ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 183 



conversation as to subdue at once the stubborn re- 

 bellions of prejudice, and remodel the preconceived 

 notions of those who judged from surface glimpses, 

 and without any proper acquaintance. 



I have often wondered at the respect paid to less 

 amiable men. How they are prated of and homaged 

 as patterns of moral worth how their meagre vir- 

 tues are bandied about from mouth to mouth, and 

 a dignity is given them greater than their merits 

 how, because they industriously cloak up and con- 

 ceal their foibles, therefore they are deemed ever 

 upright, without flaw or blemish, the embodied per- 

 sonifications of human propriety. Not, indeed, of 

 this sort was James Hogg! he had none of the so- 

 lemn pragmatism of the scholastic grandee, none of 

 the starch and stiffness of the moral pedant. He de- 

 spised to affect a gravity and demureness foreign to 

 his buoyant and playful nature, and loved laughing 

 wisdom better than serious folly. I have an esteem 

 for his memory, which is injured none by the carp- 

 ings and prejudices of others. I knew the man 

 better than they did, and have ever regarded him 

 as uniting in his character many of the most valu- 

 able aspects of human virtue. 



But enough of this James Hogg was a zealous 

 angler, and that is saying much for any man. He 

 had the mysteries of the craft at his finger-ends. 

 It was a part of his poetical existence to lavish the 

 forenoon hours abroad by the river-side, enticing 

 the yellow-fins with his big, brown hackles, or scru- 



