The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hogarth's Works, with life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures. Volume 1 (of 3)
    
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Title: Hogarth's Works, with life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures. Volume 1 (of 3)

Author: John Ireland
        John Nichols

Release date: April 21, 2016 [eBook #51821]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, John Campbell and the Online
        Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
        file was produced from images generously made available
        by The Internet Archive)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOGARTH'S WORKS, WITH LIFE AND ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF HIS PICTURES. VOLUME 1 (OF 3) ***




Produced by Chris Curnow, John Campbell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)









  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=.

  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
  corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
  the text and consultation of external sources.

  Footnotes have been moved to the end of the book text, and before
  the publisher's Book Catalog. Some Footnotes are very long.

  The 3-star asterism symbol in the Catalog is denoted by ***.

  More detail can be found at the end of the book.




  HOGARTH'S WORKS:

  WITH

  _LIFE AND ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF HIS PICTURES_.

  FIRST SERIES.

[Illustration: WILLIAM HOGARTH & HIS DOG TRUMP.]




  HOGARTH'S WORKS:

  WITH

  _LIFE AND ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF
  HIS PICTURES_.

  BY

  JOHN IRELAND AND JOHN NICHOLS, F.S.A.

  [Illustration: (publisher's colophon)]

  _THE WHOLE OF THE PLATES REDUCED IN EXACT
  FAC-SIMILE OF THE ORIGINALS._

  First Series.

  London

  CHATTO AND WINDUS, PUBLISHERS.
  (_SUCCESSORS TO JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN._)




LIST OF PLATES

DESCRIBED IN THE FIRST SERIES.


                                                                  PAGE

  PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, WITH HIS DOG
  TRUMP,                                                _Frontispiece_

  FULL-LENGTH PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, BY HIMSELF,
  ENGAGED IN PAINTING THE COMIC MUSE,                               18

  THE BATTLE OF THE PICTURES,                                       44

  ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY--

      PLATE I.,                                                     60

      PLATE II.,                                                    64

  SIGISMUNDA,                                                       76

  TIME SMOKING A PICTURE,                                           80

  THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS--

      PLATE I. At the Bell Inn, in Wood Street--Mary Hackabout
      and the Procuress,                                           102

      PLATE II. The Jew's Mistress quarrelling with her Keeper,    106

      PLATE III. The Lodging in Drury Lane--Visit of the
      Constables,                                                  110

      PLATE IV. Mary Hackabout beating Hemp in Bridewell,          112

      PLATE V. The Harlot's Death--Quacks Disputing,               114

      PLATE VI. The Funeral,                                       118

  THE RAKE'S PROGRESS--

      PLATE I. Tom Rakewell taking possession of the rich
      Miser's effects,                                             124

      PLATE II. The young Squire's Levee,                          128

      PLATE III. The Night House,                                  132

      PLATE IV. The Spendthrift arrested for Debt--Released
      by his forsaken Sweetheart,                                  136

      PLATE V. Marylebone Church--Rakewell married to a Shrew,     140

      PLATE VI. The Fire at the Gambling Hell,                     144

      PLATE VII. The Fleet Prison,                                 148

      PLATE VIII. The Madhouse--The Faithful Friend,               154

  SOUTHWARK FAIR,                                                  162

  A MIDNIGHT MODERN CONVERSATION,                                  184

  THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION,                                       192

  THE DISTRESSED POET,                                             200

  THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN,                                            206

  THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY--

      MORNING. Miss Bridget Alworthy on her way to Church,         216

      NOON. A Motley Congregation leaving Service,                 222

      EVENING. The Shrew and her Husband going home--By
      the New River at Islington,                                  226

      NIGHT. The Drunken Freemason taken care of by the
      Waiter at the Rummer Tavern,                                 230

  STROLLING ACTRESSES DRESSING IN A BARN,                          240

  MR. GARRICK IN THE CHARACTER OF RICHARD THE THIRD,               255

  INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS--

      PLATE I. The Fellow-apprentices,
      Thomas Goodchild and Thomas Idle, at their Looms,            270

      PLATE II. The Industrious Apprentice performing the duty
      of a Christian,                                              272

      PLATE III. The Idle Apprentice at play in the Churchyard
      during Divine Service,                                       274

      PLATE IV. The Industrious Apprentice a favourite, and
      trusted by his Master,                                       276

      PLATE V. The Idle Apprentice turned away and sent to
      sea,                                                         278

      PLATE VI. The Industrious Apprentice out of his time,
      and married to his Master's Daughter,                        280

      PLATE VII. The Idle Apprentice returned from sea,
      and in a Garret with a Common Prostitute,                    282

      PLATE VIII. The Industrious Apprentice grown rich, and
      Sheriff of London,                                           284

      PLATE IX. The Idle Apprentice betrayed by a Prostitute,
      and taken in a Night-cellar with his Accomplice,             286

      PLATE X. The Industrious Apprentice Alderman of London--The
      Idle one brought before him and impeached
      by his Accomplice,                                           288

      PLATE XI. The Idle Apprentice Executed at Tyburn,            290

      PLATE XII. The Industrious Apprentice Lord Mayor of
      London,                                                      292

  ROAST BEEF AT THE GATE OF CALAIS,                                298

  THE COUNTRY INN YARD--PREPARING TO START THE COACH,              306




PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.


It is a singular fact, that, notwithstanding the enormous popularity
enjoyed by Hogarth in the minds of English people, no perfectly
popular edition has been hitherto brought before the public. Were
a foreigner to ask an ordinary Briton who was the most thoroughly
national painter in the roll of English artists, the answer would be
undoubtedly William Hogarth; but the chances are that our countryman
would not have at command a tangible proof that his statement was
correct. Such editions as have hitherto appeared have been either
expensive or unsatisfactory,--even the handsome and costly volume by
Nichols is far from complete. To supply the want, the present issue
has been projected. The illustrative text of Ireland--undoubtedly the
best in existence--has been given in full, and is supplemented by
addenda from the works of Nichols. The three volumes form certainly
the most complete gallery of Hogarth's drawings yet given to the
public. The rapid progress of science has provided means by which
the pictures have been reduced from their original size to the
compact form of this page; while, at the same time, the most perfect
truthfulness has been preserved.

Hogarth is essentially English--brave, straight-forward, manly;
never pandering to fashion or fancy. When he had to deal with sin
and misery, he met them full in the face, bating no whit of their
repulsiveness; and in all his works, wherever a moral is to be
drawn, it is a noble and a healthy one. In his merry moods he is
irresistibly comic; when he stands forward as a censor of morals,
he is terrible in his truth; when he creates a character, it is
always human and complete,--a true reflex of the age in which he
lived. Times may change, and costumes, but humanity remains much the
same. Take any series of the splendid list, and the people who crowd
the canvas live and move amongst us with different names and other
attire. Such suggestive cognomens as Mary Hackabout are not in use;
nor do procuresses haunt such localities as Wood Street in pursuit of
their vile calling. The course of fashion, as of empire, has taken
its way westward; but the whole story of the Harlot's Progress is
as fresh and as applicable to a season in 1873 as it was a hundred
and forty years before. Have we not Tom Rakewells in scores among
us; and had Hogarth been living now, would he not have interpolated
another picture of the degradation attained by the spendthrift when
he enters the employment of the moneylender as a decoy to poor flies
such as he was himself at the beginning of the chapter? The function
of the satirist is still needed, and there is no danger of the works
of William Hogarth proving to be out of date. Probably no artist
ever told stories so well; certainly no one ever acquired such a
reputation, and there is no reason why his splendid monuments should
be found only in the libraries of the wealthy. Every one should
know something of him besides his moral lessons, since, of all the
moral lessons he ever taught, his life formed the most pointed.
Fearlessness and honesty were his watchwords from his early career of
art, after being released from the silversmith's apprenticeship in
1720 until the day of his death in 1764, when he retired from mundane
existence full of years and honours. As Ireland declares him to have
asserted, his drawings were meant for the crowd rather than for the
critics; and with that intention his book was commenced, the original
design being to comprise in one volume "a moral and analytical
description of seventy-eight prints;" but as the work advanced, such
an amount of anecdote and illustrative comment suggested itself,
that he was compelled to adopt the three-volume form which is here
followed, with the further addition to which we have alluded, of such
a full description and reproduction as the original compiler, from
accident or design, omitted. These will be found in the third volume,
and include many of the most important and meritorious works of the
great artist. It has been found advisable to change the ornamental
and sometimes indistinct lettering of the original plates, and to
adopt a consistent and uniform style of titles. At the same time
the elaborate catalogue compiled by Ireland is preserved, since it
is still highly valuable as a chronological list of every effort of
Hogarth's hand, although it would be folly to attempt a reproduction
of every variation it contains. The system pursued by Ireland and
Nichols is followed, and the Publishers venture to congratulate
themselves on submitting to the notice of the artistic and literary
world, as well as to the public generally, the best and cheapest
edition of Hogarth's complete works ever brought forward.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




INTRODUCTION.


Mr. Hogarth frequently asserted that no man was so ill qualified
to form a true judgment of pictures as the professed connoisseur;
whose taste being originally formed upon imitations, and confined to
the manners of Masters, had seldom any reference to Nature. Under
this conviction, his subjects were selected for the crowd rather
than the critic;[1] and explained in that universal language common
to the world, rather than in the _lingua technica_ of the arts,
which is sacred to the scientific. Without presuming to support his
hypothesis, I have endeavoured to follow his example.

My original design was to have comprised in one volume a moral and
analytical description of seventy-eight prints; but as the work
advanced, such variety of anecdote and long train of _et cetera_
clung to the narrative, that these limits were found too narrow. With
the explanation of fifteen additional plates, the letterpress has
expanded to near seven hundred pages.

Where the artist has been made a victim to poetical or political
prejudice, without meaning to be his panegyrist, I have endeavoured
to rescue his memory from unmerited obloquy. Where his works have
been misconceived or misrepresented, I have attempted the true
reading. In my essay at an illustration of the prints, with a
description of what I conceive the comic and moral tendency of
each, there is the best information I could procure concerning the
relative circumstances, occasionally interspersed with such desultory
conversation as frequently occurred in turning over a volume of his
prints. Though the notes may not always have an immediate relation to
the engravings, I hope they will seldom be found wholly unconnected
with the subjects.

Such mottoes as were engraven on the plates are inserted; but where
a print has been published without any inscription, I have either
selected or written one. Errors in either parody or verse with the
signature E, being written by the editor, are submitted to that
tribunal from whose candour he hopes pardon for every mistake or
inaccuracy which may be found in these volumes.




HOGARTH.




_ANECDOTES OF AN ARTIST._

  "By heaven, and not a master, taught."

[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF HOGARTH PAINTING THE COMIC MUSE.]

When Leonardo da Vinci lay upon his death-bed, Francis the First,
actuated by that instinctive reverence which great minds invariably
feel for each other, visited him in his chamber. An attendant
informing the painter that the king was come to inquire after
his health, he raised himself from the pillow, a lambent gleam
of gratitude for the honour lighted up his eyes, and he made an
effort to speak. The exertion was too much; he fell back; and
Francis stooping to support him, this great artist expired in his
arms. Affected with the awful catastrophe, the king heaved a sigh
of sympathetic sorrow, and left the bed-chamber in tears. He was
immediately surrounded by a crowd of those kind-hearted nobles who
delight in soothing the sorrows of a sovereign; and one of them
entreating him not to indulge his grief, added, as a consolatory
reflection, "Consider, sire, this man was but a painter." "I do,"
replied the monarch; "and I at the same time consider, that though,
as a king, I could make a thousand such as you, the Deity alone can
make such a painter as Leonardo da Vinci."

Shall I be permitted to adopt this remark, and, without any
diminution of the Italian's well-earned fame, assert that the eulogy
is equally appropriate to the Englishman whose name is at the head
of this chapter; for he was not the follower, but the leader of a
class, and became a painter from divine impulse rather than human
instruction.

The biographers who have written of artists, especially if the
hero of their history was of the Dutch school, generally began by
informing us that he received the rudiments of his art from the great
Van A--, who was a pupil of the divine Van B--, first the disciple,
and afterwards the rival, of the immortal and never enough to be
admired Vander C.

This _palette pedigree_ was not the boast of William Hogarth; he was
the pupil,--the disciple,--the worshipper of nature!

I do not learn that his family either obtained a grant of lands from
our first William, or _flourished_ before the Conquest; but from
Burn's History of Westmoreland, it appears that his grandfather was
an honest yeoman, the inhabitant of a small tenement in the vale
of Bampton, a village fifteen miles north of Kendal, and had three
sons. The eldest, in conformity to ancient custom, succeeded to
the _title_, _honour_, and _estate_ of his father, became a yeoman of
Bampton, and proprietor of the family freehold.

The second was not endowed with either land or beeves, but had in
their stead a large portion of broad humour and wild original genius.
Like his nephew, he grasped the whip of satire; and though his lash
was not twisted with much skill, nor brandished with much grace, it
was probably felt by those on whom his strokes were inflicted, more
than would one of the most exquisite workmanship.

He was the Shakspeare of his village, and his dramas were the delight
of the country; though, being written by an uneducated yeoman, it may
naturally be supposed they were sufficiently coarse. Mr. Nichols,
in his Anecdotes, tells us that he has seen a whole bundle of them,
and _want of grammar, metre, sense, and decency is their invariable
characteristic_. This may possibly be true, for in refinement
Westmoreland was many, many years behind the capital; and our
libraries contain _sundrie black-letter proofs_ that those _pithie_,
_pleasaunte_, and _merrie comedies_, which in the same century were
_enacted by the Kingis servantes_ with universal applause, had
similar _wants_; notwithstanding which, these unalloyed chronicles of
our ancestors' dulness are _now_ purchased at a price considerably
higher than virgin gold. Let it not from hence be imagined that
I mean to sanction one folly by the mention of another; but as
every human production is _relative_, if auld Hogarth, under the
circumstances he wrote, was the admiration of his neighbours, we
may fairly infer that his talents, properly cultivated, would, in
a more polished situation, have ensured him the admiration of his
contemporaries.[2]

Richard was the third son, and seems to have been intended for a
scholar,--the scholar of his family!--for he was educated at St.
Bees, in Westmoreland, and afterward kept a school in the same
county. Of learning he had a portion more than sufficient for his
office, for he wrote a Latin and English dictionary, which still
exists in MS., and one of his Latin letters, dated 1657, preserved
in the British Museum. However well he might be qualified for a
teacher, he had few pupils; and finding that his employment produced
neither honour nor profit, removed to London, and in Ship Court, Old
Bailey, renewed his profession.

It was fortunate for literature that Doctor Samuel Johnson was
not successful in an application for the place of a provincial
schoolmaster. It was fortunate for the arts that Richard Hogarth was
not able to establish a village school, in which situation he would
probably have qualified his son William for his successor; and those
talents which were calculated to instruct, astonish, and reform a
world, might have been wasted in teaching some half a hundred of the
young Westmoreland gentry to scan verses by their fingers, and call
English things by Latin names. The fates ordained otherwise; it was
his destiny to marry and reside in London, where were born unto him
one son and two daughters.

The girls had such instructions as qualified them to keep a shop;
and the son, who drew his first breath in this bustling world in the
year 1697, was author of the prints which, copied in little, form the
basis and give the value to these volumes.

Of his education we do not know much; but as his father appears to
have been a man of understanding, I suppose it was sufficient for the
situation in which he was intended to be placed. That it was not more
liberal, might arise from the old man finding erudition answer little
purpose to himself, and knowing that in a mechanic employment it is
rather a drawback than an assistance. Added to this, I believe young
Hogarth had not much bias _towards what has obtained the name_ of
learning. He must have been early attentive to the appearance of the
passions, and feeling a strong impulse to attempt their delineation,
left their names and derivations to the profound pedagogue, the
accurate grammarian, or more sage and solemn lexicographer. While
these labourers in the forest of science dug for the root, inquired
into the circulation of the sap, and planted brambles and birch round
the tree of knowledge, Hogarth had an higher aim,--an ambition to
display, in the true tints of nature, the rugged character of the
bark, the varied involutions of the branches, and the minute fibres
of the leaves.

The first notices of his prints were written in French, by a Swiss
named Rouquet, who in 1746 published "_Lettres de Monsieur * * à un
de ses Amis à Paris, pour lui expliquer les Estampes de Monsieur
Hogarth_."[3] This pamphlet describes the Harlot's and Rake's
Progress, Marriage à la Mode, and March to Finchley. In the remarks,
there is great reason to believe Rouquet was assisted by Hogarth, who
long afterwards expressed an intention of having them translated and
amplified. From such a junction, the reader will naturally expect
this book to contain more information than he will find.

The second publication was by the Reverend Doctor Trusler, and
extends farther than the preceding. It was begun immediately after
the artist's death, is baptized _Hogarth Moralized_, and interspersed
with seventy-eight engravings, printed on the same paper with the
letterpress. It contains two hundred pages, built upon Rouquet's
pamphlet, and the information he received from Mrs. Hogarth, who,
conceiving her property would be essentially injured by such a
publication, purchased the copyright. As the Doctor does not profess
_an intimate acquaintance_ with the arts, and confines himself to
_morality_!--I hope and believe my work will _not much_ clash with
his.

Of the artist and his prints, we had no regular narrative until the
appearance of Mr. Walpole's _Anecdotes of Painting_,--a work in which
refined taste and elegant diction gave rank and importance to a class
of men whose history, in the writings of preceding biographers,
exhibited little more than a catalogue of names, or a dry
uninteresting narrative of uninteresting events. To the pen of this
highly accomplished writer, William Hogarth owes a portion of his
deserved celebrity; for in near fifty pages devoted to his name, we
find the history of _a great man's excellencies and errors_ written
with the warmth of a friend and the fidelity of a chronologist.
With the first tolerably complete catalogue of his works, there was
such remarks upon their meaning and tendency, as have given the
artist a new character; for though his superlative merit secured him
admiration from the few who were able to judge, he was considered by
the crowd as a mere _caricaturist_, whose only aim was to burlesque
whatever he represented.

The Reverend Mr. Gilpin, in his valuable Essay on Prints, has
made some observations on one series by Hogarth. The remarks were
evidently written in haste; and though in a few instances I cannot
coincide with a gentleman for whose worth and talents I have the most
unfeigned respect, I am convinced that the candour of the Vicar of
Boldre will forgive the freedom taken with the critic on the _Rake's
Progress_.

In 1781, Mr. Nichols published his _Anecdotes_, which since that
time have been considerably enlarged. This work contains much useful
information relative to the artist; and much monumental miscellany
from the Grub Street Journal, and other ancient sources, concerning
his contemporaries, that were it not there enniched, would in all
probability have sunk in dark and endless night. Where Mr. Walpole
and preceding writers threw a hair-line, he cast the _antiquarian
drag-net_, and brought from the great deep a miraculous draught
of aquatic monsters and web-footed animals, that swam round the
triumphal bark of William Hogarth. For the information which I
received from his volume, he has my best thanks; where I depart from
his authorities, it is on the presumption that my own are better.
In many cases, it is more than possible both of us are frequently
mistaken.

In this I believe we agree,--_that young Hogarth had an early
predilection for the arts_, and his future acquirements give us
a right to suppose he must have studied the _curious sculptures_
which adorned his father's _spelling books_, though he neglected
the letterpress; and when he ought to have been storing his memory
with the eight parts of speech, was examining the _allegorical
apple-tree_ which decorates the grammar. These _first lines_ of
nature inclined his father to place him with an engraver; but workers
in copper were not numerous, neither did the demand for English
prints warrant a certainty of any additional number obtaining
constant employment. Engraving on plate seemed likely to afford a
more permanent subsistence, required some taste for drawing, and had
a remote alliance with the arts. These reasons being seconded by his
own inclination, our juvenile satirist was apprenticed to Mr. Ellis
Gamble, who kept a silversmith's shop in Cranbourn Alley, Leicester
Fields. This vendor of salvers and sauce-boats had in his own house
two or three _rare artisans_, whose employment was to engrave cyphers
and armorial symbols, not only on the articles their master sold,
but on any that he might have to mark from _cunning workmen_, in
silver or meaner metals. In this branch he covenanted to instruct
William Hogarth, who about the year 1712 became a practical student
in Mr. Gamble's _Attic Academy_. In this _school of science_,
we may fairly conjecture his first essays were the initials on
tea-spoons; he would next be taught the _art_ and _mystery_ of the
double cypher, where four letters in opposite directions are so
skilfully interwoven, that it requires almost an apprenticeship to
learn the art of deciphering them. Having conquered his alphabet,
he ascended to the representation of those heraldic monsters which
first grinned upon the shields of the holy army of crusaders, and
were from thence transferred to the massy tankards and ponderous
two-handled cups of their stately descendants. By copying this legion
of _hydras, gorgons, and chimeras dire_, he attained an early taste
for the ridiculous; and in the grotesque countenance of a baboon or
a bear, the cunning eye of a fox, or the fierce front of a rampant
lion, traced the characteristic varieties of the human physiognomy.
He soon felt that _the science which appertaineth unto the bearing of
coat armour_ was not suited to his taste or talents; and tired of the
amphibious many-coloured brood that people the fields of heraldry,
listened to the voice of Genius, which whispered him _to read the
mind's construction in the face_,--to study and delineate MAN.

As the first token of his turn for the _satirical_, it may be
worth recording, that while yet an apprentice, when upon a sultry
Sunday he once made an excursion to Highgate, two or three of his
companions and himself sought shelter and refreshment in one
of those convenient _caravanserais_ which so much abound in the
vicinity of the metropolis. In the same room were a party of thirsty
pedestrians, washing down the dust they had inhaled in their walk,
with _London porter_. Two of the company debating upon politics, and
the palm of victory being, at the moment Hogarth and his companions
entered, adjudged to the taller man, he very vociferously exulted
in his conquest, and added some sarcastic remarks on the diminutive
appearance of his adversary. The _little_ man had _a great soul_, and
having in his right hand a pewter pot, threw it with fatal force at
his opponent: it struck him in the forehead,--and

                          "As the mountain oak
      Nods to the axe, till with a groaning sound
      It sinks, and spreads its honours on the ground,"--

he sunk to the floor, and there,--as the divine Ossian would have
sublimely expressed it,--_The grey mist swam before his eyes. He lay
in the hall of mirth as a mountain pine, when it tumbles across the
rushy Loda.--He recovered; lifted up his bleeding head, and rolled
his full-orbed eyes around. He ascended as a pillar of smoke streaked
with fire, and streams of blood ran down his dark brown cheeks, like
torrents from the summit of an oozy rock, etc. etc._

To descend from the _pinnacle of Parnassus_ to the _plain of common
sense_,--the fellow being deeply, though not dangerously, wounded
in the forehead, extreme agony excited a most hideous grin. His
_woe-begone_ figure, opposed to the pert triumphant air of his tiny
conqueror, and the half suppressed laugh of his surrounding friends,
presented a scene too ridiculous to be resisted. The young tyro
seized his pencil, drew his first group of portraits from the life,
and gave, with a strong resemblance of each, such a grotesque variety
of character as evades all description.

When we consider this little sketch was his _coup d'essai_, the loss
of it is much to be regretted.

He probably made many others during his apprenticeship. When that
expired, bidding adieu to _red lions_ and _green dragons_, he
endeavoured to attain such knowledge of drawing as would enable
him to delineate the human figure, and transfer his _burin_ from
silver to copperplate. In this attempt he had to encounter many
difficulties; engraving on copper was so different an art from
engraving on silver, that it was necessary he should _un_learn much
which he had already learned; and at twenty years of age, habits are
too deeply rooted to be easily eradicated; so that he never attained
the power of describing that clear, beautiful stroke which was then
given by some foreign artists, and has since been brought, I believe,
to its utmost perfection by Sir Robert Strange.

In his first efforts he had little more assistance than could
be acquired by casual communications, or imitating the works of
others;[4] those of Callot were probably his first models; and
shop-bills and book-plates his first performances. Some of these,
with impressions from tankards and tea-tables which escaped the
crucible, have, by the laudable industry of collectors, been
preserved to the present day. How far they add to the artist's fame,
or are really of the value at which they are sometimes purchased, is
a question of too high import for me to decide. By the connoisseur
it is asserted, that the earliest productions of a great painter
ought to be preserved, for they soar superior to the mature labours
of plodding dulness, and though but seeds of that genius intended by
nature to tower above its contemporaries, invariably exhibit _clear
marks of mind_; as every variety in the branches of a strong-ribbed
oak is, by the aid of a microscope, discoverable in the acorn.

By the opposite party it is urged, that collecting these _blotted
leaves of fancy_, is burying a man of talents in the ruins of his
_baby-house_; and that for the honour of his name, and _repose of his
soul_, they ought to be consigned to the flames, rather than pasted
in the _portfolio_.

I must candidly acknowledge, that for trifles by the hand of Hogarth
or Mortimer, I have a kind of religious veneration; but, like the
rebuses and riddles of Swift, they are still trifles, and except
when considered as tracing the progress of the mind from infancy
to manhood, are not entitled to much attention. If examined with
this regard, especial care should be taken that their names are not
dishonoured by the unmeaning and contemptible productions of inferior
artists, some of whose prints have found a place in the catalogue of
Hogarth's works. Mr. Nichols properly questions the plate of _Æneas
in a Storm_: he might safely put the same query to _Riche's Triumphal
Entry into Covent Garden_, and a few other plates, which some of the
collectors have _very positively_ asserted to be his. The _Jack in
Office_ and _Pug the Painter_, I believe, belong to other collectors.
That _the design for General Wolfe's monument_ should ever be
supposed the work of Hogarth, has often astonished me. I do not see
the most distant resemblance of his manner, in mind, conception,
design, or execution.

Many stories, similar to those which are told of the manner that
other painters revenged an insult, or supplied the exigencies of the
moment, are related of young Hogarth. If true, these volumes would
gain little interest by their insertion, for few of them are worthy
of a memorial; and if false, they ought not to be admitted.

That a young artist, just emancipated from the obscurity of a
silversmith's garret, should be unknown, we naturally suppose;
that talents, however exalted, should not be noticed by the public
until the professor gave some proofs of superiority, may be readily
credited.

That a youth of volatile dispositions, who had neither inheritance
nor protection, must frequently want money, follows as certainly as
night to day; and we place full confidence in the assertion, when
told that he has frequently said, "I remember the time when I have
gone moping into the city with scarce a shilling in my pocket; but
having received ten guineas there for a plate, returned home, put on
my sword and bag, and sallied out again, with all the confidence of a
man who had ten thousand pounds in his pocket."

I can believe that the elder Mr. Bowles was his first patron; but
when Mr. Nichols informs us, on the authority of Doctor Ducarrel,
that this _patron_ offered the young engraver half-a-crown a pound
for a plate just finished, rejoice that the inauspicious period when
such talents had such patronage[5] is past.

Mr. Horace Walpole well observes, that the history of an artist must
be sought in his works. The earliest date I have seen on any of
Hogarth's engravings is his own shop-bill, bordered with two figures
and two Cupids, and inscribed April 20, 1720. From this and similar
mechanic blazonry, he ascended to prints for books, in the execution
of which it was not necessary to have much knowledge of the arts. If
they were _copperplates_, the public were satisfied; neither spirit
of design, accuracy of drawing, nor delicacy of stroke were demanded.
Six engravings, containing six compartments each, for King's _History
of the Heathen Gods_, I should apprehend were among the earliest. I
have heard them doubted, and they are not mentioned in either Mr.
Walpole's or Mr. Nichols' list; but I believe them to be as certainly
Hogarth's as the Rake's Progress.

In two emblematical prints on the lottery, and the South Sea Bubble,
published in 1721, there is not much merit; and in the fifteen for
Aubrey de la Mottraye's Travels, dated 1723, we only regret that so
much time and copper should be wasted.

The _Burlington Gate_, which appeared in 1724, is in a very superior
style, and in the spirit of Callot. With some very well pointed
satire on the general passion for masquerades, and other ridiculous
_raree-shows_, it unites a burlesque of Kent the architect, who
upon the pediment of his patron's gate is exalted above Raphael and
Michael Angelo. From this circumstance I think it probable that
the print was engraved as a sort of admission ticket to Sir James
Thornhill's academy, which was opened that year. The knight would
unquestionably be gratified by this ridicule of his rival, and might
in consequence admit the young artist to such a degree of intimacy
as enabled him to gain the heart and hand of Miss Thornhill. The
burlesque copy of Kent's altar-piece at St. Clement's Church was
published in 1725; and fifteen headpieces for Bever's Military
Punishments in the same year.[6]

By seventeen small plates, with a head of the author for Butler's
_Hudibras_, printed in 1726, he first became known in his profession.
In design, these are almost direct copies from a series inserted in
a small edition of the same book, published sixteen years before.
Whether this originated in a wish to save himself the trouble of
making original designs, or in the twenty booksellers for whom this
edition was published, is not easy to determine. These _midwives
to the Muses_ might think he was upon safer ground while copying
the designs of an artist sanctioned by public approbation, than
in following _his own inventions_, and in this opinion our young
engraver might possibly join. Taking these circumstances into the
account, I do not agree with Mr. Walpole, when he observes that _we
are surprised to find so little humour in an undertaking so congenial
to his talents_. If these prints are considered as copies, they ought
not to be produced as a criterion; if compared with those from which
they are taken, it is not easy to conceive a greater superiority than
he has attained over his originals. Neatness was not required; and
for such subjects I prefer the spirited etchings of a Hogarth to the
most delicate finishing of a Bartolozzi.

Copies of them are inserted in Grey's Hudibras, published 1744, and
Townley's French translation, printed _à Londres_, 1757. In Grey's
edition, the head of Butler is not copied from Hogarth, who certainly
had for his pattern White's mezzotint of John Baptist Monoyer the
flower painter, from Sir Godfrey Kneller: to any portrait that I have
ever seen of Samuel Butler, it has not the faintest resemblance; and
how the artist came to give it that name, it is difficult to guess.[7]

The large series on that subject were published the same year, and
are thus entitled: _Twelve excellent and most diverting prints
taken from the celebrated poem of Hudibras, written by Mr. Samuel
Butler, exposing the villany and hypocrisy of the times, invented
and engraved on twelve copperplates, by William Hogarth, and are
humbly dedicated to William Ward, Esq. of Great Houghton, in
Northamptonshire, and Mr. Allan Ramsay of Edinburgh._[8]

      "What excellence can brass or marble claim!
      These papers better do secure thy fame:
      Thy verse all monuments does far surpass;
      No mausoleum's like thy Hudibras."

Allan Ramsay subscribed for thirty sets. The number of subscribers in
all, amounts to 192.

The late Mr. Walker of Queen Anne Street had a sketch of Hudibras and
Ralpho, painted by Isaac Fuller, very much in the manner of Hogarth,
who I think must have seen, and, in the early part of his life,
studied Fuller's pictures.

Seven of the drawings were in the possession of the late Mr. Samuel
Ireland, three are in Holland, and two are said to have been in the
collection of a person in one of the northern provinces about twenty
years ago, but are now probably destroyed. Thus are the works of
genius scattered like the _Sibyl's leaves_.

Hogarth seems to have been particularly partial to this subject; for,
previous to engraving the twelve large plates, he painted it in oil.
The twelve original pictures, somewhat larger than the prints, are in
the possession of the editor of these volumes.

The variety with which the characteristic distinctions of the figures
are marked, the firm and spirited touch with which each of the
characters are pencilled, is peculiar to this artist: they come into
that class of pictures, which to those who have not seen them cannot
be described; to those who have, a description is unnecessary.

In a masquerade ticket, published 1727, he has a second time
introduced John James Heidegger, of ill-favoured memory.
Notwithstanding Lord Chesterfield's wager, that this _Surintendant
des plaisirs d'Angleterre_ did not produce a man with so hideous a
countenance as his own, and Pope having honoured him with a place in
his Dunciad, when describing

                  "A monster of a fowl,
      Something between a _Heidegger_ and owl,"

and his ugliness being in a degree proverbial, an engraving of his
face from a mask, taken after his death, and inserted in Lavater's
Physiognomy, has strong marks of a benevolent character, and features
by no means displeasing or disagreeable.

The print of our _decollating_ Harry and Anna Boleyne, is engraved
from a painting once in Vauxhall Gardens.[9] Whatever might be the
picture, the print is in every point of view contemptible. His
frontispieces to Apuleius and Cassandra, Perseus and Andromeda, John
Gulliver, and the Highland Fair, come in precisely the same class.
Those to _Terræ Filius_, the Humours of Oxford, and Tom Thumb, have
some traces of comedy.

Various temporary satires on the local follies and vices of the day,
which he engraved about this time, are enumerated by Mr. Walpole and
Mr. Nichols, but have not in general much merit. The compliments he
paid to Sir James Thornhill, by ridiculing William Kent, have been
noticed in the preceding pages; but Hogarth's partiality was not
confined to the knight, he extended it to the knight's daughter,
and finding _favour in her sight_,--without the formal ceremony of
asking consent, or the tedious process of a settlement,--_took her
to wife_. This union being neither sanctioned by her father,[10]
nor accompanied with a fortune, compelled him to redouble his
professional exertions.

His first large print was Southwark Fair, a natural and highly
ludicrous representation of the plebeian amusements of that period;
but by the Harlot's Progress, he in 1734 established his character
as a painter of domestic history. When his wife's father saw the
designs, their originality of idea, regularity of narration, and
fidelity of scenery, convinced him that such talents would force
themselves into notice, and when known, must be distinguished and
patronized. Among a great number of copies which the success of these
prints tempted obscure artists to make, there was one set printed on
two large sheets of paper, for G. King, Brownlow Street, which, being
made with the author's consent, may possibly contain some additions
suggested and inserted by Hogarth's directions. In Plate I., beneath
the sign of the Bell, PARSONS INTIER BUTT BEAR. In Plate II., to the
picture of Jonah under a gourd, a label, _Jonah, why art thou angry?_
and under one of the portraits is written, Mr. Woolston. Below each
scene, an inscription describes, in true _beaux' spelling_; the
meaning of the prints, and points out two of the characters to be
Colonel Charteris and Sir John Gonson. To the strong resemblance the
latter of these delineations bore to the original, Mr. Hogarth is
said to be indebted for much of his popularity. The magistrate being
universally known, a striking portrait _in little_ would then, as
now, have a more numerous band of admirers than the best conceived
moral satire.

In 1735, when he published his Rake's Progress with a view of
_stranding the pirates of the arts_, he solicited and obtained
an Act to vest an exclusive right in designers and engravers, and
restrain the multiplying copies of their works without their consent.

Like many other _Acts of Parliament_, it was inaccurately worded, and
very inadequate to the evil it professed to cure; for Lord Hardwicke
determined that no assignee, claiming under an assignment from the
original inventor, could receive advantage from it: though after
Hogarth's death, the Legislature, by Stat. 7th, Geo. III., granted
to his widow a further term of twenty years in the property of her
husband's works.

In 1736, at the particular desire of a nobleman, whose name deserves
no commemoration, he engraved two prints, entitled _Before_ and
_After_. There are few examples of this artist making designs from
the thoughts of others. The Sleeping Congregation, Distressed Poet,
Enraged Musician, Strolling Actresses, Modern Midnight Conversation,
and many genuine comedies of a new description, where the humour of
five acts is brought into one scene, were the productions of his own
mind. From these and other mirrors of the times, he was considered
as an original author; and being now in the plenitude of his
fame,--conceiving himself established in reputation, and conscious of
being first in his peculiar walk,--he, on the 25th of Jan. 1744-5,
printed proposals, offering the paintings of his Harlot's and Rake's
Progress, Four Times of the Day, and Strolling Actresses, to public
sale, by an auction of a most singular nature.

"I. Every bidder shall have an entire leaf numbered in the book of
sale, on the top of which will be entered his name and place of
abode, the sum paid by him, the time when, and for which picture.

"II. That on the last day of sale, a clock (striking every five
minutes) shall be placed in the room; and when it hath struck five
minutes after twelve, the first picture mentioned in the sale book
will be deemed as sold; the second picture, when the clock hath
struck the next five minutes after twelve; and so on successively
till the whole nineteen pictures are sold.

"III. That none advance less than gold at each bidding.

"IV. No person to bid on the last day, except those whose names were
before entered in the book. As Mr. Hogarth's room is but small, he
begs the favour that no person, except those whose names are entered
in the book, will come to view his paintings on the last day of sale."

A method so novel possibly disgusted the town: they might not exactly
understand this tedious formulæ of entering their names and places of
abode in a book open to indiscriminate inspection; they might wish
to humble an artist, who, by his proposals, seemed to consider that
he did the world a favour in suffering them to bid for his works; or
the _rage_ for paintings might be confined to the admirers of _old
masters_. Be that as it may, for his nineteen pictures he received
only four hundred and twenty-seven pounds seven shillings,--a price
by no means equal to their merit.[11]

The _prints_ of the Harlot's Progress had sold much better than
those of the Rake's; yet the _paintings_ of the former produced
only fourteen guineas each, while those of the latter were
sold for twenty-two! That admirable picture, _Morning_, twenty
guineas,--_Night_, in every point inferior to almost any of his
works, six-and-twenty!

As a ticket of admission to this sale, he engraved the annexed plate.




_THE BATTLE OF THE PICTURES._

      "In curious paintings I'm exceeding nice,
      And know their several beauties by their price;
      Auctions and sales I constantly attend,
      But choose my pictures by a skilful friend.
      Originals and copies, much the same;
      The picture's value is the painter's name."

[Illustration: BATTLE OF PICTURES.]

In one corner of this very ludicrous print he has represented an
auction-room, on the top of which is a weathercock, in allusion
perhaps to Cock the auctioneer. Instead of the four initials for
North, East, West, and South, we have P, U, F, S, which, with
a little allowance for bad spelling, must pass for _Puffs_! At
the door stands a porter, who from the length of his staff may be
high-constable of the old school, and gentleman-usher to the modern
connoisseurs. As an attractive show-board, we have an high-finished
Flemish head, in one of those ponderous carved and gilt frames, that
give the _miniatures_ inserted in them the appearance of a glow-worm
in a gravel pit. A catalogue and a carpet (properly enough called
the _flags of distress_) are _now_ the signs of a sale; but _here_,
at the end of a long pole, we have an unfurled standard, emblazoned
with that _oracular talisman_ of an auction-room, the _fate-deciding
hammer_. Beneath is a picture of St. Andrew on the cross, with an
immense number of _fac-similes_, each inscribed _ditto_. _Apollo_,
who is flaying _Marsyas_, has no mark of a deity, except the rays
which beam from his head; he is placed under a projecting branch,
and we may truly say the tree shadows what it ought to support. The
coolness of poor Marsyas is perfectly philosophical; he endures
torture with the apathy of a Stoic. The third tier is made up by a
herd of Jupiters and Europas, of which _interesting_ subject, as
well as the foregoing, there are _dittos_, _ad infinitum_. These
invaluable _tableaux_ being unquestionably painted by the great
Italian masters, is a proof of their unremitting industry;--their
labours evade calculation; for had they acquired the _polygraphic_
art of striking off pictures with the facility that printers roll
off copperplates, and each of them attained the age of Methusaleth,
they could not have painted _all_ that are exhibited under their
names. Nothing is therefore left us to suppose, but that _some of
these undoubted originals_ were painted by their disciples.[12]
Such are the _collections_ of _fac-similes_; the other pictures are
drawn up in battle array; we will begin with that of _St. Francis_,
the corner of which is in a most unpropitious way driven through
Hogarth's _Morning_. The third painting of the Harlot's Progress
suffers equal degradation from a weeping Madonna, while the splendid
saloon of the repentant pair in Marriage à la Mode is broken by the
Aldobrandini Marriage. Thus far is rather in favour of the ancients;
but the aerial combat has a different termination: for, by the
riotous scene in the Rake's Progress, a hole is made in Titian's
Feast of Olympus; and a Bacchanalian, by Rubens, shares the same fate
from the Modern Midnight Conversation. Considered as so much reduced,
the figures are etched with great spirit, and have strong character.

In ridicule of the preference given to old pictures, he exercised not
only his pencil, but his pen. His advertisement for the sale of the
paintings of Marriage à la Mode, inserted in a Daily Advertiser of
1750, thus concludes:

"As, according to the standard so righteously and laudably
established by picture-dealers, picture-cleaners, picture-frame
makers (and other connoisseurs), the works of a painter are to be
esteemed more or less valuable as they are more or less scarce, and
as the living painter is most of all affected by the inferences
resulting from this and other considerations equally candid and
edifying, Mr. Hogarth by way of precaution, not puff, begs leave to
urge that probably this will be the last sale of pictures he may
ever exhibit, because of the difficulty of vending such a number
at once to any tolerable advantage; and that the whole number he
has already exhibited of the historical or humorous kind does not
exceed fifty, of which the three sets called the Harlot's Progress,
the Rake's Progress, and that now to be sold, make twenty: so that
whoever has a taste of his own to rely on, and is not too squeamish,
and has courage enough to own it, by daring to give them a place in
a collection till Time (the supposed finisher, but real destroyer of
paintings) has rendered them fit for those more sacred repositories
where schools, names, heads, masters, etc., attain their last stage
of preferment, may from hence be convinced that multiplicity, at
least, of his, Mr. Hogarth's pieces, will be no diminution of their
value."[14]

In the same year with the Battle of the Pictures he etched the
subscription-ticket for Garrick in Richard III.; where, in a festoon
with a mask, a roll of paper, a palette, and a laurel, he combines
the drama and the arts.

Soon after the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle he visited France. A people
so different from any he had before seen, and manners so inimical to
his own, greatly disgusted him. Ignorance of the language, added
to some unpleasant circumstances that had their rise in his own
imprudence, form a slight apology for these prejudices; he _told them
to the world_ in a view of the Gates of Calais, under which article
I have inserted a cantata written by his friend Forest. The portrait
in a cap, with a palette, on which is the waving _line of beauty and
grace_, he this year engraved from his own painting. Beneath the
frame are three books, labelled, Shakspeare, Milton, Swift; and on
one side his faithful and favourite dog Trump. As Hogarth afterwards
erased _the human face divine_, and inserted the _divine_ Churchill
in the character of a bear, the print is become very scarce; a small
copy adorns the title-page to this volume. Some despicable rhymes on
the dog and painter were published in the Scandalizade. Thus do the
lines conclude:

      "The very self same,--how boldly they strike!
      And I can't forbear thinking they're somewhat alike.
      Oh fie! to a dog would you Hogarth compare?
      Not so,--I say only, they're like as it were;
      A respectable pair, all spectators allow,
      And that they deserve a description below,
      In capital letters, BEHOLD WE ARE TWO."

Those who are personally acquainted with Hogarth deem this print a
strong likeness: the picture is remarkably well painted, better than
any I have seen from his pencil, except the head of Captain Coram,
now in the _Foundling Hospital_. To that charity Hogarth and several
contemporary painters presented some of their performances. The
attention they obtained from the public induced the members of an
academy in St. Martin's Lane to attempt an extension of the plan.
With this view, a letter was printed, and sent to the different
artists. As it was the cornerstone of that stupendous structure, now
become a Royal Academy, I have inserted a copy, with which I was
favoured by the gentleman to whom it is addressed.

  "TO MR. PAUL SANDBY.

  "_Academy of Painting, Sculpture, etc.,
  St. Martin's Lane, Tuesday, October the 23d, 1753._

  "SIR,--There is a scheme set on foot for erecting a public
  academy for the improvement of the arts of painting, sculpture,
  and architecture; and as it is thought necessary to have a
  certain number of professors, with proper authority, in order
  to the making regulations, taking in subscriptions, erecting
  a building, instructing the students, and concerning all such
  measures as shall be afterwards thought necessary, your company
  is desired at the Turk's Head, in Greek Street, Soho, on Tuesday
  the 13th of November, at five o'clock in the evening precisely,
  to proceed to the election of thirteen painters, three sculptors,
  one chaser, two engravers, and two architects; in all twenty-one,
  for the purposes aforesaid.--I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

  "FRANCIS MILNER NEWTON, _Sec._

  "_P.S._--Please to bring the enclosed list, marked with a cross
  before the names of thirteen painters, three sculptors, one
  chaser, two engravers, and two architects, as shall appear to you
  the most able artists in their several professions, and in all
  other respects the most proper for conducting this design. If
  you cannot attend, it is expected that you will send your list,
  sealed and enclosed in a cover, directed to me, and write your
  name in the cover, without which no regard will be paid to it.

  "The list in that case will be immediately taken out of the
  cover, and mixed with the other lists, so that it shall not be
  known from whom it came; all imaginable methods being concerted
  for carrying on this election without favour or partiality.
  If you know any artist of sufficient merit to be elected a
  professor, who has been overlooked in drawing out the list,
  be pleased to write his name, according to his place in the
  alphabet, with a cross before it."

Their measures did not meet the approbation of Mr. Hogarth. He
thought that the establishment of an academy would attract a crowd
of young men to neglect studies better suited to their powers, and
depart from more profitable pursuits: that every boy who could chalk
a straight-lined figure upon a wall, would be led, by his mamma
discovering that it was _prodigious natural!_ to mistake inclination
for ability, and suppose himself born for _shining in the fine
arts_!--that the streets would be crowded by lads with palettes and
portfolios, print-shops be as numerous as porter-houses, and finally,
that which ought to be considered as a science, become a trade; and
what was still worse, a trade which would not support its professors.

In near fifty years, that have _sunk like a sunbeam in the sea_,
the arts have assumed a new face; they at this period form a very
profitable branch of our commerce, and his prophecy pertaining unto
print-shops is partly fulfilled.

It has been before observed that Mr. Hogarth, in his own portrait,
engraved as a frontispiece to his works, drew a serpentine line on a
painter's palette, and denominated it--_The line of beauty_.

In the preface to his Analysis, he thus describes the consequence of
this denomination:--

"The bait soon took, and no Egyptian hieroglyphic ever amused more
than it did for a time; painters and sculptors came to me to know the
meaning of it, being as much puzzled with it as other people, till it
came to have some explanation. Then indeed, but not till then, some
found it out to be an old acquaintance of theirs; though the account
they gave of its properties was very near as satisfactory as that
which a day-labourer, who occasionally uses the lever, could give of
that machine as a mechanical power.

"Others, as common face-painters, and copiers of pictures, denied
that there could be such a rule either in art or nature, and
asserted it was all stuff and madness; but no wonder that these
gentlemen should not be ready in comprehending a thing they have
little or no business with. For though the picture-copier may
sometimes, to a common eye, seem to vie with the original he copies,
the artist himself requires no more ability, genius, or knowledge
of nature, than a _journeyman weaver_ at the _Gobelins_, who in
working after a piece of painting, bit by bit, scarcely knows what
he is about; whether he is weaving a man or a horse; yet at last,
almost insensibly, turns out of his loom a fine piece of tapestry,
representing, it may be, one of Alexander's battles painted by Le
Brun.

"As the above-mentioned print thus involved me in frequent disputes,
by explaining the qualities of the line, I was extremely glad to
find it (which I had conceived as only part of a system in my own
mind) so well supported by a precept of Michael Angelo, which was
first pointed out to me by Dr. Kennedy, a learned antiquarian and
connoisseur, of whom I afterwards purchased the translation, from
which I have taken several passages to my purpose."[15]

To explain this system, he in 1753 commenced author, and published
his Analysis, the professed purpose of which was to fix the
fluctuating ideas of _taste_, by establishing a standard of beauty.
This he expected would be considered by his contemporaries, as the
ancients considered the little soldier modelled by Policletus, the
grammar of proportion, criterion of elegance, and rule of perfection.
It must be acknowledged that this was expecting somewhat more than
his system deserved; but he received much less. Sheets of good
copper were defaced to prove, in the first place, that _there was
no such line_, and in the next, that _he had stolen it from the
ancients_. Some called it the line of deformity, and others the line
of drunkenness. By a lady he was more flattered: she told him it was
precisely the line which the sun makes in his annual motion round
the ecliptic.

His book is divided into chapters, treating of _fitness_, _variety_,
_symmetry_, _simplicity_, _intricacy_, _quantity_, _lines_, _forms_,
_composition with the waving line_, _proportion_, _light and
shade_, _colouring_, _attitude_, _and action_. The hypothesis which
he endeavours to establish is illustrated by near three hundred
explanatory figures, with references to each.




_ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY._


PLATE I.

      "So vary'd he, and of his tortuous train
      Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,
      To lure her eye."

      --MILTON.

[Illustration: ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY, PLATE I.]

If the figures which compose this plate are considered independent
of the volume, they will appear sufficiently incongruous. He has
given us curves and curvatures, straight lines and angles, circles
and squares. He has ransacked the garden for examples, and drawn from
the shops of the blacksmith, founder, and cabinetmaker, illustrations
of his doctrine. To the beauteous and elegant Grecian Venus,[16]
he has opposed the venerable English judge, arrayed in an ample
robe, with his head enveloped in a periwig like the mane of a lion.
The naked majesty of the Apollo Python is contrasted with an English
actor, dressed by a modern tailor and barber, to personate a Roman
general. The elegant winding lines of an Egyptian sphynx are opposed
by a bloated, overcharged, recumbent Silenus. The uniform, coldly
correct figures of Albert Durer's drawing-book, that never deviate
into grace, to the antique _torso_, in which Michael Angelo asserted
he discovered every principle that gave so grand a _gusto_ to his own
works. Three anatomical representations of the muscles which appear
in a human leg when the skin is taken off, are placed close to a
shapeless pedestal in a shoe and stocking, which by disease has, in
the painter's phrase, _lost its drawing_.

A fine wire, properly twisted round the figure of a cone, represented
in Number 26, as giving that elegant wave which adds grace to beauty,
is the leading principle on which he builds his system of serpentine
lines. Of this ancient _grace_, opposed to modern _air_, he could
not have selected better examples than Numbers 6 and 7, where Mr.
Essex, an English dancing-master, places himself in such an attitude
as he thinks the sculptor ought to have given the Antinous, who he is
ludicrously enough handing out to dance a minuet.

Number 19 represents the _deep-mouth'd Quin!_ dressed in all the
dignity of a playhouse wardrobe, to perform the part of Brutus. That
this (and not Coriolanus) is the character meant by the artist, I am
inclined to think, from the statue of Julius Cæsar, with a rope round
his neck, immediately before him.[17] The rope is passed through a
pulley, inserted in one of those triple supporters of great weights,
which some of our provincial carpenters call a gallows, and passes to
upright beams intersected by poles, in the front of a monument, on
which is seated a judge, over whose head is another noosed pulley.
How far this may hint at any connection between the _law_ and the
_rope_ I cannot determine; but a weeping naked boy, who is seated
below, has in his hand what may pass for the model of a gibbet as
well as a square. Over the judge's head is written, BIT DECEM. 1752,
ÆTATIS; the O preceding BIT is covered: I apprehend the same judge
may be found in a print of THE BENCH.

A _new order_ was Hogarth's favourite idea: he has here made an
attempt at a capital composed of hats and periwigs.[18] _An infant
with a man's wig and cap on_, is a miniature representation of Mr.
Quin's Roman general; and a monkey child, led by a travelling tutor,
gives the painter's opinion of those young gentlemen who visited
Rome for improvement in _connoisseurship_.[19] It is copied from a
burlesque of Cav. Ghezzi, etched by Mr. Pond.


PLATE II.

      "Though rosy youth embloom the sprightly fair,
      And beauty mold her with a lover's care,
      If motion to the form denies a grace,
      Vain is the beauty that adorns the face."

[Illustration: ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY, PLATE. II.]

The fatigued figures that labour through this dance, Mr. Hogarth in
his 16th chapter thus explains:


OF ATTITUDE.

"Such dispositions of the body and limbs as appear most graceful when
seen at rest, depend upon gentle winding contrasts, mostly governed
by the precise serpentine line, which in attitudes of authority are
more extended and spreading than ordinary, but reduced somewhat below
the medium of grace in those of negligence and ease; and as much
exaggerated in insolent and proud carriage, or distortions of pain
(see Number 9, in PLATE I.), as lessened and contracted into plain
and parallel lines, to express meanness, awkwardness, and submission.

"The general idea of an action, as well as of an attitude, may be
given with a pencil in very few lines. It is easy to conceive that
the attitude of a person upon the cross may be fully signified by
the true straight lines of the cross; so the extended manner of St.
Andrew's crucifixion is wholly understood by the X-like cross.

"Thus, as two or three lines at first are sufficient to show the
intention of an attitude, I will take this opportunity of presenting
my reader with the sketch of a country-dance, in the manner I began
to set out the design. In order to show how few lines are necessary
to express the first thoughts, as to different attitudes, see
Number 71 (top of the plate), which describes in some measure the
several figures and actions, mostly of the ridiculous kind, that are
represented in the chief part of Plate II.

"The most amiable person may deform his general appearance by
throwing his body and limbs into plain lines; but such lines appear
still in a more disagreeable light in people of a particular make. I
have therefore chose such figures as I thought would agree best with
my first score of lines, Number 71.

"The two parts of curves next to 71, served for the figures of the
old woman and her partner, at the farther end of the room. The curve,
and two straight lines at right angles, gave the hint for the fat
man's sprawling posture. I next resolved to keep a figure within
the bounds of a circle, which produced the upper part of the fat
woman, between the fat man and the awkward one in the bag-wig, for
whom I had made a sort of an X. The prim lady his partner, in the
riding habit, by pecking back her elbows, as they call it, from the
waist upwards, made a tolerable D, with a straight line under it, to
signify the scanty stiffness of her petticoat; and the Z stood for
the angular position the body makes with the legs and thighs of the
affected fellow in the tie-wig; the upper part of his plump partner
was confined to an O, and this changed into a P, served as a hint
for the straight lines behind. The uniform diamond of a card was
filled up by the flying dress, etc. of the little capering figure
in the Spencer wig, whilst a double L marked the parallel position
of his poking partner's hands and arms: and lastly, the two waving
lines were drawn for the more genteel turns of the two figures at the
hither end."[20]

Such is the author's alphabetical analysis of his serpentine system,
which some of my readers may possibly think borders on the visionary:
certain it is, that however he may have failed in his two specimens
of grace, those of awkwardness are carried as far as they could have
been in a Russian dance, when Peter the Great ordained that no lady
of any age should presume to get drunk before nine o'clock.

I have seen the print framed as a companion to Guido's _Aurora_;
nothing surely can form a stronger contrast to the golden age, when

                      "Universal Pan,
      Knit with the Graces and the Hours, in dance
      Led on th' eternal Spring."

They are said to represent the _Wanstead assembly_, and contain
portraits of the first Earl Tylney, his Countess, their children,
tenants, etc. In the tall young lady he has evidently aimed at
Milton's description of motion--_smooth sliding without step_; but
her _air_ is affected. Her noble partner was originally intended for
a portrait of the present King, then Prince of Wales; and though I
learn from Mr. Walpole that it was afterward altered to the first
Duke of Kingston, still retains so much of its original designation
as to bear a resemblance.

The design was made about the year 1728, and might be a just
representation of the Wanstead belles and beaux; but since that
period we have had so many ship-loads of _grace_ imported from the
Continent, and such numbers of _well-educated gentlemen_,[21] who
have exerted their talents in perfecting this _divine art_, that the
picture would not do for the present day.

The _sighing_ Celadon, privately delivering a letter _fraught with
love_ to his fair Amelia, is evidently the native of a country that
has furnished many of our English heiresses with _good_ husbands.
Her impatient father's watch is precisely twelve, which determines
what were then thought late hours, on so particular an occasion as
a wedding-ball, the sketch being originally designed for a series
illustrative of _a happy marriage_.[22]

Hogarth is said to have boasted that each of the hats which lie upon
the floor are so characteristic of their respective proprietors, that
any man who understood the form of the human _caput_ might assign
each to its owner. Among them is a cushion, which was formerly part
of the ball-room furniture, for what was called _the cushion-dance_,
in the progress of which the gentleman kneels down and salutes his
partner.

The light diffused from the chandelier shows an attention to nature
worthy the study and imitation of many modern painters, whose figures
are illuminated by _beams unaccountable_!

Thus much may suffice for the prints; as to the book, a pen was not
Hogarth's instrument. His life had been devoted to the study of the
pencil; and however clear in idea, he felt the consciousness that
his language might be rendered more worthy public attention by the
advice and assistance of literary friends. This he acknowledges, in
the style of a man who felt that his character did not depend on the
power of constructing a sentence, in which branch of the work he was
aided by Doctor Hoadley, Doctor Morrell, and his friend the Reverend
Mr. Townley,[23] whose son told me, that when his father corrected
the first sheet, he found a _plentiful crop of errors_; the second
and third were less incorrect; and the fourth much more accurate than
the preceding. Such is the power of genius, whatever its direction.

I will not go so far as Mr. Ralph, who says, "that by means of this
volume composition is become a science; the student knows what he is
in search of, the connoisseur what to praise, and fancy or fashion,
or prescription, will usurp the hackneyed name of taste no more;
because I think with Lady Luxborough, that in the line of beauty
no man can literally fix _the precise degree of obliquity_;" but I
think with the same lady, "that between his pencil and his pen, he
conveys an idea which enables one to conceive his meaning," and that
he gives many hints which may be of great use to the artist, actor,
dancer, or connoisseur.[24]

Though many profitable opportunities were offered by the politics of
the day, it does not appear that Hogarth ever degraded his character
by either servile adulation or interested abuse of _the powers which
were_.

In an account of the March to Finchley, it will be found that when
the print was presented to George II., the king returned it in a
way that must have mortified and wounded the artist, who, though he
was tremblingly alive to professional indignity, made no _graven
retaliation_. He could not therefore be considered as an opponent it
was proper to silence, or as an advocate it was necessary to retain;
notwithstanding which, on the 16th of July 1757, when Mr. Thornhill
(son to Sir James) resigned his place of sergeant painter, William
Hogarth was appointed his successor; and very soon after, engaged in
a _pencil competition_ that did not terminate to his advantage.

I have had frequent occasion to mention the opinion he entertained
of _ancient paintings_. By ridiculing copies and contemptible
originals, he got a habit of laughing at them all; and when, in 1758,
Sir Thomas Sebright, at Sir Luke Schaub's sale, gave £404, 5s. for
Correggio's Sigismunda,[25] Hogarth, _in evil hour_, asserted that,
were he paid as good a price, he could paint a better picture. Sir
Richard (afterwards Lord) Grosvenor unluckily gave him an order for
the same subject, _guarded with the qualifying monosyllable_ IF.
The work was finished,--sent to the purchaser,--and returned to the
artist,--_because_,--as the ironical epistle[26] which accompanied
it expressed,--"_Contemplating such a subject must excite melancholy
ideas, which a curtain being drawn before it would not diminish._"[27]

This rejection produced a letter from Hogarth to a friend, relating
the whole transaction, in rhymes that might perhaps give our painter
a niche amongst the minor poets; but which, having neither the
harmony of Pope nor the ardour of Dryden, shall find no place here.
The prophecy it concludes with has not been absolutely fulfilled, but
in the form of a _wish_ may be a suitable motto for the next print.




_SIGISMUNDA._

                  "Let the picture rust;
      Perhaps Time's price-enhancing dust,
      As statues moulder into earth,
      When I'm no more, may mark its worth;
      And future connoisseurs may rise,
      Honest as ours, and full as wise,
      To puff the piece, and painter too,
      And make me _then_ what Guido's _now_."

      --_Hogarth's Epistle._

[Illustration: SIGISMUNDA.]

A competition with either Guido or Furino would to any modern painter
be _an enterprise of danger_: to Hogarth it was more peculiarly so,
from the public justly conceiving that the representation of elevated
distress was not his _forte_, and his being surrounded by an _host of
foes_, who either dreaded satire or envied genius. The connoisseurs
considering the challenge as too insolent to be forgiven,--_before
his picture appeared_, determined to decry it. The painters rejoiced
in his attempting what was likely to end in disgrace; and to satisfy
those who had formed their ideas of Sigismunda upon the inspired page
of Dryden, was no easy task.

The bard has consecrated the character, and his heroine glitters with
a brightness that cannot be transferred to the canvas. Mr. Walpole's
description, though equally radiant, is too _various_ for the utmost
powers of the pencil.

Hogarth's Sigismunda, as this gentleman poetically expresses it,
"_has none of the sober grief, no dignity of suppressed anguish,
no involuntary tear, no settled meditation on the fate she meant
to meet, no amorous warmth turned holy by despair; in short, all
is wanting that should have been there, all is there that such a
story would have banished from a mind capable of conceiving such
complicated woe; woe so sternly felt, and yet so tenderly_." This
glowing picture presents to the mind a being whose contending
passions may be felt, but were not delineated even by Correggio. Had
his tints been aided by the grace and greatness of Raphael, they must
have failed.

The author of the _Mysterious Mother_ sought for sublimity, where the
artist strictly copied nature, which was invariably his archetype,
but which the painter, who soars into _fancy's fairy regions_,
must in a degree desert. Considered with this reference, though
the picture has faults, Mr. Walpole's satire is surely too severe.
It is built upon a comparison with works painted in a language
of which Hogarth knew not the idiom,--trying him before a tribunal
whose authority he did not acknowledge; and from the picture having
been in many respects altered after the critic saw it, some of the
remarks become unfair. To the frequency of these alterations we may
attribute many of the errors:[28] the man who has not confidence in
his own knowledge of the leading principles on which his work ought
to be built, will not render it perfect by following the advice of
his friends. Though Messrs. Wilkes and Churchill dragged his heroine
to the altar of politics, and mangled her with a barbarity that can
hardly be paralleled, except in the history of her husband,--the
artist retained his partiality, which seems to have increased
in exact proportion to _their_ abuse. The picture being thus
contemplated through the medium of party prejudice, we cannot wonder
that all its imperfections were exaggerated. The _painted harlot_ of
Babylon had not more opprobrious epithets from the _first race_ of
reformers, than the _painted_ Sigismunda of Hogarth from the _last
race_ of patriots.[30]

When a favourite child is chastised by his preceptor, a partial
mother redoubles her caresses. Hogarth, estimating this picture by
the labour he had bestowed upon it, _was certain_ that the public
were prejudiced, and requested, if his wife survived him, she would
not sell it for less than five hundred pounds. Mrs. Hogarth acted
in conformity to his wishes; but after her death, the painting
was purchased by Messrs. Boydell, and exhibited in the Shakspeare
Gallery. The colouring, though not brilliant, is harmonious and
natural: the attitude, drawing, etc., may be generally conceived
by the print engraved by Mr. Benjamin Smith. I am much inclined to
think, that if some of those who have been most severe in their
censures, had consulted their own feelings, instead of depending upon
connoisseurs, poor Sigismunda would have been in higher estimation.
It has been said that the first sketch was made from Mrs. Hogarth, at
the time she was weeping over the _corse_ of her mother.

Hogarth once intended to have appealed from the critics' fiat to
the world's opinion, and employed Mr. Basire to make an engraving,
which was begun, but set aside for some other work, and never
completed.[31]




TIME SMOKING A PICTURE.

      "To nature and yourself appeal,
      Nor learn of others what to feel."--_Anon._

[Illustration: TIME SMOKING A PICTURE.]

This animated satire was etched as a receipt-ticket for a print of
Sigismunda. It represents _Time_, seated upon a mutilated statue, and
smoking a landscape, through which he has driven his scythe, to give
proof of its antiquity,--not only by _sober, sombre_ tints, but by an
injured canvas. Beneath the easel on which it is fixed the artist has
placed a capacious jar, on which is written VARNISH,--to _bring out_
the beauties of this inestimable assemblage of straight lines. The
frame is dignified with a Greek motto:

  _Crates_,--Ὁ γὰρ χρόνος μ' ἔκαμψε, τέκτων μὲν σοφὸς,
                  Ἅπαντα δ' ἐργαζόμενος ἀσθενέστερα.

  See _Spectator_, vol. ii. p. 83.

This, though not engraved with precise accuracy, is sufficiently
descriptive of the figure.

_Time has bent me double; and Time, though I confess he is a great
artist, weakens all he touches._

"From a contempt" (says Mr. Walpole) "of the ignorant virtuosi
of the age, and from indignation at the impudent tricks of
picture-dealers,[32] whom he saw continually recommending and vending
vile copies to bubble-collectors, and from having never studied,
indeed having seen few good pictures of the great Italian masters, he
persuaded himself that the praises bestowed on those glorious works
were nothing but the effects of prejudice. He talked this language
till he believed it; and having heard it often asserted, as is true,
that Time gives a mellowness to colours, and improves them, he not
only denied the proposition, but maintained that pictures only grew
black and worse by age, not distinguishing between the degrees in
which the proposition might be true or false."

Whether Mr. Walpole's remarks are right or wrong, Hogarth has
admirably illustrated his own doctrine, and added to his burlesque,
by introducing the fragments of a statue, below which is written,

      As statues moulder into worth. P. W.

By part of this print being in _mezzotinto_ and the remainder etched,
it has a singularly striking and spirited appearance.

Hogarth, the following year, published that admirable satire, _The
Medley_, which completely refutes the reproach thrown on his
_declining talents_ by his political opponents, whose violent, and in
some respects vindictive attack, is erroneously said to have hastened
his death. That he was _wounded_ with a barbed spear, hurled by the
hand of a friend, it is reasonable to suppose; but armed with the
_mailed coat_ of conscious superiority, he could not be _wounded
mortally_. What!--_broken-hearted by a rhyme!_--_pelted to death
with ballads!_--He was too proud! I am told by those who knew him
best, that the little mortification he felt, did not arise from the
severity of the satire, but from a recollection of the terms on which
he had lived with the satirist.

To the painter's recriminations in this party jar, Mr. Nichols I
suppose alludes, page 97 of his Anecdotes, where he says, that
"_in his political conduct and attachments, Hogarth was at once
unprincipled and variable_." These are harsh and heavy charges, but
I am to learn on what they are founded. He never embarked with any
party, nor did he publish a political print before the year 1762; and
the principles he there professes he retained until his death.

In the same page of the Anecdotes, I find, after a complimentary
quotation from one of Mr. Hayley's poems, several severe strictures
to which I cannot assent.[33] The assertion, that _all his powers of
delighting were confined to his pencil_, is in a degree refuted by
the Analysis. That _he was rarely admitted into polite circles_, I
can readily believe; but if by _polite circles_, Mr. Nichols means
those persons of honour who deem _dress_ the grand criterion of
distinction, think making _an easy bow_ the first human acquirement,
and Lord Chesterfield's code _the whole duty of man_,--the artist
had no great cause to regret the loss of such society. But _his
sharp corners not being rubbed off_ by collision with these polite
circles, he was, _to the last, a gross, uncultivated man_. Engaged in
ascertaining the principles of his art, he had not leisure to study
the _principles of politeness_; but by those who lived with him in
habits of intimacy, I am told he was by no means gross.

"_To be member of a club consisting of mechanics, or those not many
degrees above them, seems to have been the utmost of his social
ambition._"--Yet we find in the list of his social companions,
Fielding, Hoadley, Garrick, Townley, and many other names who were
an honour to their age and country. Though excluded from _polite
circles_, by these and such men he was received as a friend. Some of
his evenings were probably passed among his neighbours, and being
above dissimulation, I suppose he resented what he disliked, and
was, as Mr. Nichols informs us, often _sent to Coventry_. "_He is
said to have beheld the rising eminence and popularity of Sir Joshua
Reynolds with a degree of envy; and, if I am not misinformed, spoke
with asperity both of him and his performances._" It has been said,
and I believe with equal truth, that Rubens _envied_ the rising
eminence and popularity of Vandyke: neither the Englishman nor the
Fleming were capable of so mean a passion. The walk of William
Hogarth was diametrically opposite to that of Sir Joshua Reynolds.
They saw nature through a different medium: one of them almost
invariably dignifies his characters; whilst the other, from the
nature of his subjects, sinks, and in some measure degrades them.
The man whose portrait is painted by the President feels exalted;
whilst he who looks in the mirror displayed by Hogarth, finds a
resemblance better calculated to gratify his _good-natured friends_
than himself. These circumstances considered, I can conceive Hogarth
might have been pleased if he could have united the elegance of Sir
Joshua to his own humour, and that the knight might be proud of
adding the powers of Hogarth to his own taste, without either of them
possessing a particle of the diabolical passion alluded to by Mr.
Nichols, who thus winds up the character: "_Justice, however, obliges
me to add, that our artist was liberal, hospitable, and the most
punctual of paymasters._" This is fair and unequivocal praise,--but
justice obliges _me_ to add, seems given _upon compulsion_. _Why_
the biographer feels so much reluctance at being _thus obliged_ to
commend the hero of his own history, we are not told,--though the
cause of a lady being most _indecently caricatured_, is, in the same
book, frankly acknowledged.

"_She is still living, and has been loud in abuse of this work,
a circumstance to which she owes a niche in it!_"--Nichols'
_Anecdotes_, p. 114.

Hogarth, with all the indelicacy of which he is accused, would have
blushed at the perusal of this overcharged character. Though _nothing
fastidious_, I cannot quote so disgusting a combination of abominable
images. In page 59 we are presented with a series equally delectable.

Mr. Walpole remarks that the Flemish painters, as writers of farce
and editors of burlesque nature, are the _Tom Brownes_ of the mob;
and in their attempts at humour, when they intend to make us laugh,
make us sick; that Hogarth resembles Butler,--amidst all his
pleasantry, observes the true end of comedy, REFORMATION, and has
always a moral. To prove this truth, is one great object of these
volumes. But Mr. Nichols, thinking it necessary to _examine whether
the scenes painted by our countryman are wholly free from Flemish
indelicacies_, has with laudable industry culled some sixteen or
eighteen _delicious_ examples, to convince us that they are not. _I
omit the catalogue_; yet let me be permitted to suggest, that without
the aid of _a commentary_, these indelicacies are not generally
obtrusive. I once knew a very grave and profound critic, who employed
several years of his life in collecting all Shakspeare's _double
entendres_; these he intended for _publication_, to _prove_ that
his plays were not fit for the _public_ eye, but was prevented, by
a friend suggesting that it would be thought he had acted like the
birds--_pecked at that fruit which he liked best_.

Leaving these and all other indecencies to the contemplation of those
_who seek for them_, let us return to our narrative.

Finding his health in a declining state, Hogarth had some years
before purchased a small house at Chiswick.[34] To this he retired
during the summer months, but so active a mind could never _rust
in idleness_;--even there he pursued his profession, and employed
the last years of his life in retouching and superintending some
repairs and alterations in his plates. From this place he, on the
25th October 1764, returned to Leicester Square, and though weak and
languid, retained his usual flow of spirits; but being on the same
night taken suddenly ill, died of an _aneurism_, in the arms of his
friend Mrs. Lewis, who was called up to his assistance.

      "The hand of him here torpid lies,
        That drew th' essential form of grace;
      Here cloath'd in death th' attentive eyes,
        That saw the manners in the face."[35]

His will, which bears date August 16, 1764, has the following
bequests:--

  "I do hereby release, and acquit, and discharge my sister Ann
  Hogarth, of and from all claims and demands which I have on her
  at the time of my decease on any account whatsoever; and I do
  hereby give and bequeath unto my said sister Ann, eighty pounds
  a year, to be paid her during her natural life, by my executrix
  hereinafter named, out of the profits which shall arise from
  the sale of the prints taken from my engraved copperplates;
  which yearly payment shall commence within three months after
  my decease, and be paid in quarterly payments: and my will
  is, that the said copperplates shall not be sold or disposed
  of without the consent of my said sister, and my executrix
  hereinafter named; but the same shall remain in the custody or
  possession of my executrix hereinafter named, for and during her
  natural life, if she continues sole and unmarried; and from and
  immediately after her marriage, my will is that the three sets of
  copperplates, called Marriage à la Mode, the Harlot's Progress,
  and the Rake's Progress, shall be delivered to my said sister, by
  my said executrix, during her natural life; and immediately after
  the decease of my said executrix, the said copperplates, and the
  whole profits arising from such prints as aforesaid, shall be and
  of right belong to my said sister; and in case my executrix shall
  survive my sister, the same shall in like manner become the sole
  property, and of right belong to my said executrix hereinafter
  named: and I hereby give and bequeath unto Mary Lewis, for her
  faithful services, one hundred pounds, to be paid her immediately
  after my decease by my executrix hereinafter named: and my
  will is, that Samuel Martin, Esq., of Abingdon Buildings, be
  requested to accept of the portrait which I painted of him for
  myself. _Item_, that a ring, value ten guineas, be presented to
  Doctor Isaac Schomberg, in remembrance of me. _Item_, that Miss
  Julian Bence be presented with a ring, value five guineas: and my
  will is, that the remainder of my money, securities for money,
  and debts due to me, shall of right belong to my said executrix
  hereinafter named; and all my other goods, pictures, chattels,
  and estates, real or personal whatsoever, I do give and bequeath
  the same and every part thereof unto my dear wife Jane Hogarth,
  whom I do ordain, constitute, and appoint my sole executrix of my
  will. And I do hereby revoke all the other wills by me made at
  any time. In witness thereof, I do hereunto set my hand and seal,
  this day, August 16th, 1764.

  "WILLIAM HOGARTH (L.S.).

  "Signed, sealed, and published, and delivered by William Hogarth,
  to be his last will and testament, in the presence of us, who in
  the presence of each other have subscribed our names as witness
  thereto.--_Richard Loveday_, _George Ellsom_, _Mary Graham_."

His remains were removed to Chiswick, where, on a plain but neat
pyramidical monument, are the following inscriptions:--

On the first side is engraven:

  "HERE LIETH THE BODY
  OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, ESQ.,
  WHO DIED OCTOBER 26, 1764,
  AGED 67 YEARS.

  MRS. JANE HOGARTH,
  WIFE OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, ESQ.
  OBIT 13 NOVEMBER 1789,
  ÆTAT: 80 YEARS."

On the second:

  "HERE LIETH THE BODY OF
  DAME JUDITH THORNHILL,
  RELICT OF SIR JAMES THORNHILL, KNIGHT,
  OF THORNHILL, IN THE COUNTY OF DORSET:
  SHE DIED NOV. 12, 1757,
  AGED 84 YEARS."

On a third:

  "HERE LIETH THE BODY OF MRS. ANNE HOGARTH,
  SISTER TO WILLIAM HOGARTH, ESQ.
  SHE DIED AUGUST 13, 1771,
  AGED 70 YEARS."

On the front, in _basso-relievo_, is the comic mask, laurel wreath,
rest-stick, palette, pencils, a book inscribed _Analysis of Beauty_,
and the following admirable lines by his friend Mr. Garrick:--

      "Farewell, great painter of mankind,
        Who reached the noblest point of art;
      Whose pictured morals charm the mind,
        And through the eye correct the heart.
      If genius fire thee, reader, stay;
        If Nature touch thee, drop a tear:
      If neither move thee, turn away,
        For Hogarth's honoured dust lies here."[36]

_Time_ will obliterate this inscription, and even the pyramid must
crumble into dust; but his fame is engraven on tablets which shall
have longer duration than monumental marble.

During the twenty-five years which his widow survived, the plates
were neither repaired nor altered,[37] but being necessarily
entrusted to the management of others, were often both negligently
and improperly taken off.[38] On Mrs. Hogarth's demise, in 1789, she
bequeathed her property as follows:--

  "_Imprimis_, I give and devise unto my cousin Mary Lewis, now
  living with me, all that my copyhold estate, lying and being at
  Chiswick, in the county of Middlesex, to have and to hold, during
  the term of her natural life; and after her decease, I give and
  devise the said copyhold estate unto Richard Loveday, surgeon,
  of Hammersmith, to have and to hold during his natural life;
  and after his decease, to his son Francis James Loveday, to him
  and his heirs for ever. _Item_, I give and bequeath unto the
  said Mary Lewis all my personal estate, of what kind soever, the
  legacies hereinafter mentioned excepted. _Item_, I give unto my
  god-daughter Jane Amelia Loveday, the sum of one hundred pounds.
  And I do make, constitute, and appoint my said cousin Mary Lewis,
  my sole executrix of this my last will and testament, written
  with my own hand, this third day of August, in the year of our
  Lord, 1770. In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and
  seal.

  "JANE HOGARTH (L.S.).


  "Witnesses--_Michael Impey_, _Jane Sarah Home_.

  "This stock of £479, 10s. 3d. I give to M. Lewis; and to Charles
  Stilewell, if he is with me at the time of my death, twenty
  pounds.--May the 17th, 1789.

  "JANE HOGARTH."


Mrs. Lewis, soon after the death of her friend, on condition of
receiving an annuity for life, transferred to Messrs. Boydell her
right in all the plates; and since in their possession, they have
not been touched upon by a _burin_. It may be proper to add, that
every plate has been carefully cleaned; and the rolling-presses now
in use being on an improved principle, the paper superior, and the
art of printing better understood, impressions are more clearly and
accurately taken off than they have been at any preceding period.

Thus much may suffice for the state of his plates: their general
intention and execution is the proper basis on which to build his


CHARACTER.

Were it considered by a connoisseur, he would probably assert
that this man could not be a painter, for he had never travelled
to Rome; could not be a judge of art, for he spoke irreverently
of the ancients; gave his figures neither dignity nor grace; was
erroneous in his distribution of light and shade, and inattentive to
the painter's balance; that his grouping was inartificial, and his
engraving coarse.

To traverse continents in search of antique paintings, explore
caverns for mutilated sculpture, and measure the proportions of a
statue with mathematical precision, was not the boast of William
Hogarth. The _Temple of Nature_ was his academy, and his topography
the map of the human mind. Disdaining to copy or translate, he left
the superior class of beings that people the canvas of Poussin and
Michael Angelo to their admirers; selected his images from his
own country, and gave them with a truth, energy, and variety of
character,[39] ever appropriate, and invariably original. Considering
his peculiar powers, it is fortunate for his fame that he was a
native of Britain. In Switzerland, the scenery is romantic,--the
rocks are stupendous; in Italy, the models of art are elevated and
majestic,--the ruins of ancient Greece still continue a school of
architecture and proportion;--but in England, and in England alone,
we have every variety of character that separates man from man. To
these he resorted, and rarely attempted to _heighten nature_, either
by ideal or elevated beauty; for though he had the eye, he had not
the wing of an eagle; when he attempted to soar, particles of his
native clay clung to his pinions, and retarded his flight.

His engravings, though coarse, are forcible in a degree scarcely to
be paralleled. Every figure is drawn from the quarry of nature; and,
though seldom polished, is always animated.

He has been accused of grossness in some of his single figures: but
the general vein of his wit is better calculated to make the man of
humour smile than the humourist laugh;--has the air of Cervantes
rather than Rabelais,--of Fielding rather than Smollett.

I do not know in what class to place his pictured stories. They are
too much crowded with little incidents for the dignity of history;
for tragedy, are too comic; yet have a termination which forbids us
to call them comedies. Being selected from life, they present to
us the absurdities, crimes, punishments, and vicissitudes of man:
to-day, basking in the bright beams of prosperity; to-morrow, sunk
in the gloom of comfortless despair. Be it recorded to his honour,
that their invariable tendency is the promotion of virtue, and the
diffusion of such a spirit as tends to make men industrious, humane,
and happy. If some of the incidents are thought too ludicrous, and
a few of the scenes rather border on the licentious, let it be
remembered, that since they were engraved the _standard of delicacy_
has been somewhat altered: that species of wit which this sentimental
and _double-refined_ age deems too much debased for common currency,
was then, with a still larger portion of alloy, the sterling coin of
the kingdom.

On canvas he was not so successful as on copper. Scripture history,
which was one of his first attempts,[40] did not add a leaf to his
laurel. In small portraits of conversations, etc., he was somewhat
more successful; but in a few years the novelty wore off, and the
public grew tired. Though he had great facility[41] and general
success in his resemblances, his eye was too correct and his hand
too faithful for those who wished to be flattered. The fantastic
fluttering robes, given by contemporary painters, were too absurd
for him to imitate; and he painted all his figures in the exact
habits they wore. Compared with the dignified dresses of Vandyke, the
Germanic garb, which then prevailed, gave a mean and unpicturesque
formality to his portraits.

With respect to his person, though hardly to be classed as a little
man, Hogarth was rather below the middle size; he had an eye
peculiarly bright and piercing, and an air of spirit and vivacity.
From an accident in his youth, he had a deep scar on his forehead:
the mark remained; and he frequently wore his hat so as to display
it. His conversation was lively and cheerful,[42] mixed with a
quickness of retort that did not gain him friends. Severe in his
satire on those who were present, but of the absent he was usually
the advocate;[43] and has sometimes boasted that he never uttered
a sentence concerning any man living, that he would not repeat to
his face. In the relations of husband, brother, friend, and master,
he was kind, generous, sincere, and indulgent. In diet abstemious;
but in his hospitalities, though devoid of ostentation, liberal and
free-hearted. Not parsimonious, yet frugal;--but so comparatively
small were the rewards then paid to artists, that, after the labour
of a long life, he left a very inconsiderable sum to his widow, with
whom he must have received a large portion of what was bequeathed
to her.[44] His character, and the illustrations I have attempted,
are built upon a diligent examination of his prints: if in any case
it should be thought that they have biassed my judgment, I can truly
say that they have informed it. From them I have learnt much which I
should not otherwise have known, and to inspecting them I owe many
very happy hours. Considering their originality, variety, and truth,
if we take from the artist all that he _is said_ to have wanted, he
will have more left than has been often the portion of man.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




HOGARTH ILLUSTRATED.




THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.


PLATE I.

      "The snares are set, the plot is laid,
      Ruin awaits thee, hapless maid!
      Seduction sly assails thine ear,
      And gloating, foul desire is near;
      Baneful and blighting are their smiles,
      Destruction waits upon their wiles:
      Alas! thy guardian angel sleeps,
      Vice clasps her hands, and virtue weeps."--E.

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE I.]

The general aim of historical painters has been to emblazon some
signal exploit of an exalted and distinguished character. To go
through a series of actions, and conduct their hero from the cradle
to the grave, to give a history upon canvas, and tell a story with
the pencil, few of them attempted. Mr. Hogarth saw with the intuitive
eye of genius, that one path to the temple of Fame was yet untrodden:
he took Nature for his guide, and gained the summit. He was the
painter of nature; for he gave not merely the ground-plan of the
countenance, but marked the features with every impulse of the mind.
He may be denominated the biographical dramatist of domestic life.
Leaving those heroic monarchs who have blazed through their day with
the destructive brilliancy of a comet to their adulatory historians,
he, like Lillo, has taken his scenes from humble life, and rendered
them a source of entertainment, instruction, and morality.

This series of prints gives the history of a Prostitute. The story
commences with her arrival in London, where, initiated in the
school of profligacy, she experiences the miseries consequent to
her situation, and dies in the morning of life. Her variety of
wretchedness forms such a picture of the way in which vice rewards
her votaries, as ought to warn the young and inexperienced from
entering this path of infamy. The first scene of this domestic
tragedy is laid at the Bell Inn, in Wood Street, and the heroine
may possibly be daughter to the poor old clergyman who is reading
the direction of a letter close to the York waggon, from which
vehicle she has just alighted. In attire, neat, plain, unadorned;
in demeanour, artless, modest, diffident; in the bloom of youth,
and more distinguished by native innocence than elegant symmetry;
her conscious blush and downcast eyes attract the attention of a
female fiend who panders to the vices of the opulent and libidinous.
Coming out of the door of the inn we discover two men, one of
whom is eagerly gloating on the devoted victim. This is a portrait,
and said to be a strong resemblance of Colonel Francis Chartres,[45]
whose epitaph was written by Doctor Arbuthnot: in that epitaph his
character is most emphatically described.[46]

The old procuress, immediately after the girl's alighting from the
waggon, addresses her with the familiarity of a friend rather than
the reserve of one who is to be her mistress.

Had her father been versed in even the first rudiments of
physiognomy, he would have prevented her engaging with one of
so decided an aspect; for this also is the portrait of a woman
infamous in her day:[47] but he, good, easy man, unsuspicious as
Fielding's Parson Adams, is wholly engrossed in the contemplation
of a superscription to a letter addressed to the bishop of the
diocese. So important an object prevents his attending to his
daughter, or regarding the devastation occasioned by his gaunt and
hungry Rozinante having snatched at the straw that packs up some
earthenware, and produced

      "The wreck of flower-pots, and the crash of pans!"

From the inn she is taken to the house of the procuress, divested
of her home-spun garb, dressed in the gayest style of the day, and
the tender native hue of her complexion encrusted with paint and
disguised by patches. She is then introduced to Colonel Chartres,
and by artful flattery and liberal promises becomes intoxicated with
the dreams of imaginary greatness. A short time convinces her of how
light a breath these promises were composed. Deserted by her keeper,
and terrified by threats of an immediate arrest for the pompous
paraphernalia of prostitution, after being a short time protected by
one of the tribe of Levi, she is reduced to the hard necessity of
wandering the streets for that precarious subsistence which flows
from the drunken rake or profligate debauchee. Here her situation
is truly pitiable! Chilled by nipping frost and midnight dew, the
repentant tear trickling on her heaving bosom, she endeavours to
drown reflection in draughts of destructive poison. This, added to
the contagious company of women of her own description, vitiates her
mind, eradicates the native seeds of virtue, destroys that elegant
and fascinating simplicity which gives additional charms to beauty,
and leaves in its place art, affectation, and impudence.

Neither the painter of a sublime picture nor the writer of an heroic
poem should introduce any trivial circumstances that are likely to
draw the attention from the principal figures. Such compositions
should form one great whole: minute detail will inevitably weaken
their effect. But in little stories which record the domestic
incidents of familiar life, these accessory accompaniments, though
trifling in themselves, acquire a consequence from their situation;
they add to the interest, and realize the scene. In this, as in
almost all that were delineated by Mr. Hogarth, we see a close regard
paid to things as they then were; by which means his prints become a
sort of historical record of the manners of the age.

The balcony, with linen hanging to dry; the York waggon, which
intimates the county that gave birth to our young adventurer; parcels
lying on the ground, and a goose, directed _To my lofen coosin in
Tems Stret London_, prove the peculiar attention he paid to the
_minutiæ_. The initials M. H. on one of the trunks give us the name
of the heroine of this drama,--Hackabout was a character then well
known, and infamous for her licentiousness and debauchery.[48]

Of elegant beauty Mr. Hogarth had not much idea; but he has marked
his heroine with natural simplicity. To the old procuress he has
given her physiognomical distinction, and to the Colonel his
appropriate stamp.[49]


PLATE II.

      "Ah! why so vain, though blooming in thy spring;
      Thou shining, frail, adorn'd, but wretched thing!
      Old age will come; disease may come before,
      And twenty prove as fatal as threescore!"

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE II.]

Entered into the path of infamy, the next scene exhibits our young
heroine the mistress of a rich Jew, attended by a black boy,[50]
and surrounded with the pompous parade of tasteless profusion. Her
mind being now as depraved as her person is decorated, she keeps
up the spirit of her character by extravagance and inconstancy. An
example of the first is exhibited in the monkey being suffered to
drag her rich head-dress round the room, and of the second in the
retiring gallant. The Hebrew is represented at breakfast with his
mistress; but having come earlier than was expected, the favourite
has not departed. To secure his retreat, is an exercise for the
invention of both mistress and maid. This is accomplished by the lady
finding a pretence for quarrelling with the Jew, kicking down the
tea-table, and scalding his legs, which, added to the noise of the
china, so far engrosses his attention, that the paramour, assisted by
the servant, escapes discovery.

The subjects of two pictures with which the room is decorated are,
David dancing before the ark, and Jonah seated under a gourd.[51]
They are placed there, not merely as circumstances which belong to
Jewish story, but as a piece of covert ridicule on the old masters,
who generally painted from the ideas of others, and repeated the same
tale _ad infinitum_. On the toilet-table we discover a mask, which
well enough intimates where she had passed part of the preceding
night, and that masquerades, then a very fashionable amusement, were
much frequented by women of this description; a sufficient reason for
their being avoided by those of an opposite character.

Under the protection of this disciple of Moses she could not remain
long. Riches were his only attraction, and though profusely lavished
on this unworthy object, her attachment was not to be obtained, nor
could her constancy be secured; repeated acts of infidelity are
punished by dismission; and her next situation shows that, like most
of the sisterhood, she had lived without apprehension of the sunshine
of life being darkened by the passing cloud, and made no provision
for the hour of adversity.

In this print the characters are marked with a master's hand.
The insolent air of the harlot, the astonishment of the Jew,[52]
eagerly grasping at the falling table, the start of the black boy,
the cautious trip of the _ungartered_ and _barefooted_ retreating
gallant, and the sudden spring of the scalded monkey, are admirably
expressed. To represent an object in its descent has been said to be
impossible: the attempt has seldom succeeded; but in this print, the
tea equipage really appears falling to the floor.[53]


PLATE III.

      "Reproach, scorn, infamy, and hate,
      On all thy future steps shall wait;
      Thy form be loathed by every eye,
      And every foot thy presence fly."

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE III.]

We here see this child of misfortune fallen from her high estate! Her
magnificent apartment is quitted for a dreary lodging in the purlieus
of Drury Lane: she is at breakfast, and every object exhibits marks
of the most wretched penury; her silver tea-kettle is changed for
a tin-pot, and her highly-decorated toilet gives place to an old
leaf-table, strewed with the relics of the last night's revel, and
ornamented with a broken looking-glass. Around the room are scattered
tobacco-pipes, gin measures, and pewter pots,--emblems of the habits
of life into which she is initiated, and the company which she now
keeps: this is further intimated by the wig-box of James Dalton, a
notorious street-robber, who was afterwards executed. In her hand
she displays a watch, which might be either presented to her, or
stolen from her last night's gallant. By the nostrums which ornament
the broken window, we see that poverty is not her only evil. The
dreary and comfortless appearance of every object in this wretched
receptacle, the bit of butter on a piece of paper,[54] the candle
in a bottle, the basin upon a chair, the punch-bowl and comb upon
the table, and the tobacco-pipes, etc. strewed upon the unswept
floor, give an admirable picture of the style in which this pride
of Drury Lane ate her matin meal. The pictures which ornament the
room are, Abraham offering up Isaac, and a portrait of the Virgin
Mary; Dr. Sacheverell[55] and Macheath the highwayman are companion
prints. There is some whimsicality in placing the two ladies under
a canopy,[56] formed by the unnailed valance of the bed, and
characteristically crowned by the wig-box of a highwayman.

A magistrate,[57] cautiously entering the room with his attendant
constables, commits her to an house of correction, where our
legislators wisely suppose, that being confined to the improving
conversation of her associates in vice, must have a powerful tendency
towards the reformation of her manners!


PLATE IV.

      "With pallid cheek and haggard eye,
      And loud laments, and heartfelt sigh,
      Unpitied, hopeless of relief,
      She drinks the bitter cup of grief.
      In vain the sigh, in vain the tear,
      Compassion never enters here;
      But justice clanks her iron chain,
      And calls forth shame, remorse, and pain."--E.

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE IV.]

The situation in which the last plate exhibited our wretched female
was sufficiently degrading, but in this her misery is greatly
aggravated. We now see her suffering the chastisement due to her
follies; reduced to the wretched alternative of beating hemp,
or receiving the correction of a savage taskmaster.[58] Exposed
to the derision of all around, even her own servant, who is well
acquainted with the rules of the place, appears little disposed to
show any return of gratitude for recent obligations, though even
her shoes, which she displays while tying up her garter, seem by
their gaudy outside to have been a present from her mistress. The
civil discipline of the stern keeper has all the severity of the
old school.[59] With the true spirit of tyranny, he sentences those
who will not labour to the whipping post, to a kind of picketing
suspension by the wrists, or having a heavy log fastened to their
leg. With the last of these punishments he at this moment threatens
the heroine of our story; nor is it likely that his obduracy can
be softened except by a well-applied fee. How dreadful, how
mortifying the situation! These accumulated evils might perhaps
produce a momentary remorse, but a return to the path of virtue is
not so easy as a departure from it. The Magdalen hospital has been
since instituted, and the wandering female sometimes finds it an
asylum from wretchedness, and a refuge from the reproaches of the
world.

To show that neither the dread nor endurance of the severest
punishment will deter from the perpetration of crimes, a one-eyed
female, close to the keeper, is picking a pocket. The torn card may
probably be dropped by the well-dressed gamester, who has exchanged
the dice-box for the mallet, and whose laced hat is hung up as a
companion trophy to the hoop-petticoat.

One of the girls appears scarcely in her teens. To the disgrace of
our police, these unfortunate little wanderers are still suffered
to take their nocturnal rambles in the most public streets of the
metropolis. What heart so void of sensibility as not to heave a
pitying sigh at their deplorable situation? Vice is not confined to
colour, for a _black_ woman is ludicrously exhibited as suffering the
penalty of those frailties which are imagined peculiar to the _fair_.

The figure chalked as dangling upon the wall, with a pipe in his
mouth, is intended as a caricatured portrait of Sir John Gonson,
and probably the production of some _wou'd-be artist_ whom the
magistrate had committed to Bridewell as a proper _academy_ for the
pursuit of his studies. The inscription upon the pillory, BETTER TO
WORK THAN STAND THUS, and that on the whipping-post, near the laced
gambler, THE REWARD OF IDLENESS, are judiciously introduced.

In this print the composition is tolerably good: the figures in the
background, though properly subordinate, sufficiently marked; the
lassitude of the principal character well contrasted by the austerity
of the rigid overseer. There is a fine climax of female debasement,
from the gaudy heroine of our drama to her maid, and from thence to
the still lower object who is represented as _destroying_[60] one of
the plagues of Egypt.


PLATE V.

      "With keen remorse, deep sighs, and trembling fears,
      Repentant groans, and unavailing tears,
      This child of misery resigns her breath,
      And sinks, despondent, in the arms of death."--E.

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE V.]

Released from Bridewell, we now see this victim to her own
indiscretion breathe her last sad sigh, and expire in all
the extremity of penury and wretchedness. The two quacks, whose
injudicious treatment has probably accelerated her death, are
vociferously supporting the infallibility of their respective
medicines, and each charging the other with having poisoned her.[61]
While the maid-servant is entreating them to cease quarrelling, and
assist her dying mistress, the nurse plunders her trunk of the few
poor remains of former grandeur. Her little boy turning a scanty
remnant of meat hung to roast by a string; the linen hanging to
dry; the coals deposited in a corner; the candles, bellows, and
gridiron hung upon nails; the furniture of the room, and indeed every
accompaniment, exhibit a dreary display of poverty and wretchedness.
Over the candles hangs a cake of Jew's bread, once perhaps the
property of her Levitical lover, and now used as a fly-trap. The
initials of her name, M. H., are smoked upon the ceiling as a kind
of _memento mori_ to the next inhabitant. On the floor lies a paper
inscribed ANODYNE NECKLACE, at that time deemed a sort of CHARM
against the disorders incident to children;[62] and near the fire, a
tobacco-pipe and paper of pills.

A picture of general, and, at this awful moment, indecent confusion,
is admirably represented. The noise of two enraged quacks disputing
in bad English, the harsh vulgar scream of the maid-servant,
the table falling, and the pot boiling over, must produce a
combination of sounds dreadful and dissonant to the ear. In this
pitiable situation, without a friend to close her dying eyes or
soften her sufferings by a tributary tear,--forlorn, destitute,
and deserted,--the heroine of this eventful history expires; her
premature death brought on by a licentious life, seven years of
which had been devoted to debauchery and dissipation, and attended
by consequent infamy, misery, and disease. The whole story affords
a valuable lesson to the young and inexperienced, and proves this
great, this important truth, that A DEVIATION FROM VIRTUE IS A
DEPARTURE FROM HAPPINESS.

The emaciated appearance of the dying figure, the boy's thoughtless
inattention, and the rapacious, unfeeling eagerness of the old nurse,
are naturally and forcibly delineated.

The figures are well grouped; the curtain gives depth, and forms
a good background to the doctor's head; the light is judiciously
distributed, and each accompaniment highly appropriate.


PLATE VI.

      "No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear,
      Pleas'd thy pale ghost, or grac'd thy mournful bier:
      By harlots' hands thy dying eyes were clos'd;
      By harlots' hands thy decent limbs compos'd;
      By harlots' hands thy humble grave adorn'd;
      By harlots honoured, and by harlots mourn'd."

[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS, PLATE VI.]

The adventures of our heroine are now concluded. She is no longer an
actor in her own tragedy; and there are those who have considered
this print as a farce at the end of it: but surely such was not the
author's intention.

The ingenious writer of _Tristram Shandy_ begins the life of his hero
before he is born; the picturesque biographer of Mary Hackabout has
found an opportunity to convey admonition, and enforce his moral,
after her death. A wish usually prevails, even among those who are
most humbled by their own indiscretion, that some respect should
be paid to their remains; that their eyes should be closed by the
tender hand of a surviving friend, and the tear of sympathy and
regret shed upon the sod which covers their grave; that those who
loved them living should attend their last sad obsequies, and a
sacred character read over them the awful service which our religion
ordains with the solemnity it demands. The memory of this votary of
prostitution meets with no such marks of social attention or pious
respect. The preparations for her funeral are as licentious as the
progress of her life, and the contagion of her example seems to reach
all who surround her coffin. One of them is engaged in the double
trade of seduction and thievery; a second is contemplating her own
face in a mirror. The female who is gazing at the corpse displays
some marks of concern, and feels a momentary compunction at viewing
the melancholy scene before her: but if any other part of the company
are in a degree affected, it is a mere maudlin sorrow, kept up by
glasses of strong liquor. The depraved priest does not seem likely
to feel for the dead that hope expressed in our liturgy.[63] The
appearance and employment of almost every one present at this mockery
of woe, is such as must raise disgust in the breast of any female who
has the least tincture of delicacy, and excite a wish that such an
exhibition may not be displayed at her own funeral.

In this plate there are some local customs which mark the manners
of the times when it was engraved, but are now generally disused,
except in some of the provinces very distant from the capital; sprigs
of rosemary were then given to each of the mourners: to appear at a
funeral without one, was as great an indecorum as to be without a
white handkerchief. This custom might probably originate at a time
when the plague depopulated the metropolis, and rosemary was deemed
an antidote against contagion. It must be acknowledged that there are
also in this print some things which, though they gave the artist an
opportunity of displaying his humour, are violations of propriety
and custom: such is her child, but a few removes from infancy, being
habited as chief mourner, to attend his parent to the grave; rings
presented, and an escutcheon hung up in a garret at the funeral of a
needy prostitute.[64] The whole may be intended as a burlesque upon
ostentatious and expensive funerals, which were then more customary
than they are now. Mr. Pope has well ridiculed the same folly:

      "When Hopkins dies, a thousand lights attend
      The wretch who, living, saved a candle's end."

The figures have much characteristic discrimination: the woman
looking into the coffin has more beauty than we generally see in
the works of this artist. The undertaker's gloating stare, his
companion's leer, the internal satisfaction of the parson and his
next neighbour, are contrasted by the Irish howl of the woman at the
opposite side, and evince Mr. Hogarth's thorough knowledge of the
operation of the passions upon the features. The composition forms a
good shape, has a proper depth, and the light is well managed.

Sir James Thornhill's opinion of this series may be inferred from
the following circumstance. Mr. Hogarth had without consent married
his daughter: Sir James, considering him as an obscure artist, was
much displeased with the connection. To give him a better opinion of
his son-in-law, a common friend one morning privately conveyed the
six pictures of the "Harlot's Progress" into his drawing-room. The
veteran painter eagerly inquired who was the artist; and being told,
cried out, "Very well! Very well indeed! The man who can paint such
pictures as these, can maintain a wife without a portion." This was
the remark of the moment; but he afterwards considered the union of
his daughter with a man of such abilities an honour to his family,
was reconciled, and generous.

When the publication was advertised, such was the expectation of
the town, that above twelve hundred names were entered in the
subscription book. When the prints appeared, they were beheld with
astonishment. A subject so novel in the idea, so marked with genius
in the execution, excited the most eager attention of the public.
At a time when England was coldly inattentive to everything which
related to the arts, so desirous were all ranks of people of seeing
how this little domestic story was delineated, that there were eight
piratical imitations,--besides two copies in a smaller size than
the original, published, by permission of the author, for Thomas
Bakewell. The whole series were copied on fan-mounts, representing
the six plates, three on one side, and three on the other. It was
transferred from the copper to the stage, in the form of a pantomime,
by Theophilus Cibber; and again represented in a ballad opera,
entitled, The Jew Decoyed, or the Harlot's Progress.

A Joseph Gay, and several other wretched rhymers, published what
they called poetical illustrations of Mr. Hogarth's six plates: but
these effusions of dulness do not deserve enumeration; nor would they
deserve mention, but as collateral proofs of the great estimation in
which these prints were held, when their popularity could force the
sale of such miserable productions. Happily they are now consigned to
those two high priests of the temple of oblivion, the trunkmaker and
the pastrycook.

The six original pictures were sold on the 25th of January 1744-5,
and produced eighty-eight pounds four shillings. Mr. Beckford, a late
Lord Mayor of London, was, I believe, the purchaser. At a fire which
burnt down his house at Fonthill, Wiltshire, in the year 1755, five
of them were consumed.

When a messenger brought him intelligence of this unfortunate event,
he said nothing, but took out his pocket-book, and wrote down a
number of figures, which he seemed inspecting with the cool precision
of a true disciple of Cocker, when a friend who was present,
expressing some surprise at his being so collected after so heavy a
loss, asked him what was the subject of his meditation? to which he
answered, with the most philosophical indifference, "I am calculating
how much it will cost me to rebuild my house."

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.


PLATE I.

      "Oh, vanity of age untoward!
      Ever spleeny, ever froward!
      Why these bolts and massy chains,
      Squint suspicions, jealous pains?
      Why, thy toilsome journey o'er,
      Lay'st thou up an useless store?
      Hope along with Time is flown;
      Nor canst thou reap the field thou'st sown.
      Had'st thou a son? In time be wise;
      He views thy toil with other eyes.
      Needs must thy kind paternal care,
      Lock'd in thy chests, be buried there?
      Whence, then, shall flow that friendly ease,
      That social converse, heartfelt peace,
      Familiar duty without dread,
      Instruction from example bred,
      Which youthful minds with freedom mend,
      And with the father mix the friend.
      Uncircumscrib'd by prudent rules,
      Or precepts of expensive schools;
      Abus'd at home, abroad despis'd,
      Unbred, unletter'd, unadvis'd;
      The headstrong course of life begun,
      What comfort from thy darling son?"

      --HOADLEY.[65]

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE I.]

In the last series of prints Mr. Hogarth delineated, with a master's
hand, the miseries attendant upon a female's deviation from virtue.
In this he presents to us the picture of a young man, thoughtless,
extravagant, and licentious; and, in colours equally impressive,
paints the destructive consequences of his conduct. The first print
most forcibly contrasts two opposite passions,--the unthinking
negligence of youth, and the sordid avaricious rapacity of age. It
brings into one point of view what Mr. Pope so exquisitely describes
in his Epistle to Lord Bathurst:

      "Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store,
      Sees but a backward steward for the poor;
      This year a reservoir, to keep and spare;
      The next a fountain, spouting through his heir."

It represents a young man taking possession of a rich miser's
effects, and is crowded with the monuments of departed avarice.
Everything, valuable or not valuable, has been hoarded. A chest of
old plate, an old coat, a worn-out boot, and the caul of a periwig,
are preserved with equal care. The thread-bare garments are hung up;
the rusty spur put into a closet; and even a spectacle-frame, without
glasses, is thought worthy of preservation. The contents of his
armoury are curious, and valuable as the lumbering furniture of his
room: they consist of two swords, which may be considered as trophies
of his youthful prowess, or protectors of his cankered pelf.

The crutch and walking-stick, those unequal supporters of his
feeble frame, now lean unheeded against the wall. His fur cap and
greatcoat seem to have been winter substitutes for fire, as the grate
in which a withered _Sibyl_ is laying wood has no marks of even a
remaining cinder. The remnant of candle in a save-all, the Jack taken
down as an useless piece of furniture, and, with the spit, hoisted
into a high cupboard, give strong indications of the manner in which
this votary of Mammon existed, for such a being could scarcely be
said to live. The gaunt appearance of an half-starved cat proves not
only the rigid abstinence practised by this wretched slave to his
wealth, but that in his miserable mansion

      "No mouse e'er lurk'd, no rat e'er sought for food."

The iron-bound chests, the hidden gold falling from the breaking
cornice, and indeed every article that is displayed in this dreary
tomb of buried wealth, give additional marks of a suspicious and
sordid disposition. The picture of a miser counting his gold; the
escutcheons, those gloomy ornaments of departed wretchedness,
with the armorial bearings of avarice, three vices hard screwed,
are adjuncts highly appropriate to the place; the motto, BEWARE,
inscribed under the arms, is a well-directed caution, and ought
to be seriously considered by those who feel a propensity to this
meanest of passions. An old shoe, soled with the cover of a Bible,
and the little memorandum, _May 5th, 1721, put off my bad shilling_,
are strong proofs that extreme avarice destroys all reverence for
religion, and eradicates every principle of honesty.

The introduction to this history is well delineated, and the
principal figure marked with that easy, unmeaning vacancy of face
which speaks him formed by nature for a DUPE. Ignorant of the value
of money, and negligent in his nature, he leaves his bag of untold
gold in the reach of an old and greedy pettifogging attorney,[66]
who is making an inventory of bonds, mortgages, indentures, etc.
This man, with the rapacity so natural to his profession, seizes the
first opportunity of plundering his employer. Hogarth had a few years
before been engaged in a lawsuit, which gave him some experience of
the PRACTICE of those pests of society.

The figure of the young woman with a wedding-ring is not alluring,
neither is her face attractive; but her being pregnant, and
accompanied by her mother with an apron full of letters, gives her a
claim to our pity, as it clearly intimates that this is meant as a
visit to entreat the promised hand of her seducer; but he violates
every former protestation, refuses her marriage, and attempts by a
bribe to get a release from the obligation. Her mother violently
reproaches him for his conduct, and invokes the curses of offended
Heaven upon his falsehood.

In this print the drawing and disposition of the figures are
tolerably good, the light is properly distributed, and the
perspective accurately represented; but the whole wants _mass_. To
display the hoards, it was necessary to open the boxes and doors; and
though an exhibition of the heterogeneous collection heaped together
by this wretched defrauder of himself most forcibly describes the
disposition of the man, it hurts the _repose_ of the picture.
Breaking the background into so many parts, destroys that breadth
which ought to be considered as a leading excellence.


PLATE II.

      "Prosperity (with harlot's smiles,
      Most pleasing when she most beguiles),
      How soon, sweet foe, can all thy train
      Of false, gay, frantic, loud, and vain,
      Enter the unprovided mind,
      And memory in fetters bind?
      Load faith and love with golden chain,
      And sprinkle Lethe o'er the brain!
      Pleasure, on her silver throne,
      Smiling comes, nor comes alone;
      Venus comes with her along,
      And smooth Lyæus, ever young;
      And in their train, to fill the press,
      Come apish Dance, and swoln Excess,
      Mechanic Honour, vicious Taste,
      And Fashion in her changing vest."

      --HOADLEY.

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE II.]

The sordid avarice of the wretched miser is in this print contrasted
by the giddy profusion of his prodigal heir. The old man pined in
the midst of plenty, starved while surrounded by abundance, and
refused himself enjoyment of the absolute necessaries of life from an
apprehension of future poverty.

      "Not so his son; he mark'd this oversight,
      And quite mistook reverse of wrong for right."

Three years have elapsed, and our giddy spendthrift, throwing of the
awkwardness of a rustic, assumes the character and apes the manners
of a modern fine gentleman. To qualify himself for performing the
part, he is attended by a French tailor, a milliner, a Parisian
dancing-master,[67] a Gallic fencing-master,[68] an English
prize-fighter,[69] and a teacher of music.[70] Besides this crowd
of masters of arts, he has at his levee a blower of the French horn,
an improver of gardens,[71] a bravo,[72] a jockey,[73] and a poet!
the latter having written a panegyric in honour of this exalted
character, already anticipates approbation and reward. Surrounded
by such a multitude of attentive friends and warm admirers, the
dissolution of his fortune is inevitable; it must melt like snow
beneath the solar beam.

How exactly does Bramston describe the character in his _Man of
Taste_:

      "Without Italian, and without an ear,
      To Bononcini's music I adhere.
      To boon companions I my time would give,
      With players, pimps, and parasites I'd live;
      I would with jockeys from Newmarket dine,
      And to rough riders give my choicest wine.
      My evenings all I would with sharpers spend,
      And make the thief-taker my bosom friend;
      In Figg the prize-fighter by day delight,
      And sup with Colley Cibber every night."

On the back of the musician's chair hangs a list of presents which
Farinelli, an Italian singer, received the day after his performance
of a favourite character at the Opera House. Among others, a gold
snuff-box, chased with the story of Orpheus charming the brutes, from
T. Rakewell, Esq.

Another memento of musical extravagance is the frontispiece to a
poem lying on the floor, and dedicated to Esquire Rakewell, in which
the ladies of Great Britain are represented as sacrificing their
hearts to this idol of sound, and crying out with great earnestness,
One God, one Farinelli! This intimates the violent rage of the
fashionable world for that most frivolous of all amusements, the
Italian Opera. The taste which our prodigal has imbibed for the turf
is pointed out by the jockey presenting a silver punch-bowl, which
one of his horses is supposed to have won; his passion for another
royal amusement, by the portraits of two fighting-cocks, hung up as
the ornaments of his saloon. A picture which he has placed between
them bears a whimsical allusion; it is the "Judgment of Paris."[74]
The figures in the background consist of such persons as are general
attendants in the ante-chamber of a dissipated man of fashion. The
whole is a high-wrought satire on those men of rank and fortune whose
follies render them a prey to the artful and rapacious.

Of the expression in this print we cannot speak more highly
than it deserves. Every character is marked with its proper
and discriminative stamp. It has been said by a very judicious
critic,[75] from whom it is not easy to differ without being wrong,
that the hero of this history, in the first plate of the series, is
unmeaning; and in the second, ungraceful. The fact is admitted; but,
for so delineating him, the author is entitled to our praise rather
than our censure. Rakewell's whole conduct proves he was a fool,
and at that time he had not learned how to perform an artificial
character; he therefore looks as he is, unmeaning and uninformed.
But in the second plate he is ungraceful--granted. The ill-educated
son of so avaricious a father could not have been introduced into
very good company; and though, by the different teachers who surround
him, it evidently appears that he wishes to assume the character of
a gentleman, his internal feelings tell him he has not attained it.
Under that consciousness, he is properly and naturally represented as
ungraceful and embarrassed in his new situation.

The light, it must be acknowledged, is very ill distributed, and the
figures most inartificially grouped. To infer from hence, with Mr.
Gilpin, that the artist was at a loss how to group them, is not quite
fair: his others compositions prove that he was not ignorant of the
art, but in many of them he has been inattentive to it. In this he
may have introduced in his print figures which were not inserted in
the sketch, merely because they were appropriate to his story. The
expression of the actors in his drama was always his leading object;
composition he considered as secondary, and was little solicitous
about their situation on the stage.


PLATE III.

      "O vanity of youthful blood,
      So by misuse to poison good!
      Woman, framed for social love,
      Fairest gift of powers above,
      Source of every household blessing;
      All charms in innocence possessing:
      But, turn'd to vice, all plagues above;
      Foe to thy being, foe to love!
      Guest divine, to outward viewing;
      Ablest minister of ruin!
      And thou, no less of gift divine,
      Sweet poison of misused wine!
      With freedom led to every part,
      And secret chamber of the heart,
      Dost thou thy friendly host betray,
      And show thy riotous gang the way
      To enter in, with covert treason,
      O'erthrow the drowsy guard of reason,
      To ransack the abandoned place,
      And revel there with wild excess?"

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE III.]

This plate exhibits our licentious prodigal engaged in one of his
midnight festivities: forgetful of the past, and negligent of the
future, he riots in the present. Having poured his libation to
Bacchus, he concludes the evening orgies in a sacrifice at the
Cyprian shrine; and, surrounded by the votaries of Venus, joins in
the unhallowed mysteries of the place. The companions of his revelry
are marked with that easy, unblushing effrontery which belongs to the
servants of all work in the isle of Paphos;--for the maids of honour,
they are not sufficiently elevated.

He may be supposed, in the phrase of the day, to have beat the
rounds, overset a constable, and conquered a watchman, whose staff
and lanthorn he has brought into the room as trophies of his prowess.
In this situation he is robbed of his watch by the girl whose hand
is in his bosom; and, with that adroitness peculiar to an old
practitioner, she conveys her acquisition to an accomplice, who
stands behind the chair.

Two of the ladies are quarrelling; and one of them delicately spouts
wine in the face of her opponent, who is preparing to revenge the
affront with a knife, which, in a posture of threatening defiance,
she grasps in her hand. A third, enraged at being neglected, holds a
lighted candle to a map of the globe, determined to set the world on
fire though she perish in the conflagration! A fourth is undressing.
The fellow bringing in a pewter dish,[76] as part of the apparatus
of this elegant and attic entertainment, a blind harper,[77] a
trumpeter, and a ragged ballad-singer roaring out an obscene song,
completes this motley group.

This design may be a very exact representation of what were then the
nocturnal amusements of a brothel;--so different are the manners of
the year 1805 from those of 1734, that I much question whether a
similar exhibition is now to be seen in any tavern of the metropolis.
That we are less licentious than our predecessors, I dare not affirm;
but we are certainly more delicate in the pursuit of our pleasures.

The room is furnished with a set of Roman emperors,--they are not
placed in their proper order; for in the mad revelry of the evening
this family of frenzy have decollated all of them except Nero; and
his manners had too great a similarity to their own to admit of
his suffering so degrading an insult: their reverence for _virtue_
induced them to spare his head. In the frame of a Cæsar they have
placed the portrait of Pontac, an eminent cook, whose great talents
being turned to heightening sensual rather than mental enjoyments, he
has a much better chance of a votive offering from this company than
would either Vespasian or Trajan.

The shattered mirror, broken wine-glasses, fractured chair and cane;
the mangled fowl, with a fork stuck in its breast, thrown into a
corner, and indeed every accompaniment, shows that this has been a
night of riot without enjoyment, mischief without wit, and waste
without gratification.

With respect to the drawing of the figures in this curious female
coterie, Hogarth evidently intended several of them for beauties; and
of vulgar, uneducated, prostituted beauty, he had a good idea. The
hero of our tale displays all that careless jollity which copious
draughts of maddening wine are calculated to inspire; he laughs the
world away, and bids it pass. The poor dupe without his periwig, in
the background, forms a good contrast of character: he is maudlin
drunk, and sadly sick. To keep up the spirit of unity throughout the
society, and not leave the poor African girl entirely neglected,
she is making signs to her friend the porter, who perceives, and
slightly returns, her love-inspiring glance. This print is rather
crowded,--the subject demanded it should be so; some of the figures
thrown into shade might have helped the general effect, but would
have injured the characteristic expression.


PLATE IV.

      "O vanity of youthful blood,
      So by misuse to poison good!
      Reason awakes, and views unbarr'd
      The sacred gates he wish'd to guard;
      Approaching, see the harpy Law,
      And Poverty, with icy paw,
      Ready to seize the poor remains
      That vice has left of all his gains.
      Cold penitence, lame after-thought,
      With fear, despair, and horror fraught,
      Call back his guilty pleasures dead,
      Whom he hath wrong'd, and whom betray'd."

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE IV.]

The career of dissipation is here stopped. Dressed in the first style
of the _ton_, and getting out of a sedan chair, with the hope of
shining in the circle, and perhaps forwarding a former application
for a place or a pension, he is arrested! To intimate that being
plundered is the certain consequence of such an event, and to show
how closely one misfortune treads upon the heels of another, a boy is
at the same moment picking his pocket.

The unfortunate girl whom he basely deserted is now a milliner,
and naturally enough attends in the crowd to mark the fashions of the
day. Seeing his distress, with all the eager tenderness of unabated
love, she flies to his relief. Possessed of a small sum of money,
the hard earnings of unremitted industry, she generously offers her
purse for the liberation of her worthless favourite. This releases
the captive beau, and displays a strong instance of female affection,
which, being once planted in the bosom, is rarely eradicated by the
coldest neglect or harshest cruelty.

The high-born, haughty Welshman, with an enormous leek, and a
countenance keen and lofty as his native mountains, establishes the
chronology, and fixes the day to be the first of March; which, being
sacred to the titular saint of Wales, was observed at court.[78]

The background exhibits a view of St James's Palace, and White's
Chocolate House, then the rendezvous of the first gamesters in
London. At this fountainhead of dissipation the artist has aimed a
flash of lightning; and to show the contagion of example, and how
much this ruinous vice prevails even in the lowest ranks of society,
he has in one corner of the print represented an assembly composed
of shoe-blacks, chimney-sweepers, etc.,[79] who, aping the vices of
their superiors, are engaged at cards, dice, cups and balls, and
pricking in the belt. To intimate how eagerly these minor gamblers
enter into the spirit of what they are engaged in, one of them is
naked, and having staked and lost his clothes, is now throwing for
his stock in trade, a basket, brushes, and blacking. The little
smutty smoking politician is reading the _Farthing Post_; his
attention is exquisitely marked; his whole soul is engaged; and,
regardless of the confusion which reigns around, he contemplates

      "The fate of empires, and the fall of kings."

A chimney-sweeper peeping at the postboy's cards, and informing his
adversary that he has two honours, by holding up two fingers, is
a fine stroke of humour; as the inscription _Black's_, being on a
post[80] close to where this congress of the _privileged orders_ are
assembled, is an excellent antithesis when contrasted to _White's_,
on the opposite side.

The grouping is good, the perspective agreeable, and the expression
admirable. The trembling terror of the beau, agitated to the very
soul, is well contrasted by the hard unfeeling insolence of two
bailiffs; and that, again, opposed by the tender solicitude of the
poor girl. The gunpowder mark of a star on the side of the naked
shoe-black, who is putting his last stake on the hazard of a die,
is another well-pointed piece of satire on the conduct of those
high-born gamesters, who at the opposite house, with a dignified
disregard for the future fate of themselves or their families, put
their last acre on the same issue. The boy with a pipe and little
pewter measure and glass by his side, shows that smoking and drinking
drams was not peculiar to adults, but sometimes practised by young
gentlemen before their attainment of what the law calls years of
discretion.


PLATE V.

      "New to the school of hard mishap,
      Driven from the ease of fortune's lap,
      What schemes will nature not embrace
      T' avoid less shame of drear distress?
      Gold can the charms of youth bestow,
      And mask deformity with show:
      Gold can avert the sting of shame,
      In Winter's arms create a flame:
      Can couple youth with hoary age,
      And make antipathies engage."

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE V.]

To be thus degraded by the rude enforcement of the law, and relieved
from an exigence by one whom he had injured, would have wounded,
humbled, I had almost said reclaimed, any man who had either feeling
or elevation of mind; but, to mark the progression of vice, we here
see this depraved, lost character, hypocritically violating every
natural feeling of the soul to recruit his exhausted finances, and
marrying an old and withered Sibyl, at the sight of whom nature must
recoil.

The ceremony passes in Marybone Church, which was then considered
at such a distance from London, as to become the usual resort of
those who wished to be privately married.[81] That such was the
view of this prostituted young man, may be fairly inferred from
a glance at the object of his choice. Her charms are heightened
by the affectation of an amorous leer, which she directs to her
youthful husband, in grateful return for a similar compliment which
she supposed paid to herself. This gives her face much meaning, but
meaning of such a sort, that an observer being asked, "How dreadful
must be this creature's hatred?" would naturally reply, "How hateful
must be her love!"

In his demeanour we discover an attempt to appear at the altar with
becoming decorum: but internal perturbation darts through assumed
tranquillity; for though he is plighting his troth to the old woman,
his eyes are fixed on the young girl who kneels behind her.[82]

The parson and clerk seem made for each other: a sleepy, stupid
solemnity marks every muscle of the divine, and the nasal droning of
the lay brother is most happily expressed. Accompanied by her child
and mother, the unfortunate victim of his seduction is here again
introduced, endeavouring to enter the church and forbid the banns.
The opposition made by an old pew-opener, with her bunch of keys,
gave the artist a good opportunity for indulging his taste in the
burlesque, and he has not neglected it.

A dog[83] paying his addresses to a one-eyed quadruped of his own
species, is a happy parody of the unnatural union going on in the
church.

The Commandments are broken:[84] a crack runs near the tenth, which
says, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife;" a prohibition
in the present case hardly necessary. The Creed is destroyed by
the damps of the church; and so little attention has been paid to
the poor's box, that--it is covered with a cobweb!!! These three
high-wrought strokes of satirical humour were perhaps never equalled
by an exertion of the pencil; excelled they cannot be.

On one of the pew-doors is the following curious specimen of
churchyard poetry and mortuary orthography:--

  THESE : PEWES : VNSCRUD : AND TANE : IN : SVNDER
  IN : STONE : THERS : GRAUEN : WHAT : IS : VNDER
  TO : WIT : A VALT : FOR : BURIAL : THERE : IS
  WHICH : EDWARD : FORSET : MADE : FOR : HIM : AND : HIS.[85]

A glory over the bride's head is whimsical.

The bay and holly, which decorate the pews, give a date to the
period, and determine this preposterous union of January with June to
have taken place about the time of Christmas,

      "When Winter linger'd in her icy veins."

Addison would have classed her among the evergreens of the sex.

It has been observed, that "the church is too small, and that the
wooden post, which seems to have no use, divides the picture very
disagreeably."[86] This cannot be denied: but it appears to be meant
as an accurate representation of the place, and the artist delineated
what he saw.

The grouping is good, and the principal figure has the air of
a gentleman. The light is well distributed, and the scene most
characteristically represented.


PLATE VI.

      "Gold, thou bright son of Phœbus, source
      Of universal intercourse;
      Of weeping Virtue soft redress:
      And blessing those who live to bless:
      Ye oft behold this sacred trust,
      The tool of avaricious lust;
      No longer bond of human kind,
      But bane of every virtuous mind.
      What chaos such misuse attends,
      Friendship stoops to prey on friends;
      Health, that gives relish to delight,
      Is wasted with the wasting night;
      Doubt and mistrust is thrown on Heaven,
      And all its power to chance is given.
      Sad purchase of repentant tears,
      Of needless quarrels, endless fears,
      Of hopes of moments, pangs of years!
      Sad purchase of a tortur'd mind,
      To an imprison'd body join'd."

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE VI.]

Though now, from the infatuated folly of his antiquated wife, in
possession of a fortune, he is still the slave of that baneful vice
which, while it enslaves the mind, poisons the enjoyments, and sweeps
away the possessions of its deluded votaries. Destructive as the
earthquake which convulses nature, it overwhelms the pride of the
forest, and engulfs the labours of the architect.

Newmarket and the cock-pit were the scenes of his early amusements;
to crown the whole, he is now exhibited at a gaming-table, where
all is lost! His countenance distorted with agony, and his soul
agitated almost to madness, he imprecates vengeance upon his own
head.

      "In heartfelt bitter anguish he appears,
      And from the bloodshot ball gush purpled tears!
      He beats his brow, with rage and horror fraught;
      His brow half bursts with agony of thought!"

That he should be deprived of all he possessed in such a society as
surround him, is not to be wondered at. One of the most conspicuous
characters appears, by the pistols in his pocket, to be a highwayman:
from the profound stupor of his countenance, we are certain he also
is a losing gamester; and so absorbed in reflection, that neither the
boy who brings him a glass of water, nor the watchman's cry of Fire!
can arouse him from his reverie. Another of the party is marked for
one of those well-dressed Continental adventurers, who, being unable
to live in their own country, annually pour into this, and with no
other requisites than a quick eye, an adroit hand, and an undaunted
forehead, are admitted into what is absurdly enough called good
company.

At the table a person in mourning grasps his hat, and hides his face
in the agony of repentance,[87] not having, as we infer from his
weepers, received that legacy of which he is now plundered more than
a little month. On the opposite side is another on whom fortune has
severely frowned, biting his nails in the anguish of his soul. The
fifth completes the climax; he is frantic, and with a drawn sword
endeavours to destroy a _pauvre miserable_ whom he supposes to have
cheated him, but is prevented by the interposition of one of those
staggering votaries of Bacchus who are to be found in every company
where there is good wine; and gaming, like the rod of Moses, so
far swallows up every other passion, that the actors, engrossed by
greater objects, willingly leave their wine to the audience.

In the background are two collusive associates eagerly dividing the
profits of the evening.

A nobleman in the corner is giving his note to an usurer.[88] The
lean and hungry appearance of this cent. per cent. worshipper of the
golden calf is well contrasted by the sleek contented vacancy of
so well-employed a legislator of this great empire. Seated at the
table, a portly gentleman,[89] of whom we see very little, is coolly
sweeping off his winnings.

So engrossed is every one present by his own situation, that the
flames which surround them are disregarded,[90] and the vehement
cries of a watchman entering the room are necessary to rouse their
attention to what is generally deemed the first law of nature,
self-preservation.[91]

The grouping of the figures in this print is masterly; but the light,
being reflected from various sources, overbalances the shadow, and
fatigues the eye. The perspective, though formal, is natural.


PLATE VII.

      "Happy the man whose constant thought
      (Though in the school of hardship taught)
      Can send remembrance back to fetch
      Treasures from life's earliest stretch;
      Who, self-approving, can review
      Scenes of past virtues, which shine through
      The gloom of age, and cast a ray
      To gild the evening of his day!
        Not so the guilty wretch confin'd:
      No pleasures meet his conscious mind;
      No blessings brought from early youth,
      But broken faith, and wrested truth;
      Talents idle and unus'd,
      And every trust of Heaven abus'd,
        In seas of sad reflection lost,
      From horrors still to horrors toss'd,
      Reason the vessel leaves to steer,
      And gives the helm to mad Despair."

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE VII.]

It is pithily and profitably observed by Mr. Hugh Latimer, or some
other venerable writer of his day, that "the direct path from a
gaming-house is unto a prisonne, for the menne who doe neeste
themselves in these pestiferous hauntes, being either fooles or
cheates, be punished: if fooles, by their own undoing; if cheates, by
the biting lash of the beadle, and the durance of their vile bodies."

In the plate before us this remark is verified. Our improvident
spendthrift is now lodged in that dreary receptacle of human
misery--a prison. His countenance exhibits a picture of despair;
the forlorn state of his mind is displayed in every limb, and his
exhausted finances by the turnkey's demand of prison fees not being
answered, and the boy refusing to leave a tankard of porter unless he
is paid for it.

We learn by a letter upon the table, that a play which he sent for
the manager's inspection "will not doe;"[92] and we see by the
enraged countenance of his wife, that she is violently reproaching
him for having deceived and ruined her. To crown this catalogue
of human tortures, the poor girl whom he deserted is come with
her child,--perhaps to comfort him, to alleviate his sorrows, to
soothe his sufferings: but the agonizing view is too much for her
agitated frame; shocked at the prospect of that misery which she
cannot remove, every object swims before her eyes, a film covers the
sight, the blood forsakes her cheeks, her lips assume a pallid hue,
and she sinks to the floor of the prison in temporary death. What a
heart-rending prospect for him by whom this is occasioned! Should
he in the anguish of his soul inquire, "Who is it that hath caused
this?" that inward monitor, which to him must be a perpetual torment,
would reply in the words that Nathan said unto David, "Thou art the
man!" Such an accumulation of woe must shake reason from her throne.
The thin partitions which divide judgment from distraction are thrown
down, the fine fibres of the brain are overstrained, and in the place
of godlike apprehension,

      "Chaos and anarchy assume the sway."

That balm of a wounded mind,--the recollection of connubial love,
parental joys, and all the nameless tender sympathies which calm
the troubled soul,--in his blank and blotted memory find no place.
Remorse and self-abhorrence rankle in his bosom! his groans, heaved
from the heart, pierce the air! he is chained! rages! gnashes his
teeth, and tears his quivering flesh! At this dreadful crisis he
sees, or seems to see,

      "A fiend, in evil moments ever nigh,
      Death in her hand, and frenzy in her eye!
      Her eye all red, and sunk! A robe she wore,
      With life's calamities embroidered o'er.
      From me (she cries), pale wretch, thy comfort claim,
      Born of Despair, and Suicide my name."

He attempts to take away that life which is become hateful to him; is
prevented, and removed to a cell more dreadful than even a prison:

      "Where Misery and Madness hold their court."

But let us for a moment return to the present scene. The wretched,
squalid inmate who is assisting the fainting female, bears every mark
of being naturalized to the place: out of his pocket hangs a scroll,
on which is inscribed, "A scheme to pay the national debt, by J. L.,
now a prisoner in the Fleet." So attentive was this poor gentleman to
the debts of the nation, that he totally forgot his own. The cries of
the child, and the good-natured attentions of the two women, heighten
the interest, and realize the scene. Over the group are a large pair
of wings, with which some emulator of Dedalus intended to escape from
his confinement; but finding them inadequate to the execution of his
project, has placed them upon the tester of his bed. They would not
exalt him to the regions of air, but they o'er-canopy him on earth.
A chemist in the background, happy in his views, watching the moment
of projection, is not to be disturbed from his dream by anything less
than the fall of the roof or the bursting of his retort; and if his
dream affords him felicity, why should he be awakened? The bed and
gridiron, those poor remnants of our miserable spendthrift's wrecked
property, are brought here as necessary in his degraded situation; on
one he must try to repose his wearied frame, on the other he is to
dress his scanty meal.

The grated gate, secured with tenfold bars of iron, reminds us of
Milton's

      "Infernal doors, that on their hinges grate
      Harsh thunder!"

The principal figure is wonderfully delineated. Every muscle is
marked, every nerve is unstrung; we see into his very soul. The poor
prisoner who is assisting the fainting woman is ill drawn; the group
of which she is the principal figure is unskilfully contrived: it
forms a round heavy mass. The opposite group, though better, is not
pleasing.


PLATE VIII.

      "Madness! thou chaos of the brain,
      What art? that pleasure giv'st and pain,
      Tyranny of fancy's reign!
      Mechanic fancy! that can build
      Vast labyrinths and mazes wild,
      With rule disjointed, shapeless measure,
      Fill'd with horror, fill'd with pleasure!
      Shapes of horror, that would even
      Cast doubt of mercy upon Heaven;
      Shapes of pleasure, that but seen,
      Would split the shaking sides of Spleen.
        O vanity of age! here see
      The stamp of Heaven effac'd by thee!
      The headstrong course of youth thus run,
      What comfort from this darling son?
      His rattling chains with terror hear,
      Behold death grappling with despair!
      See him by thee to ruin sold,
      And curse thyself, and curse thy gold!"

[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE VIII.]

"Last scene of all,--which ends this strange eventful history!"

But in this scene, dreary and horrid as are its accompaniments, he is
attended by the faithful and kind-hearted female whom he so basely
betrayed. In the first plate we see him refuse her his promised hand.
In the fourth she releases him from the harpy fangs of a bailiff; she
is present at his marriage. In the hope of relieving his distress,
she follows him to a prison. Wishing to soothe his misery and
alleviate his woe, she here attends him in a madhouse! What a return
for deceit and desertion!

The Reverend Mr. Gilpin, in his elucidation of these eight prints,
asserts that "this thought is rather unnatural, and the moral
certainly culpable."[93] With the utmost deference for his critical
abilities, I must entertain a different opinion. We have had many
similar examples of female attachment. If it be culpable to forgive
those which have despitefully used us, to free those which are in
bonds, to visit those which are in prison, and to comfort those which
are in affliction, what meaning have the divine precepts of our holy
religion?

The female mind is naturally credulous, affectionate, and--in its
attachments--ardent. If, in her peculiar situation, her assiduities
must be deemed in any degree culpable, let us remember that this is
but a frail vessel of refined clay. When the awful record of her
errors is unrolled, may that sigh which was breathed for the misery
of a fellow-mortal waft away the scroll, and the tears which flowed
for the calamities of others float the memorial down the stream of
oblivion!

On the errors of women, let us look with the allowance and humanity
of men. Enchanting woman! thou balm of life! soother of sorrow!
solace of the soul! how dost thou lessen the load of human misery,
and lead the wretched into the valley of delight! Without thee, how
heavily would man drag through a dreary world; but if the white hand
of a fascinating female be twined round his arm, how joyous, how
lightly doth he trip along the path!

That warm and tender friend, who in the most trying situations
retains her enthusiastic fondness, and in every change of fortune
preserves unabated love, ought to be embraced as the first bension of
heaven, the completion of earthly happiness! Let man but draw such a
prize in the lottery of life, and glide down the stream of existence
with such a partner, and neither the cold averted eye of a summer
friend, nor the frowns of an adverse fortune, should ever produce a
pang or excite a murmur. But enough,--let not the chaste feelings
of blushing innocence be wounded by this rhapsody, or for a moment
suppose that the episode, or effusion, or e'en whatever she pleases,
is intended as a vindication of female folly; in good truth it is
not. The writer would not wish it delivered to the cold-fingered
portress of Diana's temple, but it may be laid upon that altar which
is sacred to Friendship, to Hymen, to Love.--There we will leave it,
and return to the plate before us.

A gentleman[94] from whom I have once or twice reluctantly presumed
to differ, says that "the drawing of the principal figure is a more
accurate piece of anatomy than we commonly find in the works of this
master." The observation is perfectly just, but the inaccuracies
of Mr. Hogarth did not arise from inability, but from inattention.
He says further, that "the expression of the principal figure is
rather unmeaning." The late and ever to be lamented Mr. Mortimer,
whose wonderful abilities as an artist were only equalled by his
amiable and kind-hearted virtues as a man,--the late Mr. Mortimer, of
whom I can never think without a sigh of regard and regret, thought
very differently. He was once requested to delineate several of the
passions, as they are personified by Mr. Gray. One of the subjects
proposed was,--

      "Moody madness, laughing wild, amid severest woe."

The instant this line was read to him, he opened a portfolio, took
out the eighth plate of the "Rake's Progress," and pointing to the
principal figure, exclaimed, "Sir, if I had never seen this print, I
should say it was not possible to paint these contending passions in
the same countenance. Having seen this, which exactly displays Mr.
Gray's idea, I dare not attempt it. I could only make a correct copy;
for the alteration of a single line would be a departure from the
character."

The reclining figure, with a cross leaning near him, is in a high
degree terrific.[95]

                      "With horror wild,
      'Tis Devotion's ruin'd child,
      Sunk in the emphasis of grief;
      Nor can he feel, nor dares he ask relief."

In the cell are the portraits of three saints, whose systems were
built on the necessity of propagating the religion of mercy by the
sword and the wheel.

Near him are two astronomers, one with a paper rolled up to imitate a
telescope, gazing at the roof, in the idea that it is

      "The spacious canopy of heaven, fretted with golden fires."

The other, delineating the firing off a bomb and a ship moored at
a distance, is an immediate ridicule of Whiston's project for the
discovery of the longitude,--an object which at this time engaged the
attention of the philosophical world, and in the fruitless search
after which many a feeble head hath become mad, north--north-west!

The opposite group form a whimsical trio. A mad musician, a
counterfeit presentment of St. Peter, and a poor gentleman, with his
hands clasped together, that appears by the inscription of "Charming
Betty Careless," which he has chalked upon a board, to be

      "Craz'd with care, and cross'd by hopeless love."

He is absorbed in thought, and his whole soul so engrossed by the
charms of his Dulcinea, that neither the discordant sounds of the
fiddler, whose trembling strings

      "Grate harshly on the nerve auricular,"

nor the roar of the pope, who is furiously denouncing destruction on
all heretics, nor the ear-piercing noise of a barking cur, can awake
him from his reverie.

A crazy tailor and a mimic monarch complete this congregation of
calamity.

Two women, impelled by a most unaccountable curiosity, are walking
in the background. Devoid of that delicacy which gives beauty new
attractions, they forget that an eagerness to witness woe which
they cannot alleviate, gives strong indication of an hardened and
unfeeling heart.

The halfpenny stuck against a wall, and dated 1763, was inserted by
Mr. Hogarth the year before his death, and is designed to intimate
that Britannia was then mad. This is one of the few instances wherein
he has called in the aid of allegory, but his allegory was always
seasoned with wit.

Of the expression I have already spoken. The disposition of the
figures is good. That group in which the usurper of St. Peter's
chair is the principal object, is well contrived. There is great
simplicity and breadth in the background, and the light and
perspective are judicious.

      "Protract not, curious ears, the mournful tale;
      But o'er the hapless group low drop Compassion's veil."

The eight prints of the "Rake's Progress," with "Southwark Fair,"
were advertised in the _London Daily Post_ to be delivered June 25th,
1735, with an apology for the publication being deferred, which Mr.
Hogarth states to have been occasioned by his waiting until the royal
assent was given to an Act intended to secure all new invented prints
from being copied, etc.

This series are in every respect superior to those which preceded
them, but were not honoured with an equal attention by the public.

From what did this arise? Were the town more interested in the story
of an harlot than in the adventures of a rake, or had this new mode
of engraving history lost its novelty?

On this occasion was published an octavo pamphlet, entitled, "_The
Rake's Progress, or the Humours of Drury Lane_, a Poem in eight
Cantos, in Hudibrastic verse; being the Rambles of a modern Oxonian:
which is a complete Key to the eight Prints lately published by
the celebrated Mr. Hogarth. Printed for John Chetwood, and sold at
Inigo Jones' Head, against Exeter Change, Strand, 1735." This is a
most contemptible and indecent performance. In some of the copies
are inserted eight prints; but they are only the designs of Hogarth
mutilated, and perhaps were originally engraved for the decoration of
some other work.

There is reason to believe that the artist once intended to have
introduced the ceremony of a marriage contract, instead of the levee,
as an unfinished painting of the scene is still preserved. In this
sketch he appears to have thought of taking the same ground with Mr.
Pope:

      "What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to waste?
      Some demon whisper'd, 'Visto, have a taste.'"

For our Rake is there turned connoisseur; and among a number of
articles which prove him a man of _virtu_, is a canvas containing the
representation of a human foot.[96]

In the year 1745 the eight pictures were sold by auction, at Mr.
Hogarth's in Leicester Fields, and produced twenty-two guineas each;
total, one hundred and eighty-four pounds, sixteen shillings. They
are now, I believe, in the possession of Mr. Beckford of Fonthill, in
Wiltshire.




SOUTHWARK FAIR.

      "The crowded scene will please us then,
      And the busy hum of men;
      The Thespian throng, and champions bold,
      Their jubilee of triumph hold:
      With store of wenches, whose bright eyes
      Rain influence, and judge the prize
      Of hat or shirt,--while all contend
      To catch her glance whom all commend.
        Come, Sport, that wrinkled Care derides;
      And Laughter, holding both his sides;
      And puppet-show, and quaint device,
      And Troy in flames, and rattling dice:
      And Comedy, with wreathed smiles;
      And Music, that dull care beguiles;
      Here let the droning bagpipe be,
      And there the cheerful fiddle see.
        Nor be our joys to earth confin'd,--
      But, light as air, swift as the wind,
      Let Cadman cut the liquid sky,
      And on the rope Violante fly.
          Our trumpet's loud clangour
            Excites not to arms;
          No shrill notes of anger,
            No horrid alarms,
          The double, double, double beat
            Of the thundering drum,
            Tells--the actors are come;
          Let us follow, nor think of retreat.
          I'll to the well-trod stage anon,
          If Settle's[97] 'cumber'd sock be on;
          Or heavy Howard,[98] Folly's child,
          In native nonsense soareth wild.
          These joys if Southwark Fair can give,
          In Southwark Fair a week I'll live."

[Illustration: SOUTHWARK FAIR.]

At a time when martial hardihood was the only accomplishment likely
to confer distinction, when war was thought to be the most honourable
pursuit, and agriculture deemed the only necessary employment, there
was little social intercourse, and so few retail dealers, that
men had no very easy means of procuring those articles which
they occasionally wanted. To remove this inconvenience, it was
found necessary to establish some general mart, where they might
be supplied. Fairs were therefore instituted, as a proper medium
between the buyer and seller, and were at first considered as merely
places of trade.[99] They were generally held on saints' days. Some
of them continued open many weeks, and had peculiar privileges to
encourage the attendance of those who had goods upon sale. The pedlar
travelled from city to city, or from town to town, with his moveable
warehouse, and furnished his customers with what served them until
his periodical return.

As men grew more polished their wants increased, their intercourse
became more general, and the importance of commerce was better
understood. The merchant deposited his goods in a warehouse, and the
trader opened a shop. Fairs, deserted by men of business, gradually
changed their nature, and, instead of being crowded by the active and
the industrious, were the haunts of the idle and the dissolute.[100]
Such were they at the time of this delineation, which was made about
the year 1733, and may be considered as a true picture of the
holiday amusements of that period. At the head of these we must place
what were than called stage-plays,--a most favourite diversion of
your Englishman ever since the time

      "When sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child,
      Warbled his native woodnotes wild."

In these humble representations some of our greatest actors made
their first appearance; and not a few of them, even after they had
attained high eminence, ranted, strutted, and bellowed through all
the days the fairs were kept open, to their own emolument, and the
heartfelt pleasure of the Wapping beaux and the black-eyed beauties
of Saltpetre Bank.

The play now enacting appears to be the _Fall of Bajazet_,[101]--and
it is performed to the life; for the unsure scaffolding, not being
built to bear the terror-working stamps of the furious Turk, tumbles
to the ground. The tyrant's turban is shaken from his head, the
truncheon is dropped from his hand, and with the moralizing Tamerlane
he joins the general crash, and threatens destruction to the china
jars and bowls which are beneath. Not only the heroes and heroine
of the drama, but both band and musical instruments are involved in
the ruin. The band, it is true, consists of--a solitary fiddler;
and the instruments are--a violin and a salt-box. The monkey and the
merry-andrew seem the only two animals likely to evade injury in this
universal wreck. Corporeal dexterity at such a time is more useful
than mental acquirements.

The Amazonian, with a hat, feather, and drum, is a beauty of Mr.
Hogarth's school, belongs to a company of comedians, and is beating
up for an audience. The gaping astonishment of two rustics who are
looking at her is inimitably described. One of them, awe-struck by
her figure, has pulled off his hat in reverence of her charms; the
other "wonders with a foolish face of praise."

A buskined hero, arrayed perhaps for an Alexander, has his career of
glory stopped by a sheriff's officer, who pays no respect

      "To Macedonia's madman, or the Swede."

The hero puts his hand to his sword, but the bailiffs follower
secures his other arm, and aims a bludgeon at his head.

A younger branch of the family of the Simples, with a whip in one
hand and the other hooked on a young girl's arm, is so lost in gaping
astonishment at the variety of objects around him, that he neglects
his pockets, which an adroit candidate for Tyburn is clearing of
their contents. While one fellow kisses a girl,[102] another
endeavours to decoy her two companions. A prize-fighter, furrowed
with scars, makes his triumphal entry on a blind horse, and, calling
up a face of terror, and grasping his sword, hurls a proud defiance
to all who dare appear as his competitors.

A juggler, in a senatorial wig, displays magic wonders with the
cups and balls; and above him is a fellow with a pair of artificial
legs extended on a board: one of these legs a man beneath is either
attempting to break, or using as a lever to give a summerset to a
tumbler, who kneels upon the other. A hat displayed on the end of a
pole is the prize of the best wrestler on the green; and a holland
chemise will reward the _fair racer_ swiftest of foot.

A quack doctor, in laced hat, long periwig, and embroidered coat,
mounted upon a stage and attended by his merry-andrew, dispenses his
infallible medicines. To attract the notice of a gaping crowd, this
iron-throated descendant of Paracelsus eats fire.

That ancient puppet-show joke of Mr. Punch's horse picking the pocket
of the chequered fool of the farce, is exhibited in a balcony, on one
side of which is a bout at cudgels by puppets all alive!

Under a show-cloth, which announces "The Siege of Troy[103] is
here," are a company rehearsing some part of the play. By a sun
upon the breast of the figure in a mitre, we know him to be the
high-priest of Apollo, the venerable Chryses. While one arm of this
sage of many sorrows is twined round the pole which supports the
wooden horse, the other is stretched out in moving supplication,
entreating the hearers to

      "Relieve a wretched parent's pain,
      And give Chryseïs to his arms again."

Chryseïs, however, is perfectly satisfied with her situation. Seated
in all the pride of conscious beauty close to the haughty Atrides,
and glorying in his protection, she prefers the lover to the parent.
The inexorable chief nods his plumed crest, grasps his truncheon, and
"looks with threatening brow on all around."

      "No tears subdue him, no entreaties move,
      He dares avenging Phœbus, son of Jove."

A little fellow with long hair, playing upon the bagpipes,[104]
is attended by a dancing dog, dressed _en militaire_, and with
his foot dances his Fantoccini figures. His Madame Catharina does
not excite the attention she merits: the woman with a dice-box has
superior attractions; and a country fellow, in a coat which seems
to have been the Sunday habiliment of his forefathers for many
generations, is trying his fortune, though earnestly dissuaded by his
more prudent son from putting his pence in so perilous a situation.
The woman, with that energetic eloquence which marks the orators of
Billingsgate, rates the boy for daring to doubt her honesty. On the
other side, a Savoyard music-grinder, with her _galante_ show, is
attended by a dwarf drummer, and collecting pence from the little
people who prefer a wonderful and surprising prospect of every court
in Europe to a pennyworth of gingerbread. In the distance, a set
of figures have been engaged at quarter-staff, then a favourite
amusement; and the conqueror, waving his flag of victory, is hoisted
upon the shoulders of another man; and thus triumphantly exalted, the
air echoes with loud and reiterated acclamations in honour of his
prowess.

Having despatched the herd[105] of characters who people the scene
on earth, I reserved to a class by themselves those who are buoyant
in the air. The figure vaulting on a rope was designed for Signora
Violante, who signalized herself in the reign of George I. She was
followed by some inferior performers; but the science of rope-dancing
and riding has now arrived at its acme, and is rising into such
estimation with the public, that Dr. Johnson's prophecy may, at a
future day, be wholly fulfilled in our royal theatres. In part it has
been already verified:

      "Perhaps where Lear has rav'd and Hamlet died,
      On flying cars new sorcerers may ride;
      Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance?)
      Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance."

The man descending from a steeple represents one Cadman, who, in the
memory of some persons now living, performed the same feat at St.
Martin's in the Fields, from the steeple of which he descended into
the Mews. In an experiment of the like nature at Shrewsbury, the rope
breaking, he was dashed to pieces.

A show-cloth over the _Fall of Bajazet_ is almost a direct copy from
a very coarse etching made by John Laguerre, son of Louis Laguerre,
whom Pope has immortalized for his sprawling saints. On the upper
part of the print is inscribed, "The Stage Mutiny." It alludes to
some disputes between the managers of Drury Lane and such of the
actors as were spirited up to rebellion by Theophilus Cibber, and
seceded to the Haymarket in 1733. As this made much noise in its day,
it may not be unentertaining to narrate some of the circumstances
which occasioned it.

The patent for Drury Lane being renewed, Mr. Booth, who found his
health decline, began to think it was time to dispose of his share
and interest in the theatre. The purchaser was John Highmore, Esq.,
a gentleman who had unhappily contracted an attachment to the
stage, from having one night performed the part of Lothario for a
wager.[106] He gave Booth £2500 for half his share in the property,
and his whole right in the management. Mr. Wilkes had previously
appointed Ellis his deputy; and Colley Cibber, extremely displeased
that two strangers should be thus empowered to interfere, authorized
his son to act for him in everything that concerned his share in
the management. The first season ended with some profit to the new
patentees; but Mr. Highmore being disgusted by the impertinence of
young Cibber, determined to exonerate himself from his interference,
and, for the sum of three thousand guineas, purchased the elder
Cibber's right in the theatre. Two years had hardly passed before
the principal actors, encouraged by Theophilus Cibber, determined to
revolt from the patentee; and as the little theatre in the Haymarket
was then unoccupied, agreed to rent it from the proprietor, and
opened their campaign with the comedy of _Love for Love_, at which
they were attended by an elegant and crowded audience. The patentees,
though weakened by this desertion, began to act at the usual time.
To supply the place of those who had left their service, they had
recourse to such actors as could be procured from the itinerant
companies. With all the help they could obtain, their performances
were inferior to those exhibited at the Haymarket, and losses came so
heavy upon Mr. Highmore, that he was under the necessity of giving up
the contest, and sold the whole property to Mr. Charles Fleetwood for
about half the sum he had originally paid for it.'

Upon this circumstance is built the print from which the show-cloth
was copied; it probably announces the performance of a farce
entitled "_The Stage Mutineers_, a tragi-comic farcical ballad opera,
acted at Covent Garden in 1733;" which is a burlesque on the whole
contest. Theophilus Cibber, who was the leader of the malcontents,
is in this farce characterized by the name of Ancient Pistol, all
his speeches being in that high-flown mock-heroic style with which
Shakspeare has marked that boasting coward. The scene is supposed to
be in the playhouse, and the time, during a rehearsal.

In 1740, a pamphlet was published for J. Mechell, at the King's Arms,
Fleet Street, entitled, "_An Apology for the Life of T---- C----_,
Comedian; being a proper sequel to the Apology for the Life of Mr.
Colley Cibber; with an historical view of the stage to the present
year. Supposed to be written by himself, in the style and manner
of the poet-laureate:" but in reality the work of Harry Fielding.
The following passage, relative to this subject, occurs in page 16,
etc:--"In that year, when the stage fell into great commotions, and
the Drury Lane company, asserting the glorious cause of liberty and
property, made a stand against the oppressions of the patentees;--in
that memorable year, when the theatric dominions fell in labour of a
revolution, under the conduct of myself; that revolt gave occasion to
several pieces of wit and satirical flirts at the conductor of the
enterprise. I was attacked, as my father had been before me, in the
public papers and journals; and the burlesque character of Pistol was
attributed to me as a real one. Out came a print of Jack Laguerre's,
representing, in most vile designing, this expedition of ours, under
the name of 'The Stage Mutiny;' in which, gentle reader, your humble
servant, in the Pistol character, was the principal figure. This I
laughed at, knowing it only a proper embellishment for one of those
necessary structures to which persons out of necessity repair."
Again, p. 88: "At the fair of Bartholomew we gained some recruits;
but, besides those advantages over the enemy, I myself went there in
person, and publicly exposed myself. This was done to fling defiance
in the patentees' teeth; for, on the booth where I exhibited, I hung
out 'The Stage Mutiny,' with Pistol at the head of his troop; our
standard bearing the motto, 'We eat.'" Whether this account which
Cibber is made to give of his own conduct is entirely jocular, or
contains a mixture of truth and falsehood, cannot now be ascertained.
Hogarth may have transferred a circumstance from Bartholomew to
Southwark Fair; or Fielding, by design, may have misrepresented it,
alluding at the same time to Hogarth's print.

To return to the show-cloth. The figure seated in the corner, with
his head bound with laurel, is intended to represented old Cibber,
then poet-laureate. With a bag of money upon his knee, he rejoices
in the sum he has realized, and laughs at those who are enduring
the storm. Under his feet is inscribed "Quiet and snug." The tall,
thin figure, stooping, is meant for Mr. Highmore. He holds in his
hand a scroll, on which is written, "It cost 6000 pounds." He is
again characterized in the figure of a monkey astride the sign-iron
of the Rose Tavern, with a label, on which is written, "I am a
gentleman."[107]--The man in his shirt, with a paint-pot and brushes
at his feet, who takes up the cudgels for the new patentees, is
John Ellis the painter. He was the pupil of Sir James Thornhill,
deputy-manager for Mr. Wilkes, and principal scene painter to
the theatre. By the favour of the Duke of Montagu and Sir Robert
Walpole, he was appointed to be great master of the wardrobe, and
keeper of the lions in the Tower. He was much happier in attending
a pugilistic exhibition at Broughton's academy than in the exercise
of his profession. His figure appears muscular, but hardly leads
one to suppose, what is yet certainly a fact, that Rysbrack--when
he produced what Mr. Walpole very emphatically calls that exquisite
summary of his skill, knowledge, and judgment, the "Hercules,"
now in Mr. Hoare's temple at Stourhead--modelled the legs of the
god from those of Ellis.--The figure in the background, with a
tremendous plume of feathers, and a flowing periwig, grasping his
truncheon in a style of defiance, may be Mills, in the character of
Bajazet. On the flag which is borne between Mr. Highmore and Ellis,
is inscribed, "We'll starve them out." On that borne in the rear
of the seceders, on the opposite side, is written, "We eat." The
figure near it is probably intended to represent Johnson, in Sir
Hugh Evans; as that with a truncheon in his hand, who stands next
him, may be intended for Bardolph; but who the performer was, I am
not well enough versed in dramatic history to determine: it would
probably be known at that time, by the ends of two cudgels, which
rise in parallel lines immediately behind his head, and may perhaps
intimate that this gentleman, as well as Theophilus Cibber, was under
some obligations to his wife for giving him a title he was not born
with.--The Sir John Falstaff was certainly intended for Harper,[108]
who was eminent in that character; as Pistol, with the inscription,
"Pistol's alive," was indisputably meant for the younger Cibber. The
masculine gentlewoman, waving a flag on which is inscribed "Liberty
and Property," is, I think, clearly intended as a portraiture of
the notorious Mistress Doll Tearsheet; but who was the actress that
personated this fair friend of the fat knight, I really do not
know.[109]

The show-cloth underneath, with the tall figure and two spectators,
is a representation of Maximilian, a giant from Upper Saxony. That
with the wooden horse is explained by the inscription above it, "The
Siege of Troy is here." Mr. Victor, in an eulogium upon Boheme the
actor, says that "his first appearance was at a booth in Southwark
Fair, which in those days lasted two weeks, and was much frequented
by persons of all ranks and both sexes. He acted the part of
Menelaus, in the best droll I ever saw, called _The Siege of Troy_."

The Adam and Eve upon another show-cloth may probably allude to the
representation of somewhat compiled from an old mystery called _The
Creation_.[110]

The old puppet-show joke of Punch wheeling his wife into the jaws
of destruction, which is underneath, is well known. By the paper
lantern, dwarf drummer, and little figure at a temporary door, it
appears that the royal waxwork and whole Court of France are at the
Royal Oak.

It is a little remarkable, that in this almost endless variety of
holiday amusements there should be no exhibition of wild beasts[111]
or wonderful quadrupeds. A roaring lion, raging tiger, and fierce cat
a-mountain, would have had a large audience; and a learned pig or an
overgrown Lincolnshire ox might have made the proprietors' fortunes
at that time, as they have done at this.

The amusements of the fair at this period continued a fortnight,[112]
and were unquestionably attended with much loss of time, and
productive of some habits of dissipation among the lower ranks
of people who attended them. A visit to a family in the vicinity
must have been a delightful entertainment, and the pleasure much
heightened if the lady of the mansion happened to be fond of dumb
creatures. A whistle, drum, and trumpet, in the possession of three
little masters, with a barking lap-dog, screaming parrot, and canary
bird in full song, must form a concert of such heavenly harmony, as

      "Would bring an angel down!"

For those who delight in pointing out examples of Hogarth's bad
spelling, this print affords a fine field. The name of Cibber is
spelt with only one _b_. In the _Fall of Bajazet_, the _z_ appears to
have been originally an _s_. "We'l starve them out." The _e_ final in
waxworke, these syllable dissectors may perhaps deign to acknowledge
was then customary.

In my enumeration of some of the actors who appear on the show-cloth,
etc., I may sometimes be wrong: let it be received as conjecture
founded on the best information I could obtain; and let it be
remembered, that to procure positive information of circumstances
which happened near fifty years ago is not easy. The memoranda to
be found in magazines, and other perishable prints of the day, are
not always to be depended upon. Even now these authentic documents
sometimes lead those who implicitly believe them into error.[113]

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




A MIDNIGHT MODERN CONVERSATION.

      "Think not to find one meant resemblance there;
      We lash the vices, but the persons spare.
      Prints should be priz'd, as authors should be read,
      Who sharply smile prevailing Folly dead.
      So Rabelais laught, and so Cervantes thought;
      So Nature dictated what Art has taught."

[Illustration: MIDNIGHT MODERN CONVERSATION.]

Notwithstanding this inscription, which was engraved on the plate
some time after its publication, it is very certain that most of
these figures were intended for individual portraits; but Mr.
Hogarth, not wishing to be considered as a personal satirist, and
fearful of making enemies among his contemporaries, would never
acknowledge who were the characters. Some of them the world might
perhaps mistake; for though the author was faithful in delineating
whatever he intended to portray, complete intoxication so far
caricatures the countenance, that, according to the old though trite
proverb, "the man is not himself." His portrait, though given with
the utmost fidelity, will scarcely be known by his most intimate
friends, unless they have previously seen him in this degrading
disguise. Hence it becomes difficult to identify men whom the painter
did not choose to point out at the time; and sixty years having
elapsed, it becomes impossible,--for all who composed the group, with
the artist by whom it was delineated,

      "Shake hands with dust, and call the worm their kinsman."

Mrs. Piozzi told me that the divine with a corkscrew,[114]
occasionally used as a tobacco-stopper, hanging upon his little
finger, was the portrait of Parson Ford, Dr. Johnson's uncle; though
upon the authority of Sir John Hawkins, of anecdotish memory, it has
been generally supposed to be intended for Orator Henley.[115]

As I have been told that both these worthies were distinguished by
that clerical rubicundity of face with which it is marked, the reader
may decree the honour of a sitting to which he pleases. We may say of
either one or the other:

      "No loftier theme his thought pursues,
      Than punch, good company, and dues.
      Easy, and careless what may fall,
      He hears, assents, and fills to all;
      Proving it plainly by his face,
      That cassocks are no signs of grace."[116]

The roaring Bacchanalian who stands next him, waving his glass in
the air, has pulled off his wig, and in the zeal of his friendship
crowns the divine's head. He is evidently drinking destruction to
fanatics and success to Mother Church, or a mitre to the jolly parson
whom he addresses.

The lawyer who sits near him is a portrait of one Kettleby, a
vociferous bar-orator, who, though an utter barrister, chose to
distinguish himself by wearing an enormous full-bottom wig, in which
he is here represented. He was further remarkable for a diabolical
squint and a Satanic smile. In the _Causidicade_ are a number of
lines dedicated to the honour of this amiable person. They begin
with--

      "Up Kettleby starts with a horrible stare."

A poor maudlin miserable who is addressing him, when sober, must be
a fool; but, in this state, it would puzzle Lavater to assign him a
proper class. He seems endeavouring to demonstrate to the lawyer
that in a poi--poi--point of law he has been most cruelly cheated,
and lost a cau--cau--cause that he ought to have got,--and all this
was owing to his attorney being an infernal villain. This may very
probably be true; for the poor man's tears show that, like the
person relieved by the good Samaritan, he has been among thieves.
The barrister grins horribly at his misfortunes, and tells him he is
properly punished for not employing a gentleman.

Next to him sits a gentleman in a black periwig. He politely turns
his back to the company, that he may have the pleasure of smoking a
_sociable_ pipe.

The justice, "in fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,"--the
justice, having hung up his hat, wig, and cloak, puts on his
nightcap, and with a goblet of superior capacity before him, sits in
solemn cogitation. Meditating severe punishments on the dissolute
peasant who tipples ale or viler liquors, he resolves for the
future to act with magisterial harshness, that he may convince his
neighbours of his zeal for the law, and detestation of drunkenness.
His left elbow supported by the table and his right by a chair, with
a pipe in one hand and a stopper in the other, he puffs out the bland
vapour with the dignity of an alderman, and fancies himself as great
as Jupiter seated upon the summit of Mount Olympus, enveloped by the
thick cloud which his own breath has created.

With folded arms and open mouth another leans back in his chair.[117]
His wig is dropped from his head, and he is asleep: but though
speechless, he is sonorous; for you clearly perceive that where nasal
sounds are the music, he is qualified to be leader of the band.

The fallen hero, who with his chair and goblet has tumbled to the
floor, by the cockade in his hat we suppose to be an officer. His
forehead is marked, perhaps with honourable scars. To wash his wounds
and cool his head, the staggering apothecary bathes it with brandy.

A gentleman in the corner, who, from having the _Craftsman_ and
_London Evening_ in his pocket, we determine to be a politician, very
unluckily mistakes his ruffle for the bowl of his pipe, and sets fire
to it.

The person in a bag-wig and solitaire, with his hand upon his
head,[118] would not now pass for a fine gentleman, but in the year
1735 was a complete beau. Unaccustomed to such joyous company, he
appears to have drank rather more than agrees with him.

The company consists of eleven,[119] and on the chimney-piece, floor,
and table, are three-and-twenty empty flasks. These, added to a
bottle which the apothecary holds in his hand, prove that this select
society have not lost a moment. The overflowing bowl, full goblets,
and charged glasses, prove that they think "'tis too early to part,"
though the dial points to four in the morning!

      "What have we with day to do?
      Sons of Care, Sons of Care, 'twas made for you."

The clock, like the company, is irregular; for the minute finger and
hour hand do not agree. Over the chimney-piece is a picture, of which
we can discover enough to guess that it has once been a landscape;
but, like the understandings of the gentlemen present, is so obscured
by smoke and vapour as to appear a mere chaos, without one clear and
distinct form. The fumes of punch, the smoke of pipes, and effluvia
of candles sunk into the sockets, must render the air delightfully
balmy, and produce ambrosial fragrance.

The different degrees of drunkenness are well discriminated, and
its effects admirably described. The poor simpleton who is weeping
out his woes to honest lawyer Kettleby, it makes mawkish; the beau
it makes sick; and the politician it stupifies. One is excited to
roaring, and another lulled to sleep. It half closes the eyes of
justice, renders the footing of physic unsure, and lays prostrate the
glory of his country and the pride of war.

On the 22d of March 1742, for the benefit of Mr. Hippisley, was acted
at Covent Garden Theatre a new scene, called _A Modern Midnight
Conversation_, taken from Hogarth's print, in which was introduced
Hippisley's Drunken Man, with a comic tale of what really passed
between him and his old aunt, at her house on Mendip Hills, in
Somersetshire.

Having described the individuals of which this print is composed, let
us for a moment reflect upon the vice it is intended to satirize; and
considered in a moral point of view, it may have as good an effect as
the sight of an intoxicated slave had upon the young men of Sparta.
This people sometimes made a slave drunk, that their sons, disgusted
by the sight, might avoid the practice.

In a book published about a century and a half ago, I remember to
have read a tale, which recounteth that, "Once uponne a tyme, the
Divelle was permitted to tempte a yonge manne. Sathanne had noe
sooner power gyven hym, than hee didde appeere in the guyze of a
grave bencher of Graie's Inne, and didde tell himme that hee was
impoweryd to compelle hys doing one of these three thynges: eyther he
shoulde morthere his fathere, lie wythe his mothere, or gette dronke.
The young manne," saith my author, "shockyd atte the two first
proposycyons, didde ymbrace the laste. He gotte verie dronke, and in
thatte state, havying neyther the use of reasonne nor the dredde of
sinne, hee was guyltie offe bothe the unaturalle deedes hee hadde
before soe shudderydde atte, and for hys naughtinesse and wyckednesse
hee was hangydde."

I have been told that the original picture was some years since found
at an inn in Gloucestershire, and is now in the possession of J.
Calverley, Esq., of Leeds, in Yorkshire.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION.

      "Beneath this antique roof, this hallow'd shade,
      Where wearied rustics holy Sabbath keep,
      Compos'd as if on downy pillows laid,
      The sons and daughters of the hamlet sleep."

[Illustration: THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION.]

The shepherd is not much more awake than his sleeping flock, whose
appearance convinces us that, though there is no organ, there is much
melody. The nasal music of the congregation, joined to the languid
monotony of the preacher,[120] which sounds like the drowsy hum of
a drone bee, must form such a concert as neither Tubal Cain nor Sir
John Hawkins ever dreamed of. The text is perfectly applicable to the
audience, "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and
I will give you rest." His parishioners have not troubled themselves
much about the Greek version; good, easy men, they take these words
in their literal sense, and, after the toil of six days, find the
church a comfortable and convenient dormitory. By the preacher's
aspect and attitude, we are convinced that he would lull to soft
repose the most lively assembly that ever congregated in the
capital. How, then, must his manner operate here? As an opiate more
powerful than poppies. It is as composing as are the very descriptive
lines that conclude the second book of Pope's _Dunciad_; which are so
perfectly an echo to the sense, that they ought to be inscribed on
the front of the first temple which is dedicated to Somnus. He

                      "In one lazy tone,
      Through the long, heavy, painful page, drawls on.
      Soft creeping words on words the sense compose;
      At every line they stretch, they yawn, they doze.
      As to soft gales top-heavy pines bow low
      Their heads, and lift them as they cease to blow,
      Thus oft they rear, and oft the head decline,
      As breathe or pause by fits the airs divine:
      And now to this side, now to that they nod," etc.

The clerk,[121] infinitely more important than the divine, is kept
awake by contemplating the charms of a voluptuously blooming damsel,
who, in studying the Service of Matrimony, has sighed her soul to
rest. The eyes of this pronouncer of Amen are visibly directed to her.

In the pew opposite are five swains of the village;

      "Each mouth distended, and each head reclin'd,
      They soundly sleep."

To render this rural scene more pastoral, they are accompanied by
two women who have once been shepherdesses, and perhaps celebrated
by some neighbouring Theocritus as the Chloe and Daphne of their
day. Being now in the wane of their charms, poetical justice will
not allow us to give them any other appellation than old women. They
are awake. Whether the artist intended by this to show that they are
actuated by the spirit of contradiction, for the preacher entreats
them to go to rest, or meant it as a compliment to the softer sex,
as being more attentive than men, I cannot tell; let those who have
studied their characters more than I have, determine as seemeth best
in their eyes.

In the gallery are two men joining in chorus with the band below. One
of them has the decency to hide his face; but the other is evidently
in _full song_.

The heavy architecture and grotesque decorations lead us to
conjecture that this now venerable edifice was once the cottage of
Baucis and Philemon, so exquisitely described by Swift:

      "_Grown to a church by just degrees_--
      ---- The ballads pasted on the wall,
      Of _Joan of France_, and _English Moll_,
      _Fair Rosamond_, and _Robin Hood_,
      _The little Children in the Wood_,
      Now seem to look abundance better,
      Improv'd in picture, size, and letter,
      And, high in order plac'd, describe
      The heraldry of every tribe."

The "Children in the Wood" are now exalted above the Gothic windows.
One of them we see transformed to an angel; which, to prove its being
of a more exalted species, and no longer a mere mortal, has four
thighs.

      "The pretty Robin Redbreasts, which
      Did cover them with leaves,"

have undergone a transmigration much to their advantage. It has
somewhat sullied their plumage, but they have assumed a more
important appearance, and the loss of beauty is compensated by an
abundant increase in bulk and dignity. Exalted to the upper part of a
fluted pillar, and seated in heraldic state, they seem to mortal eyes
the emblems of wisdom, the symbols of Minerva.[122]

A lion and companion unicorn, concealed by the pillar, was originally
an headpiece to that excellent old ballad, beginning with

      "The fierce lyon of faire Englonde
      Didde swallowe the lillie of France."

With jaws extended wide enough to swallow a bed of lilies, he is one
of the supporters to the king's arms.

The pews carry evident marks of having been once a Gothic bedstead.
The cumbrous load of oak with which it was canopied, still supported
by large square posts, is become a gallery. The lower part retains
much of its original form, and answers its original purpose; but why
should I attempt to describe that which is already described by the
Dean?

      "A bedstead of the antique mode,
      Compact of timber many a load;
      Such as our ancestors did use,
      Is metamorphos'd into pews,
      Which still their ancient nature keep,
      Of lodging folks dispos'd to sleep."

The pulpit in which our dozing divine is groaning out the gospel, was
once a groaning-chair for the good wife of the cottage. The cushion
on which she sat for many a winter's eve is now ornamented with
tassels. The arm still retains its original form, though somewhat
more upright than when it served for a rest to the old dame's elbow.
Swift describes the exact manner of the metamorphosis:

      "The groaning-chair began to crawl,
      Like an huge snail against the wall;
      There stuck aloft, in public view,
      And with small change a pulpit grew."

The crutches, which erst supported Dame Baucis, now prop the clerk's
reading-desk.

The triangle, environed by a glory, was placed in the church by
old Philemon. In his youth he had been a very good carpenter, and,
when become a divine, retained so much of his original disposition
as to suppose he could explain an awful mystery by a mechanical
representation. The only misfortune which attended this curious
delineation was, that not one of his parishioners could understand
it: they however, were silent; they thought it too serious an affair
to dispute or call names about. It would perhaps have been as well if
many of our learned and right grave divines had been silent upon this
subject on the same principle.

Swift says that the jack was turned to a clock; in this circumstance
he must have been mistaken, for the hour-glass, which was the
constant companion of Dame Baucis at her wheel, retains its old form,
and is placed at the parson's left hand.[123] Underneath it is the
following applicable inscription from St. Paul's Epistle to the
Galatians: "I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour
in vain."

The windows are evidently intended for companions, but there is a
considerable difference in their proportions, panes of glass, etc.
At the time this massy temple was erected, our countrymen neither
studied Vitruvius, nor considered uniformity as a requisite in
architecture.

This print was published on the 26th of October 1736; but we learn,
by an inscription on the sinister side of the plate, that on the 21st
April 1762 it was retouched and improved by the author.

There is a printed copy, tolerably executed, but not quite so large,
nor has it any price affixed beneath.

The original picture was in Sir Edward Walpole's collection; who is
the present proprietor I do not know. There are some variations in
it; the face of the clerk is different from the print, and he does
not appear leering at the girl, but, to keep in unison with the rest
of the congregation, is half asleep.




THE DISTRESSED POET.

      "Furnish'd with paper, pen, and ink,
      He gravely sat him down--to think:
      He bit his nails, and scratch'd his head,
      But wit and fancy both were dead:
      Or, if with more than usual pain,
      A thought came slowly from his brain,
      It cost him Lord knows how much time
      To shape it into sense or rhyme;
      And what was yet a greater curse,
      Long thinking made his fancy worse."

[Illustration: THE DISTRESSED POET.]

Such is the fate of many a miserable scribbler who usurps the sacred
name of a poet. Parnassus must be peopled, and the fashionable
versifiers that have no other aim than feeding on the mountain
have sometimes cropped better pasturage at the foot of the hill
than has been found by those hallowed bards who have attained the
summit. Of gentle readers that demand the strains of gentle writers,
there are in this our city an innumerable host. They are sober and
well-disposed persons, good subjects to their king, and useful
members of the community; but being by their various avocations
confined to a smoky town, are debarred from the cheering prospects
of purling streams, waving woods, and shady groves. They have
nevertheless great comfort and delectation in reading descriptions
of scenes so profusely beautified with the amenities of nature.
Happily for such admirers of rural simplicity, there is a band of
pastoral poets who make the press groan with description. Seated
like this unfortunate labourer of the Muses in their attic storey,
and scarcely ever seeing a green tree except in the Moorfields Mall,
they daily present the public with amplifications of verdant meads,
glistening dew-drops, and liquid rains. In the sublime strains of
these gentlemen,

      "The misty mountains lift their cloud-capt heads;
      The enamell'd mead its velvet carpet spreads;
      The groves appear all drest with wreaths of flowers,
      And from their leaves drop aromatic showers."[124]

Upon the same principle with our town-made rhymers, who have
generally written about things which they have neither seen, felt,
heard, nor understood, this our distressed poet is now spinning a
poem upon riches. Of their use he probably knoweth little; and of
their abuse, if judgment can be formed from externals, certes he
knoweth less.

Seated upon the side of his bed, without a shirt, but wrapped
in an old night-gown,--enchanted, impressed, inspired with his
subject,--he is disturbed by a nymph of the Lactarium. Her shrill
sounding voice awakes one of the little loves, whose chorus disturbs
his meditations. A link of the golden chain is broken!--a thought is
lost! To recover it, his hand becomes a substitute for the barber's
comb: enraged at the noise, he tortures his head for the fleeting
idea; but, ah! no thought is there!

Proudly conscious that the lines already written are sterling, he
possesses by anticipation the mines of Peru, a view of which hangs
over his head. Upon the table we see Byshe's _Art of Poetry_;[125]
for, like the packhorse who cannot travel without his bells, he
cannot climb the hill of Parnassus without his jingling-book. On
the floor lies the _Grub Street Journal_,[126] to which valuable
repository of genius and taste he is probably a contributor. To show
that he is a master of the profound, and will envelope his subject
in a cloud, his pipe and tobacco-box--those friends to cogitation
deep--are close to him.

His wife, mending that part of his dress in the pockets of which the
affluent keep their gold, is worthy of a better fate. Her figure
is peculiarly interesting.[127] Her face, softened by adversity,
and marked with domestic care, is at this moment agitated by the
appearance of a boisterous woman, insolently demanding payment of the
milk-tally. In the excuse she returns, there is a mixture of concern,
complacency, and mortification. As an addition to the distresses
of this poor family, a dog is stealing the remnant of mutton
incautiously left upon a chair.

The sloping roof and projecting chimney prove the throne of this
inspired bard to be high above the crowd;--it is a garret. The
chimney is ornamented with a dare for larks; and a book, a loaf, the
tea-equipage, and a saucepan, decorate the shelf. Before the fire
hangs half a shirt and a pair of ruffled sleeves. His sword lies on
the floor; for though our professor of poetry waged no war, except
with words, a sword was in the year 1740 a necessary appendage
to every thing which called itself gentleman. At the feet of his
domestic seamstress, the full-dress coat is become the resting-place
of a cat and two kittens: in the same situation is one stocking; the
other is half immersed in the washing-pan. The broom, bellows, and
mop are scattered round the room. The open door shows us that their
cupboard is unfurnished, and tenanted by an hungry and solitary
mouse. In the corner hangs a long cloak, well calculated to conceal
the threadbare wardrobe of its fair owner.

Mr. Hogarth's strict attention to propriety of scenery is evinced by
the cracked plastering of the walls, broken window, and uneven floor,
in the miserable habitation of this poor weaver of madrigals.[128]

The original picture is in the collection of Lord Grosvenor.




THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.

      "With thundering noise the azure vault they tear,
      And rend, with savage roar, the echoing air:
      The sounds terrific he with horror hears;
      His fiddle throws aside,--and stops his ears."--E.

[Illustration: THE ENRAGED MUSICIAN.]

The last plate displayed the distress of a poet; in this the
artist has exhibited the rage of a musician. Our poor bard bore
his misfortunes with patience, and, rich in his Muse, did not much
repine at his poverty. Not so this master of harmony--of heavenly
harmony! To the evils of poverty he is now a stranger; his _adagios_
and _cantabiles_ have procured him the protection of nobles; and,
contrary to the poor shirtless mendicant of the Muses that we left in
a garret, he is arrayed in a coat decorated with frogs, a bag-wig,
solitaire, and ruffled shirt. Waiting in the chamber of a man of
fashion, whom he instructs in the divine science of music, having
first tuned his instrument, he opens his crotchet-book, shoulders his
violin, flourishes his fiddlestick, and

      "Softly sweet, in Lydian measure,
      Soon he soothes his soul to pleasure."

Rapt in Elysium at the divine symphony, he is awakened from his
beatific vision by noises that distract him:

                "An universal hubbub wild,
      Of stunning sounds, and voices all confus'd,
      Assails his ears with loudest vehemence."

Confounded with the din, and enraged by the interruption, our modern
Terpander starts from his seat, and opens the window. This operates
as air to a kindling fire; and such a combination of noises burst
upon the auricular nerve that he is compelled to stop his ears,--but
to stop the torrent is impossible!

        "A louder yet, and yet a louder strain,
      Break his bands of thought asunder!
      And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder,
        At the horrible sound
          He has rais'd up his head,
          As awak'd from the dead,
        And amazed he stares all around."

In this situation he is delineated; and those who for a moment
contemplate the figures before him, cannot wonder at his rage:

      "A crew of hell-hounds never ceasing bark,
      With wide Cerberean mouth, full loud, and ring
      A hideous peal."

Of the _dramatis personæ_ who perform the vocal parts, the first is
a fellow in a tone that would rend hell's concave, bawling, "Dust,
ho! dust, ho! dust!" Next to him, an amphibious animal, who nightly
pillows his head on the sedgy bosom of old Thames, in a voice that
emulates the rush of many waters, or the roaring of a cataract, is
bellowing, "Flounda-a-a-rs!" A daughter of May-day, who dispenses
what in London is called milk, and is consequently a _milkmaid_, in
a note pitched at the very top of her voice, is crying, "Be-louw!"
While a ballad-singer dolefully drawls out _The Ladie's Fall_, an
infant in her arms joins its treble pipe in chorus with the screaming
parrot, which is on a lamp-iron over her head. On the roof of an
opposite house are two cats, performing what an amateur of music
might perhaps call a _bravura_ duet; near them appears

      A sweep, shrill twittering on the chimney-top.

A little French drummer, singing to his rub-a-dub, and the agreeable
yell of a dog, complete the vocal performers.

Of the instrumental, a fellow blowing a horn with a violence that
would have almost shaken down the walls of Jericho claims the first
notice; next to him, the dustman rattles his bell with ceaseless
clangour, until the air reverberates the sound.

The intervals are filled up by a pavior, who to every stroke of his
rammer adds a loud, distinct, and echoing "Haugh!" The pedestrian
cutler is grinding a butcher's cleaver with such earnestness and
force, that it elicits sparks of fire. This, added to the agonizing
howls of his unfortunate dog, must afford a perfect specimen of
the ancient chromatic. The poor animal,[129] between a man and a
monkey, piping harsh discords upon a hautboy, the girl whirling her
_crepitaculum_, or rattle, and the boy beating his drum, conclude the
catalogue of this harmonious band.

Thus much we may be almost said to hear; and we see, by the flag
displayed at the church, that the fanciers of corals for grown
gentlemen are performing a round of double bob-majors in the belfry.
"John Long, pewterer," is inscribed over a door, and intimates the
business going on in the house, where the strokes of some thirty or
forty hammers ringing incessantly upon pewter, produce a sound more
sonorous than that which is echoed from the forge of Vulcan.

This delineation originated in a story which was told to Hogarth by
the late Mr. John Festin,[130] who is the hero of the print. He was
eminent for his skill in playing upon the German flute and hautboy,
and much employed as a teacher of music. To each of his scholars he
devoted one hour each day. "At nine o'clock in the morning," said
he, "I once waited upon my Lord Spencer; but his lordship being out
of town, from him I went to Mr. V----n, now Lord V----n. It was so
early, that he was not arisen. I went into his chamber, and, opening
a shutter, sat down in the window-seat. Before the rails was a
fellow playing upon the hautboy. A man with a barrow full of onions
offered the piper an onion if he would play him a tune. That ended,
he offered a second onion for a second tune; the same for a third,
and was going on: but this was too much,--I could not bear it,--it
angered my very soul--'Zounds!' said I, 'stop here! This fellow is
ridiculing my profession--he is playing on the hautboy for onions!'"

The whole of this _bravura_ scene is admirably represented. A person
quaintly enough observed that it deafens one to look at it.

The roar of the fisherman, with one hand so placed as to become
a sort of sounding-board, and give reverberation, is admirably
depicted. You perceive that he has, professionally speaking, not
merely a _volume_, but a _folio volume_ of voice. As well as that
of the dustman, it is a thorough bass; and, added to the tenor and
treble of the other performers, must form a concert, though not quite
so harmonious, yet nearly as loud, as those which have been graced
with the royal presence in Westminster Abbey.

The scene seems to be taken from the lower part of St. Martin's Lane;
it is certainly intended to represent the steeple of St. Martin's
Church.

A heap of bricks, scientifically piled up close to the little girl,
have been said to be a contrivance of some boy to catch birds. Is it
not more likely that the modern architecture of this little Babel, as
well as the adjoining plantation and pond, originated in the united
efforts of the young lady and young gentleman in a corner cap? The
latter has been dragging a slate fastened to a string, and tied round
his waist, over a rough pavement, that he also might make _a pretty
noise_.

A play-bill on the wall describes the unaccountable run of that
very popular and pernicious performance, _The Beggar's Opera_, to
have been sixty-two nights. In a copy of this opera, published in
1729, the _dramatis personæ_ are printed as here written; and the
good fortune which followed Miss Fenton's attractions in Polly are
universally known.

The figures are well grouped and judiciously characterized: those
in the background have great force; but the boy with a drum is ill
drawn, and the milk-pail is too large.

In the _London Daily Post_ for November 24, 1740, is the following
advertisement:--"Shortly will be published, a new print, called
_The Provoked Musician_, designed and engraved by Mr. William
Hogarth; being a companion to a print representing a Distressed
Poet, published some time since. To which will be added, a third on
painting, which will complete the set; but as this subject may turn
upon an affair depending between the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor and
the author, it may be retarded for some time."

Humphry Parsons was at that time Lord Mayor; but the business alluded
to not being in the city records, must remain obscure until some one
who knows more about it than I do shall explain it.

In Dr. Beattie's _Essay on Laughter and Ludicrous Composition_,
quarto edition, p. 608, speaking of the modes of combination by which
incongruous qualities may be presented to the eye or the fancy, so as
to provoke laughter, he observes, that "this extraordinary group form
a very comical mixture of incongruity and relation: of incongruity,
owing to the dissimilar employment and appearances of the several
persons, and to the variety of dissonance of their respective noises;
and of relation, owing to their being all united in the same place,
and for the same purpose of tormenting the poor fiddler. From the
various sounds co-operating to this one end, the piece becomes more
laughable than if their meeting were conceived to be without any
particular destination; for the greater number of relations, as well
as of contrarieties, that take place in any ludicrous assembly,
the more ludicrous it will generally appear. Yet though this group
comprehends not any mixture of meanness and dignity, it would, I
think, be allowed to be laughable to a certain degree, merely from
the juxtaposition of the objects, even though it were supposed to be
accidental."

Of the immense fortunes realized by the Italian professors of music,
we have many examples in this island; but the success of Lully, in
France, was greater than any of his countrymen ever experienced here.
He was by birth a Florentine. By his fiddle and his impudence, he
raised himself from the Queen of France's kitchen to be chief of the
band of music, and carried the art to a degree of perfection hitherto
unknown in that kingdom. Louis XIV. gave him letters of nobility, and
on his account enacted that the profession of music should consist
with the quality of a gentleman. He died by excessive drinking, and
left an immense fortune. The nobleman who had entertained him when
he drank what proved his _quietus_, paying him a visit, "Ah! my
lord," said his wife, with a deep sigh, "you are the last who made
my husband drunk." Lully, who was dying, heard the remark, and had
just voice enough left to add, "He shall be the first who makes me so
again, when I get upon my legs!"

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY.


In the "Progress of an Harlot," and the "Adventures of a Rake," Mr.
Hogarth displayed his powers of painting history. Holding the mirror
up to Nature, he shows

  "Virtue her own feature, Vice her own image, and the very age and
  body of the time his form and pressure."

Had he exhibited no other specimen of his art, these fourteen prints
would have given him a right to the title of a moral painter; and
thus was he denominated by the late Mr. Fielding, in his _Adventures
of Joseph Andrews_.

In the series before us he treads poetic ground. A description of the
day, particularly the morning, has been generally deemed the bard's
peculiar province. Considering Homer as the father of poesy, the
whole family of Apollo have echoed his notes, and run their divisions
of fancy upon his scale. With one of them,

      "The morn, wak'd by the circling hours,
      Unbars the gates of light."

With another, she "sows the earth with orient pearl." At one time,
with a star as her gentleman usher, she

      "Draws night's humid curtains, and proclaims
      The new-born day forth dawning from the east;"

is now the grey Aurora, then the meek-ey'd morn, array'd in a dewy
robe, with saffron streamers, placed in a glittering chariot, and
drawn by etherial coursers, where, holding the reins with her red
hands, _she drives the day_.

These heathenish descriptions may be very beautiful in their way; but
hear our own Shakspeare:

      "Night's tapers are burnt out, and jocund day
      Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain's top."

Again:

      "The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
      And 'gins to pale her ineffectual fire."

This comes home to all men's business and bosoms: it is picturesque,
it is poetical; it is intelligible to the peasant or the philosopher,
to the classic admirer of ancient mythology, or the man who never
heard that the gates which Aurora unbars are made of the purest
crystal.

The pictures drawn by Homer, and those feeble imitators who debase
his splendid images by the mixture of their own dross, have their
scenes laid in the country; but Hogarth has represented his _dramatis
personæ_ in the centre of a great city. Had the learned author of
_Hudibras_ been a painter, I believe he would have done the same. It
will not be easy to select two lines that have more wit than his
description of the morning:

      "Now, like a lobster boil'd, the morn
      From black to red began to turn."

This is appropriate to either city or country.

In Mr. Hogarth's "Four Times of the Day" there is only one scene
laid out of town; and that may, I think, be properly enough called
a London pastoral, for it is at the pleasant village of Islington.
The three others are described as in the most public parts of the
metropolis, and exhibit a picture which will give a very correct idea
of the dresses and pursuits of the inhabitants of London in the year
1738.


MORNING.

      "Keen blows the blast, and eager is the air;
        With flakes of feather'd snow the ground is spread;
      To step, with mincing pace, to early prayer,
        Our clay-cold vestal leaves her downy bed.
             *       *       *       *       *
      And here the reeling sons of Riot see,
      After a night of senseless revelry.
             *       *       *       *       *
      Poor,--trembling,--old,--her suit the beggar plies;
      But _frozen chastity_ the little boon denies."--E.

[Illustration: MORNING.]

This withered representative of Miss Bridget Alworthy, with a
shivering footboy carrying her prayer-book, never fails in her
attendance at morning service. She is a symbol of the season,

                          "Chaste as the icicle
      That's curdled by the frost from purest snow,
      And hangs on Dian's temple,"

she looks with scowling eye, and all the conscious pride of severe
and stubborn virginity, on the poor girls who are suffering the
embraces of two drunken beaux that are just staggered out of Tom
King's Coffeehouse. One of them, from the basket on her arm, I
conjecture to be an orange girl: she shows no displeasure at the
boisterous salute of her Hibernian lover. That the hero in a laced
hat is from the banks of the Shannon, is apparent in his countenance.
The female whose face is partly concealed, and whose neck has a more
easy turn than we always see in the works of this artist, is not
formed of the most inflexible materials.

An old woman, seated upon a basket; the girl, warming her hands by a
few withered sticks that are blazing on the ground; and a wretched
mendicant,[131] wrapped in a tattered and party-coloured blanket,
entreating charity from the rosy-fingered vestal who is going to
church, complete the group. Behind them, at the door of Tom King's
Coffeehouse, are a party engaged in a fray likely to create business
for both surgeon and magistrate; we discover swords and cudgels in
the combatants' hands.

On the opposite side of the print are two little schoolboys. That
they have shining morning faces we cannot positively assert, but each
has a satchel at his back, and, according with the description given
by the poet of nature, is

      "Creeping like snail unwillingly to school."

The lantern appended to the woman who has a basket on her head,
proves that these dispensers of the riches of Pomona rise before
the sun, and do part of their business by an artificial light. Near
her, that immediate descendant of Paracelsus, Doctor Rock,[132] is
expatiating to an admiring audience on the never-failing virtues
of his wonder-working medicines. One hand holds a bottle of his
miraculous panacea, and the other supports a board, on which is the
king's arms, to indicate that his practice is sanctioned by royal
letters patent. Two porringers and a spoon, placed on the bottom of
an inverted basket, intimate that the woman seated near them is a
vendor of rice-milk, which was at that time brought into the market
every morning.

A fatigued porter leans on a rail; and a blind beggar is going
towards the church: but whether he will become one of the
congregation, or take his stand at the door, in the hope that
religion may have warmed the hearts of its votaries to "pity the
sorrows of a poor blind man," is uncertain.

The clock in the front of Inigo Jones' barn has the motto, "SIC
TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI." Had Mr. Hervey of Weston Favel written upon
the works of Hogarth, he would have expatiated for ten pages upon
the relation which this motto has to the smoke which is issuing from
the chimney beneath; he would have written about it, and about it,
and told his readers that the glory of this world is typified by the
smoke, and like the smoke it passeth away; that man himself is a mere
vapour, etc. etc. etc.

Snow on the ground, and icicles hanging from the pent-house, exhibit
a very chilling prospect; but, to dissipate the cold, there is
happily a shop where spirituous liquors are sold _pro bono publico_,
at a very little distance. A large pewter measure is placed upon
a post before the door, and three of a smaller size hung over the
window of the house.

The character of the principal figure[133] is admirably delineated.
She is marked with that prim and awkward formality which generally
accompanies her order, and is an exact type of a hard winter; for
every part of her dress, except the flying lappets and apron, ruffled
by the wind, is as rigidly precise as if it were frozen. Extreme cold
is very well expressed in the slipshod footboy,[134] and the girl
who is warming her hands. The group of which she is a part is well
formed, but not sufficiently balanced on the opposite side.

The church dial, a few minutes before seven; marks of little shoes
and pattens in the snow; and various productions of the season in
the market, are an additional proof of that minute accuracy with
which this artist inspected and represented objects which painters in
general have neglected.

Covent Garden is the scene, but in the print every building is
reversed.[135] This was a common error with Hogarth; not from his
being ignorant of the use of the mirror, but from his considering it
as a matter of little consequence.

The propriety of exhibiting a scene of riot in Tom King's Coffeehouse
is proved by the following quotation from the _Weekly Miscellany_
for June 9, 1739:--"_Monday_, Mrs. Mary King, of Covent Garden, was
brought up to the King's Bench bar, at Westminster, and received the
following sentence for keeping a disorderly house, viz. to pay a
fine of two hundred pounds, to suffer three months' imprisonment, to
find security for her good behaviour for three years, and to remain
in prison till the fine be paid." When her imprisonment ended, she
retired from trade, built three houses on Haverstock Hill, near
Hampstead, and in one of them, on the 10th of September 1747, she
died. Her mansion was afterwards the residence of Nancy Dawson, and
with the two others constitutes what is still distinguished by the
appellation of Moll King's Row.


NOON.

      "Hail, Gallia's daughters! easy, brisk, and free;
      Good-humour'd, _debonnaire_, and _degagée_:
      Though still fantastic, frivolous, and vain,
      Let not their airs and graces give us pain:
      Or fair, or brown, at toilet, prayer, or play,
      Their motto speaks their manners,--'_Toujours gai_.'
        But for that powder'd compound of grimace,
      That capering he-she thing of fringe and lace;
      With sword and cane, with bag and solitaire,
      Vain of the full-dress'd dwarf,--his hopeful heir,
      How does our spleen and indignation rise,
      When such a tinsell'd coxcomb meets our eyes,
      So twisted out of God and Nature's plan,--
      Yet know that coxcomb must be call'd a man!"--E.

[Illustration: NOON.]

Among the figures who are coming out of church, an affected,
flighty Frenchwoman, with her fluttering fop of an husband, and a
boy, habited _à-la-mode de Paris_, claim our first attention. In
dress, air, and manner, they have a national character. The whole
congregation, whether male or female, old or young, carry the air
of their country in countenance, dress, and deportment. Like the
three principal figures, they are all marked with some affected
peculiarity. Affectation in a woman is supportable upon no other
ground than that general indulgence we pay to the omnipotence of
beauty, which in a degree sanctifies whatever it adopts. In a boy,
when we consider that the poor fellow is attempting to copy what he
has been taught to believe praiseworthy, we laugh at it--the largest
portion of ridicule falls upon his tutors; but in a man, it is
contemptible!

The old fellow in a black periwig has a most vinegar-like aspect, and
looks with great contempt at the frippery gentlewoman immediately
before him. The woman with a demure countenance seems very piously
considering how she can contrive to pick the embroidered beau's
pocket. Two old sibyls joining their withered lips in a chaste
salute, is nauseous enough, but, being a national custom, must be
forgiven. The divine seems to have resided in this kingdom long
enough to acquire a roast-beef countenance. A little boy, whose
woollen night-cap is pressed over a most venerable flowing periwig,
and the decrepid old man, leaning upon a crutch-stick, who is walking
before him, I once considered as two vile caricatures, out of nature,
and unworthy the artist. Since I have seen the peasantry of Flanders
and the plebeian youth of France, I have in some degree changed my
opinion, but still think them rather _outré_.

Under a sign of the Baptist's Head is written, "Good Eating;" and
on each side of the inscription is a mutton chop. In opposition to
this head without a body, unaccountably displayed as a sign at an
eating-house, there is a body without a head, hanging out as the
sign of a distiller's. This, by common consent, has been quaintly
denominated "The Good Woman."[136] At a window above, one of
the _softer sex_ proves her indisputable right to the title by her
temperate conduct to her husband, with whom having had a little
disagreement, she throws their Sunday's dinner into the street.

A girl, bringing a pie from the bakehouse, is stopped in her career
by the rude embraces of a blackamoor, who eagerly rubs his sable
visage against her blooming cheek.

Good eating is carried on to the lower part of the picture. A
boy,[137] placing a baked pudding upon a post with rather too
violent an action, the dish breaks, the fragments fall to the
ground; and while he is loudly lamenting his misfortune, and with
tears anticipating his punishment, the smoking remnants are eagerly
snatched up by a poor girl. Not educated according to the system of
Jean Jacques Rousseau, she feels no qualms of conscience about the
original proprietor, and destitute of that fastidious delicacy which
destroys the relish of many a fine lady, eagerly swallows the hot and
delicious morsels with all the concomitants.

The scene is laid at the door of a French chapel in Hog Lane,--a part
of the town at that time almost wholly peopled by French refugees or
their descendants.

A kite blown from an adjacent field,[138] being entangled on the
roof of the chapel, hangs pendant on the wall. One of Mr. Hogarth's
commentators asserts, that "this is introduced only to break
the disagreeable uniformity of a wall."[139] It certainly has
that effect; but Hogarth so rarely presents any object without a
particular and pointed allusion, that I am inclined to think he had
some other meaning. May it not be designed to intimate that the good
people who compose the congregation, after being blown out of their
own country by a religious storm, found a peaceful harbour under this
roof, safely sheltered from the hurricanes of enthusiasm and the
blasts of superstition?

By the dial of St. Giles' Church, in the distance, we see that it
is only half-past eleven. At this early hour, in those good times,
there was as much good eating as there is now at six o'clock in the
evening. From twenty pewter measures, which are hung up before the
houses of different distillers, it seems that good drinking was
considered as equally worthy of their serious attention.

The dead cat and choked kennels mark the little attention shown to
the streets by the scavengers of St. Giles'. At that time noxious
effluvia was not peculiar to this parish. The neighbourhood of Fleet
Ditch, and many other parts of the city, were equally polluted.

Even at this refined period, there would be some use in a more
strict attention to the medical police of a city so crowded with
inhabitants. We ridicule the people of Paris and Edinburgh for
neglecting so essential and salutary a branch of delicacy, while the
kennels of a street in the vicinity of St. Paul's Church are floated
with the blood of slaughtered animals every market day. Moses would
have managed these things better: but in those days there was no
_physician in Israel_!


EVENING.

      "One sultry Sunday, when no cooling breeze
      Was borne on Zephyr's wing to fan the trees;
      One sultry Sunday, when the torrid ray
      O'er nature beam'd intolerable day;
      When raging Sirius warn'd us not to roam,
      And Galen's sons prescrib'd--cool draughts at home;
      One sultry Sunday, near those fields of fame
      Where weavers dwell, and Spital is their name,
      A sober wight, of reputation high
      For tints that emulate the Tyrian dye,
      Wishing to take his afternoon's repose
      In easy-chair, had just began to doze,
      When, in a voice that sleep's soft slumbers broke,
      His oily helpmate thus her wishes spoke:
      "'Why, spouse, for shame!--my stars! what's this about?
      You's ever sleeping!--come, we'll all go out;--
      At that there garden,--pr'ythee, do not stare!--
      We'll take a mouthful of the country air;
      In the yew bower an hour or two we'll kill;
      There you may smoke, and drink what punch you will.
      Sophy and Billy each shall walk with me,
      And you must carry little Emily.
      Veny is sick, and pants, and loathes her food;
      The grass will do the pretty creature good.
      Hot rolls are ready as the clock strikes five--
      And now 'tis after four, as I'm alive!'

      "The mandate issued, see the tour begun,
      And all the flock set out for Islington.
        Now the broad sun, refulgent lamp of day,
      To rest with Thetis, slopes his western way,
      O'er every tree embrowning dust is spread,
      And tipt with gold is Hampstead's lofty head.
        The passive husband, in his nature mild,
      To wife consigns his hat, and takes the child;
      But she,--a day like this hath never felt--
      'Oh! that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
      Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!'--
      Such monstrous heat--dear me!--she never knew.
      'Adown her innocent and beauteous face,
      The big, round pearly drops each other chase;'
      Thence trickling to those hills, erst white as snow,
      That now like Ætna's mighty mountains glow,
      They hang like dew-drops on the full-blown rose,
      And to the ambient air their sweets disclose.
      Fever'd with pleasure, thus she drags along;
      Nor dares her antler'd husband say 'tis wrong;
        The blooming offspring of this blissful pair,
      In all their parents' attic pleasures share.
      Sophy the soft, the mother's earliest joy,
      Demands her froward brother's tinsell'd toy;
      But he, enrag'd, denies the glittering prize,
      And rends the air with loud and piteous cries.
        Thus far we see the party on their way;
      What dire disasters mark'd the close of day,
      'Twere tedious, tiresome, endless to obtrude:
      Imagination must the scene conclude."--E.

[Illustration: EVENING.]

It is not easy to imagine fatigue better delineated than in
the appearance of this amiable pair. In a few of the earliest
impressions, Mr. Hogarth printed the hands of the man in blue, to
show that he was a dyer, and the face and neck of the woman in red,
to intimate her extreme heat.[140] The lady's aspect lets us at once
into her character; we are certain that she was born to command. As
to her husband, "God made him, and he must pass for a man;" what
his wife has made him is indicated by the cow's horns, which are so
placed as to become his own. The hope of the family, with a cockade
in his hat, and riding upon papa's cane, seems much dissatisfied with
female sway. A face with more of the shrew in embryo than that of the
girl, it is scarcely possible to conceive. Upon such a character, the
most casual observer pronounces with the decision of a Lavater.

Nothing can be better imagined than the group in the alehouse. They
have taken a refreshing walk into the country, and, being determined
to have a cooling pipe, seat themselves in a chair-lumbered closet
with a low ceiling; where every man pulling off his wig, and throwing
a pocket-handkerchief over his head, inhales the fume of hot punch,
the smoke of half a dozen pipes, and the dust from the road. If this
is not rural felicity, what is? The old gentleman in a black bag-wig,
and the two women near him, sensibly enough, take their seats in the
open air.

From a woman milking a cow, we conjecture the hour to be about five
in the afternoon; and from the same circumstance, I am inclined to
think this agreeable party are going to their pastoral bower rather
than returning from it.

The cow and dog appear as much inconvenienced by heat as any of the
party: the former is whisking off the flies; and the latter creeps
unwillingly along, and casts a longing look at the crystal river in
which he sees his own shadow. A remarkably hot summer is intimated
by the luxuriant state of a vine creeping over an alehouse window.
On the side of the New River, where the scene is laid, lies one of
the wooden pipes employed in the waterworks. Opposite Sadler's Wells
there still remains a sign[141] of Sir Hugh Middleton's head, which
is here represented.

This print is engraved by Baron, but some touches of Mr. Hogarth's
_burin_ are visible on the faces.

Dr. Johnson, I think it is, who observes, that an ardent pursuit of
pleasure generally defeats its own purpose; for when we have wasted
days and nights, and exhausted our strength in the chase, it eludes
our grasp, and vanishes from our view.


NIGHT.

      "Now burst the blazing bonfires on the sight,
        Through the wide air their coruscations play;
      The windows beam with artificial light,
        And all the region emulates the day.

      "The moping mason, from yon tavern led,
        In mystic words doth to the moon complain
      That unsound port distracts his aching head,
        And o'er the waiter waves his clouded cane."--E.

[Illustration: NIGHT.]

Mr. Walpole very truly observes, that this print is inferior to the
three others; there is, however, broad humour in some of the figures.

The wounded freemason, who, in zeal of brotherly love, has drank
his bumpers to the craft till he is unable to find his way home, is
under the guidance of a waiter. This has been generally considered as
intended for Sir Thomas de Veil, and, from an authenticated portrait
which I have seen, I am inclined to think it is, notwithstanding Sir
John Hawkins asserts that "he could discover no resemblance." When
the knight saw him in his magisterial capacity, he was probably sober
and sedate: here he is represented a little disguised. The British
Xantippe showering her favours from the window upon his head, may
have its source in that respect which the inmates of such houses
as the Rummer Tavern had for a justice of peace.[142]

The waiter who supports his worship seems, from the patch upon his
forehead, to have been in a recent affray; but what use he can have
for a lantern it is not easy to divine, unless he is conducting
his charge to some place where there is neither moonlight nor
illumination.

The Salisbury flying coach oversetting and broken, by passing through
the bonfire, is said to be an intended burlesque upon a right
honourable peer, who was accustomed to drive his own carriage over
hedges, ditches, and rivers; and has been sometimes known to drive
three or four of his maid-servants into a deep water, and there leave
them in the coach to shift for themselves.

The butcher and little fellow who are assisting the terrified
passengers, are possibly _free_ and _accepted_ masons. One of them
seems to have a mop in his hand;--the pail is out of sight!

To crown the joys of the populace, a man with a pipe in his mouth is
filling a capacious hogshead with British Burgundy.

The joint operation of shaving and bleeding, performed by a drunken
'prentice on a greasy oilman, does not seem a very natural exhibition
on a rejoicing night.

The poor wretches under the barber's bench display a prospect of
penury and wretchedness which I hope is not so common now as it was
then.

In the distance is a cart laden with furniture, which some
unfortunate tenant is removing out of the reach of his landlord's
execution.

There is humour in the barber's sign and inscription: "Shaving,
bleeding, and teeth drawn with a touch. _Ecce signum!_"

The Rummer Tavern still retains its old situation. It was then
quaintly distinguished as the NEW BAGNIO.

By the oaken boughs on the sign, and the oak leaves in the
freemasons' hats, it seems that this rejoicing night is the 29th of
May, the anniversary of our second Charles's restoration; that happy
day when, according to our excellent old ballad, "the king enjoyed
his own again." This might be one reason for the artist choosing a
scene contiguous to the beautiful equestrian statue[143] of Charles
I.

In the distance we see a house on fire,--an accident very likely to
happen on such a night as this.

The original pictures of "Morning" and "Noon" were sold to the Duke
of Ancaster for fifty-seven guineas; "Evening" and "Night" to Sir
William Heathcote for sixty-four guineas.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




STROLLING PLAYERS.


As the Act prohibiting performance of any play or interlude which was
not sanctioned by the Lord Chamberlain passed about the time that
this print was published, and is particularly referred to in the
engraving, a short view of the English drama, and the circumstances
which occasioned the Bill's being brought into the House of Commons,
seems immediately connected with the subject.

Our first theatrical exhibitions had a religious tendency;[144] they
were under the direction of the clergy, represented a story compiled
from the Bible, or some legendary tale of a canonized saint, and
were denominated mysteries. In the year 1378, the scholars of Paul's
School presented a petition to Richard II., praying his Majesty to
prohibit some unexpert people from presenting the History of the Old
Testament, to the great prejudice of the clergy, who had been at much
expense in order to represent it publicly at Christmas. In 1390,
interludes were played at Skinner's Well; and again, in 1409, the
parish clerks of London performed plays for eight days successively
at Clerkenwell, which took its name from these right learned and
worthy performers. Their play had for its subject the creation of the
world, and was honoured with the presence of most of the nobility in
the kingdom, and very many gentry also attended. This unenlightened
period has been properly called "the dead sleep of the Muses."
They did not presently awake: the moralities which followed were
produced in a kind of morning dream. They, however, had some shadow
of meaning, which is more than can be said of the exhibitions which
preceded them. The mysteries represented, in a confused and senseless
manner, some incredible tale; but in the moralities a plan was aimed
at, and something like poetry was attempted. The virtues, vices, and
affections of the mind were frequently personified; good actions
were rewarded, and wickedness chastised. Religion was at that time
professed to be the leading object, and even their amusements had a
tendency to promote it: were moralities performed now, they would
unquestionably turn upon politics.

In the reign of that _most righteous_ prince Henry VIII., very
properly distinguished from the monarchs who preceded him as
"Defender of the Faith," and so forth, an Act was made for the
promoting of true religion. In this Act a clause is inserted,
"restraining all rimours or plaiers from singing in songs, or playing
in interludes, anything that should contradict the acknowledged
doctrines."

It was customary at this time to enact these moral and religious
dramas in private houses; and the _dramatis personæ_ were so
contrived, that five or six actors might represent twenty characters.
"Players," says honest John Stowe, "were in former times retainers to
noblemen; and none had the privilege to act plays but such as were
so retained. These divertissements were then a recreation, and used,
therefore, now and then occasionally; but afterwards, by abuse, they
became a trade and calling, and so remain unto this day."

In 1574, Sir James Hawes being Mayor, the Common Council of London
passed an Act, wherein it was ordained that no play should be openly
acted within the liberties of the city, wherein should be uttered
any words, examples, or doings, of any unchastity, sedition, or such
like unfit or uncomely matters, under the penalty of five pounds, and
fourteen days' imprisonment. And further, that no plays should be
acted till first perused and allowed by the Lord Mayor and Court of
Aldermen. But even these sagacious and judicious laws failed in their
effect, for the drama remained not only dead, dull, and unprofitable,
but depraved; when, like the sun bursting through a cloud,

              "Immortal Shakspeare rose;
      Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,
      Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:
      Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,
      And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:
      His pow'rful strokes presiding truth confess'd,
      And unresisted passion storm'd the breast."

From that period to this, theatrical amusements have undergone
many changes, which do not come into my plan to relate, and the
Legislature have passed many Acts to check their licentiousness,
which it is not my province to enumerate.

A short time previous to the publication of this print, our dramatic
writers thought proper to dip their pens in the sea of politics.
To check this growing evil, it has been said that the minister
contrived to have a very indecent performance (fabricated for the
express purpose of showing the enormities of writers for the theatre)
presented to one of the managers. It was brought from the manager
to the minister, shown to a number of persons in power, and made a
pretence for bringing in a Bill to prohibit the performance of any
play or interlude until it had been perused and received the sanction
of the Lord Chamberlain for the time being. By the friends of the
ministers of that day this account has been contradicted. They assert
that a piece called the _Golden Rump_, containing much personal abuse
of George II. and Queen Caroline, was on the point of being acted at
the theatre in the Haymarket. Sir Robert Walpole having notice of it,
procured a copy, in consequence of which the performance was stopped,
and the Act passed. It was introduced as intended to explain, amend,
and enforce so much of an Act made in the twelfth year of the reign
of Queen Anne as related to rogues, vagabonds, and common players of
interludes.

Lord Chesterfield, in a very long speech, reprobated the principle
upon which it was founded, and exerted all his eloquence to prevent
its passing into a law. This oration gave a temporary popularity to
the speaker, but did not serve the cause for which it was made. The
Bill passed; but the people were so irritated that the power which it
gave the Lord Chamberlain should be exerted in favour of foreigners,
that in the year 1738, when some French actors, authorized by his
licence, attempted to perform a French play at the Haymarket, a mob
in the street broke the windows, and attempted to pull down the
house, though many persons of high rank, and the French ambassador,
were in the boxes.

The print to which this little account is introductory, receives a
title from its female performers only; and yet in this theatrical
house of _commons_ we discover at least four representatives of the
other sex, viz. Apollo, Cupid, and two male devils.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




STROLLING ACTRESSES DRESSING IN A BARN.

      "Since Thespis, mighty father of the art,
      Declaim'd, and rav'd, and ranted in a cart,
      His wandering offspring, to their parent true,
      Have kept their great original in view:
      Patents they scorn, as modern innovation,
      And here have humbly made a barn their station:
      A barn!--in which though time has made a breach,
      They cleave the general air with horrid speech.

      "The wearied rustic now the flail suspends,
      And the drum's thunder all the region rends;
      Where erst the reapers sung their Harvest Home,
      The martial trumpet echoes through the dome;
      Remov'd, the chaff-dispersing, winnowing fly,
      Lo! the Norwegian banners flout the sky:[145]
      Where perch'd the moping owl, we now behold
      The Roman eagle wave his wings in gold;
      And where the circling bat each night was seen,
      Medea's dragons draw their barbarous queen:
      On that oak floor, once pil'd with sheaves of corn,
      See Juliet's bier in sad procession borne;
      Where the sleek rat was wont to pilfer grain,
      The fiery Tibbald falls, and Hamlet's slain!
      And where each night the cunning weazel crept,
      Richard has roar'd, and Desdemona wept."--E.

[Illustration: STROLLING ACTRESSES DRESSING IN A BARN.]

Mr. Horace Walpole thinks that this print, for wit and imagination,
without any other end, ought to be ranked as the first of Hogarth's
works; and Rouquet, in the only mention he makes of it, says: "Les
comédiens de campagne sont représentés dans une grange, au milieu
d'un mélange ridicule de misere et de pompe théatrale, se préparant à
jouer une tragédie."

The scene is laid in a barn,[146] and intended to represent the state
dressing-room of a strolling company. Here at one hour the gallant
Hotspur laces on his leathern armour, and at another the lively
Beatrice laces on her stays. The time is evening, and the actors
from the London theatres are preparing to perform a farce, which,
by the play-bill, is declared to be _The Devil to pay in Heaven_.
The _dramatis personæ_ are principally deities, and deities of the
first order. On the bill are the names of Jupiter, Juno, Diana,
Flora, Night, Siren, Aurora, Eagle, Cupid, two devils, a ghost, and
attendants. To this divine catalogue is added rope-dancing, tumbling,
etc. The inferior performers are: two musical kittens, a pair of
fiery dragons, one Roman eagle, and though last mentioned, not least
in consequence, a venerable monkey.

Seated upon an inverted wheel-barrow, which may occasionally serve
for a triumphal car, a lady, who by her haughty demeanour and
imperial crown we know to be the ox-eyed Juno, is majestically
stretching out her leg, and pathetically rehearsing her part.
Descended from her ebon car, with a sooty face, and star-bespangled
robe sweeping the ground, the sable goddess Night is mending her
majesty's stocking. The Star of Evening, which sheds its sober light
above her head, is apparently formed of a brass instrument used in
making pastry. A venerable female, with one eye, who by the dagger in
her mantle we conjecture to be the Tragic Muse,[147] is cutting off a
cat's tail, in order to extract a sanguine stream for some murderous
representation, or that

      "The mailed Mars may on his altar sit
      Up to the ears in blood."

But this savage amputation, which seems to excite no emotion in the
operator, is warmly resented by the feline sufferer, who, enraged at
the pain, revenges this barbarous indignity by tearing, with teeth
and talons, the female tumbler who holds her; and, could she speak,
would vehemently exclaim, in the words of Shakspeare,

      "Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence."

Two little devils, with horns just budded, are eagerly contesting the
right in a flagon of ale, out of which one is drinking, and seems
determined to get to the bottom, if it were a mile. The flagon has
been placed on a Grecian altar, with a loaf of bread and a pipe of
tobacco, which being still lighted, the smoke ascends in curling
eddies; the grateful incense is inhaled by all present,

      "And heavenly fragrance fills the circuit wide."

The fascinating female stripped to her chemise, her head decorated
with feathers and flowers, is marked by her crescent to be the
goddess of the silver bow--the chaste Diana. A principal figure in
the picture, with one foot resting upon her hoop, the other behind
the altar,

              "She stands like feather'd Mercury
      New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;"

impressed with the dignity of her character, and inspired with divine
fervour, she is rehearsing her part. At her right hand the blooming
Flora is seated at her toilet: and the toilet of Flora is a wicker
hamper, to which is appended a label inscribed _Jewels_; from whence
we may naturally infer that it contains the glittering regalia of
the company. "Her robe of various dyes" is carelessly thrown over it
as a veil; and placed upon it is somewhat like part of a coffee-mill
with a candle in it, a broken looking-glass, a broken ivory comb,
and an oyster-shell, containing what Mr. Warren emphatically calls
"love-inspiring rouge," "to dye the white rose to a bloody red."
One hand holds a candle, with which she delicately pastes up her
hair--"sweets to the sweet!" the other grasps a dredger to powder her
head.

Apollo and Cupid are jointly engaged in reaching down a pair of
stockings that are hung to dry on a cloud. The little archer--

      "Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
      The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
      Liege of all loiterers and malcontents"--

the little archer has wings, but they will not exalt him to the
clouded canopy; he is obliged to mount a ladder.

On the ground, beneath him, is Aurora, designated by "the bright
morning star, day's harbinger," glittering in her hair. Her
rosy fingers are employed in the service of the charming though
intoxicated siren, who offers the hero (that is perhaps intended
to personate Ganymede) a glass of spirits. This the cupbearer of
Jupiter very gladly accepts, in the hope of relief from an aching
tooth, the agony of which is intimated by his countenance, and the
handkerchief, which was once lost by the chaste Desdemona, being held
up to his face:

      "There was never yet philosopher
      That could endure the toothache patiently;
      However they have writ the style of gods,
      And made a pish at chance and sufferance."

In one corner a lady, who personates Jove's eagle, is feeding a child.

                "Within the hollow crown
      That rounds the mortal temples of a king,"

is placed a tin saucepan with the infant's food. The child, terrified
with the enormous beak hanging over its head, refuses the proffered
nourishment. This crown once pressed the brow of haughty Bolingbroke:

      "And when young Harry did the crown purloin,
      He wept--because it was not current coin."

In the other corner, a monkey, in a long cloak, a bag-wig, and
solitaire, is degrading the plumed helmet of Alexander.

Two kittens seem happily engaged: one of them, in a style that shows
she has a fine finger, "touches the trembling lyre;" the other
rolls an orb imperial. Near them are a number of balls,[148] and two
cups; which intimate that this company of comedians practise sleight
of hand, and to fill their house will sometimes condescend to play
legerdemain tricks. In the same part of the print are three emblems
of the law--two judges' periwigs, and a halter.

A mitre filled with tragedies and farces, and a dark lantern, are
placed upon a pulpit-cushion. Whether the artist intended these for
symbols of the church, and designed to hint at the dark cloud which
long enveloped the mysteries of religion, or had any other meaning,
must be determined by those who have studied polemic divinity, and
considered ecclesiastical history.

A trunk, which has occasionally served for the concealment of
Iachimo, and been displayed as the coffin of Juliet, is now placed
with the end upwards, and become the reading-desk of the ox-eyed
Juno. Upon it is a tinder-box, and the thunderbolt of Jove, a
salt-box, and a rolling-pin. The two last articles have much
importance in the catalogue of the properties of their orchestra.
Their leading musical instrument, the sonorous bass-viol, leans
against the altar, and the sweet-sounding lyre lies on the floor.

Ten small tallow candles, stuck in clay, will be fastened to a hoop,
which, suspended by a packthread over the centre of the stage, must
form a most magnificent chandelier.

On that bed which has been pressed by the gentle Desdemona, and
softened the sleep of beauteous Imogen, are two play-bills and four
eggs. One of the eggs is broken: the others may perhaps be intended
to render the silver-toned siren's voice more softly musical.

Two sets of waves, which gave the tempest-tossed vessel an appearance
of being suspended

      "'Twixt the green sea and cloudy canopy
      Of o'er-arching heaven,"

are in a dead calm, resting against the wall. One of them is become
the roosting place of a hen and chickens.

The frieze, festooned column, and arched door, form part of their
grand scene; but they, as well as the vase with flowers, are in too
elegant a style for their accompaniments.

The spirit-stirring drum, martial trumpet, and enchanted besom, make
an admirable trophy. The two first may serve to call the shallow
Richmond to arms, or rouse Macbeth to more than mortal deeds; the
latter is unquestionably used in the incantations of Hecate, and may
be sometimes bestrid by one of the weird sisters, to "ride in the
whirlwind, and direct the storm."

The two dragons will astonish a rustic audience; and the rattling
car, rolled over elastic planks, will make dreadful thunder.[149]

The British flag must wave for every nation upon earth;[150] may be
borne before Macedonia's madman in his triumphal entry, or wave upon
the battlements of Macbeth's castle. It is either the ensign of Henry
or the standard of Coriolanus.

The straw deposited in a corner may serve for the bed of Lear, the
head of Edgar, or the hands of the fair Ophelia.

Canopied by an opaque cloud, inscribed "Oedipus" and "Jocasta," and
evidently intended as a scene in Lee's mad play,[151] we discover
the heads of two figures reposing in the straw, instead of the
garden, "as was their custom in the afternoon."

A fellow, clambered to the top of the barn, is profanely prying into
the hallowed mysteries of the green-room. A little lower is the
Roman eagle and standard; close to them a paint-pot, palette, and
pencils. The very natural appearance of two rural scenes which lean
against the wooden wall, evince that some eminent artist has united
the two professions, and is both painter and hero to the company.
"Hills and dales are of his dressing." He can delineate the blasted
oak or nodding turret, the lofty castle or humble cottage, with such
brilliancy of colouring and splendour of effect, that the astonished
connoisseur sometimes exclaims,

      "There is something in this more than nature,
      If philosophy could find it out."

A target, close to the altar, is richly embossed with Medusa's head.
A salt-box, before the divine Juno, is chalked with hieroglyphic
marks that might have been originally made by this sovereign daughter
of the drama as a check upon an alehouse score. This economical
attention to Cocker's _Arithmetic_ is very necessary with even a
royal revenue; for

      "He who to-night is seated on a throne,
      Calls subjects, empires, kingdoms, all his own,
      Who wears the diadem and regal robe,
      Next morning shall awake as poor as Job.

        "Hard is the fortune of a strolling player,
      Necessity's rough burden doom'd to bear;
      And scanty is the pittance he can earn,
      Wandering from town to town, from barn to barn.
        Where are my forty knights? cries frantic Lear.
      A page replies, Your majesty, they're here,--
      When, lo! two bailiffs, and a writ appear."[152]

The chemise, apron, cap, and ruffles, hanging upon a rope to dry,
display marks of a laudable industry, and prove that these dignified
personages, maugre their exalted rank, wash their own linen. The
gridiron, close to the bed, intimates that they are not above
broiling their own beefsteaks.

The expression of the figures in this print is admirable. Nothing
can exceed the mock-heroic dignity of Juno;[153] she is as haughty
as one of her own peacocks. The Tragic Muse has been so frequently
up to the ears in blood, that she laughs at the tortures of the poor
quadruped whose tail she is cutting off. The faces of the tumbler,
the cat, and the Medusa, in beauty and character, "contend for
mastery."

A little devil, who has his fist clenched, and threatens the other
for drinking so deep, is admirably marked; from the eyes of his
twin-brother, with the vessel to his mouth, we see that he highly
relishes and greedily inhales the delicious draught.

The group, formed by the five preceding characters, is well
composed, and their various dispositions most forcibly delineated. In
the ranting representative of the pale moon, unblushing, unabashed
impudence; in the siren, mawkish intoxication; and in Ganymede, an
appearance of that agony which arises from the toothache.

Notwithstanding the candle that is near setting fire to the hamper of
jewels, we see through a breach in the thatch that this is a daylight
picture; in so shattered a tenement, it is not easy to determine from
what source the figures are illuminated.

From the Act of Parliament which lies upon the bed, we learn that
this diabolical drama will be their last performance; and when
this abstract and brief chronicle of the times have fretted their
little hour upon the stage, and made their exit, the barn will be
appropriated to its proper uses:

      "Rich harvests bury all their pride has plann'd,
      And laughing Ceres reassume the land."

That time come,

                          "This glittering show
      Of canvas, paint, and plaister shall lie low;
      These gorgeous palaces, yon cloud-capt scene--
      This barn itself will be a barn again:
      The spirit-stirring drum will cease to roar,
      The prompter's whistle will be heard no more;
      But echoing sounds of rustic toil prevail,
      The winnowing hiss, and clapping of the flail:
      Hither once more may unhous'd vagrants fly,
      To shun the inclement blast and pelting sky:
      On Lear's own straw gipsies may rest their head,
      And trulls lie snug in Desdemona's bed."

The original picture is in the possession of Mr. Wood of Lyttlecote,
who purchased it for twenty-six guineas!

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




MR. GARRICK IN THE CHARACTER OF RICHARD III.

      "Give me another horse,--bind up my wounds,--
      Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft; I did but dream.--
      O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!--
      The lights burn blue!--Is it not dead midnight?
      Cold, fearful drops hang on my trembling flesh."

[Illustration: GARRICK AS RICHARD III.]

Such is the exclamation of Richard, and such is the disposition
of his mind at the moment of this delineation. In character
and expression of countenance the artist has succeeded, but in
resemblance--he has failed. The features have no likeness to the
features of Mr. Garrick, and the figure gives an idea of a larger and
more muscular man. The lamp, diffusing a dim religious light through
the tent, the crucifix placed at his head, the crown and unsheathed
sword at his hand, and the armour lying on the ground, are judicious
and appropriate accompaniments. His helmet is crested with _a boar
passant_, the armorial ensign of his family. Near it lies a piece of
paper, on which is written,

      "Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
      For Dickon thy master is bought and sold."

This paper was put in the Duke of Norfolk's tent the night before
the engagement; but not being brought to Richard until after the time
represented in this scene, can only be admitted by that poetical
licence which has been generally allowed to poets and painters.

The figures in the distance, two of whom,

      "Like sacrifices by their fires of watch,
      With patience sit, and inly ruminate
      The morning's danger,"

are properly introduced, and highly descriptive.

The tents of Richmond are so near,

      "That the fix'd sentinels almost receive
      The secret whispers of each other's watch."

Considered as a whole, the composition is simple, and the figures
well drawn. The drapery illustrates his own precepts in the
_Analysis_, where he says: "The robes of state are always made large
and full, because they give a grandeur of appearance suitable to
offices of the greatest distinction. The judges' robes have an awful
dignity given them by the quantity of their contents; and when the
train is held up, there is a noble waving line descending from the
shoulders of the judge to the hand of his train-bearer. So, when the
train is gently thrown aside, it generally falls into a great variety
of folds, which again employ the eye, and fix its attention.

"The grandeur of the Eastern dress, which so far surpasses the
European, depends as much on quantity as costliness. In a word, it is
quantity which adds greatness to grace."

There was some propriety in Hogarth choosing to paint Mr. Garrick
in this character. It was the first he appeared in, on the 19th of
October 1741, at Goodman's Fields, and his performance gave proof of
talents which merited the celebrity he afterwards attained. At that
time Quin was the popular player; but his laboured action, hollow
tones, and the manner in which he heaved up his words, were not borne
after Garrick's easy, familiar, and yet forcible style had been
seen by the town. The surly actor's remark upon this heresy of the
critics was, that "all this was a new religion; but though Whitfield
was followed for a time, the people would soon return to the true
church." Garrick's epigram, in reply, has some point:

      "Poor Quin, who damns all churches but his own,
      Complains that heresy corrupts the town:
      'Schism,' he cries, 'has turned the nation's brain;
      But eyes will open,--and to church again!'
      Thou great infallible forbear to roar,
      Thy bulls and errors are rever'd no more;
      When doctrines meet with general approbation,
      It is not heresy, but reformation."

His soliloquy, written in the character of Quin, on seeing _Duke
Humphrey_ at St. Albans, has humour:

      "A plague on Egypt's arts, I say,
      Embalm the dead!--on senseless clay
        Rich wines and spices waste!
      Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I
      Drown'd in a precious pickle lie,
        Which I can never taste!

      "Let me embalm this flesh of mine
      With turtle fat and Bourdeaux wine,
        And spoil the Egyptian trade;
      Than Humphrey's Duke, more happy I--
      Embalm'd alive, old Quin shall die,
        A mummy ready made."

By Lord Orrery's[154] persuasions, Mr. Pope went to Goodman's Fields
and saw Garrick in the first dawn of his fame. This great poet,
who had formed his taste upon the solemn and dignified elevation of
voice which distinguished Betterton (to whom he was so partial, that
he once painted his portrait, which, until it was burnt in the riots
of 1780, was in the possession of Lord Mansfield);--this great poet
was so struck with the natural elocution of Mr. Garrick, that he
exclaimed, "The young man will be flattered, and ruined; for there
will be no competitor that can excite his emulation." His prophecy
was in part fulfilled; for though Garrick had many competitors, he
had no equal. In the course of his theatrical career he had frequent
attacks, but they were generally foiled. One great source of his
success was, that Shakspeare's plays were at that time becoming much
more popular than they had been at any preceding period. Let it
be recorded to the honour of our fair countrywomen, that this was
in some degree owing to several ladies of the first rank and most
distinguished taste, who had some years before formed themselves
into a society to support, by their presence and encouragement, all
the best plays of Shakspeare. They were called the Shakspeare Club,
and every week ordered some favourite play of our divine bard; but
the feeble powers of the performers were not sufficient to support
the reviving taste of the public. The best among them thought that
the whole art of playing consisted in measured, pompous periods,
and that an approach to nature was a departure from eloquence. The
pellucid stream of Avon was congealed by the coldness of their
declamation, and the beams of Shakspeare enveloped in the vapour of
their mock-heroic recitative. Until the appearance of this our Newton
of the theatre, the drama was under a dense cloud: "he came, and all
was light."

Mr. Garrick's profession was not adopted from necessity, but choice;
and to him the profession is very materially obliged, for he has
placed it in a much more respectable point of view than it ever had
before.

His various powers as an actor, to those who have seen him, it is
unnecessary to describe; to those who have not, it is impossible.
His abilities as a writer were not of the first order, but they were
by no means of the last. It has been remarked, that his prologues
and epilogues had generally some allusion to eating: considered as
local and temporary compositions, they have merit; and his epigrams,
which usually turned upon some little circumstance of the day, have
point. They sometimes drew forth additional flashes from his friends,
and sometimes the retort of those at whom they were aimed; as in the
following, addressed to the redoubted and eccentric Doctor Hill:--

      "For physic and farces,
      Thy equal there scarce is;
      Thy farces are physic,
      Thy physic a farce is."

The two next were afterwards inserted in the public prints, and said
to be the productions of some of Mr. Garrick's friends:--

      "Thou essence of dock, of valerian, and sage,
      At once the disgrace and the pest of this age,
      The worst that we wish thee for all thy d---d crimes,
      Is to take thy own physic, and read thy own rhymes.

      --"_The Junto._"


      _Answer to the Junto._

      "Their wish in form must be revers'd
        To suit the doctor's crimes;
      For he who takes his physic first,
        Will never read his rhymes.

      --"_Another Junto._"

This was too bad, and the Doctor sent the following answer to one of
the papers:--

      "Ye desperate Junto, ye great, or ye small,
      Who combat dukes, doctors, the devil and all,
      Whether gentlemen scribblers, or poets in jail,
      Your impertinent curses shall never prevail:
      I'll take neither sage, dock, nor balsam of honey:
      Do you take the physic, and I'll take the money.

      --"_Anti-Junto._"

Like his brethren of the sock and buskin, our English Roscius was
honoured with much attention from the public prints. They gave us
critical examinations of his powers, and critical disquisitions
upon his defects; from an enumeration of which it was proved,
clearly proved, that he would never be a good actor. The remarks of
these ingenious gentlemen were soon forgotten: the testimony of an
applauding public answered and refuted them. By way of antidote to
these poisons, it must be acknowledged that Mr. Garrick's friends
nearly surfeited the town with injudicious praise. Their flattery
was gross enough to have disgusted any other man; but he had been
so accustomed to strong doses of panegyric, that he could at last
swallow them double distilled. I have said that he was an actor by
choice; I might have added, that he was always an actor. Goldsmith's
lines in retaliation are a true portrait:

      "Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
      And the puff of a dunce--he mistook it for fame;
      Till his relish grown callous almost to disease,
      Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.
      But let us be candid, and speak out our mind,
      If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind:
      Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, ye Woodfalls so grave,
      What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave!
      How did Grub Street re-echo the shouts that you rais'd,
      While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were be-prais'd!
      But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,
      To act as an angel, and mix with the skies," etc.

The ode to the memory of Shakspeare, which he wrote and spoke at
Stratford, with many weak lines, has some that show strong marks of a
fervid imagination and vigorous mind. To instance the following:

      "When Philip's fam'd, all-conquering son,
      Had every blood-stain'd laurel won,
        He sigh'd that his creative word,
          Like that which rules the skies,
          Could not bid other nations rise,
        To glut his yet unsated sword.

      "But when our Shakspeare's matchless pen,
      Like Alexander's sword, had done with men,
        He heav'd no sigh, he made no moan;
          Not limited to human kind,
          He fir'd his wonder-teeming mind,
        Rais'd other worlds and beings of his own."[155]

Many of his _jeu d'esprits_ are related; the following I never saw
recorded. When he and Quin strutted at the same theatre, and in the
same play, the performance ending, and the night being rainy, each of
them ordered a chair, and walked to the door of the playhouse. To the
mortification of Quin, Garrick's chair came first: "Let me get into
the chair," cried the surly veteran, "let me get into the chair, and
put little Davy into the lantern." "By all means," replied Garrick,
"I shall be happy to give Mr. Quin light in anything."

The little tribute which Doctor Johnson has paid to his memory is
written from the heart: I cannot resist transcribing it:--

"At this man's (Mr. Walmsley's) table I enjoyed many cheerful and
instructive hours with companions such as are not often to be found;
with one who has heightened, and who has gladdened life: with Dr.
James, whose skill in physic will be long remembered; and with David
Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our
common friend. But what are the hopes of man! I am disappointed by
that stroke of death, which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and
impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure."--_Life of Edmund
Smith._

Mr. Hogarth lived in habits of intimacy with David Garrick, who
being President of the Shakspeare Club at the time of the Stratford
Jubilee, our painter made him a drawing of a chair, which was
afterwards wrought in mahogany. A medallion of Shakspeare, carved by
Hogarth from a piece of the Stratford mulberry-tree, is suspended to
the back of it.

The paintings of the "Harlot's Progress," and "Strolling Players,"
produced little more than a hundred guineas; but in such estimation
are portraits, that the original picture from which this print was
copied, in every point of view inferior, was purchased by the late
Mr. Duncombe, of Duncombe Park, Yorkshire, at two hundred pounds! It
still remains in his family. The print, by Mr. Hogarth's permission,
was copied for a watch-paper.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS.


The following description of Mr. Hogarth's design in these twelve
plates is copied from his own handwriting:--

"Industry and Idleness exemplified in the conduct of two
fellow-'prentices; where the one by taking good courses, and pursuing
points for which he was put apprentice, becomes a valuable man, and
an ornament to his country; the other, by giving way to idleness,
naturally falls into poverty, and ends fatally, as is expressed
in the last print. As the prints were intended more for use than
ornament, they were done in a way that might bring them within the
purchase of those whom they might most concern; and lest any print
should be mistaken, the description of each print is engraved at top."

Such is the professed intention of the artist, and such his apology
for the manner in which these plates are engraved; for, as Mr.
Walpole justly remarks, they have more merit in their intention than
execution.

As a contrast to an idle and vicious character, who is brought to
consequent misery and shame, his fellow-'prentice is depicted moral,
attentive, and industrious; and, by regular and natural gradations,
attains the highest dignities of the greatest city in Europe. This
is making the pencil an instrument in the cause of virtue, holding
up the mirror of morality and truth, and showing the fair reward of
industry and integrity to be happiness, honour, and independence;
and the inevitable consequences of idleness and vice to be poverty,
misery, and shame.

The hint for contrasting these two very opposite characters is taken
from the old play of _Eastward Hoe_, written by Ben Jonson, George
Chapman, and John Marston, printed for William Aspley, 1605, and
reprinted in Dodsley's collection. In this comedy, Touchstone, a
plain and honest old citizen and goldsmith, has two apprentices,
Golding and Quicksilver: the former is a counterpart of Hogarth's
Goodchild, and the latter has many of the dispositions of Mr. Thomas
Idle. Touchstone, in a proverbial and formal style, advises all who
wish to become respectable, and acquire independence, to conduct
themselves on the same principles that he had done, and by adherence
to which he had gained his fortune:

"I hired me a little shop, bought low, took small profits, kept no
debt book; garnished my shop (instead of plate) with good, wholesome,
thrifty sentences: such as, 'Touchstone, keep thy shop, and thy shop
will keep thee;' 'Light gains make a heavy purse;' 'It is good to be
merry and wise,' etc. etc.

      'Seek not to go beyond your tether,
      But cut your thong unto your leather;
      So shall you thrive by little and little,
      'Scape Tyburn, Counter, and the Spittal.'"

The prologue concludes with what may serve as an explanatory apology
for the prints as well as the play:

      "Bear with our willing pains,--or dull or witty,
      We only dedicate it to the City."

Golding marries Touchstone's favourite daughter; and the old citizen,
in the quaint style of that day, wishes he may live to see him "one
of the monuments of the city, and reckoned among her worthies; to be
remembered the same day with Lady Ramsey and grave Gresham, when the
famous fable of Whittington and his puss shall be forgotten, and thou
and thy acts become the posies for hospitals; when thy name shall
be written upon conduits, and thy deeds played i' thy lifetime by
the best company of actors, and be called their 'Get-penny;' this I
divine and prophesy."

In the comedy, as in the prints, one of the scenes is laid at
Cuckold's Haven; young Golding becoming a magistrate, Quicksilver is
brought before him as a criminal, etc. etc.


PLATE I.

THE FELLOW-'PRENTICES AT THEIR LOOMS.

  "The drunkard shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clothe
  a man with rags."--PROVERBS XXIII. 21.

  "The hand of the diligent maketh rich."--PROVERBS X. 4.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE I.]

At the time these twelve prints were published, the business of a
silk weaver was considered as much more respectable and important
than it has been since the general fashion of wearing linen. The
first view we have of the two heroes of our history, is at the looms
of their master, an inhabitant of Spitalfields. The assiduity of
one of these young artisans is manifested in his countenance, and
attention to the business he is engaged in. Over his head hang those
two excellent old ballads, _Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of
London_, and _The Valiant Apprentice_. On the floor near him is the
_'Prentice's Guide_, a book which our citizen probably presented to
every young man he had under his care; for we see the same title
on a mutilated volume at the feet of Mr. Thomas Idle, who, being
asleep, has dropped his shuttle, which a cat is playing with. On
the wall hangs the ballad of _Moll Flanders_, and very near him is
a tobacco-pipe[156] and a porter pot; the somniferous qualities of
these two narcotics have perhaps contributed to close his eyes. His
appearance is consonant to his disposition; hair uncombed, collar
unbuttoned, and worn-out coat, are strong indications of negligence
and sloth. With angry eye, and cane lifted up, the master, just
entering the room, seems very well disposed to punish his indolence
and drowsiness; but these habits are too strongly rooted to be
eradicated by chastisement.

Thus far is admirably thought, and intelligibly depicted; but the
delineation, as far as regards the picturesque effect, is beneath
criticism. The head of Master Francis Goodchild, placed between
two square posts, looks as if it were stuck in the pillory; the
physiognomy of Mister Thomas Idle is correctly correspondent with his
depraved character; but the introduction of such a number of angles
and parallel lines as the scene demanded, the artist's eye could
never have borne upon any other principle than that given in his
introductory declaration, "that the prints were intended for use more
than ornament."


PLATE II.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE PERFORMING THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN.

  "O how I love Thy law! it is my meditation all the day."--PSALM
  CXIX. 97.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE II.]

This plate displays our industrious young man attending divine
service, in the same pew with his master's daughter, where he shows
every mark of decent and devout attention.

Mr. Hogarth's strong bias to burlesque was not to be checked by
time or place. It is not easy to imagine anything more whimsically
grotesque than the female Falstaff. A fellow near her, emulating the
deep-toned organ, and the man beneath, who, though asleep, joins his
sonorous tones in melodious chorus with the admirers of those two
pre-eminent poets, Hopkins and Sternhold. The pew-opener is a very
prominent and principal figure; two old women adjoining Miss West's
seat are so much in shadow, that we are apt to overlook them: they
are, however, all three making the dome ring with their exertions.

      "Ah! had it been King David's fate
      To hear them sing...."

The preacher, reader, and clerk, with many of the small figures in
the gallery and beneath, are truly ludicrous; and we regret their
being on so reduced a scale, that they are scarce perceptible to
the naked eye. It was necessary that the artist should exhibit a
crowded congregation, but it must be acknowledged he has neglected
the rules of perspective. The print wants depth. In the countenance
of Miss West and her lover there is a resemblance. Their faces have
not much expression, but this is atoned for by a natural and pleasing
simplicity. Character was not necessary.


PLATE III.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE AT PLAY IN THE CHURCHYARD DURING DIVINE SERVICE.

  "Judgments are prepared for scorners, and stripes for the back of
  fools."--PROVERBS XIX. 29.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE III.]

While the industrious and sedate apprentice is engaged in such
exercises as mend the heart and improve the understanding; while
properly devoting the seventh day to the praise of his Creator, he
attends divine service, returns thanks for the blessings he enjoys,
and prays for their continuance, an inmate of the same house, about
the same age, and of the same rank in society, who might have
participated in all his advantages, is stretched upon a grave-stone
in the churchyard, and gambling with a group of mendicants. Their
amusement seems to be the favourite old English game of hustle-cap,
and our idle and unprincipled youth is endeavouring to cheat, by
concealing some of the halfpence under the broad brim of his hat.
This is perceived by the shoeblack, and warmly resented by the
fellow with the black patch over his eye, who loudly insists on the
hats being fairly removed. The eager anxiety which marks these mean
gamblers is equal to that of two peers playing for an estate. The
latter could not have more solicitude for the turn of a die which
was to determine who was the proprietor of ten thousand acres, than
is displayed in the countenance of Mr. Thomas Idle. Their debate
has been loud, and their attention is so much engrossed, that they
have not heard the cautious steps of a beadle, who seems likely
to terminate the dispute by a smart stroke from his rattan, which
is aimed with apparent goodwill at the back of our disciple of
indolence. His three associates are of the lowest order; among them
is a half-naked shoeblack. Like his companion, with one hand lifted
up to his head, he is disturbing part of that clan who have been
always distinguished for their tenacious adherence to the slothful.
The tombstone--inscribed, "Here lies the body of"--applies very
well to the young gentleman who, in an attitude highly expressive
of idleness, is recumbent upon it. Even the skulls, on the ground
near the new-opened grave, have character. These, with the other
mementos of mortality, are indiscriminately scattered on the earth,
and trampled upon by the most contemptible survivors. "How rich, how
honoured once, avails them not."

The figures in this print are well grouped, and the countenances of
the gamblers and beadle admirably marked.


PLATE IV.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE A FAVOURITE, AND ENTRUSTED BY HIS MASTER.

  "Well done, thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been
  faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many
  things."--MATTHEW XXV. 21.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE IV.]

From attention to business and propriety of conduct, the industrious
apprentice has gained the confidence of his employer. He is now in
the counting-house, entrusted with the management of the business;
has the day-book, purse, and keys in his hands, and attentively
listens to the directions of his friendly master, who, with a face
expressive of the highest partiality and regard, familiarly leans
upon his shoulder. A partnership, on the eve of taking place, is
covertly intimated by a pair of gloves upon the writing-desk. The
young merchant's sedulous application is well hinted at by an
headpiece to the _London Almanac_, "Industry taking time by the
forelock." A city porter, bringing in bales of goods, has a true
Bardolphian face. The mastiff that attends him is violently opposed
by the domestic cat, who, considering this house as her own peculiar
domain, and having an hereditary dislike to the canine species,
endeavours to drive him from the premises. Neither cat, dog, nor
porter are well drawn, nor is much regard paid to perspective; but
the general design is carried on by such easy and natural gradations,
and the consequent success of an attentive conduct displayed in
colours so plain and perspicuous, that little errors in execution
should be overlooked or forgiven.


PLATE V.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE TURNED AWAY AND SENT TO SEA.

  "A foolish son is the heaviness of his mother."--PROVERBS X. 1.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE V.]

Corrupted by sloth, and contaminated by bad company, the idle
apprentice, having forfeited the regard and tired the patience of
his master, is sent to sea, in the hope that a separation from his
associates, joined to the inevitable hardships of a maritime life,
may in some degree reclaim him. He is exhibited in the ship's boat,
accompanied by his afflicted mother, whose dress intimates that she
is a widow, and who had naturally formed hopes of this boy's being a
comfort to her old age. The waterman, with a significant face, points
to a figure on a gibbet, advising him to look at it as emblematical
of his future fate. A boy shows him a cat-o'-nine tails as a specimen
of the discipline on board a ship; this _water-wit_ the abandoned
young man returns by holding up two fingers in the form of horns,
and recommending this Joe Miller of the Thames to look at Cuckold's
Point, which is in the distance. Having forfeited his indentures,
he has thrown them into the river, is totally lost to reflection,
and insensible to the grief of his mother, the ridicule of his
companions, or his own unhappy situation.

That great geographer of the human face, Lavater of Zurich, has very
properly thought a copy of this print worthy a place in his _Essays
on Physiognomy_. His observations deserve attention:--

"Here are the traits of drunkenness combined with thoughtless
stupidity. Who can look without disgust? Would these wretches have
been what they are, had they not by vice erased nature's marks? Can
perversion be more apparent than in the middle profile?"


PLATE VI.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE OUT OF HIS TIME, AND MARRIED TO HIS
MASTER'S DAUGHTER.

  "The virtuous woman is a crown to her husband."--PROVERBS XIII. 4.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE VI.]

The reward of industry is success. Our prudent and attentive youth is
now become partner with his master,[157] and married to his daughter.
To show that plenty reigns in this mansion, a servant distributes
the remains of the table to a poor woman, and the bridegroom pays
one of the drummers, who, according to ancient custom, attend with
their thundering gratulations the day after a wedding. A performer
on the bass viol, and a herd of butchers armed with marrow-bones and
cleavers, form an English concert![158] A cripple, with the ballad of
_Jesse_, or the _Happy Pair_, represents a man known by the name of
Philip in the Tub, who had visited Ireland and the United Provinces,
and in the memory of some persons now living was a general attendant
at weddings. From those votaries of Hymen, who were honoured with
his _epithalamiums_, he received a small reward. To show that
Messieurs West and Goodchild's habitation is near the Monument,[159]
the base of that stately column appears in the background.

A footman and butcher at the opposite corner, compared with the other
figures, are gigantic; they might serve for the Gog and Magog of
Guildhall.

It has been said that the thoughts in this print are trite, and
the actions mean, which must be in part acknowledged; but they are
natural and appropriate to the rank and situation of the parties, and
to the fashions of the time at which it was published.


PLATE VII.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE RETURNED FROM SEA, AND IN A GARRET WITH A COMMON
PROSTITUTE.

  "The sound of a shaken leaf shall chase him."--LEVITICUS XXVI. 36.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE VII.]

The profligate and degraded apprentice, returned from his voyage,
is now exhibited in a garret with a common prostitute. Tired
of a seafaring life, where we may naturally suppose he met with
punishment adequate to his crimes, he returns to London. By the
pistols, watches, etc. which lie upon and near the bed, it seems
evident that the source of his present subsistence is from robbery on
the highway. Horror and dismay are strongly depicted in his agitated
and terrified face.--What a contrast to the serenity displayed in
the countenance of his fellow-'prentice! To prevent surprise, the
door is locked, double bolted, and barricaded with planks from the
floor; notwithstanding these precautions, the noise occasioned by
a cat having slipped down a ruinous chimney, throws him into the
utmost terror. Not so his depraved companion; solely engrossed by
the plunder upon the bed,[160] she looks with delighted eyes at a
glittering earring. The broken jug, pipe, knife, plate, dram-bottle,
glass, and pistols, are very properly introduced; and the rat, who
makes a precipitate retreat, instinctively conscious that its natural
enemy is near, renders this filthy and disgusting scene still more
nauseous. The lady's hoop is a good specimen of the fashion of that
day, when this cumbrous, inconvenient, and ungraceful combination of
whales' bones was worn by women of the lowest as well as the highest
rank.


PLATE VIII.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE GROWN RICH, AND SHERIFF OF LONDON.

  "With all thy gettings, get understanding. Exalt her; and she
  shall promote thee; she shall bring thee to honour, when thou
  dost embrace her."--PROVERBS IV. 7, 8.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE VIII.]

From industry become opulent, from integrity and punctuality
respectable, our young merchant is now Sheriff of London, and dining
with the different companies in Guildhall. A group on the left side
are admirably characteristic; their whole souls seem absorbed in the
pleasures of the table. A divine,[161] true to his cloth, swallows
his soup with the highest _goût_. Not less gratified is the gentleman
palating a glass of wine. The man in a black wig is a positive
representative of famine; and the portly and oily citizen, with a
napkin tucked in his button-hole,[162] has evidently burnt his mouth
by extreme eagerness.

The backs of those in the distance, behung with bags, major perukes,
pinners, etc., are most laughably ludicrous. Every person present is
so attentive to business, that one may fairly conclude "they live to
eat, rather than eat to live."

But though this must be admitted to be the case with this party
here exhibited, the following recent instance of city temperance
proves that there are now some exceptions:--

When the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Aldermen, Chamberlain, etc. of the
city of London were once seated round the table at a public and
splendid dinner at Guildhall, Mr. Chamberlain Wilkes lisped out, "Mr.
Alderman B--ll, shall I help you to a plate of turtle or a slice
of the haunch,--I am within reach of both, sir?" "Neither one nor
t'other, I thank you, sir," replied the Alderman; "I think I shall
dine on the beans and bacon which are at this end of the table." "Mr.
Alderman A----n," continued the Chamberlain, "which would you choose,
sir?" "Sir, I will not trouble you for either, for I believe I shall
follow the example of my Brother B--ll, and dine on beans and bacon,"
was the reply. On this second refusal the old Chamberlain rose from
his seat, and with every mark of astonishment in his countenance,
curled up the corners of his mouth, cast his eyes round the table,
and in a voice as loud and articulate as he was able, called
"Silence!" which being obtained, he thus addressed the prætorian
magistrate, who sat in the chair: "My Lord Mayor, the wicked have
accused us of intemperance, and branded us with the imputation of
gluttony. That they may be put to open shame, and their profane
tongues be from this day utterly silenced, I humbly move that your
lordship command the proper officer to record in our annals, that
'two Aldermen of the city of London prefer beans and bacon to either
turtle-soup or venison.'"

Notwithstanding all this, there are men who, looking on the dark
side, and perhaps rendered splenetic, and soured by not being invited
to these sumptuous entertainments, have affected to fear that their
frequent repetition would have a tendency to produce a famine, or at
least to check the increase, if not extirpate the species of those
birds, beasts, and fish with which the tables of the rich are now
so plentifully supplied.[163] But these half-reasoners do not take
into their calculation the number of gentlemen so laudably associated
for encouraging cattle being fed so fat that there is no lean
left; or that more ancient association, sanctioned and supported by
severe Acts of Parliament, for the preservation of the game. From
the exertions of these and similar societies, we may reasonably hope
there is no occasion to dread any such calamity taking place; though
the Guildhall tables, often groaning under such hecatombs as are
recorded in the following account, may make a man of weak nerves and
strong digestion shake his head, and shudder a little:--

"On the 29th October 1727, when George II. and Queen Caroline
honoured the city with their presence at Guildhall, there were
nineteen tables covered with 1075 dishes. The whole expense of this
entertainment to the city was £4889, 4s."

To return to the print! A self-sufficient and consequential beadle,
reading the direction of a letter to Francis Goodchild, Esq., Sheriff
of London, has all the insolence of office. The important and
overbearing air of this dignified personage is well contrasted by the
humble simplicity of the straight-haired messenger behind the bar.
The gallery is well furnished with musicians busily employed in their
vocation.

      "Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,
      And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast."

Besides a portrait of William III. and a judge, the hall is
ornamented with a full length of that illustrious hero Sir William
Walworth; in commemoration of whose valour, the weapon with which he
slew Wat Tyler was introduced into the city arms.


PLATE IX.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE BETRAYED BY A PROSTITUTE, AND TAKEN IN A
NIGHT-CELLAR WITH HIS ACCOMPLICE.

  "The adulteress will hunt for the precious life."--PROVERBS VI.
  26.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE IX.]

From a picture of the reward of diligence, we return to the
consequence of sloth. The idle and incorrigible outcast,
mature in vice, and lost to society, is here represented in a
night-cellar.[164] In this dreary and horrid cavern of vice and
infamy he is dividing the spoil produced by robbery with one of his
wretched accomplices. The woman that seems his favourite, and in
whose garret we saw him in the seventh plate, deliberately betrays
him. The officers of justice are entering, and he is on the point of
being seized. The corpse of a gentleman, who has been murdered, is
with unfeeling indifference put down a cavity made in the floor for
the purposes of concealment. To show that the grenadiers company
were then, as now, a virtuous body of men, one of them, in a true
Dutch attitude, is smoking in the corner. A scene of riot, likely
to terminate in blood, passes in the background. The countenances
of the combatants, and a noseless woman bringing the porter, are
finely marked. A rope, hanging immediately over a fellow who is
asleep, should not be overlooked. The watches, which are in a hat,
exhibit another instance of Hogarth's peculiar accuracy; each of them
is a little after ten. Some cards scattered on the floor show the
amusements of this earthly Pandemonium.


PLATE X.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE ALDERMAN OF LONDON; THE IDLE ONE BROUGHT
BEFORE HIM, AND IMPEACHED BY HIS ACCOMPLICE.

  "Thou shalt do no unrighteousness in judgment."--LEVITICUS XIX. 15.

  "The wicked is snared in the work of his own hands."--PSALM XIX. 16.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE X.]

He who was an industrious apprentice is now an alderman and a
magistrate; his depraved and atrocious contrast, who was once his
fellow-'prentice, and the last plate exhibited in a night-cellar, is
now brought handcuffed before him, and accused of robbery, aggravated
by murder. Shocked at seeing the companion of his youth in so
degraded a situation, he instinctively covers his eyes. Agitated,
trembling, terrified, self-convicted, and torn by remorse, the
wretched culprit is unable to support his tottering frame. Did he not
lean upon the bar, he would sink to the earth.

His distressed and heart-broken mother intercedes with the swollen
and important constable to use his interest for her unhappy son.
This application the mighty magistrate of the night answers by--"We
that are in power must do justice!" A number of watchmen attend the
examination, and one of them holds up the sword and pistols which
were found on the prisoner. A young woman[165] bribes the swearing
clerk to befriend the one-eyed wretch who has turned evidence against
his accomplice, by suffering him to take the usual oath with his left
hand laid upon the book, instead of his right.[166]

This debased villain was first introduced to us gambling on a
grave-stone; his second appearance was in a night-cellar, where
he divided the evening's plunder with the man he now deliberately
betrays!

The alderman's clerk is making out a warrant of commitment directed
to the turnkey of Newgate.


PLATE XI.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE EXECUTED AT TYBURN.

  "When fear cometh as desolation, and their destruction cometh as
  a whirlwind: when distress cometh upon them, then they shall call
  upon God, but He will not answer."--PROVERBS I. 27, 28.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE XI.]

After a life of sloth, wretchedness, and vice, the career of our
degraded character terminates at Tyburn. His pale and ghastly look
denotes the remorse and horror of his mind; and it must embitter his
last moments to hear a Grub Street orator proclaim his dying speech.
The ordinary of Newgate leads the procession, but the criminal's
spiritual concerns are left to an enthusiastic follower of John
Wesley, who zealously exhorts him to repentance.[167] On the right
side of the print we see his afflicted mother: her coming to view
this dreadful spectacle does not seem consonant to strict propriety,
but there have been similar examples. In a cart above her is a
curious trio of females; an old beldam, who might have been Sam.
Foote's model for Mother Cole, breathing out a pious ejaculation,
and swallowing a bumper of spirits at the same moment; a young woman
taking a glass from beneath, and a third dissuading a fellow from
ascending the vehicle. While a vendor of gingerbread[168] expatiates
on the excellence of his delicious cakes, a minor pickpocket purloins
his handkerchief. A female grimalkin, enraged at a man oversetting
her orange-barrow, is literally tearing his eyes out. To show the
reverence which an English mob have for anything that bears the
appearance of religion, and the effects which this exhibition has
upon their minds, an inmate of St. Giles' seizes a dog by the tail,
and is on the point of throwing it at the Methodist parson. A female
pugilist, near the centre of the print, is so earnest in punishing
a fellow who has offended her, that she neglects her child, which,
lying on the ground, is probably destined to be crushed to death. A
tall butcher has suspended an old legal periwig on the end of his
cudgel: in this, the artist might intend to display an emblem of
the sanguinary complexion which marks our courts of justice.[169]
The porter, with his pipe; a cripple; the soldier sunk knee-deep
in a bog, and two boys laughing at him, are well imagined. Among
the figures in the background, we must not overlook a gentleman
emphatically called the "Finisher of the law," who sedately smokes
his best Virginia upon the gallows.

A carrier pigeon is despatched at the time the criminal arrives at
Tyburn.[170] Two initials on the coffin, not having been reversed
from the original drawing, are wrong in the print; I. T. instead of
T. I.

In the background we have a view of Highgate and Hampstead hills.

The arch look of a young pickpocket, the savage ferocity of a woman
tearing a fellow's face, and the yell of another crying the dying
speech, are admirably expressed. Many of the smaller figures are full
fraught with character; for the grouping, let us hear Mr. Gilpin,
with whom I entirely agree:--

"We seldom see a crowd more beautifully managed than in this print.
If the sheriff's officers had not been placed in a line, and had been
brought a little lower in the picture, so as to have formed a pyramid
with the cart, the composition had been unexceptionable."--_Gilpin's
Essay._

Two skeletons hanging on the outside of the frame are emblematical;
the body of a murderer being usually consigned to Surgeon's Hall.[171]

The trophies, composed of fetters, whips, and halters, with the
swords, maces, gold chains, etc., with which the framework of the
preceding prints are decorated, must be admitted to be beneath the
dignity of historical painting; but considered as addressed to young
persons, and exhibiting a view of the different consequences of
industry and sloth, are strictly proper.


PLATE XII.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.

  "Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches
  and honour."--PROVERBS III. 16.

[Illustration: INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE XII.]

In the last print we saw a crowd witnessing the ignominious
death of a murderer; in this are a cheerful assembly joining the
procession of a chief magistrate; some reeling, some roaring, and all
rejoicing.[172]

The scene is laid at the east side of St. Paul's Church, just
turning into Cheapside; and in particular honour of this day, the
artist has introduced the late Prince and Princess of Wales at a
balcony, in view of the pageant. A group on the scaffolding beneath
is formed of the most comic characters. Who can abstain from laughter
at the city militia, which are below? They were at that time composed
of undisciplined men, of all ages and descriptions; young, old, tall,
short, crooked, straight, fat, and lean, made up the motley band.

The man in a grenadier's cap, with a pot of porter in his left hand,
might perform the part of Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.[173] A neighbouring
gentleman, in a cut wig, is scarcely able to support his firelock.
The fellow firing off his musket exclaims, "Who's afraid?" The next
may be a very great man, though nature has treated his exterior, as
she did that of our third Richard, rather unkindly, by placing an
envious mountain on his back. The hero in a bag-wig, resting upon his
arms, is made from a splinter of the monument; "his dimensions to
any thick sight are invisible." Far different is the strong-built man
of war at his left hand: by his _back front_ he seems to have grown
out at the sides; what nature denied in height, she has abundantly
made up in breadth. His long sword is so placed as to give the idea
of a bluebottle impaled on a pin. A plank, supported by a tub and
stool, having given way, two of the fair sex fall to the ground. The
most obtrusive figure in his lordship's coach is Mr. Swordbearer, in
a cap like a reversed saucepan, which this great officer wears on
these grand occasions. The company of journeymen butchers, with their
marrow-bones and cleavers, appear to be the most active, and are
infinitely the most noisy of any who grace this solemnity.

Near the left corner, a blind man, conscious that he has but a poor
chance in a crowd, endeavours to preserve his hat and wig from the
depredating multitude. The Bunhill Fields trooper, who leans against
a post, with one of his bandeliers in his left hand, has made a
little mistake. A young man in the booth above, not having the fear
of dignity before his eyes, is eagerly kissing a girl: the lady,
irritated at this indecorum, seems likely to leave marks of her
talons upon his forehead. At the opposite corner, a vendor of the
Grub Street classics proclaims "a full, true, and particular account
of the ghost of Thomas Idle, which appeared to the Lord Mayor."

Numberless spectators, upon every house, and at every window, dart
their desiring eyes on the procession. Of the figures on a tapestry,
hanging from a balcony[174] at the King's Head, I cannot discover
the meaning. Two flags beneath are blazoned with the arms of the
Stationers' Company; and that in a stand which exhibits the ardent
salutation before mentioned, belongs to the pinners and needlers.
The _cornucopiæ_ on the outside of the frame are symbolical of that
abundance which fills the hands of the diligent.

Many of the characters in this and the foregoing print bear a strong
resemblance to some which Mr. Hogarth etched about twenty years
before for Butler's _Hudibras_.

The following year was published a pamphlet, entitled, "_The Effects
of Industry and Idleness_, illustrated in the life, adventures, and
various fortunes of two fellow-'prentices of the city of London:
showing the different paths, as well as rewards, of virtue and vice,"
etc. Printed for C. Corbet, at Addison's Head, Fleet Street.

In the chamber of London where the apprentices are bound, these
twelve prints very properly ornament the room.

The late Mr. James Love, comedian (otherwise Dance), dramatized this
eventful history, and Mr. King performed the good apprentice.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




ROAST BEEF AT THE GATE OF CALAIS.

  "O the roast beef of Old England," etc.

[Illustration: ROAST BEEF AT THE GATE OF CALAIS.]

The thought on which this whimsical and highly characteristic print
is founded, originated in Calais, to which place Mr. Hogarth,
accompanied by some of his friends, made an excursion in the year
1747.

Extreme partiality for his native country was the leading trait of
his character; he seems to have begun his three hours' voyage with a
firm determination to be displeased at everything he saw out of Old
England. For a meagre powdered figure, hung with tatters, _à-la-mode
de Paris_, to affect the airs of a coxcomb and the importance of a
sovereign, is ridiculous enough; but if it makes a man happy, why
should he be laughed at? It must blunt the edge of ridicule to see
natural hilarity defy depression; and a whole nation laugh, sing, and
dance under burdens that would nearly break the firm-knit sinews of a
Briton. Such was the picture of France at that period, but it was a
picture which our English satirist could not contemplate with common
patience. The swarms of grotesque figures who paraded the streets
excited his indignation, and drew forth a torrent of coarse abusive
ridicule not much to the honour of his liberality. He compared them
to Callot's Beggars, Lazarus on the painted cloth, the Prodigal
Son, or any other object descriptive of extreme contempt. Against
giving way to these effusions of national spleen in the open street
he was frequently cautioned, but advice had no effect; he treated
admonition with scorn, and considered his monitor unworthy the name
of Englishman. These satirical ebullitions were at length checked.
Ignorant of the customs of France, and considering the gate of Calais
merely as a piece of ancient architecture, he began to make a sketch.
This was soon observed; he was seized as a spy, who intended to draw
a plan of the fortification, and escorted by a file of musqueteers
to M. la Commandant. His sketch-book was examined leaf by leaf, and
found to contain drawings that had not the most distant relation to
tactics. Notwithstanding this favourable circumstance, the Governor
with great politeness assured him, that had not a treaty between
the nations been actually signed, he should have been "under the
disagreeable necessity of hanging him upon the ramparts:" as it was,
he must be permitted the privilege of providing him a few military
attendants, who should do themselves the honour of waiting upon
him while he resided in the dominions of the Grande Monarque. Two
sentinels were then ordered to escort him to his hotel, from whence
they conducted him to the vessel; nor did they quit their prisoner
until he was a league from shore, when, seizing him by the shoulders,
and spinning him round upon the deck, they said he was now at liberty
to pursue his voyage without further molestation.

So mortifying an adventure he did not like to hear recited, but has
in this print recorded the circumstance which led to it. In one
corner he has given a portrait of himself, making the drawing; and
to show the moment of arrest, the hand of a serjeant is upon his
shoulder.

Mr. Hogarth's friend Forest soon afterwards wrote the following
cantata, which contains so whimsical a description of the principal
figures, that I make no apology for inserting it:--


THE ROAST BEEF AT THE GATE OF CALAIS.

RECITATIVE.

      'Twas at the gate of Calais, Hogarth tells,
      Where sad despair and famine always dwells;
      A meagre Frenchman, Madame Grandsire's cook,
      As home he steer'd, his carcase that way took,
      Bending beneath the weight of fam'd sirloin,
      On whom he often wished in vain to dine;
      Good Father Dominick by chance came by,
      With rosy gills, round paunch, and greedy eye;
      And when he first beheld the greasy load,
      His benediction on it he bestow'd;
      And while the solid fat his fingers press'd,
      He lick'd his chops, and thus the knight address'd:

AIR.

      O rare roast beef, lov'd by all mankind,
        Was I but doom'd to have thee,
      Well dress'd, and garnish'd to my mind,
        And swimming in thy gravy;
      Not all thy country's force combined,
        Should from my fury save thee!

      Renown'd sirloin! ofttimes decreed
        The theme of English ballad,
      E'en kings on thee have deign'd to feed,
        Unknown to Frenchman's palate;
      Then how much must thy taste exceed
        Soup-meagre, frogs, and salad!

RECITATIVE.

      A half-starv'd soldier, shirtless, pale, and lean,
      Who such a sight before had never seen,
      Like Garrick's frighted Hamlet gaping stood,
      And gaz'd with wonder at the British food;
      His morning mess forsook the friendly bowl,
      And in small streams along the pavement stole;
      He heav'd a sigh, which gave his heart relief,
      And thus in plaintive tones declar'd his grief:

AIR.

      Ah, _sacre Dieu_! vat do I see yonder,
        Dat look so tempting red and vite?
      Begar, it is the roast beef from Londre!
        O grant to me one letel bite.

      But to my guts if you give no heeding,
        And cruel fate this boon denies,
      In kind compassion to my pleading,
        Return, and let me feast mine eyes.

RECITATIVE.

      His fellow guard, of right Hibernian clay,
      Whose brazen front his country did betray,
      From Tyburn's fatal tree had hither fled,
      By honest means to get his daily bread:
      Soon as the well-known prospect he espy'd,
      In blubb'ring accents dolefully he cried:

AIR.

      Sweet beef that now causes my stomach to rise,
      Sweet beef that now causes my stomach to rise,
            So taking thy sight is,
            My joy, that so light is,
      To view thee, by pailfuls runs out of my eyes.

      While here I remain my life's not worth a farthing,
      While here I remain my life's not worth a farthing,
            Ah! hard-hearted _Lewy_,
            Why did I come to ye?
      The gallows, more kind, would have saved me from starving.

RECITATIVE.

      Upon the ground hard by poor Sawney sate,
      Who fed his nose and scratched his ruddy pate;
      But when old England's bulwark he descried,
      His dear lov'd mull, alas! was thrown aside.
      With lift'd hands he blest his native place,
      Then scrubb'd himself, and thus bewailed his case:

AIR.

      How hard, O Sawney, is thy lot,
        Who was so blithe of late,
      To see such meat as can't be got,
        When hunger is so great.

      O the beef, the bonny bonny beef,
        When roasted nice and brown,
      I wish I had a slice of thee,
        How sweet it would gang down!

      Ah, Charley! had'st thou not been seen,
        This ne'er had hapt to me;
      I would the de'il had pick'd mine e'en
        Ere I had gang'd with thee.
              O the beef, etc.

RECITATIVE.

      But see my muse to England takes her flight,
      Where health and plenty cheerfully unite;
      Where smiling Freedom guards great George's throne
      (And chains, and racks, and tortures are not known),
      Whose fame superior bards have often wrote,
      An ancient fable give me leave to quote:

AIR.

      As once on a time a young frog pert and vain,
      Beheld a large ox grazing over the plain,
      He boasted his size he could quickly attain.
          O the roast beef of Old England,
          And O the Old English roast beef!

      Then eagerly stretching his weak little frame,
      Mamma, who stood by like a knowing old dame,
      Cried, 'Son, to attempt it you're greatly to blame.'
          O the roast beef, etc.

      But deaf to advice, he for glory did thirst,
      An effort he ventur'd more strong than the first,
      'Till swelling and straining too hard, made him burst.
          O the roast beef, etc.

      Then, Britons, be valiant, the moral is clear,
      The ox is Old England, the frog is Monsieur,
      Whose puffs and bravadoes we never need fear.
          O the roast beef, etc.

      For while by our commerce and arts we are able
      To see the sirloin smoking hot on our table,
      The French may e'en croak, like the frog in the fable.
          O the roast beef, etc.

The French sentinel is so situated as to give some idea of a figure
hanging in chains: his ragged shirt is trimmed with a pair of paper
ruffles, on which is written "Grand Monarch. P." The old woman, and
a fish which she is pointing at, have a striking resemblance. The
abundance of parsnips and other vegetables indicate what are the
leading articles in a Lenten feast.

Mr. Pine the painter sat for the friar, and from thence acquired the
title of Father Pine. This distinction did not flatter him, and he
frequently requested that the countenance might be altered, but the
artist peremptorily refused.

Part of the print was engraved by C. Mosley, but the heads are
evidently by Hogarth.[175]

A copy has been repeatedly engraven as an head-piece to the cantata
before mentioned: the profile of the artist was traced for a
watch-paper; and a wooden representation of the starved soldier has
frequently decorated advertisements for recruits, where it is opposed
to the figure of a well-fed gourmand, characteristically christened a
valiant British soldier.

The original picture is in the possession of Lord Charlemont.

Soon after this painting was finished, a nail was by some accident
run through the cross at the top of the gate. Hogarth strove in vain
to repair the blemish with paint of the same colour; he therefore
introduced a half-starved crow looking down on the beef, and thus
completely covered the defect.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]




THE COUNTRY INN YARD, OR THE STAGE-COACH.

      "The poet's adage, 'All the world's a stage,'
      Has stood the test of each revolving age;
      Another simile perhaps will bear,
      'Tis a _Stage-coach_, where all must pay the fare;
      Where each his entrance and his exit makes,
      And o'er life's rugged road his journey takes.
        Some unprotected must their tour perform,
      'And bide the pelting of the pitiless storm:'
      While others, free from elemental jars,
      By fortune favour'd, and propitious stars,
      Secure from storms, enjoy their little hour,
      Despise the whirlwind, and defy the shower.
        Such is our life,--in sunshine or in shade,
      From evil shelter'd, or by woe assay'd:
      Whether we sit, like Niobe, all tears,
      Or calmly sink into the vale of years:
      With houseless, naked Edgar, sleep on straw,
      Or keep, like Cæsar, subject worlds in awe,--
      To the same port our devious journeys tend,
      Where airy hopes and sickening sorrows end;
      Sunk every eye, and languid every breast,
      Each wearied pilgrim sighs, and sinks to rest."--E.

[Illustration: THE COUNTRY INN YARD.]

Among the writers of English novels, Henry Fielding holds the first
rank. He was the novelist of nature, and has described some scenes
which bear a strong resemblance to that which is here delineated.
The artist, like the author, has taken truth for his guide, and
given such characters as are familiar to all our minds. The scene
is a country inn yard, at the time passengers are getting into a
stage-coach, and an election procession passing in the background.
Nothing can be better described; we become of the party.--The vulgar
roar of our landlady is no less apparent than the grave, insinuating,
imposing countenance of mine host. Boniface solemnly protests that a
bill he is presenting to an old gentleman in a laced hat is extremely
moderate. This does not satisfy the paymaster, whose countenance
shows that he considers it as a palpable fraud, though the Act
against bribery, which he carries in his pocket, designates him to
be of a profession not very liable to suffer imposition: they are in
general "less sinned against than sinning." An ancient lady getting
into the coach is, from her breadth, a very inconvenient companion
in such a vehicle; but to atone for her rotundity, an old maid of a
spare appearance, and in a most grotesque habit, is advancing towards
the steps.

A portly gentleman, with a sword and cane in one hand, is deaf to
the entreaties of a poor little deformed postilion, who solicits
his customary fee. The old woman smoking her short pipe in the
basket, pays very little attention to what is passing around her:
cheered by the fumes of her tube, she lets the vanities of the
world go their own way. Two passengers on the roof of the coach
afford a good specimen of French and English manners. Ben Block, of
the _Centurion_, surveys the subject of _La Grande Monarque_ with
ineffable contempt.

In the window are a very curious pair: one of them blowing a French
horn, and the other endeavouring, but without effect, to smoke away
a little sickness, which he feels from the fumes of his last night's
punch. Beneath them is a traveller taking a tender farewell of the
chambermaid, who is not to be moved by the clangour of the great
bar-bell, or the more thundering sound of her mistress's voice.

The background is crowded with a procession of active citizens; they
have chaired a figure with a horn-book, a bib, and a rattle, intended
to represent Child, Lord Castlemain, afterwards Lord Tylney, who,
in a violent contest for the county of Essex, opposed Sir Robert
Abdy and Mr. Bramston. The horn-book, bib, and rattle are evidently
displayed as punningly allusive to his name.[176]

Under the sign of an angel, who seems dancing a minuet on a cloud, is
inscribed, "The Old Angle In Toms Bates from London."

Some pains have been taken to discover in what part of Essex this
scene is laid; but from the many alterations made by rebuilding,
removal, etc., it has not been positively ascertained, though it is
probably Chelmsford.


END OF VOL. I.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] Two of the prints must be excepted: "Time smoking a Picture," and
"The Bathos," are addressed to the connoisseurs.

[2] Mr. Walker, who has so eminently distinguished himself by his
lectures on natural philosophy, has described the effect resulting
from one of this rude bard's productions:--

  "_To Mr. Nichols._

  "I must leave you to the annals of fame for the rest of the
  anecdotes of this great genius, and shall endeavour to show
  you that his family possessed similar talents; but they were
  destined, like the wild rose,

      'To waste their sweetness in the desert air.'

  "Happy should I be to rescue from oblivion the name of auld
  Hogarth, whose songs and quibbles have so often delighted my
  childhood! These simple strains of this mountain Theocritus
  were fabricated while he held the plough, or was leading his
  fuel from the hills. He was as critical an observer of nature
  as his nephew, for the narrow field he had to view her in: not
  an incident or an absurdity in the neighbourhood escaped him.
  If any one was hardy enough to break through any decorum of old
  and established repute; if any one attempted to overreach his
  neighbour, or cast a leering eye at his wife, he was sure to hear
  himself sung over the whole parish, nay, to the very boundaries
  of the Westmoreland dialect! so that his songs were said to have
  a greater effect on the manners of his neighbourhood, than even
  the sermons of the parson himself. But his poetical talents were
  not confined to the incidents of his village; I myself have had
  the honour to bear a part in one of his plays (I say _one_, for
  there are several of them extant in _MS._ in the mountains of
  Westmoreland to this hour). The play was called _The Destruction
  of Troy_; it was written in metre, much in the manner of _Lopez
  de Vega_, or the ancient French drama. The unities were not
  too strictly observed, for the siege of ten years was all
  represented: every hero was in the piece, so that the _dramatis
  personæ_ consisted of every lad of genius in the whole parish.
  The wooden horse;--Hector dragged by the heels;--the fury of
  Diomede;--the flight of Æneas;--and the burning of the city, were
  all represented. I remember not what fairies had to do in all
  this; but as I happened to be about three feet high at the time
  of this still talked of exhibition, I personated one of these
  tiny beings. The stage was a fabrication of boards, placed about
  six feet high, on strong posts; the green-room was partitioned
  off with the same materials; its ceiling was the azure canopy of
  heaven; and the boxes, pit, and galleries, were laid into one
  by the great Author of nature, for they were the green slope
  of a fine hill. Despise not, reader, this humble state of the
  provincial drama: let me tell you, there were more spectators,
  for three days together, than your three theatres in London would
  hold; and let me add, still more to your confusion, that you
  never saw an audience half so well pleased.

  "The exhibition was begun with a grand procession from the
  village, to a great stone (dropped by the Devil, about a
  quarter of a mile off, when he tried in vain to erect a bridge
  across Windermere; so the people, unlike the rest of the world,
  have remained a good sort of people ever since),--I say, the
  procession was begun by the minstrels of five parishes, and
  followed by a yeoman on bull-back. You stare--stop then, till I
  inform you that this adept had so far civilised his bull, that
  he would suffer the yeoman to mount his back, and even to play
  upon the fiddle there. The managers besought him to join the
  procession; but the bull not being accustomed to much company,
  and particularly to so much applause,--whether he was intoxicated
  with praise, thought himself affronted and made game of, or
  whether a favourite cow came across his imagination, certain it
  was that he broke out of the procession, erected his tail, and,
  like another _Europa_, carried off the affrighted yeoman and his
  fiddle over hedge and ditch, till he arrived at his own field.
  This accident rather inflamed than depressed the good humour
  arising from the procession; and the clown, or Jack Pudding of
  the piece, availed himself so well of the incident, that the
  lungs and ribs of the spectators were in manifest danger. This
  character was the most important personage in the whole play; for
  his office was to turn the most serious parts of the drama into
  burlesque and ridicule; he was a compound of Harlequin and the
  Merry-Andrew, or rather the arch-fool of the ancient kings. His
  dress was a white jacket covered with bulls, bears, birds, fish,
  etc., cut in various-coloured cloth; his trousers were decorated
  in like manner, and hung round with small bells; and his cap
  was that of folly, decorated with bells, and an otter's brush
  impending. The lath sword must be of great antiquity in this
  island, for it hath been the appendage of a Jack Pudding in the
  mountains of Westmoreland time out of mind.

  "The play was opened by this character, with a song, which
  answered the double purpose of a play-bill and a prologue, for
  his duty gave the audience a foretaste of the rueful incidents
  they were about to behold; and it called out the actors one
  by one to make the spectators acquainted with their names and
  characters, walking round and round, till the whole _dramatis
  personæ_ made one great circle on the stage. The audience
  being thus become acquainted with the actors, the play opened
  with Paris running away with Helen, and Menelaus scampering
  after them. Then followed the death of Patroclus, the rage of
  Achilles, the persuasions of Ulysses, etc. etc., and the whole
  was interlarded with apt songs, both serious and comic, all the
  production of auld Hogarth. The bard, however, at this time had
  been dead some years, and I believe this _fête_ was a jubilee to
  his memory: but let it not detract from the memory of Mr. Garrick
  to say, that his at Stratford was but a copy of one forty years
  ago on the banks of Windermere. Was it any improvement, think
  you, to introduce several bulls into the procession instead of
  one?--But I love not comparisons, and so conclude.--Yours, etc.,

  "ADAM WALKER."


[3] It was written for the information of Marshal Belisle, then a
prisoner in Windsor Castle.

[4] In Mr. Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iv. p. 161, we are
told that "_his apprenticeship was no sooner expired, than he entered
into the academy in St. Martin's Lane, and studied drawing from the
life_." In this circumstance, which is in itself trifling, I think
the Right Honourable author has not displayed his usual accuracy.
Hogarth was emancipated from his Cranbourn Alley confinement about
the year 1718, at which time, I believe, there was not an academy
either in that or any other part of London. The first for the use
of students in drawing was opened in 1724, by Sir James Thornhill,
at his house in Covent Garden. On his death, which was in May 1734,
the casts, models, benches, etc., were sent to Mr. Hogarth (who
had four years before married Miss Thornhill); by him they were
afterwards lent to an academy established at what had previously been
_Roubiliac's workshop_, in St. Martin's Lane.

[5] This gentleman was also _a patron_ to the late Mr. Major the
engraver, who told me that when very young, and on the point of going
to Paris for improvement in his profession, he took two plates of
small landscapes, which he had just finished, to Mr. Bowles, who
expressed himself much pleased with the performance of them, and
_generously_ proffered him two pieces of plain copper, of the same
size and weight,--by practising on which, he might still further
_improve_ himself. When I add, that one of the engravings delivered
to this _patron_ was that very pretty little landscape inscribed
EVENING, it is scarcely necessary to say--the offer was rejected.

[6] On a piece of newspaper, dated 1786, and pasted in one of Dr.
Lort's books, was the following remark:--

"The _Hogarth mania_ is as strong as ever. On Thursday the 6th
of April,--it should have been the first,--the Roman Military
Punishments, a paltry work for which no bookseller seven years ago
would have offered more than a few shillings, was sold at Greenwood's
for six pounds, on account of some trifling plates in it by Hogarth."

In the sale of Doctor Lort's library at Leigh and Sotheby's, in 1790,
a copy of Bever's book produced a still larger sum.

[7] In this _improved era_ we have seen examples of _striking
portraits_ which every year assume a new title. A head of Dr.
Franklin was lately transferred from the book for which it was
engraven to the memoirs of a man executed for forgery, whose name it
now bears; _another age_ may see the same print honoured with the
name of some eminent _pugilist_, who at the close of the eighteenth
century _wore the collar of his order_! Such are _the transmigrations
of the arts_,--or, if it better please the reader, _the arts of
transmigration_. Among the _Paternoster Row classics_, there is no
other distinction between a bruiser, a felon, or a philosopher, than
arises from the sale of their memoirs.

[8] On the print of Hudibras and the Lawyer is _William Hogart delin.
et sculp'._ This Mr. Nichols considers as a proof that _Hogarth had
not yet disused the original mode in which he spelt his name_.

From his shop-bill, and every preceding print, I am inclined to
think he never had more than _one mode_ of spelling his name. The
concluding _h_ being in this instance omitted, might arise from
carelessness, or a failure of the aquafortis. His father's Latin
letter, dated 1697, proves that _he_ inserted the final _h_, and I
can discover no reason why his son should discard it.

[9] For this, and some other assistance, Mr. Tyers presented Hogarth
with a gold ticket of admission for himself and friends. On the face,
two figures, one nearly naked, the other armed with a helmet and
shield, are represented on the point of joining hands:--_motto_ round
them, VIRTUS VOLUPTAS; and at the lower part, FELICES UNA. On the
reverse, HOGARTH----IN PERPETUAM BENEFICII MEMORIAM.

This ticket is now in the possession of Mrs. Lewis, of Chiswick.

[10] It seems probable that Sir James was very soon reconciled, for
we find in the Craftsman of March 10, 1732-3, that when Hogarth
painted the portrait of Sarah Malcolm, Sir James Thornhill was
present.

[11] The sum and purchasers of each are noticed in the account of the
engravings.

[12] Among the papers of a lately deceased Virtuosi, I met with
a few MS. sheets, entitled _Hints for a History of the Arts in
Great Britain, from the Accession of the Third George_. The
following extract proves that painting pictures, _called after_
the ancient masters, was not confined to Italy: we had in England
some industrious and laborious artists who, like the unfortunate
Chatterton, gave the honours of their best performances to others.
The narrative has no date, but some allusions to a late sovereign
determine it was a short time before we discovered that there were in
our own poets subjects as worthy of the pencil as any found in the
idle tales of antiquity, or the still more idle legends of popery:--

"The late edict of the Emperor, for selling the pictures of which he
has despoiled the convents, will be a very fortunate circumstance
for many of the artists of this country, whose sole employment is
_painting old pictures_; and this will be a glorious opportunity for
introducing _modern antiques_ into the cabinets of the curious.

"A most indefatigable dealer, apprehensive that there might be
a difficulty, and enormous expense in procuring from abroad a
sufficient quantity to gratify the eagerness of the English
connoisseurs, has taken the more economical method of having a number
painted here. The bill of one of his workmen, which came into my
hands by an accident, I think worth preservation, and have taken a
copy for the information of future ages. Every picture is at present
most sacredly preserved from the public eye, but in the course of
a few months will be smoked into antiquity, and may probably be
announced in manner and form following:--


"TO THE LOVERS OF VIRTU.

"Mr. ---- has the heartfelt pleasure of congratulating the amateurs
of the fine arts upon such an opportunity of enriching their
collections, as no period from the days of the divine Apelles to the
present irradiated era ever produced; nor is it probable that there
ever will be in any future age so splendid, superb, brilliant, and
matchless an assemblage of unrivalled pictures as he begs leave to
announce to the connoisseurs are now exhibiting at his great room
in ----, being the principal part of that _magnificent bouquet_
which have been accumulating for so many ages, been preserved with
religious care, and contemplated with pious awe, while they had an
holy refuge in the peaceful gloom of the convents of Germany. By the
edict of the Emperor they are banished from these consecrated walls,
and are now emerged from obscurity with undiminished lustre! with
all their native charms, mellowed by the tender, softening pencil of
time, and introduced to this emporium of taste! this favourite seat
of the arts! this exhibition-room of the universe; and when seen,
must produce the most pleasing and delightful sensations.

"When it is added, that they were selected by that most judicious and
quick-sighted collector, Monsieur D., it will be unnecessary to say
more; for his penetrating eye and unerring judgment, his boundless
liberality and unremitting industry, have ensured him the protection
of a generous public, ever ready to patronize exertions made solely
for their gratification!

"N.B.--Descriptive catalogues, with the names of the immortal
artists, may be had as above."


THE BILL.

"_Monsieur_ VARNISH _to_ BENJAMIN BISTER, _debtor_.

                                                               £ _s.  d._
  To painting the Woman caught in Adultery, upon a green
    ground, by Hans Holbein                                    3   3   0
  To Solomon's Wise Judgment, on pannel, by Michael
    Angelo Buonorati                                           2  12   6
  To painting and canvas, for a naked Mary Magdalen, in the
    undoubted style of Paul Veronese                           2   2   0
  To brimstone, for smoking ditto                              0   2   6
  Paid Mrs. W---- for a live model to sit for Diana bathing,
    by Tintoretto                                              0  16   8
  Paid for the hire of a layman, to copy the robes of a
    Cardinal, for a Vandyke                                    0   5   0
  Portrait of a Nun doing Penance, by Albrecht Durer           2   2   0
  Paid the female figure for sitting thirty minutes in a wet
    sheet, that I might give the dry manner of that master[13] 0  10   6
  The Tribute-money Rendered, with all the exactness of
    Quintin Metsius, the famed blacksmith of Antwerp           2  12   6
  To Ruth at the feet of Boaz, upon an oak board, by Titiano   3   3   0
  St. Anthony Preaching to the Fishes, by Salvator Rosa        3  10   0
  The Martyrdom of St. Winifred, with a view of Holywell
    bath, by old Frank                                         1  11   6
  To a large allegorical altar-piece, consisting of men and
    angels, horses and river gods; 'tis thought most happily
    hit off for a Rubens                                       5   5   0
  To Susannah Bathing; the two Elders in the background,
    by Castiglione                                             2   2   0
  To the Devil and St. Dunstan, highly finished, by Teniers    2   2   0
  To the Queen of Sheba falling down before Solomon, by
    Morillio                                                   2  12   6
  To a Judith in the Tent of Holofernes, by Le Brun            1  16   0
  To a Sisera in the Tent of Jael, its companion, by the same  1  16   0
  Paid for admission into the House of Peers, to take a sketch
    of a great character, for a picture of Moses breaking the
    Tables of the Law, in the darkest manner of Rembrandt,
    not yet finished                                           0   2   6


[13] Some of the ancient masters acquired a dry manner of painting
from studying after wet drapery.--_Webb on Painting._

[14] The annexed letter, which was published about this time, I have
been informed was written by Hogarth; add to this authority, of which
I have no doubt, I think it carries internal evidence of his mind. It
is printed in the London Magazine for 1737, and thus prefaced:

  The following piece, published in the St. James's Evening Post
  of June 7th, is by the first painter in England, perhaps in the
  world, in his way:

  "Every good-natured man and well-wisher to the Arts in England,
  must feel a kind of resentment at a very indecent paragraph, in
  the Daily Post of Thursday last, relating to the death of _M. de
  Morine_, first painter to the French king, in which very unjust
  as well as cruel reflections are cast on the noblest performance
  (in its way) that England has to boast of,--I mean the work of
  the late Sir James Thornhill, in Greenwich Hall. It has ever
  been the business of narrow, little geniuses, who by a tedious
  application to minute parts have (as they fancy) attained to a
  great insight into the correct drawing of a figure, and have
  acquired just knowledge enough in the art to tell accurately
  when a toe is too short or a finger too thick, to endeavour, by
  detracting from the merits of great men, to build themselves a
  kind of reputation. These peddling demi-critics, on the painful
  discovery of some little inaccuracy (which proceeds mostly from
  the freedom of the pencil), without any regard to the more noble
  parts of a performance (which they are totally ignorant of), with
  great satisfaction condemn the whole as a bad and incorrect piece.

      'The meanest artist in the Emelian square,
      Can imitate in brass the nails or hair;
      Expert at trifles, and a cunning fool,
      Able to express the parts, but not the whole.'

  "There is another set of gentry, more noxious to the art than
  these, and those are your _picture-jobbers from abroad_, who
  are always ready to raise a great cry in the prints, whenever
  they think their craft is in danger; and indeed it is their
  interest to depreciate every English work as hurtful to their
  trade of continually importing ship-loads of _Dead Christs_,
  _Holy Families_, _Madonnas_, and other dismal dark subjects,
  neither entertaining nor ornamental, on which they scrawl the
  terrible cramp names of some _Italian_ masters, and fix on us
  poor Englishmen the character of _universal dupes_. If a man,
  naturally a judge of painting, not bigoted to those empirics,
  should cast his eye on one of their sham virtuoso pieces, he
  would be very apt to say: Mr. Bubbleman, that grand _Venus_,
  as you are pleased to call it, has not beauty enough for the
  character of an English cook-maid. Upon which the quack answers,
  with a confident air: 'Sir, I find that you are no _connoisseur_;
  the picture, I assure you, is in Alesso Baldminetto's second
  and best manner, boldly painted, and truly sublime: the contour
  gracious: the air of the head in the high Greek taste; and a
  most divine idea it is.--Then spitting in an obscure place, and
  rubbing it with a dirty handkerchief, takes a skip to t'other
  end of the room, and screams out in raptures, 'There's an
  amazing touch! A man should have this picture a twelvemonth in
  his collection before he can discover half its beauties!' The
  gentleman (though naturally a judge of what is beautiful, yet
  ashamed to be out of the fashion, by judging for himself) with
  this cant is struck dumb; gives a vast sum for the picture, very
  modestly confesses he is indeed quite ignorant of painting,
  and bestows a frame worth fifty pounds on a frightful thing,
  which, without the hard name, is not worth so many farthings.
  Such impudence as is now continually practised in the picture
  trade must meet with its proper treatment, would gentlemen but
  venture to see with their own eyes. Let but the comparison of
  pictures with nature be their only guide, and let them judge as
  freely of painting as they do of poetry, they would then take it
  for granted, that when a piece gives pleasure to none but these
  _connoisseurs_, or their adherents, if the purchase be a thousand
  pounds, 'tis nine hundred and ninety-nine too dear; and were all
  our grand collections stripped of such sort of trumpery, then,
  and not till then, it would be worth an Englishman's while to try
  the strength of his genius to supply their place, which now it
  were next to madness to attempt, since there is nothing that has
  not travelled a thousand miles, or has not been done a hundred
  years, but is looked upon as mean and ungenteel furniture. What
  Mr. Pope in his last work says of poems, may with much more
  propriety be applied to pictures:

      'Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old;
      It is the rust we value, not the gold.'

  "Sir James Thornhill, in a too modest compliance with the
  _connoisseurs_ of his time, called in the assistance of Mr.
  Andre, a foreigner, famous for the fulness of his outline, to
  paint the Royal Family at the upper end of Greenwich Hall, to
  the beauties or faults of which I have nothing to say; but with
  regard to the ceiling, which is entirely of his own hand, I am
  certain all unprejudiced persons, with (or without) much insight
  into the mechanic parts of painting, are at the first view struck
  with the most agreeable harmony and play of colours that ever
  delighted the eye of a spectator. The composition is _altogether_
  extremely grand, the groups finely disposed, the light and shade
  so contrived as to throw the eye with pleasure on the principal
  figures, which are drawn with great fire and judgment; the
  colouring of the flesh delicious, the drapery great and well
  folded; and upon examination, the allegory is found clear, well
  invented, and full of learning: in short, all that is necessary
  to constitute a complete ceiling-piece is apparent in that
  magnificent work. Thus much is in justice to that great English
  artist.

  "BRITOPHIL.

  "N.B.--If the reputation of this work were destroyed, it would
  put a stop to the receipt of daily sums of money from spectators,
  which is applied to the use of sixty charity children."


[15] The book alluded to is, "_A Tracte containing the Artes of
curious Paintinge, Carvinge, and Buildinge_, written first in Italian
by Jo. Paul Lomatius, Painter of Milan, and Englished by R. H.
(Richard Haydocke), Student in Physick." Published 1598.

From this visionary writer he could not borrow much, great part of
his book treating of the different important consequences which had
resulted from the study of the proportions of the human body. It is
dedicated to the Right Worshipful Thomas Bodley, Esquire, warmly
recommended by John Case, doctor of physic; and in the following
quaint lines, the translator apologizeth for thus employing himself:--


"TO THE INGENIOUS READER. R. H.

"How hard a matter it is to withstand any natural instinct, and
habitual inclination whatsoever, the storie of the Syracusane
Archimedes (besides divers others to this purpose) may sufficiently
persuade; who was so rapt with the sweetness of his mathematical
conclusions, that even then when the enemie had entered the gates of
the citie he was found drawing of lines upon the sand, when perchance
it had bin fitter for a philosopher to have bin advising in the
counsell-house.

"Not much unlike to whome I may peradventure seeme, who at this time
especially, when the unappeasable enimies of health, sicknesse,
and mortality have so mightily prevailed against us, am here found
drawing of _lines and lineaments, portraitures, and proportions_,
when (in regard of my place and profession) it might much better
have beseemed mee to have bin found in the colledge of physicians,
learning and counselling such remedies as might make for the common
health; or if I must needes be doing about _lines_, to have commented
upon this proposition, _mors ultima linea rerum_.

"Howbeit, as I find not him much taxed in the storie for this his
diligent carelessness, because he was busied about matters which
were not onlie an ornament of peace, but also of good use in warre,
so my hope is (ingenious reader), that my sedulous trifling shall
meete with thy friendliest interpretation; insomuch as the arte I
now deale in shall be proved not onlie a grace to health, but also a
contentment and recreation unto sickeness, and a kind of preservative
against death and mortality; by a perpetual preserving of _their_
shades, whose substances physicke could not prolong, no, not for a
season," _etc. etc._

In his treatise of colours, he makes the following addresse to his
faire countrie wommen:--

"Having intreated of so many and divers thinges, I could not but say
something of such matters as _woemen_ use ordinarilly in beautifying
and imbelishing their faces; a thing well worth the knowledge,
insomuch as many women are so possessed with a desire of helping
their complexions by some artificial meanes, that they will by
no meanes be diswaded from the same." He then enumerates ceruse,
plume alume, juice of lemons, oil of tartarie, camphire, and sundry
other cosmetics of the day, all which he takes many pages to prove
are _enemies to health, and hurtful to the complexion_, and thus
adviseth: "Wherefore if there bee no remedie, but women will be
meddling with this arte of _pollishing_, let them, instead of those
mineral stuffes, use the remedies following.

"_Of such helpes of Beauty as may safely be used without danger._

"There is nothing in the world which doth more beautifie and adorne
a woman than chearfulness, contentment, and good temper. For it is
not the red and white which giveth the gracious perfection of beauty,
but certaine sparkling notes and touches of amiable chearfulness
accompanying the same. The truth whereof may appear in a discontented
woman, otherwise exceeding faire, who atte that instant will seem yll
favoured and unloovely; as contrariwise, an hard-favoured and browne
woman, being merry, pleasaunte, and jocund, will seem sufficient
beautiful."

[16] Of this figure he thus writes in his chapter on _Compositions
with the Serpentine Line_:--

"We have had recourse to the works of the ancients, not because the
moderns have not produced some as excellent, but because the works
of the former are more generally known; nor would we have it thought
that either of them has ever yet come up to the utmost beauty of
nature. Who but a bigot to the _antiques_ will say, that he has not
seen faces and necks, hands and arms, in living women, that even the
Grecian Venus doth but coarsely imitate?"

[17] Hogarth might possibly have some oblique allusion to the
manner in which _Cæsar suffered_ in the capitol _of an English
theatre.--They might as well have hanged him_; or, _the actor
deserved hanging for so personating the character_,--which the reader
likes best.

In an early impression of the print I have seen written (I believe by
Hogarth) on the pedestal upon which this figure is placed, TU BRUTE.
That he greatly disliked Quin, is evident from the following epigram,
with the injustice or justice of which I have nothing to do, but to
the painter it is attributed:--

        "Your servant, Sir," says surly Quin.--
        "Sir, I am yours," replies Macklin.--
      "Why, you're the very Jew you play,
        Your face performs the task well."--
      "And you are Sir John Brute, they say,
        And an accomplished Maskwell."
      Says Rich, who heard the sneering elves,
        And knew their horrid hearts,
      "Acting too much your very selves,
        You overdo your parts."


[18] In the Analysis, he asserts that a completely new and harmonious
order of architecture might be produced by making choice of variety
of lines, and then again, by varying their situations with each
other; in a word, that the art of composing well is the art of
varying well. In the frontispiece to Brook Taylor's perspective, he
has given an example, by a broken sceptre, somewhat resembling the
Roman fasces, and girt round with the Prince of Wales' coronet, as
an astragal, through which the fasces rise, and swell into a crown
adorned with embroidered stars.

[19] Mr. Shee, in his _Rhymes on Art_, has very happily introduced a
similar character, accompanied by _congenial connoisseurs_:--

      "No awkward heir that o'er Campania's plain,
      Has scamper'd like a monkey in his chain;
      No ambush'd ass, that, hid in learning's maze,
      Kicks at desert, and crops wit's budding bays;
      No baby grown, that still his coral keeps,
      And sucks the thumb of science till he sleeps;
      No mawkish son of sentiment who strains
      Soft sonnet drops from barley-water brains;
      No pointer of a paragraph, no peer,
      That hangs a picture-pander at his ear;
      No smatterer of the ciceroni crew,
      No pauper of the parish of Virtú;
      But starts an Aristarchus on the town,
      To hunt full cry dejected merit down;
      With sapient shrug assumes the critic's part,
      And loud deplores the sad decline in art."


[20] "The dancing-room is also ornamented purposely with such statues
and pictures as may serve to a further illustration. Henry VIII.,
Number 72, makes a perfect X with his legs and arms; and the position
of Charles I., Number 51, is composed of less varied lines than the
statue of Edward VI., Number 73, and the medal over his head is in
the like kind of lines; but that over Queen Elizabeth, as well as her
figure, is in the contrary; so are also the two other wooden figures
at the end. Likewise the comical posture of astonishment (expressed
by following the direction of one plain curve) as the dotted line in
a French print of Sancho (where Don Quixote demolishes the puppet
show); Number 75 is a good contrast to the effect of the serpentine
lines, in the fine turn of the Samaritan woman; Number 74, taken from
one of the best pictures Annibal Carrache ever painted."--Hogarth's
_Analysis_, p. 137.

[21] A newspaper of 1781 has the following advertisement:--

"MINUET DE LA COUR, DEVONSHIRE, LE ROI, STATUTE, SURPRISE.

"A gentleman of merit, well educated and properly qualified by
seven of the best masters that ever trod on English ground, teaches
the above minuets to noblemen and real ladies only, for the sum
of five guineas, paid down, with all the excelled graces of the
head, body, arms, wrists, hands, fingers, toes, sinks, risings,
bounds, rebounds, twirls, twists, fourfold mercuries, coupees,
borees, flourishes, demi-corpus, curtseys _à-la-mode_, hat on,
off, giving hands and feet, in an advanced octagon adorned style,
and divided into one, two, three, or four steps exact to time or
bars; introducing at the same moment the _à-la-mode_ form, Chassa's
springs, five and nine orders of the graces, and annexed with the
rigadoon, Louvre, cotillion, and ancient and modern hornpipe steps
and elegant country-dance positions.--The said gentleman is no common
dancing-master, has some character to lose; _therefore_ ladies of a
common capacity may soon attain to dance equal to the best French or
Italian dancer in this kingdom, only for five guineas, on applying to
Number 79 in the Haymarket, between ten and eleven in the morning,
and four and six in the afternoon, and they will be seen by the
aforesaid _gentleman_ himself."

In his Analysis, Mr. Hogarth thus writeth:--

"The minuet is allowed by dancing-masters themselves to be the
perfection of all dancing. I once heard an eminent dancing-master
say, that the minuet had been the study of his whole life, and that
he had been indefatigable in the pursuit of its beauties, yet at last
could only say with Socrates, _he knew nothing_; adding, that I was
happy in my profession as a painter, in that some bounds might be set
to the study of it."

[22] Mr. Wilkes informs us that this subject was not thought of until
_after_ the publication of Marriage à la Mode. _In_ CHRONOLOGY, _the
Chamberlain is not so accurate as Doctor Trusler!_

[23] Mr. Townley, under the signature of a connoisseur, wrote the
following lines to Mr. Hogarth on his _Analysis of Beauty_:--

      "How could you dare, advent'rous man,
      To execute so bold a plan,
        Or such unheard of truths advance?
      At once so rashly to oppose
      Those fierce, outrageous, hardy foes,
        _Fraud_, _Prejudice_, and _Ignorance_!

      "To their despotic, cruel sway,
      Fair Science long has been a prey,
        All _modern art_ they trampled down;
      The rising genius they deprest,
      The British taste they turned to jest,
        And damn'd at once--because our own.

      "The slavish principle _I_ caught,
      The southern land of merit sought,
        And learn'd to think, to see, to say
      Eager I ran through every town,
      Penn'd every observation down,
        And gather'd judgment by the way.

      "On foreign tales and terms of art,
      On scraps of French, got well by heart,
        And _learned guides_, was my reliance;
      With light and shade my head I fill,
      The _style_ of schools was all my skill.
        _The painter's name_ was all my science.

      "Thus deeply tutor'd, I return'd,
      And o'er my tasteless country mourn'd;
        I pitied first, then laugh'd and sneer'd;
      Then curs'd the crude unfinish'd tints,
      The statues, busto's, vases, prints,
        When lo! th' ANALYSIS appear'd.

      "I smil'd and read; grew grave--read on;
      Was pleas'd; the truths apparent shone;
        Nor could my prejudice resist 'em.
      _The Line of Beauty_ I survey'd,
      The arguments I fairly weigh'd,
        And then acknowledg'd all your system.

      "With reverence, and respect, like you,
      The ancient works of art I view;
        But, like you, see with my own eyes;
      Abhor the tricks so grossly play'd,
      Lament the science sunk to trade,
        And dealers from my soul despise.

      "Pursue, unrivall'd yet, that art,
      Which bounteous nature did impart
        (Ne'er to be so profuse again):
      Our sons, in time to come, shall strive
      Where the chief honour they shall give,
        Or to your pencil or your pen."

Hogarth had previously presented this gentleman with a volume of his
prints, in return for which he received the following very flattering
testimony to his talents:--

  "TRINITY LANE, _Feb. 28, 1750_.

  "DEAR SIR,--Having been confined to my house by a violent cold,
  I have had many hours for contemplation, which at such a time
  generally turns on my friends, among whom you have been so good
  to let me call you one. Your late kind intention came into my
  mind, and gave me an uncommon degree of satisfaction; not on
  my own account only, but with respect to my family. Your works
  I shall treasure up as a family book, or rather as one of the
  classics, from which I shall regularly instruct my children,
  just in the same manner as I should out of Homer or Virgil. You
  will be read in your course,--and it will be no unusual thing
  to find me in a morning in my great chair, with my three bigger
  boys about me, construing the sixth chapter of the Harlot's
  Progress, or comparing the two characters in the first book of
  the 'Prentices.

  "You are one of the first great men I ever was acquainted with,
  and the first great man I desire to be acquainted with, because
  you have neither insolence nor vanity. Your character has been
  sketched in different pieces, by different authors, and great
  encomiums bestowed on you here and there in English, French,
  Latin, and Greek: but I want to see a full portrait of you. I
  wish I were as intimate with you, and as well qualified for the
  purpose, as your friend Fielding,--I would undertake it. I have
  made an humble attempt here towards something, but I am afraid
  it has more of a death's head than the face of a man.--You won't
  be dispirited because my character of you is in the form of an
  epitaph, for you will observe at the bottom that I have given you
  a great length of days.

  "In the corner, near Shakspeare, in Westminster Abbey, on a
  monument, elegant only by neatness and symmetry, the next
  generation may see something like the enclosed inscription, the
  freedom of which you will excuse, and consider it as coming from
  a man confined to his room, but from one who is ever, dear sir,
  your constant admirer, and most obliged servant,

  "JAMES TOWNLEY.

  "_To Mr. Hogarth in Leicester Fields._

  "AD GULIELMUM HOGARTH,
  DUM TU QUID PULCHRUM, QUID TURPE, VOLUMINE DICIS,
  NATURÆQUE DOCES QUID SJT, ET ARTIS OPUS,
  ATQUE ANIMO CAUSAS, OCULO TABULASQUE DEDISTI,
  PICTORIS PRIMI NOMEN UTRINQUE PERES."


[24] The work was translated into German, under the author's
inspection, by Mr. Mylins; and with two large plates and twenty-two
sheets of letterpress, printed in London at five dollars.

A new and correct edition was (July 1st, 1754) proposed for
publication at Berlin by Ch. Fr. Vok, with an explanation of Mr.
Hogarth's satirical prints, translated from the French; the whole to
_subscribers_ for one dollar, but after six weeks to be raised to two
dollars.

An Italian translation was published at Leghorn, 1761, octavo,
dedicated _Al illustrissime Signora Diana Molineux dama Inglese_.

That Sterne had read the Analysis, appears by the following
_reference recommendatory_, in the first volume of _Tristram
Shandy_:--

" ... Such were the outlines of Doctor Slop's figure, which, if you
have read Hogarth's _Analysis of Beauty_, and if you have not, I wish
you would, you must know may be as certainly caricatured and conveyed
to the mind by three strokes as three hundred." Hogarth's engraving
of the air-balloon figure is said to be intended for Doctor Burton,
the Jacobite physician of York; a microscopic miniature of the plate
(so small that it requires the aid of a glass) is in the engraved
frontispiece to these volumes.

[25] He bought the picture in for Lady Schaub, and she has since sold
it to the present Henry Duke of Newcastle.

[26] The original letter is in the possession of the editor, and
with all the circumstances relating to the transaction, _copied from
Hogarth's handwriting_, published in the third volume of this work.

[27] The correspondence between Sir Richard Grosvenor and Mr. Hogarth
relative to the picture of Sigismunda is in the 3d volume of this
work.

[28] I mean to speak of alterations suggested by his friends: to
the public at large, if we can confide in the following note, which
I found in a volume of the late Doctor Lort's, he paid little
attention:--

"HOGARTH'S SIGISMUNDA.

"He placed that picture, which in spite of all the critics could say
against it, had infinite merits in the view of the public, and at
the same time placed a man in an adjoining room to write down all
objections that each spectator made to it. Of these there were a
thousand at least, but Hogarth told the writer of this[29] that he
attended only to one, and that was made by a madman; and perceiving
the objection was founded, he altered it. The madman, after looking
stedfastly on the picture for some time, suddenly turned away,
exclaiming,--_Hang it_, I hate these white roses. The artist then,
and not till then, observed that the foldings of Sigismunda's
_chemise_ sleeves were too regular, and had more the appearance of
roses than of linen. I know not in whose possession this picture now
is, but I will venture to pronounce, that nowhere can distress be
more forcibly exprest on canvas: it is a distress, not of the minute,
but the day."

[29] The late Philip Thicknesse, Esq.

[30] The attack was commenced in No. 17 of the _North Briton_, which
was published on the 17th of September 1762. On the 16th, Mr. Hogarth
being at Salisbury, called upon the colonel of the Buckinghamshire
militia (who was then quartered in the neighbourhood), with the
good-natured intention of shaking hands: as _his old friend_ was
not at home, they neither met then, nor at any future period. In my
account of the _Times_ there are a few strictures on this political
pasquinade, which was followed by much metrical lampoon from the
reverend Mr. Churchill. Let us hear his coadjutor, Robert Lloyd, who
in a fable entitled _Genius_, _Envy_, and _Time_, gives TIME the
following speech:--

      "Yet, Genius, mark what I presage,
      Who look through every distant age:
      Merit shall bless thee with her charms,
      Fame lift thy offspring in her arms,
      And stamp eternity of grace
      On all thy numerous, various race.
      Roubiliac, Wilton, names as high
      As Phidias of antiquity,
      Shall strength, expression, manner give,
      And make e'en marble breathe and live,
      While Sigismunda's deep distress,
      Which looks the soul of wretchedness;
      _When I_, with slow and soft'ning pen,
      Have gone o'er all the tints agen,
      Shall urge a bold and proper claim
      To level half the ancient fame;
      While future ages yet unknown,
      With critic air shall proudly own,
      Thy Hogarth first of every clime,
      For humour keen, or strong sublime,
      And hail him from his fire and spirit,
      The child of Genius and of Merit."

      --_Lloyd's Works_, p. 204.


[31] I learn from Mr. Nichols, that he was a dupe to flattery; that
his easiness of disposition should be practised on is natural, but
that any of _his friends_ should boast of such an imposition as the
following, is extraordinary:--

" ... A word in favour of Sigismunda might have commanded a proof
print, or forced an original sketch out of our artist's hand. The
furnisher of this remark owes one of his scarcest performances to the
success of a compliment which might have stuck even in Sir Godfrey
Kneller's throat."--_Nichols' Anecdotes_, p. 55.

[32] Having given Mr. Walpole's remarks, it is but fair to insert
that part of the Analysis which gave rise to them:--

"Notwithstanding the deep-rooted notion, even amongst the majority of
painters themselves, that Time is a great improver of good pictures,
I will undertake to show that nothing can be more absurd. Having
mentioned the whole effect of the oil, let us now see in what manner
Time operates on the colours themselves, in order to discover if any
changes in them can give a picture more union and harmony than has
been in the power of a skilful master with all his rules of art to
do. When colours change at all, it must be somewhat in the manner
following; for as they are made, some of metal, some of earth, some
of stone, and others of more perishable materials, Time cannot
operate on them otherwise than as by daily experience we find it
doth, which is, that one changes darker, another lighter, one quite
to a different colour, whilst another, as ultra-marine, will keep its
natural brightness even in the fire. THEREFORE, how is it possible
that such different materials, ever variously changing (visibly,
after a certain time), should accidentally coincide with the artist's
intention, and bring about the greater harmony of the piece, when it
is manifestly contrary to their nature; for do we not see, in most
collections, that much time disunites, untunes, blackens, and by
degrees destroys, even the best preserved pictures?

"But if, for argument's sake, we suppose that the colours were to
fall equally together, let us see what sort of advantage this would
give to any sort of composition: we will begin with a flower-piece.
When a master hath painted a rose, a lily, an african, a gentinnella,
or violet, with his best art and brightest colours, how far short
do they fall of the freshness and rich brilliancy of nature! And
shall we wish to see them fall still lower, more faint, sullied, and
dirtied by the hand of Time, and then admire them as having gained an
additional beauty, and call them mended and heightened, rather than
fouled, and in a manner destroyed? How absurd! instead of mellowed
and softened, therefore, always read yellow and sullied; for this is
doing Time, the destroyer, but common justice. Or shall we desire to
see complexions, which in life are often literally as brilliant as
the flowers above mentioned, served in the like ungrateful manner?
In a landscape, will the water be more transparent, or the sky shine
with a greater lustre, when embrowned and darkened by decay? Surely
no.--These opinions have given rise to another absurdity, viz. that
_the colours now-a-days_ do not stand so well as formerly; whereas
colours well prepared, in which there are but little art or expense,
have, and will always have, the same properties in every age; and
without accidents, damps, bad varnish, and the like (being laid
separate and pure), will stand and keep together for many years in
defiance of Time itself."

[33] "It may be truly observed of Hogarth, that all his powers of
delighting were confined to his pencil. Having rarely been admitted
into polite circles, none of his sharp comers had been rubbed off,
so that he continued to the last a gross, uncultivated man. The
slightest contradiction transported him into rage. To be member of a
club consisting of mechanics, or those not many removes above them,
seems to have been the utmost of his social ambition; but even in
these assemblies he was oftener sent to _Coventry_, for misbehaviour,
than any other person who frequented them. He is said to have beheld
the rising eminence and popularity of Sir Joshua Reynolds with a
degree of envy; and, if I am not misinformed, spoke with asperity
both of him and his performances. Justice, however, obliges me to
add that our artist was liberal, hospitable, and the most punctual
of paymasters; so that, in spite of the emoluments his works had
procured to him, he left but an inconsiderable fortune to his
widow."--_Nichols' Anecdotes_, p. 97.

[34] In furniture, decorations, etc., this place has not been altered
since his death. There is not one of his own prints, but in the
parlour are framed engravings from Sir James Thornhill's paintings in
St. Paul's Cathedral, and the Houbraken heads of Shakspeare, Spencer,
and Dryden. The garden is laid out in a good style: over the door is
a cast of George the Second's mask, in lead, and in one corner a rude
and shapeless stone, placed upright against the wall, and inscribed,

  ALAS, POOR DICK!
  OB. 1760.
  AGED ELEVEN.

Beneath the inscriptions are two cross bones of birds, surmounted
with a heart and death's head. The sculpture was made with a nail,
by the hand of Hogarth, and placed there in memory of a favourite
bullfinch, who is deposited beneath.

[35] This is Doctor Johnson's epitaph, and he wrote only four. He has
broken his own rule, that the name should always be inserted in the
body of the verse.

[36] The verses, as first written by Mr. Garrick, and now in the
possession of Mr. James Townley, are as follows:--

      "If thou hast genius, reader, stay;
        If thou hast feeling, drop the tear;--
      If thou hast neither,--hence, away,
        For Hogarth's dear remains lie here.
      His matchless works, of fame secure,
        Shall live our country's pride and boast,
      As long as nature shall endure,
        And only in her wreck be lost."


[37] In the _Daily Advertiser_ of January 27, 1783, I find the
following advertisement:--

  "HOGARTH'S ORIGINAL WORKS.

  "As an opinion generally prevails, that the genuine impressions
  of Hogarth's works are very bad, and the plates retouched, Mrs.
  Hogarth is under the necessity of acquainting the public in
  general, and the admirers of her deceased husband's works in
  particular, that it has been owing to a want of proper attention
  in the conducting this work for some years past that the
  impressions in general have not done justice to the condition of
  the plates; and she has requested some gentlemen, most eminent in
  the art of engraving, to inspect the plates, who have given the
  following opinion:--

  "LONDON, _January 21, 1873_.

  "We, whose names are underwritten, having carefully examined
  the copperplates published by the late Mr. Hogarth, are fully
  convinced that they have not been retouched since his death.

  "FRANCIS BARTOLOZZI.

  "WM. WOOLLET.

  "WM. WYNNE RYLAND."


[38] Notwithstanding this, Mrs. Lewis told me, that a gentleman who
possessed a collection of Hogarth's works, once requested she would
lend him the plates for the purpose of having a set faintly taken
off, as a contrast to his own. It is scarcely necessary to say this
_modest request_ was refused, and she received much consequent abuse.

[39] He frequently drew sketches of heads upon his nail, and when he
came home, copied them on paper, from whence they were transferred to
his plates.

[40] See two large pictures of the Good Samaritan, and the Pool of
Bethesda, which he presented to St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

[41] G. M. Stainforth, Esq., of Berkeley Square, has in his
possession a portrait of the late Justice Walsh, which, for a wager,
Mr. Hogarth painted in less than an hour, and it is said to be a
strong resemblance.

[42] This observation extends no further than to his conversations
among his intimates.

"Mr. Walpole once invited Gray the poet and Hogarth to dine with
him; but what with the reserve of the one, and a want of colloquial
talents in the other, he never passed a duller time than between
these two representatives of tragedy and comedy, being obliged to
rely entirely on his own efforts to support conversation."--Nichols'
_Anecdotes_, p. 97.

Johnson, though his colloquial powers were gigantic, could not speak
in the Society of Arts: he could not, as he himself expressed it,
_get on_.

[43] In this he resembled a man whose simplicity of manners and
integrity of life give me a pride in avowing myself one of his
descendants.

"He could not bear that any one should in their absence be evil
spoken of; and in such cases frequently recommended the person who
censured to peruse that verse in Leviticus xix. 14, which says, _Thou
shalt not curse the deaf_"; adding, "Those that are _absent_ are
deaf."--_Life of Rev. Philip Henry_, Orton's edition, p. 252.

[44] A merchant named Purse, whom he never saw, left him a legacy of
one hundred pounds, as a trifling acknowledgment for the pleasure
and information the testator had received from his works. By this
solitary testimony to his talents he was highly gratified.

[45] The attendant represents John Gourlay, the Colonel's favourite
and confidant.

[46] To show how fair an object for satire the painter has selected,
and how properly he has hung up such a miscreant as an example for
posterity to avoid, part of it is inserted:--

  Here continueth to rot,
  the body of FRANCIS CHARTRES;
  who, with an INFLEXIBLE CONSTANCY, and
  INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY of life,
  PERSISTED,
  in spite of AGE and INFIRMITIES,
  in the practice of EVERY HUMAN VICE,
  excepting PRODIGALITY and HYPOCRISY.
  His insatiable AVARICE exempted him from the first;
  his matchless IMPUDENCE from the second.

  Oh, indignant reader!
  think not his life useless to mankind;
  Providence connived at his execrable designs,
  to give to after ages a conspicuous
  proof and example
  of how small estimation is EXORBITANT WEALTH
  in the sight of GOD, by His bestowing it on
  the most UNWORTHY OF ALL MORTALS.


[47] Mother Needham, who stood in the pillory at Park Place on the
5th of May 1734, and was so roughly treated by the populace that she
died a few days afterwards. The crime for which she suffered was,
_keeping a disorderly house_.

[48] The _Grub Street Journal_ for August 6, 1730, giving an account
of several prostitutes who were taken up, informs us that "the fourth
was Kate Hackabout (whose brother was lately hanged at Tyburn), a
woman noted in and about the hundreds of Drury, etc."

[49] Among a great number of copies which the success of these prints
tempted obscure artists to make, there was one set printed on two
large sheets of paper for G. King, Brownlow Street, which, being made
with Hogarth's consent, may possibly contain some additions suggested
and inserted by his directions. In this plate, beneath the sign of
the Bell, is inscribed, PARSONS INTIER BUTT BEAR.

[50] The attendant black boy gave the foundation of an ill-natured
remark by Quin, when Garrick once attempted the part of Othello. "He
pretend to play Othello!" said the surly satirist; "he pretend to
play Othello! He wants nothing but the tea-kettle and lamp to qualify
him for Hogarth's Pompey!"

[51] In the copies printed for G. King, this picture has a label,
Jonah, why art thou angry? and under the lower portrait is written,
Mr. Woolston.

[52] This has been said to be a portrait, but of whom I never could
get any information.

[53] In Rembrandt's "Abraham's Offering," in the Houghton collection
now at Petersburgh, the knife dropping from the hand of the patriarch
appears in a falling state.

[54] This paper is a pastoral letter from Gibson Bishop of London,
and intimates that the writings of grave prelates were sometimes to
be found in chandlers' shops, as they are even unto this day.

[55] Following the Doctor's name are the letters S.T.P., _sanctæ
theologiæ professor_. A fellow not knowing the import of these
dignifying capitals, well enough translated them, SAUCY TROUBLESOME
PUPPY.

[56] When Theodore, the unfortunate king of Corsica, was so reduced
as to lodge in a garret in Dean Street, Soho, a number of gentlemen
made a collection for his relief. The chairman of their committee
informed him by letter, that on the following day, at twelve o'clock,
two of the society would wait upon his Majesty with the money. To
give his _Attic_ apartment an appearance of royalty, the poor monarch
placed an arm-chair on his half-testered bed, and seating himself
under the scanty canopy, gave what he thought might serve as the
representation of a throne. When his two visitors entered the room,
he graciously held out his right hand, that they might have the
honour of--kissing it!

[57] Sir John Gonson, a justice of peace, very active in the
suppression of brothels. In a view of the town in 1735, by T. Gilbert
(Fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge), are the following lines:--

      "Though laws severe to punish crimes were made,
      What honest man is of these laws afraid?
      All felons against judges will exclaim,
      As harlots tremble at a Gonson's name."

Pope has noticed him in his Imitation of Dr. Donne, and Loveling in a
very elegant Latin Ode. Thus, between the poets and the painter, the
name of this harlot-hunting justice is transmitted to posterity. He
died on the 9th of January 1765.

[58] Such well-dressed females are rarely met with in our present
house of correction; but her splendid appearance is sufficiently
warranted by the following paragraph in the _Grub Street Journal_ of
September 14, 1730:--

"One Mary Moffat, a woman of great note in the hundreds of Drury,
who about a fortnight ago was committed to hard labour in Tothill
Fields Bridewell, by nine justices, brought his Majesty's writ of
_habeas corpus_, and was carried before the Right Honourable the
Lord Chief-Justice Raymond, expecting to have been either bailed
or discharged; but her commitment appearing to be legal, his
lordship thought fit to remand her back again to her former place
of confinement, where she is now beating hemp in a gown very richly
laced with silver."

[59] The notorious breaches of trust and cruelties of which
Bainbridge, Cuthbert, and other keepers of prisons were about this
time guilty, attracted the attention of the House of Commons,
who appointed a committee to inquire into the abuses, which were
afterwards in a degree corrected.

[60] There may be some who will object to this word, as too important
for the action. I have the example of a very eminent personage,
dignified with the pompous addition of B.D., to justify its
insertion. This great man, a few years ago, placed against the wall
of his house, in the neighbourhood of Hatton Garden, a board, broad
as a church-door, on which was inscribed, in letters of two feet
long, THE DESTROYER LIVES HERE. On a close inspection of the sign,
it appeared to be sprinkled over with a number of little black dots
intended to represent bugs.

[61] The meagre figure is a portrait of Dr. Misaubin, a foreigner, at
that time in considerable practice.

These disputes, I have been told, sometimes happen at a consultation
of regular physicians, and a patient has been so unpolite as to die
before they could determine on the name of his disorder.

      "About the symptoms, how they disagree,
      But how unanimous about the fee!"


[62] The enumeration of its various virtues and never-failing
efficacy, at this enlightened and philosophical period, covers one
side of a house in Long Acre.

[63] The woman seated next to the divine was intended for Elizabeth
Adams, who, on the 10th of September 1737, at the age of thirty, was
executed for a robbery which had been attended with circumstances
that aggravated the crime.

[64] When the celebrated Nancy Elliot found that she must pass "that
bourne from whence no traveller returns," she was very solicitous
to see her sister, whose life had not been strictly virtuous, to
deliver her last advice and dying admonition. Her father used his
best endeavours to effect this pious purpose, but was too late; and
reached her house, accompanied by his other daughter, a few moments
before she died.

When her death was announced, he grasped his remaining child by the
hand, and, pointing to her emaciated sister, pathetically exclaimed,
"Look there!"--and sunk down in a swoon, from which he was with
difficulty recovered.

[65] Under a pirated set of the "Harlot's Progress," published by
Boitard, were inscribed six miserable verses; our painter of domestic
story, finding they had some effect, requested his friend Dr. Hoadley
to explain the "Rake's Progress" by poetical illustrations. The
request was complied with, and the verses to each print are added to
this work.

[66] It has been generally said that this is an appraiser and
undertaker; let not these venerable dealers in dust any longer suffer
the disgrace of so unjust an insinuation. That the artist intended to
delineate a lawyer, is clearly intimated by his old, uncurled tie-wig
and the baize bag. We cannot mistake these obtrusive ensigns of the
craft, or mystery, or profession, of which this hoary villain is a
member.

[67] That this gentleman is a Parisian, there can be little doubt.
He has all the violent grace and _outré_ air of his country and
profession.

[68] One Dubois, a Frenchman, memorable for his high opinion of the
science of defence, which he declared superior to all other arts and
sciences united. On the 4th of May 1734, he fought a duel with an
Irishman of his own name--and was killed!

[69] Figg, the famous prize-fighter, who raised himself to the
pinnacle of the temple of fame by conquering a number of hardy
Hibernians, before that time deemed invincible. Under a print of his
head is the following inscription:

A FIGG FOR THE IRISH.

[70] This has been generally said to be intended for Handel, and
bears a strong resemblance to his portrait.

[71] Old Bridgeman, eminent for his taste in the plans of gardens
and plantations. As he was a worshipper of the modern style, scorned
the square precision of the old school, and attempted to "create
landscape, to realize painting, and improve nature," Hogarth might
have given him a better design than that which he holds in his hand;
it has all the regular formality that distinguishes the aquatic
froggery of a Dutch burgomaster:

      "Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother,
      And half the platform just reflects the other."


[72] A bravo is more properly an Italian than an English character;
but even in England, the aid of an assassin may be useful, when a man
dare not resent an affront in _propria persona_.

This gunpowder hero being introduced, and evidently waiting for
orders, seems covertly to intimate that Thomas Rakewell, Esq., in
addition to his other excellent qualities, is a coward.

[73] On the silver cup which the jockey is presenting, we see
inscribed, "Won at Epsom by Silly Tom." Our sagacious esquire seems
to have lent his own name to his favourite horse.

[74] The attitude of Venus is graceful; but the cool indifference
and _sang froid_ of the Trojan shepherd, carelessly and coolly
seated while the fair competitors for the prize are standing up, is
intolerable.

[75] The Reverend Mr. Gilpin.

[76] This is the portrait of one Leathercoat, many years a porter at
the Rose Tavern, and remarkable for his universal knowledge of women
of the town.

[77] Hogarth seems to have had a great fancy for bringing King
David into bad company. He is in the second plate of the "Harlot's
Progress" depicted in the bed-room of a prostitute, and here
represented as perched on a harp, at a brothel in Drury Lane.

[78] It was further commemorated as the anniversary of Queen
Caroline's birthday.

[79] The chief of these, who appears in something that has once been
a tye-wig, was painted from a French boy that cleaned shoes at the
corner of Hog Lane.

[80] This post, and that close to the feet of the strutting Cambrian,
shows that these safeguards to the pedestrian were then thought
necessary: on new-paving the streets soon after his present Majesty's
accession, they were removed. During the short time of Lord Bute's
administration, an English gentleman who reprobated the idea of
making a Scotch pavement in the vicinity of St. James's, being asked
by a North Briton who was present how he or any other Englishman
could reasonably object to even Scotchmen mending their ways in the
neighbourhood of a palace? replied, "We do not object to your mending
our ways, but you have taken away all our _posts_."

[81] This is probably a true delineation of the church as it was
then. The print was published in 1735, and the year 1741 the church
was rebuilt. It seems likely that Marybone, from a neighbouring
village, may become the centre of the city: the alteration since the
Revolution, 1688, justifies this supposition. In that year the annual
amount of the taxes for the whole parish was four-and-twenty pounds;
in 1788 the annual amount was four-and-twenty thousand.

[82] From the antiquated bride, and young female adjusting the
folds of her gown, is taken a French print of a wrinkled harridan
of fashion at her toilet, attended by a blooming _Coiffeuse_. It
was engraved by L. Surugue, in 1745, from a picture in crayons
by Coypell, and is entitled, _La Folie pare la Decrepitude des
Ajustemens de la Jeunesse_. From the Frenchman, however, the
Devonshire Square dowager of our artist has received so high a
polish, that she might be mistaken for a queen-mother of France.

[83] "Trump," Mr. Hogarth's favourite dog, which he has introduced in
several of his prints.

[84] This probably gave the hint to a lady's reply, on being told
that thieves had the preceding night broken into the church, and
stolen the communion plate, and the Ten Commandments. "I can
suppose," added the informant, "that they may melt, and sell the
plate; but can you divine for what possible purpose they could steal
the Commandments?"--"To _break_ them, to be sure," replied she; "to
_break_ them."

[85] This is a correct copy of the inscription. Part of these lines,
in raised letters, now form a pannel in the wainscot at the end of
the right-hand gallery, as the church is entered from the street. No
heir of the Forset family appearing, the vault has been claimed and
used by his Grace the Duke of Portland, as lord of the manor. The
mural monument of the Taylors, composed of lead gilt over, is still
preserved: it is seen in Hogarth's print, just under the window. The
bishop of the diocese, when the new church was built, gave orders
that all the ancient tablets should be placed as nearly as possible
in their former situations.

It appears from an examination of the registers, etc., that Thos.
Sice and Thos. Horn were really churchwardens in the year 1725, when
the repairs were made. This print came out only ten years afterwards;
and the present state of the building seems to intimate that
Messieurs Sice and Horn had cheated the parish, when they officially
superintended the affairs of their church. The coat, shoes, and
stockings of the charity-boy convey a similar satire, though that is
directed to another quarter.

[86] The Reverend Mr. Gilpin.

[87] The thought is taken from a similar character to be found among
the figures of the principal personages in the court of Louis XIV.,
folio. This work has no engraver's name, but was probably published
about the year 1700.

[88] This is said to be old Manners (brother to John Duke of
Rutland), to whom the old Duke of Devonshire lost the great estate
of Leicester Abbey. Manners was the only person of his time who had
amassed a considerable fortune by the profession of a gamester.

[89] It has been thought intended for a portrait of William Duke
of Cumberland; but this cannot be, for the Duke was not more than
fifteen years of age when these prints were published.

[90] Such an accident as is here represented really happened at
White's Chocolate House, St. James's Street, on the 3d of May 1733.

[91] A masquerade is not often considered as the school of
morality: it frequently leads to vice, but seldom reclaims from
error. That it once had a salutary effect, the following story will
evince. Lord C----e, with many amiable virtues, and many brilliant
accomplishments, had a most unfortunate propensity to gaming; in one
night he lost upwards of thirty thousand pounds to the late General
Scott. Mortified at his ill-fortune, he paid the money, and wished
to keep the circumstance secret: it was, however, whispered in the
polite circles, and his lordship, to divert his chagrin, a few nights
after slipped on a domino, and went to a masquerade at Carlisle
House. He found all the company running after three Irish ladies of
the name of G----e, in the characters of _the three weird sisters_.
These ladies were so well acquainted with everything that was going
on in the great world, that they kept the room in a continued roar
by the brilliancy of their _bon-mots_, and the terseness of their
applications to some ladies of rank who were present. They knew Lord
C----e, and they knew of his loss, though he did not know them. He
walked up to them, and in a solemn tone of voice addressed them as
follows:--

      "Ye black and midnight hags,--what do ye do?
      Live ye, or are ye aught that man may question?
      Quickly unclasp to me the book of fate,
      And tell if good or ill my steps await!"

      _First Witch._ "All hail, C----e! all hail to thee!
      All hail! though poor thou soon shalt be!"

      _Hecate._ "C----e, all hail! thy evil star
      Sheds baleful influence--oh, beware!
      Beware that Thane! beware that _Scott_!
      Or poverty shall be thy lot!
      He'll drain thy youth as dry as hay--
      Hither, sisters, haste away!"

At the concluding word, whirling a watchman's rattle which she
held in her hand, the dome echoed with the sound; the terrified
peer shrunk into himself,--retired,--vowed never to lose more than
a hundred pounds at a sitting, abode by the determination, and
retrieved his fortune.

[92] There has been almost as much debate about Hogarth's orthography
as about Shakspeare's learning. One of these knotty points Dr.
Farmer's admirable pamphlet has put out of the reach of doubt, the
other is not of much consequence. I am afraid there are too many
damning proofs that Mr. William Hogarth was ignorant of spelling,
for his warmest admirers to contest the point any longer. His fame
is fixed upon a firmer basis. It was not necessary for him to study
the language of the schools; he searched into the grammar of nature,
and was himself the founder of an university, in which his pencil,
usurping the office of a pen, describes the passions as they affect
the countenance, and narrates the incidents that mark our little
life with the minuteness of a chronologist and the fidelity of an
historian. It has been truly said, that our divine poet saw nature
"without the spectacles of books." Our great artist could never have
delineated the workings of the human mind with that precise accuracy
which marks all his works, if he had studied the language of the
passions from the books of your philosophy.

[93] In his remarks on the seventh print, he speaks of this female
being introduced in the prison-scene as an episode. It cannot,
however, be called a digression; it naturally arises from the main
subject, and with the main subject it is materially connected.

  EPISODIUM: _Res extra argumentum assumpta_.--AINSWORTH.

[94] The Reverend Mr. Gilpin. See _Essay on Prints_, article Hogarth.

[95] It is designed from one of the two figures at the gate of the
hospital in Moorfields, which Mr. Pope, with more malignity than
truth, calls "Cibber's brainless brothers." The sculptor was Mr.
Cibber's father.

[96] This has been said to be an allusion to the "Leda" painted and
afterwards cut to pieces by Jacques Antoine Arlaud; but it appears,
by Mr. Walpole's _Anecdotes_, vol. iv. p. 81, that Arlaud did not
anatomize his "Leda" until the year 1738.

[97] Elkannah Settle was born in the year 1648. In 1680, he was
so violent a Whig, that the ceremony of Pope-burning, on the 17th
of November, was entrusted to his management. He wrote much in
defence of the party, and with the leaders was in high estimation.
Politicians and patriots were formed of much the same materials
then as they are now. Settle, being disappointed in some of his
views, became as violent a Tory as he had been a Whig, and actually
entered himself a trooper in King James's army at Hounslow Heath. The
Revolution destroyed all his prospects; and in the latter part of his
life he was so reduced as to attend a booth, which was kept by Mrs.
Minns and her daughter Mrs. Leigh, in Bartholomew Fair. From these
people he received a salary for writing drolls, which were generally
approved. In his old age he was obliged to appear in these wretched
exhibitions; and in the farce of _St. George for England_, performed
the part of a dragon, being enclosed in a case of green leather of
his own invention. To this circumstance Doctor Young refers in his
Epistle to Pope:

      "Poor Elkannah, all other changes past,
      For bread, in Smithfield-dragons hiss'd at last;
      Spit streams of fire, to make the butchers gape;
      And found his manners suited to his shape."


[98] The Honourable Edward Howard, brother to the Earl of Berkshire
and to Sir Henry Howard, was much more illustrious from his birth
than distinguished by his talents. Poetry was his passion rather than
his power. He mistook inclination for ability, and wrote a number of
very dull plays, in which want of genius and invention was atoned for
by that turgid, inflated language so acceptable to an audience whose
admiration is most excited by that which they least understand.

[99] The fairs at Chester, and some few other places, still keep up
the spirit of the original institution.

[100] They were at last carried to such a height of licentiousness,
as to demand the interposition of the Legislature; and no reformation
being wrought by lenient measures, Southwark Fair, and many others,
were suppressed.

[101] A booth was built in Smithfield the year this print was
published, for the use of T. Cibber, Bullock, and H. Hallam, at which
the tragedy of _Tamerlane_, with the _Fall of Bajazet_, intermixed
with the comedy of the _Miser_, was actually represented. The bill of
fare with which these gentlemen tempted their customers may properly
enough be called an _olio_; and the royal elephant sheet on which
the titles of their plays are printed, throws the comparatively
diminutive bills of a theatre-royal into the background.

In some of the provinces distant from the capital, their dramatic
exhibitions are still given out in the quaint style which marked
the productions of our ancestors. This sometimes excites the
laughter of a scholar, but it whets the curiosity of the rustic;
and whatever helps to fill a theatre or a barn, must be the best
of all possible methods. From the recent modes of announcing new
plays at the two Royal Theatres, there seems some reason to expect
that the admirers of this kind of writing will soon be gratified by
having it introduced in the London play-bills, or at least in the
London papers, where hints of "the abundant entertainment which is
to be expected sometimes make their appearance in the shape of 'a
correspondent's opinion.'" But leaving them to their admirers, let us
return to humbler scenes, and give one example out of the many which
the provinces annually afford.

A play-bill, printed some years ago at Ludlow, in Shropshire, was
nearly as large as their principal painted scene, and dignified with
letters that were truly CAPITAL, for each of those which composed the
name of a principal character were near a foot long. The play was for
the benefit of a very eminent female performer, the bill was said to
be written by herself, and thus was the evening's amusement announced:

  "For the benefit of Mrs. ----. By particular desire of B---- G----,
  Esquire, and his most amiable lady: This present evening will
  be performed a deep tragedy, containing the doleful history of
  King Lear and his three daughters; with the merry conceits of his
  Majesty's fool, and the valorous exploits of General Edmund, the
  Duke of Glo'ster's bastard.--All written by one William Shakspeare,
  a mighty great poet, who was born in Warwickshire, and held horses
  for gentlemen at the sign of the Red Bull, in Saint John's Street,
  near West Smithfield; where was just such another playhouse as that
  to which we humbly invite you, and hope for the good company of all
  friends round the Wrekin.

      "All you who would wish to cry, or to laugh,
      You had better spend your money here than in the alehouse, by half;
      And if you likes more about these things for to know,
      Come at six o'clock to the barn, in the High Street, Ludlow;
      Where, presented by live actors, the whole may be seen:
      So _vivant Rex_, God save the King, not forgetting the Queen."--E.


[102] I have heard a person, who was ambitious of being thought able
to detect the plagiarisms of painters, assert that the artist took
this hint from Jupiter and Io. The Southwark Fair nymph does not,
however, appear to be embracing a cloud.

[103] _The Siege of Troy_ was a celebrated droll, in high estimation
at fairs, printed in 1707. The author, Elkannah Settle,

      "For his broad shoulders fam'd, and length of ears."


[104] Had Hogarth read _The Merchant of Venice_? or did the poet and
the painter see nature with the same eyes? The woman behind the post
proves that they thought alike:

      "Some men there are love not a gaping pig,
      Some that are mad if they behold a cat;
      And others 'if the bagpipe sing i' the nose.' etc."


[105] In Mr. Horace Walpole's _Anecdotes of Painting in the Reign
of George II._, he prefaces the account of William Hogarth in the
following manner: "Having despatched the herd of our painters in
oil, I reserved to a class by himself that great and original
genius," etc. I thought the term very happily applied, and pointedly
appropriate to most of the characters it enumerates; but I remember
a second-rate artist being marvellously offended at the freedom of
the appellation; and observing that the names of Canaletti, George
Lambert, Francis Cotes, Frank Hayman, and Samuel Scott, deserved more
respect than to be classed in a herd.

[106] Mr. Highmore was originally a man of considerable fortune,
but White's gaming-house, and the Drury Lane patent, exhausted his
finances. Having exhibited himself as an unsuccessful actor and an
unfortunate manager, he in 1743 completed the climax by publishing
a poem entitled _Dettingen_, which proves him a very indifferent
writer. In 1744, he a second time appeared in the character of
Lothario, for the benefit of Mr. Horton, but seems to have had no
requisites for the stage. He was, however, a man of strict integrity
and high honour, and frequently suffered heavy losses rather than
violate any engagement, though it might be only verbal, which he
had once made. Such a person was very unfit for a coadjutor with
men who were so busied in qualifying themselves for personating the
characters of others, that they had no leisure for any attention to
their own.

[107] The general observation at the time was, "What business had a
gentleman to make the purchase?"

[108] It seems that Harper was mentally and corporeally qualified
for the character; for we are told that Mr. Highmore fixed upon
Harper as the person to take up for a vagabond, because he was
naturally a very great coward. One of the prints of the day, dated
the 12th of November 1734, speaking of this transaction, concludes
with the following remark: "Sir Thomas Clarges and other justices
have committed Mr. Harper to Bridewell, in order to his being put to
hard labour,--an employment which, by his enormous bulk, he seems as
little fit for as he is for a vagrant; being a man so marvellously
corpulent, that it is not possible for him either to labour or to
wander a great deal." He was, however, a man of very fair character,
and soon delivered from his confinement by an order from the Court of
King's Bench.

[109] Among the dead stock of a lately deceased antiquarian, there
was found, carefully wrapped up in paper that had once been white,
four moderate-sized panes of glass, cut lozenge fashion. On the
paper, in a kind of law hand, was written what follows:--

"Theese curious peeces of antiquitie I did purchase from a glazyer
at Windsor, who informed me that he had them from his father, who
was in the same business, and lived for to be very old; and told
unto him, that while he was yet but a little scrubbed boy, being
apprenticed, his master did send him to put some newe paines of
glasse in a cazement at the Olde Kinges Armes in that towne; the old
glasse being rendered dimme and obscured, by wicked fellowes having
at sundrie times scribbled naughty and unseemly words and verses
thereon. Upon the enclosed paines were the fairest inscriptions; he
therefore had kept them, and recommended unto his sonne to doe the
like. For a small peece of gold they became mine, and I do beleeve
were truelie written by the handes of those verie menne whose names
are put under each verse, and that Falstaff his lines are meaned to
convey a sort of sporting resentmente against his old companion,
once Prince Henrie, surnamed of Monmouth, but nowe become kinge, for
having banyshed him from his royal presence; though perhappes it may
onlie meane to allude unto the signe of the taverne where they did
holde their merrie meetinges."

The inscriptions were as follow:--

"Kingis Armes taverne atte Winsor, firste daie of Maye, A.D.
1414. Presente,--I John Falstaff, knight,--Mistris Dorothy,--Ned
Poins,--and myne Ancient.

"ONNE MISTRIS DOROTHY.

      "Doll in the Kingis Armes hath ofte times slept,
        And Doll if you will give her halfe a crowne,
      If from the Kingis Armes she should be kept,--
        Will sleepe in yours, or anie armes in towne.--FALSTAFF.

"On the feathers which Mistriss Dorothy weareth in her hatte:

      "Under Doll's feathers, let 'Ich Dien' bee;
        'I serve,' we translate this.--
      I own righte welle shee serveth mee,
        And would serve you I wisse.--E. POINS.

"On Dol Tearsheete her Garters; the mottoe 'Honi soit qui mal y
pense' being worked with worsteades thereon:

      "Avaunt, ye peasant slaves! and see from whence
      The mottoe 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.'
      Dare of Dol's garters but to whisper eville,
      With rapier's biting blade I'll drive ye to the deville!--PISTOL."

      --E.

These verses are copied _verbatim et literatim_ from the brittle
memorial on which they were found; but should any obstinate sceptic
be hardy enough to doubt their antiquity, and, notwithstanding the
internal evidence which beams through every line, suppose them the
productions of modern days, let him read the numerous volumes of
those gentlemen who debated so learnedly and so long about the workis
of Maister Rowlie, the Bristowe poet, and the giftis of Maister
Cannynge, the Bristowe patron; and if, after he has waded through
these clear streams of ancient lore, a doubt remains in his mind--he
must be an infidel.

[110] The licentiousness of the present age is a favourite topic
with some of our popular writers; yet the drama is considered as the
mirror of public manners; and the drama is rather more correct, and
less indelicate, than it was in the year 1327, when, in a play of
the _Olde and Newe Testament_, performed at Chester, the actors who
played Adam and Eve, trying to represent these two characters to the
life, came upon the stage quite naked! What modern manager could have
dressed, or rather undressed, his performers with a stricter regard
to propriety?

[111] That wild beasts were exhibited, is, however, certain from the
following anecdote, which, not being noted by any of Dr. Johnson's
biographers, may as well have a place here:--

When the Doctor first became acquainted with David Mallet, they once
went with some other gentlemen to laugh away an hour at Southwark
Fair. At one of the booths where wild beasts were exhibited to the
wondering crowd, was a very large bear, which the showman assured
them was "cotched in the undiscovered desarts of the remotest
Russia." The bear was muzzled, and might therefore be approached with
safety, but to all the company except Johnson was very surly and
ill-tempered; of the philosopher he appeared extremely fond, rubbed
against him, and displayed every mark of awkward partiality and
subdued kindness. "How is it," said one of the company, "that this
savage animal is so attached to Mr. Johnson?" "From a very natural
cause," replied Mallet; "the bear is a Russian philosopher, and he
knows that Linnæus would have placed him in the same class with the
English moralist. They are _two_ barbarous animals of _one_ species."

The Doctor disliked Mallet for his tendency to infidelity, and this
sarcasm turned that dislike into positive hatred. He never spoke to
him afterwards, but has gibbeted him in his octavo _Dictionary_ under
the article _alias_.

[112] I cannot learn in what year the duration of this fair was
shortened; but I should suppose from the following circumstance, very
soon afterwards. This print was published in 1733, and on the 24th
of June 1735 the Court of Aldermen came to a resolution touching
Bartholomew Fair, "that the same shall not exceed Bartholomew eve,
Bartholomew day, and the day after; and that during that time nothing
but stalls and booths shall be erected for the sale of goods, wares,
and merchandizes, and no acting be permitted."

[113] A Mr. Banckes, who a few years afterwards published some rhymes
on this print, asserts, "that the performance at the booth, on the
sign of which is written, _The Fall of Bajazet_, is the droll of Fair
Rosamond." From the dresses, etc., I should imagine this ingenious
gentleman is wrong. He also observes, "that young Louis XV., King of
France, his queen, children, prime minister, etc., were this year
exhibited in Smithfield and the Borough at very reasonable prices, to
spectators of all degrees." Our artist, however, had forgot himself
in regard to the matter of which these great personages were made,
the whole town having been informed by their master of the ceremonies
that they were of a composition far exceeding wax. The same writer
goes on to inform us:

      "There Yeates and Pinchbeck change the scene
      To slight of hand, and clock machine;
      First numerous eggs are laid, and then,
      The pregnant bag brings forth a hen," etc.

From the above lines, I should suppose that the late Mr. Pinchbeck,
with his wonderful and surprising piece of mechanism the Panopticon,
was at this fair; though he frequently spoke of one of his brothers,
"who," he said, "was a showman, and who once gave a very large sum
for an elephant, and took a room at Southwark Fair, with an intention
of exhibiting it; but the passage to this room," added he, "was so
narrow, that though my poor brother 'got the beast into it, a'never
could get un out on't; a' stuck in the middle on't and died!' So,
sir, you sees my poor brother lost all his money. Ah! he was a most
unfortunate dog in everything he took in hand! and so was I, God
knows." _Cætera desunt._

[114] The late Lord Sandwich, not very eminent for his reverence of
the clerical habit, being once in a company where there were a number
of clergymen, offered, in a whisper, to lay a considerable wager with
the gentleman who sat next him, that among the ten parsons there was
not one Prayer-book. The wager was accepted, and a mock dispute gave
him occasion to ask for a Prayer-book to decide it. They had not
one.--He soon after privately offered to lay another wager with the
same gentleman, that among the ten parsons there was half a score
corkscrews. This also was accepted; and the butler being previously
instructed, coming into the room with a bottle of claret and a broken
corkscrew, requested any gentleman to lend him one. Every priest who
was present had a corkscrew in his pocket!

[115] Of Henley's absurdities we have heard much; but they had their
source in an adoption of that manner which he knew would be agreeable
to his auditors, rather than in ignorance. The following circumstance
proves he was a man of some humour:--

"I never," says a person who knew little about the doctor, "saw
Orator Henley but once, and that was at the Grecian Coffeehouse,
where a gentleman he was acquainted with coming in, and seating
himself in the same box, the following dialogue passed between them:--

_Henley._ "Pray what is become of our old friend Dick Smith? I have
not seen him for several years."

_Gentleman._ "I really don't know. The last time I heard of him he
was at Ceylon, or some of our settlements in the West Indies."

_Henley_ (_with some surprise_). "At Ceylon, or some of our
settlements in the West Indies! My good sir, in _one_ sentence there
are _two_ mistakes. Ceylon is not one of _our_ settlements, it
belongs to the Dutch; and it is situated, not in the West, but in the
East Indies."

_Gentleman_ (_with some heat_). "That I deny!"

_Henley._ "More shame for you! I will engage to bring a boy of eight
years of age who will confute you."

_Gentleman_ (_in a cooler tone of voice_). "Well,--be it where it
will, I thank God I know very little about these sort of things."

_Henley._ "What, you thank God for your ignorance, do you?"

_Gentleman_ (_in a violent rage_). "I do, sir. What then?"

_Henley._ "Sir, you have a great deal to be thankful for."

[116] These lines are from Banckes' _Poems_, p. 87, in which a
contracted copy of the print is placed as the headpiece of an epistle
to the painter. This good gentleman, with true poetic vanity,
pathetically exclaims,

      "Alas! that pictures should decay;
      That words alone can wit convey:
      But words remain--Oh, may this verse
      Remain, etc. etc."

Little did this rival of Stephen Duck imagine that the _words_ "which
alone can wit convey," would not have preserved his two volumes from
the trunkmaker, to whom every verse had been long since consigned,
had not this little print, and another copy from the same artist,
sometimes induced a collector to purchase the volumes.

The concluding lines of his poem are not, however, so contemptible:

      "In vain we ransack Rome and Greece
      To match this Conversation piece;
      In vain our follies would advance
      The names of Italy and France;
      Labour and art elsewere we see,
      But native humour strong in thee;
      In thee--but parallels are vain,
      A great original remain.
      Go on to lash our reigning crimes,
      And live the censor of the times."


[117] I once heard a freemason observe, that this droning disciple
of Morpheus, and the heavy politician on the opposite side, were the
Jachin and Boaz of the lodge.

[118] On the top of a shop-bill, which contains a list of Doctor
----, I forget his name's, wonderful and surprising cures, performed
by elixir of----, I don't know what, this descendant of Sangrado has
inserted a wooden print, which displays a reduced copy of his sign.
It exhibits a half-length of much such a person as our antiquated
beau, with his hand in precisely the same situation. This our quack
very emphatically denominates the _sign_ of the _headache_.

[119] Those gentlemen who wish to enjoy

      "The feast of reason and the flow of soul,"

would find some use in adopting the old threadbare adage, "Not
more than the Muses, nor fewer than the Graces." Poor Mortimer the
painter, whose convivial talents were hardly to be paralleled, had
such a dislike to large companies, that he used to say, "If he
invited the twelve apostles to supper, he would certainly take two
evenings to receive them, six being a sufficient number, be the
society ever so good."

[120] The preacher is said to be intended for a portrait of a Doctor
Desaguliers.

[121] Our clerk carries every appearance of being the schoolmaster
of the hamlet. He has much of that surly, tyrannic dignity which
frequently accompanies the character. One of these gentlemen, in
a village distant from the capital, having a disagreement with
a neighbouring yeoman, the farmer, in his wrath, called him an
overbearing Turk, and an insignificant beast. Our haughty Holofernes
was irritated beyond description; his rage choked his utterance: he
stalked home, and wrote a poetical epistle to the rustic, beginning
with the lines which follow:--

      "God not a beast did make, but me a man;
      And not a Turk, but a true Christian;
      And by His grace I am a schoolmaster;
      None of the meaner kind, I dare aver."


[122] These moping birds, being the worshippers of darkness
consecrated to dulness, closing their eyes against the light, and
holding their silent, solitary reign in old buildings which are
seldom trodden by human feet, are with great propriety placed in this
church.

The cross on an escutcheon in one of the windows is there placed
to the memory of the learned and Reverend Ebenezer Muzz; who, his
epitaph declareth, after "painfullie labouring in this vineyard for
one and fortie years, now _sleepeth_ with his fathers."

[123] An hour-glass is still placed on some of the pulpits in the
provinces. Daniel Burgess, of whimsical memory, never preached
without one, and he frequently _saw it out_ three times during one
sermon. In a discourse which he once delivered at the conventicle in
Russel Court, against drunkenness, some of his hearers began to yawn
at the end of the second glass. But Daniel was not to be silenced by
a yawn; he turned his timekeeper, and altering the tone of his voice,
desired they would be patient a while longer, for he had much more to
say upon the sin of drunkenness: "therefore," added he, "my friends
and brethren, we will have another glass,--and then!"

[124] Doctor Arbuthnot, Mr. Pope, and the Dean, have united their
talents to expose the anti-climax, and selected innumerable conceits
from the ponderous works of Sir Richard Blackmore and others. They
have unkindly neglected their friend Gay; and yet Blackmore's mowing
the beard is not much worse than Gay's shaving the grass:

      "When the fresh spring in all her state is crown'd,
      And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground,
      The lab'rer with the bending scythe is seen
      Shaving the surface of the waving green;
      Of all her native pride disrobes the land,
      And meads lays waste before his sweeping hand."

      --Gay's _Pastorals_, p. 5, l. 39, etc.


[125] When I was very young, I once paid a morning visit to a poet.
Upon his table was Byshe's _Art of Poetry_. I naturally observed,
"Your manager of a puppet-show is more prudent than you are; he keeps
his wires out of sight." So tremblingly alive are these valets to the
Muses, that this good-natured hint, which had its source in a wish to
serve him, was never forgiven.

[126] This excellent paper is now no more; but our modern poets
and poetesses have a still more extended channel in which to pour
out their warm effusions. Reams of good white paper are daily
metamorphosed, and become magazines, newspapers, and, though last
mentioned, not less in regard, auctioneer's catalogues. That the last
named is as poetical as are the two former, many examples might be
adduced to prove. One shall suffice, and that one is so bespangled
with beauteous metaphors, that, though neither in rhyme nor blank
verse, yet, from its brilliancy of colouring and splendour of
diction, it must be classed amongst the most sublime compositions of
our most sublime bards. Thus is a sale announced:--"Particulars and
conditions of sale of that elegant freehold villa called Luxborough,
which will be sold on the 26th of June 1765, together with the
several farms that encompass the premises, containing in the whole
near six hundred acres of rich arable meadow, pasture, and woodland,
lying and being in an extensive vale, whose surrounding acclivities
are nobly clothed, and, rising in magnifique form, exhibit luxuriant
prospects of unequalled richness and beauty.

"The pleasure-ground is comprised in a space of eleven acres,
encompassed with ha-ha! and grub walls. The elegant disposition
of the ground is beautifully improved with vistas, groves, and
plantations, through which walks wind in extensive circuit.
Store-ponds and elevated basons occupy the areas, regale those
fragrant coverts, and afford a constant and inexhaustible supply of
water for the house, by means of lead pipes, aqueducts, etc.

"Nature, propitious, hath luxuriantly featured the circumadjacent
grounds, and art hath been judiciously introduced to give richness
and effect. The lawn swells with gentle rise and easy slopes; clumps
of trees are placed in pleasing irregularity; a serpentine stream
flows through the vale, heightening the verdure of the divided
pasture; and the villages of Chigwell, Woodford, and Woodford Bridge,
dawn through that mass of prolific richness which fills the wide
expanse."

[127] Had the artist given this speaking countenance to the girl who
is exhibited in the first print of the "Rake's Progress," how much
more should we have been interested in her situation?

[128] When this was first published, the following quotation from
Pope's _Dunciad_ was inscribed under the print:--

      "Studious he sate, with all his books around,
      Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound:
      Plung'd for his sense, but found no bottom there;
      Then wrote and flounder'd on in mere despair."

All his books, amounting to only four, was, I suppose, the artist's
reason for erasing the lines.

A reduced copy, with some variations, is placed as the headpiece
of an Epistle to Alexander Pope, Esq., by Mr. Banckes. One of the
variations is, a cobweb over the grate. If this good gentleman had
consulted his own headpiece, he would have recollected that, as even
a poet must sometimes eat, and the poor bard had no other room, or
grate, it was natural to think he must sometimes have a fire to dress
his scanty meal. In almost every other respect he is indeed a much
more unaccommodated man than was Stephen Duck when he was a thresher.
Duck, having made some rhymes, which for a thresher were deemed
extraordinary, was taken out of his barn, furnished with a stock in
trade, and set up as a poet. After that time he never wrote a stanza;
his Muse forsook him; he was haunted by the foul fiend, and hanged or
drowned himself, because Queen Caroline, who had made him a parson,
could not make him a bishop.

In one of the journals of the day, dated June 30, 1736, I find
written as follows:--"A handsome entertainment was this day given at
Charlton, in Wiltshire, to the threshers of that village, by the Lord
Viscount Palmerston, who has given money to purchase a piece of land,
the produce of which is to be laid out in an annual entertainment,
on the 30th of June, for ever, in commemoration of Stephen Duck, who
was a thresher at that place." Happy man! patronized by the Queen's
Majesty, and

      "So lov'd, so honour'd, in the House of Lords!"


[129] This unfortunate creature, in the memory of many persons now
living, used to parade the streets of the metropolis with a hautboy,
which afforded him a precarious subsistence.

[130] He was brother to Festin who led the band at Ranelagh, and has
been dead about thirty years.

[131] "What signifies," says some one to Dr. Johnson, "giving
half-pence to common beggars? they only lay them out in gin or
tobacco." "And why," replied the Doctor, "should they be denied such
sweeteners of their existence? It is surely very savage to shut out
from them every possible avenue to those pleasures reckoned too
coarse for our own acceptance. Life is a pill which none of us can
swallow without gilding; yet for the poor we delight in stripping it
still more bare, and are not ashamed to show even visible marks of
displeasure, if ever the bitter taste is taken from their mouths."

[132] This is said to be a striking resemblance of that very great
man. For many years he attended Covent Garden market every morning.

[133] It has been said that this incomparable figure was designed
as the representative of either a particular friend or a relation.
Individual satire may be very gratifying to the public, but is
frequently fatal to the satirst. Churchill, by the lines,

                      "Fam'd Vine Street,
      Where Heaven, the kindest wish of man to grant,
      Gave me an old house, and an older aunt,"

lost a considerable legacy; and it is related that Hogarth, by the
introduction of this withered votary of Diana into this print,
induced her to alter a will which had been made considerably in his
favour: she was at first well enough satisfied with her resemblance,
but some designing people taught her to be angry.

[134] Of this there is an enlarged copy, which some of our collectors
have ingeniously enough christened, _The Half-Starved Boy_. It bears
the date of 1730, and is inscribed "W. H. pinx. F. Sykes sc." Sykes
was the pupil of either Sir James Thornhill or Hogarth, and the 0
might be intended for an 8 or a 9; but the aquafortis failing, it
appears to have an earlier date than the print from which it was
copied. If the date is right, Sykes undoubtedly copied it from a
sketch of his master's, which might then be unappropriated. In any
case, it is too ridiculous to imagine for a moment that Hogarth was
a plagiary; for supposing, what is not very probable, that his pupil
was capable of delineating the figure, he would scarcely have made
the sketch without some concomitant circumstances to explain its
meaning.

[135] I speak of the large print; in the small copy, which is
inserted in this work, they are properly placed.

[136] From what combination is this now made the sign for a colour
shop?

[137] This boy is copied from a figure in a picture of _The Rape of
the Sabines_, by N. Poussin, now in the collection of Sir R. Hoare,
at Stourhead.

[138] At that period there was a windmill at the bottom of Rathbone
Place.

[139] Mr. Nichols, in his _Anecdotes_.

[140] I have seen more than one modern impression with the hands
and face tinged with red and blue. Those only are genuine which are
printed in colours.

[141] To the memory of this great and public-spirited citizen I never
saw any other memorial. Such a benefactor to the city ought to have
had a statue of gold placed in the centre of the Royal Exchange.

He was a native of Denbigh, in North Wales, and a citizen and
goldsmith of London. Though there were three Acts of Parliament
empowering the freemen of London to cut through lands, and bring a
river from any part of Middlesex or Hertfordshire, the project had
always been considered as impracticable, till Sir Hugh Middleton
undertook it. He made choice of two springs, one in the parish of
Amwell, in Hertfordshire, the other near Ware, each of them about
twenty miles from town. Having united their streams with immense
labour and expense, he conveyed them to London. This most arduous
and useful work was begun on the 20th of February 1608, and brought
into the reservoir, at Islington, on Michaelmas day, 1613. Like many
other projectors, he ruined his private fortune by his public spirit.
King James I., however, created him a baronet; and his descendants,
in lieu of a very considerable estate, had the honour of being called
Sirs. For the benefit of the poor members of the Goldsmiths' Company,
he left a share in his New River water; and his portrait is still
preserved in their hall.

The seventy-two shares into which this great liquid property was
divided, originally sold for one hundred pounds each, and for thirty
years afforded scarce any advantage to the proprietors. In the
year 1780, shares were sold at nine and ten thousand pounds each;
and their price is increasing in proportion to the increase of the
dividends, by which their value is regulated.

[142] On the resignation of Mr. Horace Walpole, in February 1738, De
Veil was appointed inspector-general of the imports and exports, and
was so severe against the retailers of spirituous liquors, that one
Allen headed a gang of rioters for the purpose of pulling down his
house, and bringing to a summary punishment two informers who were
there concealed. Allen was tried for this offence and acquitted upon
the jury's verdict declaring him lunatic.

[143] On this spot once stood the cross erected by Edward I. as a
memorial of affection for his beloved Queen Eleanor, whose remains
were here rested on their way to the place of sepulture. It was
formed from a design by Cavalini, and destroyed by the religious
fury of the Reformers. In its place, in the year 1678, was erected
the animated equestrian statue which now remains. It was cast in
brass, in the year 1633, by Le Sœur; I think by order of that
munificent encourager of the arts, Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel.
The Parliament ordered it to be sold, and broken to pieces; but
John River, the brazier who purchased it, having more taste than
his employers, seeing, with the prophetic eye of good sense, that
the powers which were would not remain rulers very long, dug a hole
in his garden, in Holborn, and buried it unmutilated. To prove
his obedience to their order, he produced to his masters several
pieces of brass, which he told them were parts of the statue. M. de
Archenholtz adds further, that the brazier, with the true spirit
of trade, cast a great number of handles for knives and forks, and
offered them for sale, as composed of the brass which had formed
the statue. They were eagerly sought for, and purchased,--by the
loyalists from affection to their murdered monarch, by the other
party as trophies of the triumph of liberty over tyranny.

[144] Doctor Arne, in one instance, seemed to think that they should
still continue so. Having composed a very dull opera, and the town
disapproving and consigning it to a merited oblivion, the Doctor
asked Foote what was his opinion of it; "for," added he, "I really
think there is a great deal of good in it." "There is, my dear
fellow," replied the wit; "there is a great deal too much good in it;
but, setting aside its goodness and piety, there never was anything
more justly damned since damning came into fashion."

[145] There may be those who will object to a banner flouting the
sky in a barn; let such consider that the roof is not above half
thatched, and their objections will vanish. These breaches in the
roof will throw a new light upon the line.

[146] Let not this humble situation be considered with contempt. In
the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the loyal inhabitants of Shrewsbury,
expecting that her Majesty would pass through their town in one of
her northern perambulations, prepared to entertain her with a play,
which was to have been performed in a dry marl pit in the quarry; but
the Queen's highness did not come.

[147] This gentlewoman has generally been considered as intended
for the ghost: from her employment, I rather think she is the
representative of tragedy:

      "Death in her hand, and murder in her eye."

The sage Melpomene herself could not go through the business with
more philosophic indifference.

[148] By the halter near them, it may be conjectured that these
balls were intended to represent bullets, and designed to hint that
some one of this noble company might on a leisure evening, in humble
imitation of the heroic Captain Machcath, endeavour to turn his lead
to gold; and, like that very great man, be in consequent danger of
making an exit with a rope round his neck.

[149] We are told by John Milton, that cannon were invented by the
devil. We are told by Alexander Pope, that stage thunder was invented
by that great critic John Dennis; and so jealous was Dennis of his
bolt being wielded by an improper hand, that being once in the pit at
Drury Lane Theatre, when the company were performing _Macbeth_, he,
on hearing the bowls rattling over his head, started from his seat,
grasped his oaken stick, and exclaimed, with an emphasis that drowned
the voices of the players, "Eternal curses light on these scoundrels!
they have stolen my thunder, and don't know how to roll it!"

[150] Our royal theatres have sometimes neglected and violated the
costume. We have seen the head of Cato covered with a periwig that
emulated Sir Cloudesley Shovel's; a Prince of Denmark decorated with
the order of St. George; Othello habited as a captain of the foot
guards; and Kent, the tough old Kent, as a Chelsea pensioner.

[151] In the second act of _Oedipus_ is the following stage
direction:--"The cloud draws that veiled the heads of the figures in
the sky, and shows them crowned with the names of Oedipus and Jocasta
written above, in great characters of gold."

[152] That these representatives of royalty sometimes meet with such
accidents, appears by the following letter from a late lecturer
upon heads, at a time when he belonged to a company of comedians at
Yarmouth:--

  "YARMOUTH GAOL, _27th May 1761_.

  "SIR,--When I parted from you at Lincoln, I thought long before
  now to have met with some oddities worth acquainting you with. It
  is grown a fashion of late to write lives: I now, and for a long
  time, have had leisure sufficient to undertake mine, but want
  materials for the latter part of it; for my existence now cannot
  properly be called living, but what the painters term _still
  life_, having ever since March 13th been confined in this town
  gaol for a London debt. As the hunted deer is always shunned by
  the happier herd, so am I deserted by the company, my share taken
  off, and no support left me except what my wife can spare out of
  hers:

      'Deserted, in my utmost need,
      By those my former bounties fed.'

  "With an economy which till now I was ever a stranger to, I have
  made a shift hitherto to victual my little garrison; but then it
  has been by the assistance of some good friends; and, alas! my
  clothes furnish me this week with my last resort; the next, I
  must atone for my errors upon bread and water.

  "Themistocles had many towns to furnish his tables, and a whole
  city had the charge of his meals. In some respects I am like him,
  for I am fed by the labours of a multitude. A wig has kept me two
  days; the trimmings of a waistcoat as long; a ruffled shirt has
  paid my washer-woman; a pair of velvet breeches discharged my
  lodgings; my coat I swallow by degrees, the sleeves I breakfasted
  upon for three days, the body, skirts, etc. served me as long;
  and two pair of pumps enabled me to smoke several pipes. You
  would be surprised to think how my appetite, barometer-like,
  rises in proportion as my necessities make their terrible
  advances. I here could say something droll about a good stomach,
  but it is ill jesting with edged tools, and I am sure that is the
  sharpest thing about me.

  "You may, perhaps, think I am lost to all sense of my condition,
  that while I am thus wretched I should offer at ridicule; but,
  Sir, people constitutioned like me, with a disproportionable
  levity of spirits, are always most merry when most miserable, and
  quicken like the eyes of the consumptive, which are brightest the
  nearer the patient approaches his dissolution. But to show you
  that I am not lost to all reflection, I here think myself poor
  enough to want a favour, and humble enough to ask it. Then, Sir,
  I could draw an encomium on your good sense, humanity, etc. etc.;
  but I will not pay so bad a compliment to your understanding
  as to endeavour by a parade of phrases to win it over to my
  interest. If at the concert you could make a gathering for me, it
  would be a means of obtaining my liberty.

  "You well know, Sir, the first people of rank abroad perform the
  most friendly offices for the sick; be not therefore offended at
  the request of the unfortunate.

  "GEORGE ALEXANDER STEVENS."


[153] On the spirited style in which the late Miss Catley, of
melodious memory, performed this character, the following lines were
written; but I do not recollect having seen them printed:--

      "Hail, vulgar goddess of the foul-mouth'd race!
        (If modest bard may hail without offence),
      On whose majestic, blush-disdaining face,
        The steady hand of Fate wrote--IMPUDENCE!
      Hail to thy dauntless front, and aspect bold!
      Thrice hail! magnificent, immortal scold!

      "The goddess, from the upper gallery's height,
        With heedful look the jealous fishwife eyes;
      Though early train'd to urge the mouthing fight,
        She hears thy bellowing powers with new surprise;
      Returns instructed to the realms that bore her,
      Adopts thy tones, and carries all before her.

      "From thee the roaring Bacchanalian crew,
        In many a tavern round the Garden known,
      Learn richer blackguard than they ever knew:
        They catch thy look,--they copy every tone;
      They ape the brazen honours of thy face,
      And push the jorum with a double grace.

      "Thee from his box the macaroni eyes;
        With levell'd tube he takes his distant stand,
      Trembling beholds the horrid storm arise,
        And feels for reinhold when you raise your hand;
      At distance he enjoys the boisterous scene,
      And thanks his God the pit is plac'd between.

      "So, 'midst the starry honours of the night,
        The sage explores a comet's fiery course;
      Fearful he views its wild eccentric flight,
        And shudders at its overwhelming force:
      At distance safe he marks the glaring ray,
      Thankful his world is not within its way.

      "Proceed then, Catley, in thy great career,
        And nightly let our maidens hear and see,
      The sweetest voice disgust the listening ear,
        The sweetest form assume deformity:
      Thus shalt thou arm them with their best defence,
      And teach them modesty by impudence."


[154] The late Lord Orrery was a singularly formal character. Sir
Anthony Branville, in _The Discovery_, was intended for his portrait,
and exhibits a strong likeness. It was sometimes the wish of Mr.
Garrick to play upon the suavity of this old nobleman, and induce him
to contradict himself. This power he exerted very successfully on the
following occasion:--Lord Orrery wrote a letter from Ireland to Mr.
Garrick, requesting that Mossop might be engaged. The request of a
man of rank was, to the manager of Drury Lane, a command, and Mossop
was engaged. When, some months afterwards, the peer came to England,
he took an early opportunity of breakfasting with Mr. Garrick: the
moment he entered the room, he began his favourite subject.

_Orrery._ "David, I congratulate you: I inquire not about the success
of your theatre; with yourself and Mossop, it must be triumphant. The
Percy and the Douglas both in arms, have a right to be confident.
Separate, you were two bright luminaries; united, you are a
constellation--the _Gemini_ of the theatric hemisphere. Excepting
yourself, my dear David, no man that ever trod on tragic ground has
so forcibly exhibited the various passions that agitate, and I may
say agonize, the human mind. He makes that broad stroke at the heart
which, being aimed by the hand of nature, reaches the prince or the
peasant, the peer or the plebeian. He is not the mere player of
fashion; for the player of fashion, David, may be compared to a man
tossed in a blanket: the very instant his supporters quit their hold
of the coverlet, down drops the hero of the day. However, as general
assertions do not carry conviction, I will arrange my opinions under
different heads, not doubting your assent to my declarations, which
shall be founded on facts, and built upon experience. First of the
first,--his voice; his voice is the _vox argentea_ of the ancients,
the silver tone, of which so much has been written, but which never
struck upon a modern ear till Mossop spoke,--'then mute attention
reigned.'"

_Garrick._ "Why, my Lord, as to his voice, I must acknowledge
that it is loud enough; the severest critic cannot accuse him of
whispering his part; for, egad, it was so sonorous, that the people
had no occasion to come into the theatre: they used to go to the
pastrycook's shop in Russel Court, and eat their custards, and hear
him as well as if they had been in the orchestra: '_he made the
welkin echo to the sound_.' No one could doubt the goodness of his
lungs, or accuse him of sparing them; but as to--"

_Orrery._ "What! you have found out that he roars! you have
discovered that he bellows!--Upon my soul, David, you are right;
he bellows like a bull. We used to call him 'Bull Mossop'--'Mossop
the Bull;'--we had no better name for him in the country. But then,
David, his eye is an eye of fire; and when he looks, he looks
unutterable things: it is scarce necessary that he should speak, for
his eye conveys everything that he means, and excepting your own,
David, is the brightest, most expressive, most speaking eye, that
ever beamed in a--"

_Garrick._ "Why, my Lord, with the utmost submission to your
Lordship, from whose accurate taste and comprehensive judgment I
tremble to differ,--does not your Lordship think there is a--a--a
dull kind of heaviness,--a blanket, a--"

_Orrery._ "What! you have discovered that he is blind?--Egad, David,
whatever his eye may be, nothing can escape yours. He is as blind
as a beetle. There is an opacity, a stare without sight, a sort of
filminess, exactly as you describe. But, notwithstanding I allow that
he bellows like a bull, and is blind as a beetle, his memory has such
peculiar tenacity, that whatever he once receives adheres to it like
glue! he does not forget a syllable of his part."

_Garrick._ "Upon my honour, my Lord, if his memory was what you
describe in Ireland, he must have forgot to bring it with him to
London; for here, the prompter is obliged to repeat every sentence,
and a whole sentence he cannot retain: there is absolutely a
necessity for splitting it into parts."

_Orrery._ "What! you have found that his head runs out. Upon my soul,
it never would hold anything: Lady Orrery used to call him 'Cullender
Mossop'--Mossop the Cullender:' the fellow could not remember a
common distich. But, notwithstanding this, his carriage is so easy,
his air so gentleman-like, his deportment has so much fashion, that
you perceive at a glance he has kept the best company; and no one who
sees him conceives him a player. He looks like one of our house: he
has the port of nobility."

_Garrick._ "As to his port, my Lord, I grant you that the man is
tall, and upright enough; but with submission, the utmost submission
to your Lordship's better judgment, don't you think there is an
awkwardness, a rigid, vulgar, unbending sort of a--a--. We had
fencing masters, dancing masters, and drill sergeants, but all would
not do; he looked more like a tailor than a gentleman."

_Orrery._ "What! you think that he is stiff? By the Lord, David, you
are right,--nothing escapes you: he is stiff--stiff as a poker: we
used to call him 'Poker Mossop;'--we had no better name for him in
the country. But however his body might want (as I must acknowledge
it did) the graceful, easy bend of the Antinous, his mind was formed
of the most yielding and flexible materials: any advice which you
gave him, he would take; from you, I am persuaded, a hint was
sufficient."

_Garrick._ "Why, in this, my Lord, I must be bold enough to differ
from you in the most pointed and positive terms; for of all the
obstinate, headstrong, and unmanageable animals I ever dealt with,
he is the most stubborn, the most untractable, the most wrongheaded.
I never knew one instance where he followed my instructions in any
the smallest degree. If I recommend him to dress a character plain,
he comes upon the stage like a gingerbread king; if I advise him
to be splendid in his apparel, he endeavours to get a Quaker's
habit from the keeper of our wardrobe; and in everything, he--more
than I thought belonged to human nature--had that impenetrable,
that--that--that--"

_Orrery._ "So!--you think him obstinate? Upon my soul he is--as
obstinate as a pig; he has more of that animal's pertinacity than any
man I ever knew in my life. But yet, David, with all these faults, he
is--I have not time to enter into particulars.--Be what he will, you
have engaged him? I sincerely wish you may agree together, and am,
my dear fellow, your most obedient. Say no more.--Farewell.--To Mrs.
Garrick present my compliments."

[155] In an ode to the memory of Le-Stue, cook to the late Duke of
Newcastle, this was whimsically parodied by a Mr. Shaw, the writer of
a monody addressed to Lord Lyttleton:

      "When Philip's fam'd, all-conquering son,
      Had every blood-stain'd laurel won,
        He sigh'd that his creative word,
          Like that which rules the skies,
          Could not bid other nations rise,
        To glut his yet unsated sword.

      "But when Le-Stue's unrivall'd spoon,
      Like Alexander's sword, with flesh had done,
        He heav'd no sigh, he made no moan;
          Not limited to human kind,
          To fire his wonder-teeming mind,
        He rais'd _ragouts_ and _olios_ of his own."


[156] When a gentleman, whose industry and integrity have raised him
to the rank of an Alderman of London, was apprentice, he one Sunday
afternoon took a walk with several of his friends to Islington.
Considering smoking as a manly accomplishment, he put a pipe in his
mouth. A respectable citizen who knew his master, meeting him in the
fields, with a grave face accosted him as follows: "How now, Tom!
smoking tobacco! pray who was your teacher? If you mean to be rich,
unlearn it as fast as you can, for I never knew a man worth a guinea
who stuck a pipe in his mouth before he was twenty." "The d--l you
did not," replied the boy, "then I will never smoke another." He
dashed his clay tube to the ground, and adhered to his resolution.

[157] The sign by which this circumstance is intimated was at first
inscribed GOODCHILD and WEST. Some of Mr. Hogarth's city friends
informing him that it was usual for the senior partner's name to
precede, it was altered.

[158] Madame Pompadour, in her remarks on the English taste for
music, says "they are invariably fond of everything that is full in
the mouth."

[159] The inscription must remind every reader of Pope's lines,--

      "Where London's column, pointing to the skies,
      Like a tall bully rears its head, and lies," etc.

The Duke of Buckingham's epigram on this magnificent pillar is not so
generally known:

      "Here stand I,
      The Lord knows why;
      But if I fall--
      Have at ye all!"


[160] To mark the midnight hour, each of the watches is a quarter
after twelve.

[161] This reverend gentleman is said to be intended for Mr. Platell,
once curate of Barnet.

[162] A copy of this figure on a larger scale is engraved by Mr.
Bartolozzi.

[163] The following whimsical notice, written by a believer in
transmigration, was a few years ago sent to several country
gentlemen, accompanied with a request that the contents might, _if
possible_, be communicated to all the fish and fowl, birds and
beasts, in their respective manors:--


"A WARNING TO BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES.

      "Bustards, pheasants, woodcocks, widgeons,
      Wild-ducks, plovers, snipes, and pigeons;
      Every fowl of every sort,
      To your native haunts resort.
      Turbot, salmon, herring, soles,
      Plunge into your native holes.
      Bucks, and does, and hares, and fawns,
      Speed ye to your native lawns.
      Each to your closest covers haste!
      Beware! beware the man of taste!
      All that can escape, away!
      You're surely slaughter'd, if you stay,
      For Monday next is Lord Mayor's day."


[164] This scene is laid in the cellar of a house near Water Lane,
Fleet Street, then known by the name of the "Blood Bowl House;" which
curious appellation was given it from the various scenes of riot and
murder which were there perpetrated.

[165] This has been supposed to be intended for the same prostitute
whom we have before seen exhibited in a garret and a night-cellar: I
do not discover the least resemblance.

[166] I have been told that the dealers in perjury at Westminster
Hall, as well as the Old Bailey, consider this little circumstance as
a complete salvo for false swearing.

[167] A solemn exhortation was formerly given to the prisoners
appointed to die at Tyburn, in their way from Newgate. Mr. Robert
Dow, merchant tailor, who died in 1612, left £1, 6s. 8d. yearly for
ever, that the bellman should deliver to the unhappy criminals, as
they went by in the cart, a most pious and awful admonition. An
admonition of the same nature was read in the prison of Newgate the
night before they suffered.

[168] A man that some persons now living may remember by the name of
Tiddy Doll.

[169] Notwithstanding the boasted humanity of our laws, I am told
more criminals are annually executed in this little island than in
all Europe besides.

[170] I believe it was customary to despatch a second pigeon at the
moment the criminal suffered.

[171] Numerous as are the executions, they are not sufficient for the
anatomical students. It is not more than four or five years since
one of those necessary assistants to the art of chirurgery, called
_resurrection men_, being employed in his vocation of stealing a dead
body from a churchyard in the neighbourhood of London, was discovered
by a patrole, and shot in the grave. To prevent his employer being
disappointed of a _subject_, and to show her reverence for that art
which her husband had lost his life in endeavouring to improve, and
save the idle expense of a funeral, his _afflicted widow_, with the
fondness of an Ephesian matron, three days afterwards sold the body
of her murdered lord for sixteen shillings, to the very surgeon in
whose service he had suffered!

[172] When Oliver Cromwell, attended by Thurlow, once went to dine
in the city, the populace rent the air with their gratulations.
"Your highness," said the secretary, "may see by this that you have
the voice of the people as well as the voice of God."--"As to God,"
replied the Protector, "I will not talk about Him here; but for the
people, they would be more noisy, and more joyful too, if you and I
were going to be hanged."

[173] He is somewhat like a porter butt, with a head on it. In the
Straits of Thermopylæ he would have been pressed to death; but
_dead_, he might stop a breach _better than a better man_.

[174] In the second volume of Wood's _Body of Conveyancing_, p. 180,
is a London lease; one of the clauses gives a right to the landlord
and his friends to stand in the balcony during the time of "the shows
or pastimes upon the day commonly called the Lord Mayor's Day."

[175] In the _General Advertiser_ for March 9, 1748-49, it was thus
announced:

"This day is published, price 5s., a Print, designed and engraved by
Mr. Hogarth, representing a PRODIGY which lately appeared before the
gate of Calais,

      'O the Roast Beef of Old England!'

"To be had at the Golden Head in Leicester Square, and at the
print-shops."

[176] At this election a man was placed on a bulk, with a figure
representing a _child_ in his arms: as he whipped it, he exclaimed,
"What, _you little child_, must you be a member?" This election being
disputed, it appeared from the register book of the parish where Lord
Castlemain was born, that he was but twenty years of age when he
offered himself a candidate.




       *       *       *       *       *




  _SEASON 1874._

[Illustration]


A LIST OF BOOKS

PUBLISHED BY

CHATTO & WINDUS

(_Successors to John Camden Hotten_),

74 & 75, PICCADILLY, LONDON, W.


THE FAMOUS FRASER PORTRAITS.

MACLISE'S GALLERY OF

ILLUSTRIOUS LITERARY CHARACTERS.

With Notes by the late WILLIAM MAGINN, LL.D.

Edited, with copious Notes, by WILLIAM BATES, B.A., Professor of
Classics in Queen's College, Birmingham. The volume contains the
whole 83 SPLENDID AND MOST CHARACTERISTIC PORTRAITS, now first
issued in a complete form. In demy 4to, over 400 pages, cloth
gilt and gilt edges, 31_s._ 6_d._; or, in morocco elegant, 70_s._

  "What a truly charming book of pictures and prose, the
  quintessence, as it were, of Maclise and Maginn, giving the very
  form and pressure of their literary time, would this century of
  illustrious characters make."--_Notes and Queries._


[Illustration]

THE PRINCE OF CARICATURISTS.

THE WORKS OF JAMES GILLRAY,

_The Caricaturist_,

With the Story of his Life and Times, and full and Anecdotal
Descriptions of his Engravings.

Edited by THOS. WRIGHT, Esq., M.A., F.S.A.

Illustrated with 90 full-page Plates, and about 400 Wood Engravings.
Demy 4to, 600 pages, cloth extra, 31_s._ 6_d._; or, in morocco
elegant, 70_s._


BEAUTIFUL PICTURES BY BRITISH ARTISTS.

A Gathering of Favourites from our Picture Galleries, 1800-1870. By
WILKIE, CONSTABLE, J. M. W. TURNER, MULREADY, Sir EDWIN LANDSEER,
MACLISE, LESLIE, E. M. WARD, FRITH, Sir JOHN GILBERT, ANSDELL, MARCUS
STONE, Sir NOEL PATON, EYRE CROWE, FAED, MADOX BROWN. All Engraved
in the highest style of Art. With Notices of the Artists by SYDNEY
ARMYTAGE, M.A. A New Edition. Imperial 4to, cloth gilt and gilt
edges, 21_s._; or, in morocco elegant, 65_s._


UNIFORM WITH "BEAUTIFUL PICTURES."

COURT BEAUTIES OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES II.

From the Originals in the Royal Gallery at Windsor, by Sir PETER
LELY. Engraved in the highest style of Art by THOMSON, WRIGHT,
SCRIVEN, B. HOLL, WAGSTAFF, and T. A. DEANE. With Memoirs by Mrs.
JAMESON, Author of "Legends of the Madonna." New and sumptuous
"Presentation Edition." Imp. 4to, cloth gilt and gilt edges, 21_s._;
or, in morocco elegant, 65_s._

  "This truly beautiful and splendid production is equally a gem
  among the Fine Arts and in Literature."--_Quarterly Review._


COMPANION TO THE "HISTORY OF SIGNBOARDS."

=Advertising: its History=, in all Ages and Countries, with many very
Amusing Anecdotes and Examples of Successful Advertisers. Crown 8vo,
with numerous Illustrations, coloured and plain, cloth extra, 7_s._
6_d._

  [_In preparation._


ARE YOU ENGAGED? IF SO, GET

=Advice to Parties About to Marry.= A Series of Instructions in Jest
and Earnest. By the Hon. HUGH ROWLEY. With Humorous Illustrations.
Price 3_s._ 6_d._, elegantly bound, and enclosed in tinted wrapper,
beautifully scented by RIMMEL.

[Illustration]

  *** _Before taking the "awful plunge" be sure to consult this
  little work. If it is not a guarantee against life-long misery,
  it will at least be found of great assistance in selecting a
  partner for life._


=American Happy Thoughts.= The finest collection of American Humour
ever made. Foolscap 8vo, illustrated covers, 1_s._

  [_Preparing._


=Anacreon.= Illustrated by the Exquisite Designs of GIRODET.
Translated by THOMAS MOORE. Bound in vellum cloth and Etruscan gold,
12_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _A beautiful and captivating volume. The well-known Paris
  house, Firmin Didot, a few years since produced a miniature
  edition of these exquisite designs by photography, and sold a
  large number at £2 per copy. The Designs have been universally
  admired by both artists and poets._


=Armorial Register of the Order of the Garter=, from Edward III, to
the Present Time. The several Shields beautifully emblazoned in Gold
and Colours from the Original Stall Plates in St. George's Chapel,
Windsor. All emblazoned by hand. A sumptuous volume, bound in crimson
morocco, gilt, £20.


ARTEMUS WARD'S WORKS.

=Artemus Ward, Complete.= The Works of CHARLES FARRER BROWNE, better
known as "ARTEMUS WARD," now first collected. Crown 8vo, with fine
Portrait, facsimile of handwriting, &c., 540 pages, cloth neat, 7_s._
6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _Comprises all that the humourist has written in England or
  America. Admirers of Artemus Ward will be glad to possess his
  writings in a complete form._


=Artemus Ward's Lecture at the Egyptian Hall=, with the Panorama.
Edited by the late T. W. ROBERTSON, Author of "Caste," &c., and E. P.
HINGSTON. Small 4to, exquisitely printed, bound in green and gold,
with NUMEROUS TINTED ILLUSTRATIONS, 6_s._


=Artemus Ward: his Book.= With Notes and Introduction by the Editor
of the "Biglow Papers." One of the wittiest books published for many
years. Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._

  The _Saturday Review_ says:--"The author combines the powers of
  Thackeray with those of Albert Smith. The salt is rubbed in by a
  native hand--one which has the gift of tickling."


=Artemus Ward: his Travels among the Mormons and on the Rampage.=
Edited by E. P. HINGSTON, the Agent and Companion of A. WARD whilst
"on the Rampage." New Edition, price 1_s._

  *** _Some of Artemus's most mirth-provoking papers are to be
  found in this book. The chapters on the Mormons will unbend the
  sternest countenance. As bits of fun they are_ IMMENSE!


=Artemus Ward's Letters to "Punch,"= Among the Witches, and other
Sketches. Cheap Popular Edition. Fcap. 8vo, in illustrated cover,
1_s._; or, 16mo, bound in cloth extra, 2_s._

  *** _The volume contains, in addition, some quaint and humorous
  compositions which were found upon the author's table after his
  decease._


=Artemus Ward among the Fenians:= with the Showman's Experiences of
Life at Washington, and Military Ardour at Baldinsville. Toned paper,
price 6_d._


=Army Lists of the Roundheads and Cavaliers in the Civil War, 1642.=
Second Edition, Considerably Enlarged and Corrected. Edited, with
Notes, by EDWARD PEACOCK, F.S.A. 4to, half-Roxburghe, 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _Very interesting to Antiquaries and Genealogists._


=The Art of Amusing.= A Collection of Graceful Arts, Games, Tricks,
Puzzles, and Charades, intended to amuse everybody, and enable all to
amuse everybody else. By FRANK BELLEW. With nearly 300 Illustrations.
Crown 8vo, 4_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _One of the most entertaining handbooks of amusements ever
  published._


=Awful Crammers.= A New American Joke Book. Edited by TITUS A.
BRICK, Author of "Shaving Them." Fcap. 8vo, with numerous curious
Illustrations, 1_s._

A FINE EDITION is also published, in crown 8vo, printed on toned
paper, and bound in cloth gilt, at 3_s._ 6_d._

  "Rarer than the phœnix is the virtuous man who will consent to
  lose a good anecdote because it isn't true."--DE QUINCY.


[Illustration]

=Babies and Ladders=: Essays on Things in General. By EMMANUEL KINK.
A New Work of Irresistible Humour (not American), which has excited
considerable attention. Fcap. 8vo, with numerous Vignettes by W. S.
GILBERT and others, 1_s._


=Bayard Taylor's Diversions of the Echo Club.= A Delightful Volume of
Refined Literary Humour. In 16mo, paper cover, with Portrait of the
Author, 1_s._ 6_d._; cloth extra, 2_s._


[Illustration]

UNIFORM WITH MR. RUSKIN'S EDITION OF "GRIMM."

=Bechstein's As Pretty as Seven=, and other Popular German Stories.
Collected by LUDWIG BECHSTEIN. With Additional Tales by the Brothers
GRIMM, 100 Illustrations by RICHTER. Small 4to, green and gold, 6_s._
6_d._; gilt edges, 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _One of the most delightful books for children ever
  published. It is, in every way, a Companion to the German Stories
  of the Brothers Grimm, and the tales are equally pure and
  healthful. The quaint simplicity of Richter's engravings will
  charm every lover of legendary lore._


=The Biglow Papers.= By JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. The Best Edition, with
full Glossary, of these extraordinary Verses. Fcap. 8vo, illustrated
cover, 1_s._


UNIFORM WITH OUR "RABELAIS."

=Boccaccio's Decameron.= Now fully translated into English, with
Introduction by THOMAS WRIGHT, F.S.A. Crown 8vo, with the BEAUTIFUL
ENGRAVINGS by STOTHARD which adorned Pickering's fine Edition,
published at £2 12_s._ 6_d._ This New Edition is only 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _A faithful translation, in which are restored many passages
  omitted in former Editions._

=Book of Hall-Marks=; or, Manual of Reference for the Goldsmith and
Silversmith. By ALFRED LUTSCHAUNIG, Manager of the Liverpool Assay
Office. Crown 8vo, with 46 Plates of the Hall-Marks of the different
Assay Towns of the United Kingdom, as now stamped on Plate and
Jewellery, 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _This work gives practical methods for testing the quality of
  gold and silver. It was compiled by the author for his own use,
  and as a Supplement to "Chaffers."_


=Booksellers, A History of.= A Work giving full Accounts of the
Great Publishing Houses and their Founders, both in London and the
Provinces, the History of their Rise and Progress, and descriptions
of the special class of Literature dealt in by each. Crown 8vo,
over 500 pages, with frontispiece and numerous Portraits and
Illustrations, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

  "In these days, ten ordinary Histories of Kings and Courtiers
  were well exchanged against the tenth part of one good History of
  Booksellers."--THOMAS CARLYLE.


=Booth's Epigrams=: Ancient and Modern, Humorous, Witty, Satirical,
Moral, and Panegyrical. Edited by the Rev. JOHN BOOTH, B.A. A New
Edition. Pott 8vo, cloth gilt, 6_s._


[Illustration: "Is our civilization a failure, or is the Caucasian
played out?"]

BRET HARTE'S WORKS.

_Widely known for their Exquisite Pathos and Delightful Humour._

=Bret Harte's Complete Works=, in Prose and Poetry. Now First
Collected. With Introductory Essay by J. M. BELLEW, Portrait of the
Author, and 50 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 650 pages, cloth extra,
7_s._ 6_d._


=Bret Harte's Luck of Roaring Camp=, and other Stories. Fcap. 8vo,
illustrated cover, 1_s._


=Bret Harte's That Heathen Chinee=, and other Humorous Poems. Fcap.
8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._ 6_d._


=Bret Harte's Sensation Novels Condensed.= Fcap. 8vo, illustrated
cover, 1_s._ 6_d._

  *** _A most enjoyable book, only surpassed, in its special class,
  by Thackeray's Burlesque Novels._


=Bret Harte's Lothaw=; or, The Adventures of a Young Gentleman in
Search of a Religion. By Mr. BENJAMINS (_Bret Harte_). Price 6_d._
Curiously Illustrated.


=Bret Harte's East and West.= Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._


=Bret Harte's Stories of the Sierras=, and other Sketches. With a
Wild Story of Western Life by JOAQUIN MILLER, Author of "Songs of the
Sierras." Illustrated cover, 1_s._


NEW EDITIONS OF SIR DAVID BREWSTER'S WORKS.

=Brewster's More Worlds than One=, the Creed of the Philosopher and
the Hope of the Christian. Eleventh Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, very
neat, 4_s._ 6_d._


=Brewster's Martyrs of Science=: Galileo, Tycho Brahe, Kepler. Crown
8vo, cloth, very neat, 4_s._ 6_d._


=Brewster's The Kaleidoscope Practically Described.= Crown 8vo, with
numerous Illustrations, cloth, very neat, 4_s._ 6_d._


=Brewster's The Stereoscope Practically Described.= Crown 8vo,
numerous Illustrations, cloth neat, 4_s._ 6_d._

  *** _This was the great philosopher's last contribution to
  practical science._


=Bright's (Rt. Hon. J., M.P.) Speeches= on Public Affairs of the last
Twenty Years. Collated with the best Public Reports. Royal 16mo, 370
pages, cloth extra, 1_s._

  *** _A book of special interest at the present time, and
  wonderfully cheap._


COLMAN'S HUMOROUS WORKS.

=Broad Grins.= My Nightgown and Slippers, and other Humorous
Works, Prose and Poetical, of GEORGE COLMAN the Younger. Now first
collected, with Life and Anecdotes of the Author, by GEORGE B.
BUCKSTONE. Crown 8vo, 500 pp., 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _Admirers of genuine English wit and humour will be delighted
  with this edition of George Colman's humorous works. As a wit,
  he has had no equal in our time; and a man with a tithe of his
  ability could, at the present day, make the fortune of any one of
  our so-called "comic journals," and bankrupt the rest._


NEW BOOK FOR BOYS.

[Illustration]

=The Conquest of the Sea=: A History of Divers and Diving, from
the Earliest Times to the Present Day. By HENRY SIERE. Profusely
Illustrated with fine Wood Engravings. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra,
4_s._ 6_d._


UNIFORM WITH THE 2_s._ EDITION OF HIS WORKS.

=Carlyle (T.) on the Choice of Books.= With a New Life and Anecdotes
of the Author. Brown cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._; paper cover, 1_s._


=Chips from a Rough Log.= Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._


=Christmas Songs and Ballads.= Selected and Edited by JOSHUA
SYLVESTER. A New Edition, beautifully printed and bound in cloth,
extra gilt, gilt edges, 3_s._ 6_d._


=Clerical Anecdotes and Pulpit Eccentricities.= An entirely New
Gathering. Square 16mo, in illustrated paper wrapper, 1_s._ 4_d._; or
cloth neat, 1_s._ 10_d._


=The Country of the Dwarfs.= By PAUL DU CHAILLU. A Book of Startling
Interest. Fcap. 8vo, illustrated with full-page Engravings, in fancy
wrapper, 1_s._


=Cruikshank's Comic Almanack.= FIRST SERIES, 1835-43. A Gathering
of the BEST HUMOUR, the WITTIEST SAYINGS, the Drollest Quips, and
the Best Things of THACKERAY, HOOD, MAYHEW, ALBERT SMITH, A'BECKETT,
ROBERT BROUGH, &c. With about One Thousand Woodcuts and Steel
Engravings by the inimitable CRUIKSHANK, HINE, LANDELLS, &c. Crown
8vo, cloth gilt, a very thick volume, price 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]


=Cruikshank's Comic Almanack.= SECOND SERIES, 1844-53, Completing the
work. Uniform with the FIRST SERIES, and written and illustrated by
the same humorists. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, a very thick volume, price
7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _The two volumes (each sold separately) form a most
  extraordinary gathering of the best wit and humour of the past
  half-century. The work forms a "Comic History of England" for
  twenty years._


THE BEST GUIDE TO HERALDRY.

=Cussans' Handbook of Heraldry=; with Instructions for Tracing
Pedigrees and Deciphering Ancient MSS.; also, Rules for the
Appointment of Liveries, &c., &c. By JOHN E. CUSSANS. Illustrated
with 360 Plates and Woodcuts. Cr. 8vo, cloth extra, gilt and
emblazoned, 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _This volume, beautifully printed on toned paper, contains
  not only the ordinary matter to be found in the best books on the
  science of Armory, but several other subjects hitherto unnoticed.
  Amongst these may be mentioned_:--1. DIRECTIONS FOR TRACING
  PEDIGREES. 2. DECIPHERING ANCIENT MSS., ILLUSTRATED BY ALPHABETS
  AND FACSIMILES. 3. THE APPOINTMENT OF LIVERIES. 4. CONTINENTAL
  AND AMERICAN HERALDRY, &C.


VERY IMPORTANT COUNTY HISTORY.

[Illustration]

=Cussans' History of Hertfordshire.= A County History, got up in
a very superior manner, and ranging with the finest works of its
class. Illustrated with full-page Plates on Copper and Stone, and a
profusion of small Woodcuts. Parts I. to VI. are now ready, price
21_s._ each.

  *** _An entirely new History of this important County, great
  attention being given to all matters pertaining to the Family
  History of the locality._


UNIFORM WITH THE "CHARLES DICKENS EDITION."

=Dickens: The Story of his Life.= By THEODORE TAYLOR, Author of the
"Life of Thackeray." Uniform with the "Charles Dickens Edition" of
his Works, and forming a Supplementary Volume to that Issue. Cr. 8vo,
crimson cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  "Anecdotes seem to have poured in upon the author from all
  quarters.... Turn where we will through these 370 pleasant pages,
  something worth reading is sure to meet the eye."--_The Standard._


Also Published:

THE "BEST EDITION" of the above Work, illustrated by Photographic
Frontispiece of "Dickens as Captain Bobadil," Portraits, Facsimiles,
&c. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

THE "CHEAP EDITION," in 16mo, paper wrapper, with Frontispiece and
Vignette, 2_s._


UNIFORM WITH THE "CHARLES DICKENS EDITION."

=Dickens' Speeches=, Social and Literary, now first collected.
Uniform with, and forming a Supplementary Volume to, the "CHARLES
DICKENS EDITION." Crown 8vo, crimson cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._

  "His speeches are as good as any of his printed writings."--_The
  Times._


Also Published:

THE "BEST EDITION," in crown 8vo, with fine Portrait by Count
D'ORSAY, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

THE "CHEAP EDITION," without Portrait, in 16mo, paper wrapper, 2_s._

=Dickens' Life and Speeches=, in One Volume, 16mo, cloth extra, 2_s._
6_d._


BALZAC'S CONTES DROLATIQUES.

=Droll Stories, collected from the Abbeys of Touraine.= NOW FIRST
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED, with the whole 425
Marvellous, Extravagant, and Fantastic Illustrations (the finest he
has ever done) by GUSTAVE DORÉ. Beautifully printed, in 8vo, cloth
extra, gilt, gilt top, 12_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _The most singular designs ever attempted by any artist. So
  crammed is the book with pictures, that even the contents are
  adorned with thirty-three Illustrations._

A few copies of the FRENCH ORIGINAL are still on sale, bound
half-Roxburghe, gilt top--a very handsome book--price 12_s._ 6_d._


=The Danbury Newsman.= A Brief but Comprehensive Record of the Doings
of a Remarkable People, under more Remarkable Circumstances, and
Chronicled in a most Remarkable Manner. By JAMES M. BAILEY. Uniform
with Twain's "Screamers." Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._

  "A real American humorist."--_Figaro._


=The Derby Day.= A Sporting Novel of intense interest, by a
well-known writer. Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._


=Disraeli's (Rt. Hon. B.) Speeches= on the Conservative Policy of the
last Thirty Years, including the Speech at the Literary Fund Dinner,
specially revised by the Author. Royal 16mo, paper cover, with
Portrait, 1_s._ 4_d._; in cloth, 1_s._ 10_d._


=D'Urfey's ("Tom") Wit and Mirth;= or, PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY:
Being a Collection of the best Merry Ballads and Songs, Old and New.
Fitted to all Humours, having each their proper Tune for either Voice
or Instrument: most of the Songs being new set. London: Printed by W.
Pearson, for J. Tonson, at Shakespeare's Head, over-against Catherine
Street in the Strand, 1719.

An exact and beautiful reprint of this much-prized work, with the
Music to the Songs, just as in the rare original. In 6 vols., large
fcap. 8vo, antique boards, edges uncut, beautifully printed on laid
paper, made expressly for the work, price £3 3_s._; or LARGE PAPER
COPIES (a limited number only printed), price £5 5_s._

  *** THE PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY _have now retained their
  celebrity for a century and a half. The difficulty of obtaining
  a copy has of late years raised sets to a fabulous Price, and
  has made even odd volumes costly. Considering the classical
  reputation which the book has thus obtained, and its very
  high interest as illustrative of the manners, customs, and
  amusements of English life during the half century following the
  Restoration, no apology is needed for placing such a work more
  within the reach of general readers and students by re-issuing it
  for the first time since its original appearance, and at about
  a tithe of the price for which the old edition could now be
  obtained._

  _For drinking-songs and love-songs, sprightly ballads, merry
  stories, and political squibs, there are none to surpass these in
  the language. In improvising such pieces, and in singing them_,
  D'URFEY _was perhaps never equalled, except in our own century
  by_ THEODORE HOOK. _The sallies of his wit amused and delighted
  three successive English sovereigns; and while his plays are
  forgotten, his songs and ballads still retain the light_ abandon
  _and joyous freshness that recommended them to the wits and beaux
  of Queen Anne's days. Nor can the warm and affectionate eulogy of
  Steele and Addison be forgotten, and_ D'URFEY _may now take his
  place on the bookshelves of the curious, side by side with the
  other worthies of his age_.


=The Earthward Pilgrimage=, from the Next World to that which now is.
By MONCURE D. CONWAY. Crown 8vo, beautifully printed and bound, 7_s._
6_d._


=Edgar Allan Poe's Prose and Poetical Works=; including Additional
Tales and the fine Essays by this great Genius, now FIRST PUBLISHED
IN THIS COUNTRY. With a Translation of CHARLES BAUDELAIRE'S "Essay
on Poe." 750 pages, crown 8vo, with fine Portrait and Illustrations,
cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration: POE'S COTTAGE AT FORDHAM.]


=Mrs. Ellis's Mothers of Great Men.= A New Edition of this well-known
Work, with numerous very beautiful Portraits. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt,
over 500 pages, 7_s._ 6_d._

  [_In preparation._


THE STANDARD WORK ON THE SUBJECT.

=Emanuel on Diamonds and Precious Stones=; Their History, Value,
and Properties; with Simple Tests for ascertaining their Reality.
By HARRY EMANUEL, F.R.G.S. With numerous Illustrations, Tinted and
Plain. A New Edition, with the Prices brought down to the Present
Time. Crown 8vo, full gilt, 6_s._

  "Will be acceptable to many readers."--_Times._

  "An invaluable work for buyers and sellers."--_Spectator._

  *** _The present, which is greatly superior to the first edition,
  gives the latest market value for Diamonds and Precious Stones of
  every size._


=The Englishman's House=, from a Cottage to a Mansion. A Practical
Guide to Members of Building Societies, and all interested in
Selecting or Building a House. By C. J. RICHARDSON, Architect,
Author of "Old English Mansions," &c. Second Edition, Corrected and
Enlarged, with nearly 600 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 550 pages, cloth,
7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _This Work might not inappropriately be termed "A Book of
  Houses." It gives every variety of house, from a workman's
  cottage to a nobleman's palace. The book is intended to supply
  a want long felt, viz., a plain, non-technical account of every
  style of house, with the cost and manner of building._


=Our English Surnames=: Their Sources and Significations. By CHARLES
WAREING BARDSLEY, M.A. Crown 8vo, about 600 pages, cloth extra, 9_s._


INDISPENSABLE TO EVERY HOUSEHOLD.

=Everybody Answered.= A Handy Book for All; and a Guide to the
Housewife, the Servant, the Cook, the Tradesman, the Workman, the
Professional Man, the Clerk, &c., &c., in the Duties belonging to
their respective Callings. One thick volume, crown 8vo, cloth gilt,
4_s._ 6_d._

  [_In preparation._


=Family Fairy Tales=; or, Glimpses of Elfland at Heatherstone
Hall. Edited by CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL, Author of "Puck on Pegasus,"
&c. Adorned with beautiful Pictures of "My Lord Lion," "King
Uggermugger," and other Great Folks, by M. ELLEN EDWARDS, and other
artists. Handsomely printed on toned paper, in cloth, green and gold,
price 4_s._ 6_d._ plain, 5_s._ 6_d._ coloured.


=Faraday's Chemical History of a Candle.= Lectures delivered to a
Juvenile Audience. A New Edition of this well-known volume, which has
been so long out of print, Edited by W. CROOKES, Esq., F.S.A., &c.
Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with all the Original Illustrations, price
4_s._ 6_d._


=Faraday's Various Forces of Nature.= A New Edition, with all the
Original Illustrations, Edited by W. CROOKES, Esq., F.S.A., &c. Crown
8vo, cloth extra, 4_s._ 6_d._


FLAGELLATION AND THE FLAGELLANTS.

[Illustration]

=A History of the Rod= in all Countries, from the Earliest Period
to the Present Time. The use of the Rod in the Church, Convent,
Monastery, Prison, Army, Navy, in public and private; the use of the
Birch in the Family, Ladies' Seminaries, Boys' Schools, Colleges,
the Boudoir, Ancient and Modern. By the Rev. W. COOPER, B.A. Second
Edition, revised and corrected, with numerous Illustrations. Thick
crown 8vo, cloth extra gilt, 12_s._ 6_d._

  "A remarkable, and certainly a very readable volume."--_Daily
  Telegraph._


=The Fiend's Delight=: A "Cold Collation" of Atrocities. By DOD
GRILE. New Edition, in illustrated wrapper, fcap. 8vo, 1_s._; or
crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3_s._ 6_d._

  "A specimen of 'American Humour' as unlike that of all other
  American humourists, as the play of young human Merry-Andrews is
  unlike that of a young and energetic demon whose horns are well
  budded."--_New York Nation._


=The Finish to Life in and out of London=; or, The Final Adventures
of Tom, Jerry, and Logic. By PIERCE EGAN. Royal 8vo, cloth extra,
with Spirited Coloured Illustrations by CRUIKSHANK, 21_s._

  *** _An extraordinary picture of_ "LONDON BY NIGHT" _in the
  Days of George the Fourth. All the strange places of amusement
  in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden and St. James's are fully
  described, and very queer places they were too!_


WALK UP! WALK UP! AND SEE THE

=Fools' Paradise=; with the Many Wonderful Adventures there, as seen
in the strange, surprising

=PEEP-SHOW OF PROFESSOR WOLLEY COBBLE=, Raree Showman these
Five-and-Twenty Years.

Crown 4to, with nearly 200 immensely funny Pictures, all beautifully
coloured, bound in extra cloth gilt, price 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration: THE PROFESSOR'S LEETLE MUSIC LESSON.]


A SECOND SERIES IS NOW READY, CALLED

=Further Adventures in Fools' Paradise=,

with the Many Wonderful Doings, as seen in the

=PEEP-SHOW OF PROFESSOR WOLLEY COBBLE=.

Crown 4to, with the Pictures beautifully Coloured, uniform with the
FIRST SERIES, in extra cloth gilt, price 7_s._ 6_d._


A COMPANION TO ALL FRENCH DICTIONARIES.

=French Slang=; or, Eccentricities of the French Language.

A DICTIONARY OF

=PARISIAN ARGOT=, including all recent expressions, whether of
the Street, the Theatre, or the Prison. Handsomely bound in
half-Roxburghe, illustrated with 30 large Wood Engravings. Price
7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration]

  *** _This book is indispensable to all readers of modern French
  literature. It is, besides, amusing in itself, and may be taken
  up to while away an idle half-hour. It does for French what our
  "Slang Dictionary" does for English._


=Fun for the Million=: A Gathering of Choice Wit and Humour, Good
Things, and Sublime Nonsense, by DICKENS, JERROLD, SAM SLICK, CHAS.
H. ROSS, HOOD, THEODORE HOOK, MARK TWAIN, BROUGH, COLMAN, TITUS A.
BRICK, and a Host of other Humourists. With Pictures by MATT MORGAN,
GILBERT, NAST, THOMPSON, CRUIKSHANK, Jun., BRUNTON, &c. In fcap. 4to,
profusely illustrated, with picture wrapper, 1_s._

[Illustration]


=The Genial Showman=; or, Show Life in the New World. Adventures with
Artemus Ward, and the Story of his Life. By E. P. HINGSTON. Third
Edition. Crown 8vo, Illustrated by BRUNTON, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _This is a most interesting work. It gives Sketches of
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  with chapters descriptive of Artemus Ward's visit to England._


RUSKIN AND CRUIKSHANK.

=German Popular Stories.= Collected by the Brothers GRIMM, and
Translated by EDGAR TAYLOR. Edited by JOHN RUSKIN. With 22
Illustrations after the inimitable designs of GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. Both
Series complete. Square crown 8vo, 6_s._ 6_d._; gilt leaves, 7_s._
6_d._

  *** _These are the designs which Mr. Ruskin has praised so
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=Gesta Romanorum=; or, Entertaining Stories, invented by the Monks as
a Fireside Recreation, and commonly applied in their Discourses from
the Pulpit. A New Edition, with Introduction by THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq.,
M.A., F.S.A. Two vols. large fcap. 8vo, only 250 copies printed, on
fine ribbed paper, 18_s._; or, LARGE PAPER EDITION (only a few copies
printed), 30_s._


=Gladstone's (Rt. Hon. W. E.) Speeches= on Great Questions of the Day
during the last Thirty Years. Collated with the best public reports.
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=Golden Treasury of Thought.= The Best Encyclopædia of Quotations and
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formed. Selected and Edited by THEODORE TAYLOR, Author of "Thackeray,
the Humorist and Man of Letters," "Story of Charles Dickens' Life."
Crown 8vo, very handsomely bound, cloth gilt, and gilt edges, 7_s._
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=Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.= 1785. A genuine
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  *** _Only a small number of copies of this very vulgar, but very
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=Hall's (Mrs. S. C.) Sketches of Irish Character.= With numerous
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[Illustration]

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COMPANION TO "THE SECRET OUT."

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=Hans Breitmann's Ballads.= By J. G. LELAND. The Complete Work, from
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=Hatton's (Jos.) Kites and Pigeons.= A most amusing Novelette. With
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[Illustration]

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OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES' WORKS.

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THE ONLY COMPLETE HOGARTH EVER PUBLISHED.

[Illustration]

=Hogarth's Works=; with Life and Anecdotal Descriptions of the
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[Illustration]

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=Jennings' (Hargrave) The Rosicrucians: Their Rites and Mysteries.=
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=Josh Billings: His Book of Sayings.= With Introduction by E. P.
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=Kalendars of Gwynedd=; or, Chronological Lists of Lords-Lieutenant,
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UNIFORM WITH "DR. SYNTAX."

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[Illustration]

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=Little Breeches=, and other Pieces (PIKE COUNTY BALLADS). By Colonel
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=The Little London Directory of 1677.= The Oldest Printed List of
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beautiful binding, after the original, 6_s._ 6_d._


=The Log of the Water Lily=, during Three Cruises on the Rhine,
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B.A. Illustrated by ALFRED THOMPSON, B.A. Fifth Edition, revised and
considerably enlarged. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt, 5_s._


[Illustration]

=Longfellow's Prose Works=, Complete, including his Stories and
Essays, now for the first time collected. Edited, with a Preface, by
the Author of "Tennysoniana." With Portrait and Illustrations, drawn
by VALENTINE BROMLEY, and beautifully engraved, 650 pages, crown 8vo,
cloth gilt, 7_s._ 6_d._


=Lost Beauties of the English Language.= An Appeal to Authors,
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=Magic and Mystery.= A Splendid Collection of Tricks with Cards,
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COMPANION TO "THE SECRET OUT."

=The Magician's Own Book.= Containing ample Instructions for
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MARK TWAIN'S WORKS.

=Mark Twain's Choice Works.= With extra passages to the "Innocents
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[Illustration]

=Mark Twain's Innocents Abroad=: The Voyage Out. Crown 8vo, cloth,
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=Mark Twain's New Pilgrim's Progress=: The Voyage Home. Crown 8vo,
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=Mark Twain's Burlesque Autobiography=, First Mediæval Romance, and
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=Mark Twain's Eye-Openers.= A Volume of immensely Funny Sayings, and
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=Mark Twain's Jumping Frog=, and other Humorous Sketches. Fcap. 8vo,
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  "An inimitably funny book."--_Saturday Review._


=Mark Twain's Pleasure Trip on the Continent of Europe.= (The
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=Mark Twain's Practical Jokes=; or, Mirth with Artemus Ward, and
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=Mark Twain's Screamers.= A Gathering of Delicious Bits and Short
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=Mayhew's London Characters:= Illustrations of the Humour, Pathos,
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=Magna Charta.= An exact Facsimile of the Original Document,
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A full Translation, with Notes, has been prepared, price 6_d._


ENTIRELY NEW GAMES.

[Illustration]

=The Merry Circle=, and How the Visitors were entertained during
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=Monumental Inscriptions of the West Indies=, from the Earliest
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=Mr. Brown on the Goings-on of Mrs. Brown= at the Tichborne Trial,
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=The Mystery of Mr. E. Drood.= An Adaptation. By ORPHEUS C. KERR.
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=The Mystery of the Good Old Cause:= Sarcastic Notices of those
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=Never Caught in Blockade-Running.= An exciting book of Adventures
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[Illustration]

=Napoleon III., the Man of His Time;= from Caricatures. PART I. THE
STORY OF THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON III., as told by J. M. HASWELL.

PART II. THE SAME STORY, as told by the POPULAR CARICATURES of the
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=Nuggets and Dust=, panned out in California by DOD GRILE. Edited
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THE OLD DRAMATISTS.

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=Philip Massinger's Plays.= From the Text of WM. GIFFORD. With
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=Original Lists of Persons of Quality;= Emigrants; Religious Exiles;
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=Parochial History of the County of Cornwall.= Compiled from the best
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volumes, 16_s._ each; the fourth volume, 18_s._


COMPANION TO THE "BON GAULTIER BALLADS."

=Puck on Pegasus.= By H. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL. In 4to, printed within
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  *** _This most amusing work has passed through Five Editions,
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By the same Author.

=Modern Babylon=, and other Poems. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra,
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COMPANION TO "CUSSANS' HERALDRY."

[Illustration]

=The Pursuivant of Arms=; or, Heraldry founded upon Facts. A Popular
Guide to the Science of Heraldry. By J. R. PLANCHÉ, Esq., F.S.A.,
Somerset Herald. To which are added, Essays on the BADGES OF THE
HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK. A New Edition, enlarged and revised by
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PICCADILLY ANNUAL FOR 1874.

[Illustration]

=The Knowing Ones at Home.= Stories of their Doings at a Local
Science Meeting, at the Crystal Palace, at St. Paul's, at a
Foresters' Fête, &c., &c. A New and entirely Original Humorous
Story, crammed with Fun from the first page to the last. Profusely
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FOR GOLD AND SILVERSMITHS.

=Private Book of Useful Alloys and Memoranda for Goldsmiths and
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"AN AWFULLY JOLLY BOOK FOR PARTIES."

=Puniana:= Thoughts Wise and Otherwise. By the Hon. HUGH ROWLEY. Best
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[Illustration]

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By the same Author.

=A Second Series of Puniana:= Containing nearly 100 beautifully
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GUSTAVE DORÉ'S DESIGNS.

[Illustration]

=The Works of Rabelais.= Faithfully translated from the French, with
variorum Notes, and numerous characteristic Illustrations by GUSTAVE
DORÉ. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 700 pages. Price 7_s._ 6_d._


UNIFORM WITH "WONDERFUL CHARACTERS."

=Remarkable Trials and Notorious Characters.= From "Half-Hanged
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=Rogues and Vagabonds of the Racecourse.= Full Explanations how they
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=Roll of Caerlaverock=: the Oldest Heraldic Roll; including the
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=Roman Catholics in the County of York in 1604.= Transcribed from the
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[Illustration]

=Ross's (Chas. H.) Unlikely Tales and Wrong-Headed Essays.= Fcap.
8vo, with numerous quaint and amusing Illustrations, 1_s._


=Ross's (Chas. H.) Story of a Honeymoon.= A New Edition of this
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  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

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  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
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  To avoid duplication, the page numbering in the publisher's Book
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  Pg 46, Footnote [12], 'Albert Durer' replaced by 'Albrecht Durer'.
  Pg 57, 'Gobelines' replaced by 'Gobelins'.
  Pg 60, Illustration caption: 'BEAUTY, PLATE II.' replaced by
             'BEAUTY, PLATE I.'.
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