviting his visit

(dated September 1815), the author of "The Isle of Palms" indicates his

opinion of the literary influence of his correspondent, by writing as

follows:--"If you have occasion soon to write to Murray,[36] pray

introduce something about 'The City of the Plague,' as I shall probably

offer him that poem in about a fortnight, or sooner. Of course, I do not

_wish_ you to say that the poem is utterly worthless. I think that a

bold eulogy from you (if administered immediately), would be of service

to me; but if you do write about it, do not tell him that I have any

intention of offering it to him, but you may say, you hear I am going to

offer it to a London bookseller."

The Shepherd's intimacy with the poets had induced him to entertain a

somewhat plausible scheme of bettering his finances. He proposed to

publish, in a handsome volume, a poem by each of the living bards of

Great Britain. For this purpose, he had secured pieces from Southey,

Wilson, Wordsworth, Lloyd, Morehead, Pringle, Paterson, and some others;

and had received promises of contributions from Lord Byron and Samuel

Rogers. The plan was frustrated by Scott. He was opposed to his

appearing to seek fresh laurels from the labours of others, and

positively refused to make a contribution. This sadly mortified the

Shepherd,[37] and entirely altered his plans. He had now recourse to a

peculiar method of realising his original intention. In the short period

of four weeks, he produced imitations of the more conspicuous bards,

which speedily appeared in a volume entitled "The Poetic Mirror." This

work, singularly illustrative of the versatility of his genius, was

eminently successful, the first edition disappearing in the course of

six weeks. The imitations of the bards were pronounced perfect, only

that of Wordsworth was intentionally a caricature; the Shepherd had been

provoked to it by a conceived slight of the Lake-poet, during his visit

at Mount Ryedale.[38]

"The Poetic Mirror" appeared in 1816; and in the following year the

Shepherd struck out a new path, by publishing two duodecimo volumes of

"Dramatic Tales." This work proved unsuccessful. In 1813 he had

dedicated his "Forest Minstrel" to the Countess of Dalkeith; and this

amiable and excellent woman, afterwards better known as Harriet, Duchess

of Buccleuch, had acknowledged the compliment by a gift of a hundred

guineas, and several other donations. The Shepherd was, however,

desirous of procuring the means of comfortable self-support,

independently of his literary exertions; and had modestly preferred the

request that he might receive a small farm in lease on the Buccleuch

estates. The request was at length responded to. The Duchess, who took a

deep interest in him, made a request to the Duke, on her death-bed, that

something might be done for her ingenious protege. After her decease,

the late Charles, Duke of Buccleuch, gave the Shepherd a life-lease of

the farm of Altrive Lake, in Yarrow, at a nominal rent, no portion of

which was ever exacted. The Duke subsequently honoured him with his

personal friendship, and made him frequently share of his hospitality.

From the time of his abandoning "The Spy," Hogg had contemplated the

publication of a periodical on an extended scale. At length, finding a

coadjutor in Mr Thomas Pringle, he explained their united proposal to

his friend, Mr Blackwood, the publisher, who highly approved of the

design. Preliminaries were arranged, and the afterwards celebrated

_Blackwood's Magazine_ took its origin. Hogg was now resident at

Altrive, and the editorship was entrusted to Pringle and his literary

friend Cleghorn. The vessel had scarcely been well launched, however, on

the ocean of letters, when storms arose a-head; hot disputes occurred

between the publisher and the editors, which ultimately terminated in

the withdrawal of the latter from the concern, and their connexion with

the _Edinburgh Magazine_, an opposition periodical established by Mr

Constable. The combating parties had referred to the Shepherd, who was

led to accord his support to Mr Blackwood. He conceived the idea of the

"Chaldee Manuscript," as a means of ridiculing the oppositionists. Of

this famous satire, the first thirty-seven verses of chapter first, with

several other sentences throughout, were his own composition, the

remaining portion being the joint fabrication of his friends Wilson and

Lockhart.[39] This singular production produced a sensation in the

capital unequalled in the history of any other literary performance; and

though, from the evident personalities and the keenness of the satire,

it had to be cancelled, so that a copy in the pages of the magazine is

now a rarity, it sufficiently attained the purpose of directing public

attention to the newly-established periodical. The "Chaldee Manuscript"

appeared in the seventh number of _Blackwood's Magazine_, published in

October 1817. To the magazine Hogg continued to be a regular

contributor; and, among other interesting compositions, both in prose

and verse, he produced in its pages his narrative of the "Shepherd's

Calendar." His connexion with this popular periodical is more generally

known from the position assigned him in the "_Noctes Ambrosianae_" of

Professor Wilson. In those interesting dialogues, the _Shepherd_ is

represented as a character of marvellous shrewdness and sagacity, whose

observations on men and manners, life and literature, uttered, as they

are, in the homeliest phrases, contain a depth of philosophy and vigour

of criticism rarely exhibited in the history of real or fictitious

biography. "In wisdom," writes Professor Ferrier, "the Shepherd equals

the Socrates of Plato; in humour, he surpasses the Falstaff of

Shakspeare; clear and prompt, he might have stood up against Dr Johnson

in close and peremptory argument; fertile and copious, he might have

rivalled Burke in amplitude of declamation; while his opulent

imagination and powers of comical description invest all that he utters,

either with a picturesque mildness or a graphic quaintness peculiarly

his own." These remarks, applicable to the Shepherd of the "_Noctes_,"

would, indeed, be much overstrained if applied to their prototype; yet

it is equally certain that the leading features of the ideal Shepherd

were depicted from those of the living Shepherd of Ettrick, by one who

knew well how to estimate and appreciate human nature.

On taking possession of his farm of Altrive Lake, which extended to

about seventy acres, Hogg built a small cottage on the place, in which

he received his aged father, his mother having been previously called to

her rest. In the stocking of the farm, he received very considerable

assistance from the profits of a guinea edition of "The Queen's Wake,"

of which the subscribers' list was zealously promoted by Sir Walter

Scott. At Altrive he continued literary composition with unabated

ardour. In 1817, he published "The Brownie of Bodsbeck," a tale of the

period of the Covenant, which attained a considerable measure of

popularity. In 1819, he gave to the world the first volume of his

"Jacobite Relics," the second volume not appearing till 1821. This work,

which bears evidence of extensive labour and research, was favourably

received; the notes are lengthy and copious, and many of the pieces,

which are set to music, have long been popular. His "Winter Evening

Tales" appeared in 1820: several of them were composed on the hills in

early life.

The worldly circumstances of the Shepherd now were such as rendered him

abundantly justifiable in entering into the married state. On the 28th

April 1820, he espoused Miss Margaret Phillips, the youngest daughter of

Mr Phillips, late of Longbridgemoor, in Annandale. By this union he

became brother-in-law of his friend Mr James Gray, whose first wife was

a sister of Mrs Hogg. At the period of his marriage, from the profits of

his writings and his wife's dowry, he was master of nearly a thousand

pounds and a well-stocked farm; and increasing annual gains by his

writings, seemed to augur future independence. But the Shepherd, not

perceiving that literature was his forte, resolved to embark further in

farming speculations; he took in lease the extensive farm of Mount

Benger, adjoining Altrive Lake, expending his entire capital in the

stocking. The adventure proved almost ruinous.

The coronation of George IV. was fixed to take place on the 19th of

July 1821; and Sir Walter Scott having resolved to be among the

spectators, invited the Shepherd to accompany him to London on the

occasion. Through Lord Sidmouth, the Secretary of State, he had procured

accommodation for Hogg at the pageant, which his lordship had granted,

with the additional favour of inviting both of them to dinner, to meet

the Duke of York on the following day. The Shepherd had, however, begun

to feel more enthusiastic as a farmer than a poet, and preferred to

attend the sheep-market at St Boswells. For this seeming lack of

loyalty, he afterwards made ample compensation; he celebrated the King's

visit to Scotland, in August 1822, in "a Masque or Drama," which was

published in a separate form. A copy of this production being laid

before the King by Sir Walter Scott, Sir Robert Peel, then Secretary of

State, received his Majesty's gracious command suitably to acknowledge

it. In his official communication, Sir Robert thanked the Shepherd, in

the King's name, "for the gratifying proof of his genius and loyalty."

It had been Scott's desire to obtain a Civil List pension for the

Shepherd, to aid him in his struggles at Mount Benger; and it was with

something like hope that he informed him that Sir Robert Peel had

expressed himself pleased with his writings. But the pension was never

obtained.

Harassed by pecuniary difficulties, Hogg wrote rapidly, with the view of

relieving himself. In 1822, he published a new edition of his best

poems, in four volumes, for which he received the sum of L200; and in

this and the following year, he produced two works of fiction, entitled,

"The Three Perils of Man," and "The Three Perils of Women," which

together yielded him L300. In 1824, he published "The Confessions of a

Fanatic;" and, in 1826, he gave to the world his long narrative poem of

"Queen Hynde." The last proved unequal to his former poetical efforts.

In 1826, Mr J. G. Lockhart proceeded to London to edit the _Quarterly

Review_, taking along with him, as his assistant, Robert Hogg, a son of

the Shepherd's elder brother. The occasion afforded the poet an

opportunity of renewing his correspondence with his old friend, Allan

Cunningham. Allan wrote to him as follows:--

"27 Lower Belgrave Place, _16th Feb. 1826._

"My dear James,--It required neither present of book,

nor friend, nor the recalling of old scenes, to render

your letter a most welcome one. You are often present

to my heart and fancy, for your genius and your

friendliness have secured you a place in both. Your

nephew is a fine, modest, and intelligent young man,

and is welcome to my house for his own sake as well as

yours. Your 'Queen Hynde,' for which I thank you,

carries all the vivid marks of your own peculiar cast

of genius about her. One of your very happiest little

things is in the Souvenir of this season--it is pure

and graceful, warm, yet delicate; and we have nought in

the language to compare to it, save everybody's

'Kilmeny.' In other portions of verse you have been

equalled, and sometimes surpassed; but in scenes which

are neither on earth, nor wholly removed from it--where

fairies speak, and spiritual creatures act, you are

unrivalled.

"Often do I tread back to the foot of old

Queensberry,[40] and meet you coming down amid the

sunny rain, as I did some twenty years ago. The little

sodded shealing where we sought shelter rises now on my

sight--your two dogs (old Hector was one) lie at my

feet--the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel' is in my hand, for

the first time, to be twice read over after sermon, as

it really was--poetry, nothing but poetry, is our talk,

and we are supremely happy. Or, I shift the scene to

Thornhill, and there whilst the glass goes round, and

lads sing and lasses laugh, we turn our discourse on

verse, and still our speech is song. Poetry had then a

charm for us, which has since been sobered down. I can

now meditate without the fever of enthusiasm upon me;

yet age to youth owes all or most of its happiest

aspirations, and contents itself with purifying and

completing the conceptions of early years.

"We are both a little older and a little graver than we

were some twenty years ago, when we walked in glory and

joy on the side of old Queensberry. My wife is much the

same in look as when you saw her in Edinburgh--at least

so she seems to me, though five boys and a girl might

admonish me of change--of loss of bloom, and abatement

of activity. My oldest boy resolves to be a soldier; he

is a clever scholar, and his head has been turned by

Caesar. My second and third boys are in Christ's School,

and are distinguished in their classes; they climb to

the head, and keep their places. The other three are at

their mother's knee at home, and have a strong capacity

for mirth and mischief.

"I have not destroyed my Scottish poem. I mean to

remodel it, and infuse into it something more of the

spark of living life. But my pen has of late strayed

into the regions of prose. Poetry is too much its own

reward; and one cannot always write for a barren smile,

and a thriftless clap on the back. We must live; and

the white bread and the brown can only be obtained by

gross payment. There is no poet and a wife and six

children fed now like the prophet Elijah--they are more

likely to be devoured by critics, than fed by ravens. I

cannot hope that Heaven will feed me and mine while I

sing. So farewell to song for a season.

"My brother's[41] want of success has surprised me too.

He had a fair share of talent; and, had he cultivated

his powers with care, and given himself fair play, his

fate would have been different. But he sees nature

rather through a curious medium than with the tasteful

eye of poetry, and must please himself with the praise

of those who love singular and curious things. I have

said nothing all this while of Mrs Hogg, though I might

have said much, for we hear her household prudence and

her good taste often commended. She comes, too, from my

own dear country--a good assurance of a capital wife

and an affectionate mother. My wife and I send her and

you most friendly greetings. We hope to see you both in

London during the summer.

"You have written much, but you must write more yet.

What say you to a series of poems in your own original

way, steeped from end to end in Scottish superstition,

but purified from its grossness by your own genius and

taste? Do write me soon. I have a good mind to come and

commence shepherd beside you, and aid you in making a

yearly pastoral _Gazette_ in prose and verse for our

_ain_ native Lowlands. The thing would take.

"The evil news of Sir Walter's losses came on me like

an invasion. I wish the world would do for him now what

it will do in fifty years, when it puts up his statue

in every town--let it lay out its money in purchasing

an estate, as the nation did to the Duke of Wellington,

and money could never be laid out more worthily.--I

remain, dear James, your very faithful friend,

"Allan Cunningham."

One of the parties chiefly aggrieved in the matter of the Chaldee MS.

was Thomas Pringle, one of the original editors of _Blackwood_. This

ingenious person had lately returned from a period of residence in

Southern Africa, and established himself in London as secretary to the

Slave Abolition Society, and a man of letters. Forgetting past

differences, he invited the Shepherd, in the following letter, to aid

him in certain literary enterprises:--

"London, _May 19, 1827._

"My dear Sir,--I wrote you a hasty note some time ago,

to solicit your literary aid for the projected work of

Mr Fraser. I now address you on behalf of two other

friends of mine, who are about to start a new weekly

publication, something in the shape of the _Literary

Gazette_, to be entitled _The London Review_. The

editors are Mr D. L. Richardson, the author of a volume

of poems chiefly written in India, and a Mr St John, a

young gentleman of very superior talents, whose name

has not yet been (so far as I know) before the public,

though he has been a contributor to several of the

first-rate periodicals. I have no other interest in the

work myself than that of a friend and contributor. The

editors, knowing that I have the pleasure of your

acquaintance, have requested me to solicit your aid to

their work, either in verse or prose, and they will

consider themselves pledged to pay for any

contributions with which you may honour them at the

same rate as _Blackwood_. May I hope, my dear sir, that

you will, at all events, stretch a point to send them

something for their first number, which is to appear in

the beginning of June....

"I always read your '_Noctes_,' and have had many a

hearty laugh with them in the interior of Southern

Africa; for though I detest _Blackwood's_ politics, and

regret to see often such fine talents so sadly

misapplied (as I see the matter), yet I have never

permitted my own political predilections, far less any

reminiscences of old magazine squabbles, to blind me to

the exuberant flow of genius which pervades and

beautifies so many delightful articles in that

magazine.... Believe me always, dear Hogg, yours very

truly,

"Tho. Pringle."

A similar request for contributions was made the year following by

William Howitt. His letter is interesting, as exhibiting the epistolary

style of a popular writer. Howitt, it will be perceived, is a member of

the Society of Friends.

"Nottingham, _12th mo., 20th, 1828._

"Respected Friend,--Herewith I forward, for thy

acceptance, two small volumes, as a trifling testimony

of the high estimation in which we have long held thy

writings. So great was our desire to see thee when my

wife and I were, a few springs ago, making a ramble on

foot through some parts of your beautiful country, that

nothing but the most contrary winds of circumstance

prevented us.

"I am now preparing for the press 'The Book of the

Seasons,' a volume of prose and poetry, intended to

furnish the lover of nature with a remembrancer, to put

him in mind, on the opening of each month, of what he

may look for in his garden, or his country walks; a

notice of all remarkable in the round of the seasons,

and the beautiful in scenery,--of all that is pleasant

in rural sights, sounds, customs, and occupations. I

hope to make it, if I am favoured with health, in a

little time, both a pleasant and original volume, and

one which may do its mite towards strengthening and

diffusing that healthful love of nature which is so

desirable in a great commercial country like this,

where our manufacturing population are daily spreading

over its face, and cut off themselves from the

animating and heart-preserving influence of

nature,--are also swallowing up our forests and heaths,

those free, and solitary, and picturesque places, which

have fostered the soul of poetry in so many of our

noble spirits. I quite envy thy residence in so bold

and beautiful a region, where the eye and the foot may

wander, without being continually offended and

obstructed by monotonous hedge-rows, and abominable

factories. If thou couldst give, from the ample stores

of thy observant mind, a slight sketch or two of

anything characteristic of the seasons, in

_mountainous_ scenery especially, I shall regard them

as apples of gold. I am very anxious to learn whether

any particular customs or festivities are kept up in

the sheep-districts of Scotland at sheep-shearing time,

as were wont of old all over England; and where is

there a man who could solve such a problem like

thyself? I am sensible of the great boldness of my

request; but as my object is to promote the love of

nature, I am willing to believe that I am not more

influenced by such a feeling than thou art. I intend to

have the book got out in a handsome manner, and to have

it illustrated with woodcuts, by the best artists;

being more desirous to give to others that ardent

attachment to the beauties of the country that has

clung to me from a boy, and for the promotion of which

all our real poets are so distinguished, than to

realise much profit. Anything that thou couldst send me

about your country life, or the impression which the

scenery makes upon a poetical mind at different

seasons, on your heaths and among your hills, I should

be proud to acknowledge, and should regard as the gems

of my book. Whether or not, however, it be practicable

or agreeable to thee, I hope to have the pleasure of

presenting thee a copy of the work when it is out. Mary

requests me to present to thee her respectful regards;

and allow me to subscribe myself, with great respect,

thy friend,

"W. Howitt."

In 1829, on the expiry of his lease, Hogg relinquished the farm of Mount

Benger, and returned to his former residence at Altrive. Rumour, ever

ready to propagate tales of misfortune, had busily circulated the

report that, a completely ruined man, he had again betaken himself to

literary labours in the capital. In this belief, Mr Tennant, author of

"Anster Fair," addressed to him the following characteristic letter,

intended, by its good-humoured pleasantries, to soothe him in his

contendings with adversity:--

"Devongrove, _27th June 1829._

"My dear Friend James Hogg,--I have never seen, spoken,

whispered to, handled, or smelt you, since the King's

visit in 1822, when I met you in Edinburgh street, and

inhaled, by juxtaposition, your sweet fraternal breath.

How the Fates have since sundered us! How have you been

going on, fattening and beautifying from one degree to

another of poetical perfection, while I have, under the

chilling shade of the Ochil Hills, been dwindling down

from one degree of poetical extenuation to another,

till at length I am become the very shadow and ghost of

literary leanness! I should now wish to see you, and

compare you as you are now with what you were in your

'Queen's Wake' days. For this purpose, I would be very

fain you would condescend to pay us a visit. I see you

indeed, at times, in the _Literary Journal_; I see you

in _Blackwood_, fighting, and reaping a harvest of

beautiful black eyes from the fists of Professor John

Wilson. I see you in songs, in ballads, in calendars. I

see you in the postern of time long elapsed. I see you

in the looking-glass of my own facetious and

song-recalling memory--but I should wish to see you in

the real, visible, palpable, smellable beauty of your

own person, standing before me in my own house, at my

own fireside, in all the halo of your poetical

radiance! Come over, then, if possible, my dear

Shepherd, and stay a night or two with us. You may

tarry with your friend, Mr Bald, one afternoon or so by

the way, and explore the half-forgotten treasures of

the Shakspeare cellars[42]--but you may rest yourself

under the shadow of the Ochil Hills a longer space,

and enjoy the beauties of our scenery, and, such as it

is, the fulness of our hospitality, which, believe me,

will be spouted out upon you freely and rejoicingly.

"To be serious in speech, I really wish you would take

a trip up this way some time during the summer. I

understand you are settled in Edinburgh, and in that

thought have now addressed you. If I am wrong, write

me. Indeed, write me at any rate, as I would wish again

to see your fist at least, though the Fates should

forbid my seeing your person here. But I think you

would find some pleasure in visiting again your Alloa

friends, to say nothing of the happiness we should have

in seeing you at Devongrove.... Be sure to write me

now, James, in answer to this; and believe me to be,

ever most sincerely yours,

"Wm. Tennant."

The Shepherd's next literary undertaking was an edition of Burns,

published at Glasgow. In this task he had an able coadjutor in the poet

Motherwell. In 1831, he published a collected edition of his songs,

which received a wide circulation. On account of some unfortunate

difference with Blackwood, he proceeded in December of that year to

London, with the view of effecting an arrangement for the republication

of his whole works. His reception in the metropolis was worthy of his

fame; he was courted with avidity by all the literary circles, and feted

at the tables of the nobility. A great festival, attended by nearly two

hundred persons, including noblemen, members of Parliament, and men of

letters, was given him in Freemasons' Hall, on the anniversary of the

birthday of Burns. The duties of chairman were discharged by Sir John

Malcolm, who had the Shepherd on his right hand, and two sons of Burns

on his left. After dinner, the Shepherd brewed punch in the punch-bowl

of Burns, which was brought to the banquet by its present owner, Mr

Archibald Hastie, M.P. for Paisley. He obtained a publisher for his

works in the person of Mr James Cochrane, an enterprising bookseller in

Pall Mall, who issued the first volume of the series on the 31st of

March 1832, under the designation of the "Altrive Tales." By the

unexpected failure of the publisher, the series did not proceed, so that

the unfortunate Shepherd derived no substantial advantage from a three

months' residence in London.

Recent reverses had somewhat depressed his literary ardour; and, though

his immediate embarrassments were handsomely relieved by private

subscriptions and a donation from the Literary Fund, he felt indisposed

vigorously to renew his literary labours. He did not reappear as an

author till 1834, when he published a volume of essays on religion and

morals, under the title of "Lay Sermons on Good Principles and Good

Breeding." This work was issued from the establishment of Mr James

Fraser, of Regent Street. In the May number of _Blackwood's Magazine_

for 1834, he again appeared before the public in the celebrated

"_Noctes_," which had been discontinued for upwards of two years, owing

to his misunderstanding with Mr Blackwood. On this subject we are

privileged to publish the following letter, addressed to him by

Professor Wilson:--

"_30th April._

"My dear Mr Hogg,--After frequent reflection on the

estrangement that has so long subsisted between those

who used to be such good friends, I have felt convinced

that _I_ ought to put an end to it on my own

responsibility. Without, therefore, asking either you

or Mr Blackwood, I have written a '_Noctes_,' in which

my dear Shepherd again appears. I hope you will think I

have done right. I intend to write six within the year;

and it is just, and no more than just, that you should

receive five guineas a sheet. Enclosed is that sum for

No. I. of the new series.

"If you will, instead of writing long tales, for which

at present there is no room, write a 'Series of Letters

to Christopher North,' or, 'Flowers and Weeds from the

Forest,' or, 'My Life at Altrive,' embodying your

opinions and sentiments on all things, _angling_,

shooting, curling, &c., &c., in an easy characteristic

style, it will be easy for you to add L50 per annum to

the L50 which you will receive for your '_Noctes_.' I

hope you will do so.

"I have taken upon myself a responsibility which

nothing but the sincerest friendship could have induced

me to do. You may be angry; you may misjudge my

motives; yet hardly can I think it. Let the painful in

the past be forgotten, and no allusion ever made to it;

and for the future, I shall do all I can to prevent

anything happening that can be disagreeable to your

feelings.--With kind regards to Mrs Hogg and family, I

am ever most sincerely and affectionately yours,

"John Wilson."

During the summer after his return from London, Hogg received what he

accounted his greatest literary honour. He was entertained at a public

dinner, attended by many of the distinguished literary characters both

of Scotland and the sister kingdom. The dinner took place at Peebles,

the chair being occupied by Professor Wilson. In reply to the toast of

his health, he pleasantly remarked, that he had courted fame on the

hill-side and in the city; and now, when he looked around and saw so

many distinguished individuals met together on his account, he could

exclaim that surely he had found it at last!

The career of the Bard of Ettrick was drawing to a close. His firm and

well-built frame was beginning to surrender under the load of anxiety,

as well as the pressure of years. Subsequent to his return from London,

a perceptible change had occurred in his constitution, yet he seldom

complained; and, even so late as April 1835, he gave to the world

evidence of remaining bodily and mental vigour, by publishing a work in

three volumes, under the title of "Montrose Tales." This proved to be

his last publication. The symptoms of decline rapidly increased; and,

though he ventured to proceed, as was his usual habit, to the moors in

the month of August, he could hardly enjoy the pleasures of a sportsman.

He became decidedly worse in the month of October, and was at length

obliged to confine himself to bed. After a severe illness of four weeks,

he died on the 21st of November, "departing this life," writes William

Laidlaw, "as calmly, and, to appearance, with as little pain, as if he

had fallen asleep, in his gray plaid, on the side of the moorland rill."

The Shepherd had attained his sixty-fifth year.

The funeral of the Bard was numerously attended by the population of the

district. Of his literary friends--owing to the remoteness of the

locality--Professor Wilson alone attended. He stood uncovered at the

grave after the rest of the company had retired, and consecrated, by his

tears, the green sod of his friend's last resting-place. With the

exception of Burns and Sir Walter Scott, never did Scottish bard receive

more elegies or tributes to his memory. He had had some variance with

Wordsworth; but this venerable poet, forgetting the past, became the

first to lament his departure. The following verses from his pen

appeared in the _Athenaeum_ of the 12th of December:--

"When first descending from the moorlands,

I saw the stream of Yarrow glide,

Along a bare and open valley,

The Ettrick Shepherd was my guide.

"When last along its banks I wander'd,

Through groves that had begun to shed

Their golden leaves upon the pathway,

My steps the Border Minstrel led.

"The mighty minstrel breathes no longer,

'Mid mouldering ruins low he lies;

And death, upon the braes of Yarrow,

Has closed the Shepherd-poet's eyes.

* * * * *

"No more of old romantic sorrows,

For slaughter'd youth or love-lorn maid,

With sharper grief is Yarrow smitten,

And Ettrick mourns with her their Shepherd dead!"

Within two bow-shots of the place where lately stood the cottage of his

birth, the remains of James Hogg are interred in the churchyard of

Ettrick. At the grave a plain tombstone to his memory has been erected

by his widow. "When the dark clouds of winter," writes Mr Scott Riddell,

"pass away from the crest of Ettrick-pen, and the summits of the

nearer-lying mountains, which surround the scene of his repose, and the

yellow gowan opens its bosom by the banks of the mountain stream, to

welcome the lights and shadows of the spring returning over the land,

many are the wild daisies which adorn the turf that covers the remains

of THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. And a verse of one of the songs of his early

days, bright and blissful as they were, is thus strikingly verified,

when he says--

'Flow, my Ettrick! it was thee

Into my life that first did drop me;

Thee I 'll sing, and when I dee,

Thou wilt lend a sod to hap me.

Pausing swains will say, and weep,

Here our Shepherd lies asleep.'"

As formerly described, Hogg was, in youth, particularly good-looking and

well-formed. A severe illness somewhat changed the form of his features.

His countenance[43] presented the peculiarity of a straight cheekbone;

his forehead was capacious and elevated, and his eye remarkable for its

vivacity. His hair, in advanced life, became dark brown, mixed with

gray. He was rather above the middle height, and was well-built; his

chest was broad, his shoulders square, and his limbs well-rounded. He

disliked foppery, but was always neat in his apparel: on holidays he

wore a suit of black. Forty years old ere he began to mix in the circles

of polished life, he never attained a knowledge of the world and its

ways; in all his transactions he retained the simplicity of the pastoral

character. His Autobiography is the most amusing in the language, from

the honesty of the narrator; never before did man of letters so minutely

reveal the history of his foibles and failings. He was entirely

unselfish and thoroughly benevolent; the homeless wanderer was sure of

shelter under his roof, and the poor of some provision by the way.

Towards his aged parents his filial affection was of the most devoted

kind. Hospitable even to a fault, every visitor received his kindly

welcome, and his visitors were more numerous than those of any other man

of letters in the land.[44] Fond of conviviality, he loved the

intercourse of congenial minds; the voice of friendship was always more

precious to him than the claims of business. He was somewhat expert in

conversation; he talked Scotch on account of long habit, and because it

was familiar to him. He was possessed of a good musical ear, and loved

to sing the ballads of his youth, with several of his own songs; and the

enthusiasm with which he sung amply compensated for the somewhat

discordant nature of his voice. A night with the Shepherd was an event

to be remembered. He was zealous in the cause of education; and he built

a school at Altrive, and partly endowed a schoolmaster, for the benefit

of the children of the district. A Jacobite as respected the past, he

was in the present a devoted loyalist, and strongly maintained that the

stability of the state was bound up in the support of the monarchy; he

had shuddered at the atrocities of the French Revolution, and

apprehended danger from precipitate reform; his politics were strictly

conservative. He was earnest on the subject of religion, and regular in

his attendance upon Divine ordinances. When a shepherd, he had been in

the habit of conducting worship in the family during the absence or

indisposition of his employer, and he was careful in impressing the

sacredness of the duty upon his own children. During his London visit,

he prepared and printed a small book of prayers and hymns for the use of

his family, which he dedicated to them as a New Year's gift. These

prayers are eminently devotional, and all his hymns breathe the language

of fervency and faith. From the strict rules of morality he may have

sometimes deviated, but it would be the worst exercise of

uncharitableness to doubt of his repentance.

It is the lot of men of genius to suffer from the envenomed shafts of

calumny and detraction. The reputation of James Hogg has thus bled. Much

has been said to his prejudice by those who understood not the simple

nature of his character, and were incapable of forming an estimate of

the principles of his life. He has been broadly accused[45] of doing an

injury to the memory of Sir Walter Scott, who was one of his best

benefactors; to which it might be a sufficient reply, that he was

incapable of perpetrating an ungenerous act. But how stands the fact?

Hogg strained his utmost effort to do honour to the dust of his

illustrious friend! He published reminiscences of him in a small volume,

and in such terms as the following did he pronounce his eulogy:--"He had

a clear head as well as a benevolent heart; was a good man, an anxiously

kind husband, an indulgent parent, and a sincere, forgiving friend; a

just judge, and a punctual correspondent.... Such is the man we have

lost, and such a man we shall never see again. He was truly an

extraordinary man,--the greatest man in the world."[46] Was ever more

panegyrical language used in biography? But Hogg ventured to publish his

recollections of his friend, instead of supplying them for the larger

biography; perhaps some connexion may be traced between this fact and

the indignation of Scott's literary executor! Possessed, withal, of a

genial temper, he was sensitive of affront, and keen in his expressions

of displeasure; he had his hot outbursts of anger with Wilson and

Wordsworth, and even with Scott, on account of supposed slights, but his

resentment speedily subsided, and each readily forgave him. He was

somewhat vain of his celebrity, but what shepherd had not been vain of

such achievements?

Next to Robert Burns, the Ettrick Shepherd is unquestionably the most

distinguished of Scottish bards, sprung from the ranks of the people: in

the region of the imagination he stands supreme. A child of the forest,

nursed amidst the wilds and tutored among the solitudes of nature, his

strong and vigorous imagination had received impressions from the

mountain, the cataract, the torrent, and the wilderness, and was filled

with pictures and images of the mysterious, which those scenes were

calculated to awaken. "Living for years in solitude," writes Professor

Wilson,[47] "he unconsciously formed friendships with the springs, the

brooks, the caves, the hills, and with all the more fleeting and

faithless pageantry of the sky, that to him came in place of those human

affections, from whose indulgence he was debarred by the necessities

that kept him aloof from the cottage fire, and up among the mists on the

mountain top. The still green beauty of the pastoral hills and vales

where he passed his youth, inspired him with ever-brooding visions of

fairy-land, till, as he lay musing in his lonely shieling, the world of

phantasy seemed, in the clear depths of his imagination, a lovelier

reflection of that of nature, like the hills and heavens more softly

shining in the water of his native lake." Hogg was in his element, as he

revelled amid the supernatural, and luxuriated in the realms of faery:

the mysterious gloom of superstition was lit up into brilliancy by the

potent wand of his enchantment, and before the splendour of his genius.

His ballad of "Kilmeny," in the "Queen's Wake," is the emanation of a

poetical mind evidently of the most gifted order; never did bard

conceive a finer fairy tale, or painter portray a picture of purer, or

more spiritual and exquisite sweetness. "The Witch of Fife," another

ballad in "The Wake," has scarcely a parallel in wild unearthliness and

terror; and we know not if sentiments more spiritual or sublime are to

be found in any poetry than in some passages of "The Pilgrims of the

Sun." His ballads, generally in his peculiar vein of the romantic and

supernatural, are all indicative of power; his songs are exquisitely

sweet and musical, and replete with pathos and pastoral dignity. Though

he had written only "When the kye comes hame," and "Flora Macdonald's

Lament," his claims to an honoured place in the temple of Scottish song

had been unquestioned. As a prose-writer, he does not stand high; many

of his tales are interesting in their details, but they are too

frequently disfigured by a rugged coarseness; yet his pastoral

experiences in the "Shepherd's Calendar" will continue to find readers

and admirers while a love for rural habits, and the amusing arts of

pastoral life, finds a dwelling in the Scottish heart.

Of the Shepherd it has been recorded by one[48] who knew him well, that

at the time of his death he had certainly the youngest heart of all who

had ever attained his age; he was possessed of a buoyancy which

misfortune might temporarily depress, but could not subdue. To the close

of his career, he rejoiced in the sports and field exercises of his

youth; in his best days he had, in the games of leaping and running,

been usually victorious in the annual competitions at Eskdalemuir; in

his advanced years, he was constituted judge at the annual Scottish

games at Innerleithen. A sportsman, he was famous alike on the moor and

by the river; the report of his musket was familiar on his native hills;

and hardly a stream in south or north but had yielded him their finny

brood. By young authors he was frequently consulted, and he entered with

enthusiasm into their concerns; many poets ushered their volumes into

the world under his kindly patronage. He had his weaker points; but his

worth and genius were such as to extort the reluctant testimony of one

who was latterly an avowed antagonist, that he was "the most remarkable

man that ever wore the _maud_ of a Shepherd."[49]

Hogg left some MSS. which are still unpublished,--the journals of his

Highland tours being in the possession of Mr Peter Cunningham of London.

Since his death, a uniform edition of many of his best works,

illustrated with engravings from sketches by Mr D. O. Hill, has been

published, with the concurrence of the family, by the Messrs Blackie of

Glasgow, in eleven volumes duodecimo. A Memoir, undertaken for that

edition by the late Professor Wilson, was indefinitely postponed. A

pension on the Civil List of L50 was conferred by the Queen on Mrs Hogg,

the poet's widow, in October 1853; and since her husband's death, she

has received an annuity of L40 from the Duke of Buccleuch. Of a family

of five, one son and three daughters survive, some of whom are

comfortably settled in life.

[28] The Shepherd entertained the belief that he was born on the 25th of

January 1772.

[29] Mr Macturk is well remembered in Dumfriesshire as a person of

remarkable shrewdness and unbounded generosity.

[30] Mr Gray was the author of "Cona, or the Vale of Clywyd," "A Sabbath

among the Mountains," and other poems.

[31] The ballad of "Gilmanscleuch" appeared in "The Mountain Bard." See

"The Ettrick Shepherd's Poems," vol. ii., p. 203. Blackie and Son.

[32] "The Poetic Mirror," for which the Shepherd had begun to collect

contributions.

[33] Jeffrey reviewed Wordsworth's "Excursion" in the _Edinburgh Review_

for November 1814, and certainly had never used more declamatory

language against any poem.

[34] In a letter to Mr Grosvenor C. Bedford, dated Keswick, December 22,

1814, Southey thus writes:--"Had you not better wait for Jeffrey's

attack upon 'Roderick.' I have a most curious letter upon this subject

from Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, a worthy fellow, and a man of very

extraordinary powers. Living in Edinburgh, he thinks Jeffrey the

greatest man in the world--an intellectual Bonaparte, whom nobody and

nothing can resist. But Hogg, notwithstanding this, has fallen in liking

with me, and is a great admirer of 'Roderick.' And this letter is to

request that I will not do anything to _nettle_ Jeffrey while he is

deliberating concerning 'Roderick,' for he seems favourably disposed

towards me! Morbleu! it is a rich letter! Hogg requested that he himself

might review it, and gives me an extract from Jeffrey's answer, refusing

him. 'I have, as well as you, a great respect for Southey,' he says,

'but he is a most provoking fellow, and at least as conceited as his

neighbour Wordsworth.' But he shall be happy to talk to Hogg upon this

and other _kindred_ subjects, and he should be very glad to give me a

lavish allowance of praise, if I would afford him occasion, &c.; but he

must do what he thinks his duty, &c.! I laugh to think of the effect my

reply will produce upon Hogg. How it will make every bristle to stand on

end like quills upon the fretful porcupine!"--_Life and Correspondence

of Robert Southey, edited by his Son_, vol. iv., p. 93. London: 6 vols.

8vo.

[35] The first edition of "Roderick" was in quarto,--a shape which the

Shepherd deemed unsuitable for poetry.

[36] Murray of Abermarle Street, the famous publisher.

[37] Hogg evinced his strong displeasure with Sir Walter for his

refusal, by writing him a declamatory letter, and withdrawing from his

society for several months. The kind inquiries which his old benefactor

had made regarding him during a severe illness, afterwards led to a

complete reconciliation,--the Shepherd apologising by letter for his

former rashness, and his illustrious friend telling him "to think no

more of the business, and come to breakfast next morning."

[38] See Hogg's autobiography, prefixed to the fifth volume of Blackie's

edition of his poems, p. 107.

[39] See the Works of Professor Wilson, edited by his Son-in-law,

Professor Ferrier, vol. i., p. xvi. Edinburgh: 1855. 8vo.

[40] When the Shepherd was tending the flocks of Mr Harkness of

Mitchel-slack, on the great hill of Queensberry, in Nithsdale, he was

visited by Allan Cunningham, then a lad of eighteen, who came to see

him, moved with admiration for his genius.--(See Memoir of Allan

Cunningham, _postea_). [Transcriber's Note: This Memoir appears in

Volume III.]

[41] Thomas Mouncey Cunningham. See _postea_.

[42] The Shakspeare Club of Alloa, which is here referred to, took its

origin early in the century--being composed of admirers of the

illustrious dramatist, and lovers of general literature in that place.

The anniversary meeting was usually held on the 23d of April, generally

supposed to be the birth-day of the poet. The Shepherd was laureate of

the club, and was present at many of the meetings. On these occasions he

shared the hospitality of Mr Alexander Bald, now of Craigward

Cottage--"the Father of the Club," and one of his own attached literary

friends. Mr Bald formed the Shepherd's acquaintance in 1803, when on a

visit to his friend Grieve, at Cacrabank. This venerable gentleman is in

possession of the original M.S. of the "Ode to the Genius of

Shakspeare," which Hogg wrote for the Alloa Club in 1815. In a letter,

addressed to Mr Bald, accompanying that composition, he wrote as

follows: "_Edin., April 23d, 1815._--Let the bust of Shakspeare be

crowned with laurel on Thursday, for I expect it will be a memorable day

for the club, as well as in the annals of literature,--for I yesterday

got the promise of being accompanied by both _Wilson_, and _Campbell_,

the bard of Hope. I must, however, remind you that it was very late, and

over a bottle, when I extracted this promise--they both appeared,

however, to swallow the proposal with great avidity, save that the

latter, in conversing about our means of conveyance, took a mortal

disgust at the word _steam_, as being a very improper agent in the

wanderings of poets. I have not seen either of them to-day, and it is

likely that they will be in very different spirits, yet I think it not

improbable that one or both of them may be induced to come." The club

did not on this occasion enjoy the society of any of the three poets.

[43] Hogg used to say that his face was "out of all rule of drawing," as

an apology for artists, who so generally failed in transferring a

correct representation of him to canvas. There were at least four

oil-paintings of the poet: the first executed by Nicholson in 1817, for

Mr Grieve; the second by Sir John Watson Gordon for Mr Blackwood; the

third by a London artist for Allan Cunningham; and the fourth by Mr

James Scott of Edinburgh, for the poet himself. The last is universally

admitted to be the most striking likeness, and, with the permission of

Mrs Hogg, it has been very successfully lithographed for the present

volume.

[44] See "Memoir and Correspondence of Mrs Grant of Laggan." 1844.

[45] See Lockhart's "Life of Sir Walter Scott."

[46] "The Domestic Memoirs and Private Life of Sir Walter Scott, by

James Hogg," p. 118. Glasgow, 1834. 16mo.

[47] _Blackwood's Magazine_, vol. iv., p. 521.

[48] Mr H. S. Riddell.

[49] Mr J. G. Lockhart.