that finds his way through all these obstructions, must acknowledge that he is indebted to other causes besides his industry, originality, or wit..

Surely, he that has been confined from his infancy to the conversation of the lowest classes of mankind, must necessarily want those accomplishments which are the usual means of attracting favor; and, though truth, fortitude, and probity may be supposed to give an indisputable right to respect and kindness, they will not be distinguished by common eyes, unless they are brightened by elegance, but must be cast aside as unpolished gems of which none but the artist knows the intrinsic value.

The world has a thousand times witnessed what mighty things can be accomplished by the assistance of learning, but it has never yet ascertained how much may be accomplished without it. The pleasure, then, of making the experiment, though in a branch of literature that some may ridicule, and others despise, offers him sufficient inducement for perseverance. The chief art of attaining eminence in anything, is to attempt little at a time. The widest excursions of the mind are made by short flights often repeated; the most lofty fabrics of science have been formed by the continued accumulations of single propositions-the Spy may be worsted-he shall never be discouraged.

Hogg's next venture was to form a public debating society called the Forum. Its history is fully set forth in the Autobiography and need not be set down here. To the Forum, Hogg attributed much of his skill of feeling the public pulse, a trait he believed himself to possess in an eminent degree, but of which he gave little evidence. Some of the amusing incidents concerning this society gave rise to the Forum, A Tragedy for Cold Weather, which, however, was never published. It was at the Forum that Hogg became acquainted with a Mr. Goldie, who subsequently published The Queen's Wake, and whose sudden failure constituted another link in Hogg's chain of financial disaster. At this time (1812) a few copies were printed of The Hunting of Badlewe, under the nom de plume of J. H. Craig, of Douglas, after which Hogg gave up writing for the stage. Subsequently, however, he put forth, in 1817, two volumes of Dramatic Tales, which were merely dramatic dialogues untrammelled with dramatic structure. They neither merited nor received attention.

Hogg's personal acquaintance was steadily growing among the literary lights of Edinburgh, among which class, however, no one yet thought of classing him. The Isle of Palms appeared in 1812, and Hogg's enthusiastic review of this poem brought him into contact with Christopher North, whom he

visited at Elleray many times in subsequent years. The acquaintance thus begun between the Shepherd and Professor Wilson was sincere, and, with one short exception, lasting. The white-haired professor of philosophy was the most striking figure as well as the most affected mourner in that slow train that wended its way twenty years later, along the Heart Leap Road, down by Tushielaw to Ettrick Kirk. Thru Wilson's means grew up a friendship between Hogg and Robert Southey; also an acquaintance with Wordsworth; but the poet of Rydal Mount on one occasion spoke contemptuously of Hogg's power as a poet and Wordsworth was never forgiven by the touchy Shepherd.

The fate of The Forest Minstrel had not discouraged Hogg. He now became desirous of publishing another volume of verse. He had recently written a good deal, and, rather than lose it, hastily joined it together into a long narrative poem of very loose structure. The story of The Queen's Wake is simple: Mary Queen of Scots arrives in Scotland and decides to have a poetic contest in which all the bards of Scotland are to take part. They meet, contest for three days, and the victor is judged. The major part of the production consists of the songs sung by the bards. It was merely as a pretext for joining together these already-written songs that Hogg hit upon the plan of the Wake.

The history of its publication may be told here to the end. Constable agreed to the undertaking. Goldie, of Forum acquaintance, gave a better offer; Hogg transferred the volume and offended Constable in consequence. The book was a tremendous success and made Hogg instantly famous; but, before he had reaped any pecuniary benefits Goldie failed and Hogg became bankrupt. Yet this misfortune was not wholly without its advantage for it was in the capacity of one of Goldie's executors that Mr. Blackwood was introduced to the Shepherd. One finds in this poem many false rhymes. Doubtless Hogg justified himself in this practice by the similar fault in the poetry of his idol, Scott. The verse of The Queen's Wake is far more monotonous than Scott's, the Shepherd not having learned the advantage to be derived from variety of rhyme and meter. In the course of the poem Hogg often clumsily refers to himself, and there are other minor faults. Yet, in spite of these, one bows in wonder and admiration before such a poem or series of poems from such a man. Queen Mary is

brilliantly described on her return to Scotland from France. One of the finest qualities is the description of each bard that precedes his song. Each one is thoroly different from all the others, and is not only vividly painted but also in complete harmony with the tone of the song he sings. Above all, The Queen's Wake contains the two songs upon which Hogg's reputation as a poet could rest alone and not diminish. Kilmeny and The Witch of Fife are not only the best of Hogg's productions, but the best of the kind in our language. No one has ever touched the supernatural so supernaturally. No wonder that Hogg sprang with one leap into renown! All Edinburgh read the poem breathlessly. Everyone wanted to know the author of Kilmeny. People asked themselves how it happened that he had been among them all this time like a light under a bushel. They began to recognize at this tardy hour the excellence of The Spy. People shook the Shepherd by the hand, invited him to their houses, and showed him off.

At last, in the following year, The Edinburgh Review published an article from which the following quotation is taken. From the date of this criticism Hogg may be considered as an established man of letters.

It ought also be recorded to his honour that he has uniformly sought this success by the fairest and most manly means; and that neither poverty nor ambition has been able to produce in him the slightest degree of obsequiousness towards the possessors of glory or of power; or events subdue in him a certain disposition to bid defiance to critics and to hold poets and patrons equally cheap and familiar; and to think that they can in general give no more honour than they receive from his acquaintance. These traits, we think, are unusual in men whom talents have raised out of a humble condition of society-especially when they are unaccompanied as in the present instance, either with any inherent insolence of character, or any irregularities of private life; and therefore we have thought it right to notice them. But at all events, the merit of the volume before us, is such as to entitle it to our notice; and as the author has fairly fought his way to that distinction, we are not disposed to withhold from him either the additional notoriety that it may still be in our power to bestow, or the admonition that may enable him still further to improve a talent that has already surprised us so much by its improvement.

Mr. Hogg has undoubtedly many of the qualifications of a poetgreat powers of versification-an unusual copiousness and facility in the use of poetical diction and imagery—a lively conception of natural beauty-with a quick and prolific fancy to body forth his conceptions. With all this, however, he is deficient in some more substantial req

uisites. There is a sensible want of incident, and character, and pathos, about all his compositions.

Mr. Hogg's forte consists in the striking representation of supernatural occurrences, or of the more imposing aspects of external nature; and we certainly consider his narratives of less marvellous events, as of inferior merit. His descriptions, however, are always brilliant and copious; though frequently drawn out to such a length, as to become in some degree tedious and languid."

Commendation poured in fast from all sides. His brother poets welcomed him. Southey was enthusiastic. Scott befriended him more than ever. Mr. Blackwood was such a successful executor of Goldie's affairs that Hogg eventually made a neat sum out of the sale of the book. So, in every way, Hogg had good reason to look upon his Edinburgh sojourn with the pride of success achieved under the greatest of difficulties.

1 Edinburgh Review, November, 1814, page 151, etc.

CHAPTER 5

LIFE AT ALTRIVE LAKE

IN the summer of 1814 Hogg, while upon one of his numerous trips to the Highlands, was for some time laid up with a cold at Kinnaird House in Athole, the residence of Mr. Chalmers Izett. It was while here that Mrs. Izett proposed to Hogg that he do something to "prevent his mind from rusting". The result of this suggestion is Mador of the Moor, a poem that contains much commendable description, but of which the structure is so loose and the matter so commonplace that it adds little or nothing to its author's reputation. At the time, however, it was passably well received, and Hogg was gratified by the following letter1 from the Duke of Buccleugh: Penrich, May 7, 1816.

Sir,

I return you my thanks for your present of Mador of the Moor. This poem has gratified and amused me much. I do not pretend to be a critic, or judge of poetry in proportion to the interest it creates in me. I shall therefore only add that Mador shall be immediately re-read as soon as the different individuals of my family shall have perused it, a period at no great distance.

Your friend and well-wisher,

Buccleugh, &c.

Hogg's celebrity was now sufficient to warrant the painting of a portrait. Nicholas was at work upon it in 1815; and on St. Valentine's Day Hogg addressed a letter to his friend Laidlaw.

Dear Laidlaw,

If I cannot procure Lion before this day eight days, I am positively condemned to sit ages and centuries in company with a butcher's collie, in the town, as unlike my strumpit whelp as I to Hercules. If you can submit to this, why, then, I must; but positively I shall never look at my own picture. If I were to come myself I have no time to stay, for the artist says he would not that my picture were not in the exhibition this year for 50 pounds, and he cannot give it a tone until the figures are adjusted. Two nights and a day are quite sufficient for Rob to stay here, and in that case he will get the dog home with him.

Yours ever.-J. H.

1 Published by Mrs. Garden, page 106.

2 Quoted by Mrs. Garden, page 83.