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CHAPTER XIX.

PINDAR, HOGG, BOWLES.

Genius is of no country, her pure ray
Spreads all around as genial as the day;
Foe to restraint, from place to place she flies,
And may hereafter e'en in Holland rise.

Why should we then abroad for judges roam,

When abler judges we may find at home ?-CHURCHILL.

FROM these dark themes will my readers allow me to seek refuge for myself and them, by disregarding the order of dates, and offering them a foretaste of the correspondence with which I hope to make my work more interesting to them, and the literary world at large, when I come to busier times and the distinguished individuals with whom they brought me into contact. In serious Opera, I have generally observed the audience pleased with the Divertissement between the acts; and I trust my interlude will be equally well received.

Peter Pindar was a comical animal, and not easily to be over-reached, however clever he might be in the way of over-reaching; of which a notable instance is related when he "took in all the astute combination of London publishers. A meeting was convened (as I have heard described), at which Dr. Wolcot was to treat for the sale of his copyrights to this united body, which in those days

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acted in concert with regard to important new productions, and the joint purchase of established publications. This was "the Trade; a name of wealth and might. The Doctor had previously been unwell, but the booksellers had received no intimation how extremely ill he was. They were almost shocked to negotiate with a person who had one foot, if not both, in the grave. Peter was pale and worn, and afflicted with a cough so dry and hollow that it went to the heart to hear it. It was of little consequence to him what bargain was struck; in his dying condition he would prefer a considerable sum down at once, to dispose of as he thought proper on the other side an annuity was suggested, they hoped he would speedily recover, and enjoy it for many years to come in ease and independence. Peter had no idea of what possible value an annuity could be to him; but, to cut the business short, after a good deal of haggling and a great deal more of fearful coughing, which threatened to choke him on the spot and put an end to the treaty, he consented to take an annual allowance more apportioned to his evanescent state, than to the real worth of the wares he sold. The contract was engrossed and signed, and the forlorn recipient no sooner put it in his pocket, than he wiped the chalk off his face, dropt all practice of his hectic and killing cough, and in a lively manner wished his customers good bye, as he danced out of the room, laughing at the success with which he had gulled them. Tom Campbell used to say, he greatly admired Buonaparte because he had shot a bookseller (the heroic and unfortunate Palm): had he been here in the same ironical mood, he must have worshipped Pindar.

He escaped, poor old gentleman, as well out of his famous crim. con. case, where it was endeavoured to entrap

him into damages, for doing nothing but teach the wife of his lodging-house host to spout tragedy, as he assured her she would be as great as Mrs. Siddons on the stage. To bare her breast, and throw about her arms, let down her disheveled hair, were the natural parts of this dramatic tuition, and so the jury thought, and found a verdict for the defendant.

Of his negociation with government I can give an authentic account, which for the sake of all poets, I am sorry to remark did not redound to the credit of the satirist. His writings had a wide range, and great popular effect; and his absurd pictures of the King, tended to make nearly the whole country believe that his Majesty was little better than a simpleton or a fool. Some of these squibs annoyed the monarch, or at any rate his family, and most attached and loyal servants; and when it pleased God to visit him with the sore affliction of wandering reason, his ministers felt a laudable anxiety to guard against any chance of vexation from the venomous pen of this modern Thersites. I was interested enough to inquire into this matter, and the explanation I received from the most authentic source was as follows:

"All I can recollect of the point to which you refer is that the gentleman in question (P. P.) proposed through a friend to lend his literary assistance in support of the measures of government, at the time referred to, with the expectation of some reward for such services. He did nothing, and then claimed a remuneration for silence, and for not having continued those attacks which he had been in the habit of making. This claim was, of course, rejected, and he took his line accordingly, ridiculing and slandering as before."

Tremendous was Gifford's denunciation of him :—

"But what is he that with a Mohawk's air,
Cries havoc and lets slip the dogs of war?
A bloated mass, a gross, blood-boltered clod,
A foe to man, a renegade from God;
From noxious childhood to pernicious age,
Separate to infamy in every stage."

The account of the rather uncommon transaction annexed (would it were otherwise) will, I am sure, be read with interest by every literary person and admirer of the justly famed Ettrick Shepherd. The first letter, signed C. D., I received with the Sheffield post-mark upon it, and never knew more of the generous writer, who or what he was. I bought a bank post bill with it, and remitted it to the owner.

"SIR,

"The enclosed Bank of England Note, value twenty pounds, is sent for Hogg, the poet, by his very true friend,

"C. D."

I have, for the moment, mislaid the Shepherd's acknowledgment of this liberal tribute to his genius, but will endeavour to supply its place by another letter from him, when I had also the good fortune to be the medium for forwarding a still more substantial token of the esteem in which his honest heart and original talent were held. The acknowledgment is very characteristic.

"DEAR SIR,

"Mount Bangor by Selkirk.

"I received your's, containing the valuable present,

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with no little astonishment; indeed I c

my ain een,' as we say, when I one hitherto I have sparingly believe

VOL. I.

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make the most glowing expressions of esteem and admiration, &c., that are most to be depended on. I was three days with Sir W. Scott, at Abbotsford, last month, and among the first things he inquired was, if I had written to you, and of your answer. I told him your's was a friendly letter, but cherished no hopes whatever. He said he was sorry for that, for whatever you took by the end you generally made a point of carrying, and he heard there was, or soon to be, a pecuniary vacancy, and no more passed. I am yet at a loss whether it is the same society which we corresponded about, or another one, to whom I am indebted for this most timely and welcome relief, but, at all events, I am sure you were the moving spring of the grateful act. I shall speak of it to no man save Sir W. Scott, and for your credit I cannot but mention it to him. My circumstances are, at present, such that, in spite of the spirit of independence natural to a Scotsman, I gladly accept of the proffered boon, although I would fain hope only as a loan. And after the deep interest you have taken in me, it is proper you should know that it is not my own family concerns that have straitened me most, but those of others; the whole weight of three families, with their expenses, having fallen on me, and just at a time when both farming and literature were standing with their backs at the wa', and my means quite inadequate to the charge. For four of these individuals I expect remuneration in whole or in part, at some future period, but at present it is wanting. My father-in-law is removed from this stage of existence since I wrote you,-an excellent old man, reduced from great affluence to a total dependence on me. My frail mother-in-law, with her attendants, are now incorporated with our own family, so that, in that respect too, my expenses will be greatly shortened, and upon the whole I

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