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Updated: May 27, 2025
We see, from Hogg's description, how impassioned was a meeting between Mary and Shelley, which he chanced to witness; and later on Shelley is said to have rushed into her room with laudanum, threatening to take it if she would not have pity on him.
Home, where I was saluted with the news of Hogg's bringing a rich Canary prize to Hull: and Sir W. Batten do offer me 1000l. down for my particular share, beside Sir Richard Ford's part; which do tempt me; but yet I would not take it;, but will stand and fall with the company.
So to dinner with my wife, and then to sing, and so to the office, where busy all the afternoon late, and to Sir W. Batten's and to Sir R. Ford's, we all to consider about our great prize at Hull, being troubled at our being likely to be troubled with Prince Rupert, by reason of Hogg's consorting himself with two privateers of the Prince's, and so we study how to ease or secure ourselves.
They were panting for each other's blood from the start, and before they had been urged over a quarter of the way they found an opportunity of warfare, and seized it simultaneously. Then the air grew murky with sound cockatoo shrieks, mingled with cat calls and fluent Chinese, cutting across Hogg's good, broad Scots.
I find it described as one of the best dessert apples in Dr. Hogg's Fruit Manual, and my copy is the third edition published in 1866, so it must have been well known to him some years previously, though we never heard much about it until after the twentieth century came in.
"Well, Hogg's got enough an' to spare," was Murty's comment. "No union touch about his work. I reckon he's put in sixteen hours a day at that garden since we heard they were comin'." "But there never was any union touch about Billabong," said Mrs. Brown. "Not much! We all know when we're well off," said Murty. "I'll bet no union was ever as good a boss as David Linton."
Arnold's poem, which has made permanent for all time the charm, the sentiment of Oxfordshire scenery, the poet seems to be following the track of Shelley. In Mr. Hogg's memoirs we hear little of summer; it seems always to have been in winter that the friends took their long rambles, in which Shelley set free, in talk, his inspiration. One thinks of him
Marvellous to tell, the country-people unanimously agreed afterwards to refer the whole terrific storm to some secret incantations of poor Hogg's literary society aforesaid; it was generally maintained that a club of young dare-devils had raised the Fiend himself among them in the likeness of a black dog, the night preceding the storm, and the young students actually did not dare to show themselves at fairs or at markets for a year afterwards.
A British agricultural author, speaking of him in a pitiful way, says, "He passed years of busy authorship, and encountered the usual difficulties of that penurious mode of life." This is good; it is as good as anything of Hogg's. I approach the name of Mr. Loudon, the author of the Encyclopædias of Gardening and Agriculture, with far more of respect.
And now the blundering fool had brought this blaze down upon them, was indeed rushing round and screaming at his antagonist, shouting to any one who would hear that Ronder was a blackguard and a public menace. It had been whispered from what source again Ronder did not know that it was through Ronder's influence that young Falk Brandon had run off to Town with Hogg's daughter.
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