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Title: Hogarth's Works, Volume 2 (of 3) - With life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures
Author: Nichols, John Gough, Ireland, John
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

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  HOGARTH'S WORKS:

  WITH

  _LIFE AND ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF HIS PICTURES_.


  SECOND SERIES.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE I.]



  HOGARTH'S WORKS:

  WITH

  _LIFE AND ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF
  HIS PICTURES._

  BY

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

  [Illustration]

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

  Second Series.

  London:

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



LIST OF PLATES

DESCRIBED IN THE SECOND SERIES.


                                                                  PAGE
  MARRIAGE A LA MODE--

      PLATE I. The Marriage Settlement,                 _Frontispiece_

      PLATE II. The Viscount and his Lady at Home,                  24

      PLATE III. The Viscount's Visit to the Quack Doctor,          28

      PLATE IV. The Countess's Morning Levee,                       36

      PLATE V. The Husband killed in a Bagnio,                      40

      PLATE VI. Death of the Countess,                              44

  FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY,                                           54

  SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY,                                          56

  CRUELTY IN PERFECTION,                                            58

  THE REWARD OF CRUELTY,                                            62

  BEER STREET,                                                      66

  GIN LANE,                                                         68

  PAUL BEFORE FELIX (Burlesqued),                                   74

  PAUL PREACHING BEFORE FELIX,                                      76

  THE SAME--ANOTHER ENGRAVING,                                      78

  MOSES AND PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER,                                     82

  FOUR PRINTS OF AN ELECTION--

      PLATE I. The Entertainment,                                   88

      PLATE II. Canvassing for Votes,                               98

      PLATE III. The Polling,                                      106

      PLATE IV. Chairing the Member,                               112

  THE MARCH TO FINCHLEY,                                           122

  THE INVASION--

     PLATE I. France,                                              140

      PLATE II. England,                                           142

  THE COCKPIT,                                                     146

  CREDULITY, SUPERSTITION, AND FANATICISM,                         160

  THE TIMES--

      PLATE I.,                                                    180

      PLATE II.,                                                   208

  JOHN WILKES, ESQ.,                                               222

  THE REV. C. CHURCHILL,                                           228

  BOYS PEEPING AT NATURE (2 Plates),                               244

  THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE,                                           246

  THE LECTURE,                                                     250

  THE ORCHESTRA,                                                   254

  THE COMPANY OF UNDERTAKERS,                                      258

  CHARACTER AND CARICATURE,                                        266

  SARAH MALCOLM,                                                   268

  COLUMBUS BREAKING THE EGG,                                       276

  THE FIVE ORDERS OF PERIWIGS,                                     284

  THE BENCH,                                                       290

  THE BEGGARS' OPERA,                                              292

  THE INDIAN EMPEROR,                                              300

  THE BATHOS,                                                      312

[Illustration: (end of section floral icon)]



HOGARTH ILLUSTRATED.



MARRIAGE A LA MODE.

  "'Tis from high life our characters are drawn."


In his preceding prints Mr. Hogarth generally pointed his satire at
persons in a subordinate situation, and took his examples from the
inferior ranks of society. From the situation of his characters, and
the minute precision with which he displayed the scenes he professed
to delineate, we sometimes see little violations of that decorum
which is perhaps necessary in engravings professedly designed for
furniture. For this neglect of delicacy some of his prints were
censured; to remove all apprehensions of this series being liable to
the same objections, they were thus announced in the _London Daily
Post_ of April 7, 1743:--

  "Mr. Hogarth intends to publish, by subscription, six prints
  from copperplates, engraved by the best masters in Paris after
  his own paintings; the heads, for the better preservation
  of the characters and expressions, to be done by the author,
  representing a variety of modern occurrences in high life, and
  called 'Marriage à la Mode.'

  "Particular care is taken that the whole work shall not be liable
  to exception, on account of any indecency or inelegancy; and that
  none of the characters represented shall be personal, etc."

The artist has adhered to his engagement: he has struck at an
higher order, and displayed the follies and vices which frequently
degrade our nobility. He has exhibited the prospect of a fashionable
marriage, where the gentleman is attracted by riches, and the lady
by ambition. That misery and destruction succeeded an union founded
upon such principles is not to be wondered at; the progress of that
misery, and the final destruction of the actors, is so delineated
as to form a regular and well-divided tragedy. In the first act
are represented five principal characters; and three of them, by a
regular chain of incidents naturally flowing from each other, fall
victims to their own vices. The young nobleman, for attempting to
revenge the violation of his wife's virtue, which he never cherished,
is killed by her paramour, who for this murder suffers an ignominious
death; and the lady, distracted at the reflection of having been
the cause of their lives terminating in so horrid a manner, makes
her own quietus with a dose of laudanum. This is painting to the
understanding, appealing to the heart, and making the pencil an
advocate in the cause of morality. It is doing that poetical justice
which our dramatists have sometimes neglected, and in which they have
perhaps been justified by the common events of human life; for it
must be acknowledged, that while virtue is frequently unfortunate, we
often see vice successful. Notwithstanding this, those pictures are
surely best calculated to encourage men in the practice of the social
duties which display the evils consequent upon their violation.
Whatever poetical justice may allow, morality demands that some
examples should be held up to prove "that the omission of a duty
frequently leads to the perpetration of a crime; and that crimes of
so black a dye as are here represented, almost invariably terminate
in wretchedness, infamy, and death."

The original pictures were, on the 6th of June 1750, purchased by
Mr. Lane of Hillingdon, near Uxbridge, for one hundred and twenty
guineas!--a price so inadequate to their merit, and to what it might
have been fairly presumed they would have produced even at that
time, that it becomes difficult to account for it in any other way
than by supposing that the strange way in which Mr. Hogarth ordered
the auction to be conducted puzzled the public, who, not exactly
comprehending this new mode of bidding, declined attending or bidding
at all.

The following particulars relative to the sale were communicated by
Mr. Lane to Mr. John Nichols:--

"Some time after the pictures had been finished, perhaps six or
seven years, they were advertised to be sold by a sort of auction,
not carried on by personal bidding, but by a written ticket, on
which every one was to put the price he would give, with his name
subscribed to it. These papers were to be received by Mr. Hogarth for
the space of one month, and the highest bidder at twelve o'clock,
on the last day of the month, was to be the purchaser: none but
those who had in writing made their biddings were to be admitted on
the day that was to determine the sale. This _nouvelle_ method of
proceeding probably disobliged the public, and there seemed to be
at that time a combination against poor Hogarth, who, perhaps, from
the extraordinary and frequent approbation of his works, might have
imbibed some degree of vanity, which the town in general, friends
and foes, seemed resolved to mortify. If this was the case (and to
me it is very apparent), they fully effected their design; for on
the memorable 6th of June 1750, which was to decide the fate of
this capital work, about eleven o'clock, Mr. Lane, the fortunate
purchaser, arrived at the Golden Head, when, to his great surprise,
expecting (what he had been a witness to in 1745, when Hogarth
disposed of many of his pictures) to have found his painting room
full of noble and great personages, he only found the painter and
his ingenious friend Dr. Parsons, secretary to the Royal Society,
talking together, and expecting a number of spectators at least, if
not of buyers. Mr. Hogarth then produced the highest bidding, from a
gentleman well known, of £110. Nobody coming in, about ten minutes
before twelve, by the decisive clock in the room, Mr. Lane told Mr.
Hogarth he would make the pounds guineas. The clock then struck
twelve, and Hogarth wished Mr. Lane joy of his purchase, hoping it
was an agreeable one. Mr. Lane answered, 'Perfectly so.' Now followed
a scene of disturbance from Hogarth's friend the Doctor, and what
more affected Mr. Lane, a great appearance of disappointment in the
painter, and truly with great reason. The Doctor told him he had
hurt himself greatly by fixing the determination of the sale at so
early an hour, when the people in that part of the town were hardly
up. Hogarth, in a tone and manner that could not escape observation,
said, 'Perhaps it may be so!' Mr. Lane, after a short pause, declared
himself to be of the same opinion; adding, that the artist was
very poorly rewarded for his labour, and if he thought it would
be of service to him, would give him till three o'clock to find a
better purchaser. Hogarth warmly accepted the offer, and expressed
his acknowledgments for this kindness in the strongest terms. The
proposal likewise received great encomiums from the Doctor, who
proposed to make it public. This was peremptorily forbidden by Mr.
Lane, whose concession in favour of our artist was remembered by him
to the time of his death. About one o'clock, two hours sooner than
the time appointed, Hogarth said he could no longer trespass on his
generosity, but that if he was pleased with his purchase, he himself
was abundantly so with the purchaser. He then desired Mr. Lane to
promise that he would not dispose of the pictures without previously
acquainting him of his intention, and that he would never permit any
person, under pretence of cleaning, to meddle with them, as he always
desired to take that office on himself. This promise was readily made
by Mr. Lane, who has been tempted more than once by Mr. Hogarth to
part with his bargain at a price to be named by himself. When Mr.
Lane bought the pictures they were in Carlo Maratte frames, which
cost the painter four guineas a-piece."

On the death of Mr. Lane the six pictures became the property of his
nephew Colonel Cawthorne, and were in the summer of 1792 put up by
auction at Mr. Christie's, and the proprietor bought them in at nine
hundred guineas.

They were a short time afterwards purchased by Mr. Angerstein, at one
thousand guineas, and are now in his very fine collection.

If considered in the aggregate,--in conception, character, drawing,
pencilling, and colouring,--it will not be easy, perhaps not
possible, to find six pictures painted by any artist, in any age or
country, in which such variety of superlative merit is united.

       *       *       *       *       *

Since the publication of the first edition of these volumes, the
following description of "Marriage à la Mode" was found among the
papers of the late Mr. Lane of Hillingdon; and his family believe it
to be Hogarth's Explanation, either copied from his own handwriting,
or given verbally to Mr. Lane at the time he purchased the pictures.
It is subjoined, that the reader may form his own judgment:--


EXPLANATION

OF THE PAINTINGS OF THE LATE MR. HOGARTH, CALLED

MARRIAGE A LA MODE.

      "Where Titles deign with Cits to have and hold,
      And change rich blood for more substantial gold;
      And honour'd trade from interest turns aside,
      To hazard happiness for titled pride."--GARRICK.


_The First Picture._

"There is always a something wanting to make men happy: the great
think themselves not sufficiently rich, and the rich believe
themselves not enough distinguished. This is the case of the Alderman
of London, and the motive which makes him covet for his daughter the
alliance of a great lord; who, on his part, does not consent thereto
but on condition of enriching his son;--and this is what the painter
calls marriage _à la mode_.

"These sort of marriages are truly but too common in England; and
it is, moreover, not unfrequent to see them unhappy as they are
ill chosen. The two figures of the Alderman and the Earl are in
every respect so well characterized that they explain themselves.
The Alderman, with an air of business, counts his money like a man
used to this employment; and the Earl, full of his titles and the
greatness of his birth, which he lets you see goes as high as William
the Conqueror, is in an attitude which shows him full of pride; you
think you hear him say _me_, _my_ arms, _my_ titles, _my_ family,
_my_ ancestors: everything about him carries marks of distinction;
his very crutches, the humbling consequence of his infirmities, are
decked with an earl's coronet; these infirmities are introduced
here as the usual consequence of that irregularity of living but
too frequent among the great. The two persons who are betrothed, on
their parts are by no means attentive to one another: the one looks
at himself in the glass, is taking snuff, and thinking of nothing;
the other is playing negligently with a ring, and seems to hear with
indifference the conversation of a kind of a lawyer who attends the
execution of the marriage articles. Another lawyer is exclaiming with
admiration on the beauty of a building seen at a distance, and upon
which the Earl has spent his whole fortune, and has not sufficient to
finish the same. A number of idle footmen, who are about the court of
this building, finish the representation of the ruinous pageantry in
which the Earl is engaged."


_The Second Picture._

"That indifference between the parties which preceded marriage _à
la mode_ has not been wanting to follow it. We unite ourselves by
contract, and we live separately by inclination. Tired and fatigued
one of another, such husbands and wives have nothing in common but a
house, tiresome to the husband, and into which he enters as late as
he can; and which would not be less tiresome to the lady, was it not
sometimes the theatre of other pleasures, either in entertainments
or routs. There is here represented a room where there has just been
one of these routs, and the company just separated, as you see by the
wax candles not yet extinguished. The clock shows you it is noon; and
this anticipation of the night upon the day is not the slightest of
those strokes which are intended to show the disorder which reigns in
the house. Madam, who has just had her tea, is in an attitude which
explains itself perhaps too much. Be that as it will, the painter's
intention is to represent this lady neglected by her husband, under
dispositions which make a perfect contrast with the present situation
of this husband, who is just come home, and who appears in a state
of the most perfect indifference; fatigued, exhausted, and glutted
with pleasure. This figure of the husband, by the novelty of its
turn, the delicacy and truth of its expression, is most happily
executed. A steward of an old stamp, one of those, if such there be,
who are contented with their salary, seizes this moment, not being
able to find another, to settle some accounts. The disorder which he
perceives gives him a motion which expresses his chagrin, and his
fear for the speedy ruin of his master."


_The Third Picture._

"The bad conduct of the hero of the piece must be shown here; the
painter for this purpose introduces him into the apartment of a
quack, where he would not have been but for his debauchery. He makes
him meet at the same time, at this quack's, one of those women
who, being ruined themselves long since, make afterwards the ruin
of others their occupation. A quarrel is supposed to have arisen
between this woman and our hero, and the subject thereof appears
to be the bad condition, in point of health, of a young girl, from
a commerce with whom he had received an injury. This poor girl
makes here a contrast, on account of her age, her fearfulness, her
softness, with the character of the other woman, who appears a
composition of rage, madness, and of all other crimes which usually
accompany these abandoned women towards those of their own sex. The
doctor and his apartment are objects thrown in by way of episode.
Although heretofore only a barber, he is now, if you judge by the
appearance he makes, not only a surgeon, but a naturalist, a chemist,
a mechanic, a physician, and an apothecary; and to heighten the
ridicule, you see he is a Frenchman. The painter, to finish this
character according to his own idea, makes him the inventor of
machines extremely complicated for the most simple operations; as,
one to reduce a dislocated limb, and another to draw the cork out of
a bottle."


_The Fourth Picture._

"This piece is amusing by the variety of characters therein
represented. Let us begin with the principal; and this is Madam at
her toilette: a French _valet de chambre_ is putting the finishing
stroke to her dress. The painter supposes her returned from one
of those auctions of old goods, pictures, and an hundred other
things which are so common at London, and where numbers of people
of condition are duped. It is there that, for emulation, and only
not to give place to another in point of expense, a woman buys
at a great price an ugly pagod, without taste, without worth, and
which she has no sort of occasion for. It is there also that an
opportunity is found of conversing, without scandal, with people
whom you cannot see anywhere else. The things which you see on the
floor are the valuable acquisitions our heroine has just made at
one of those auctions. It is extremely fashionable at London, to
have at your house one of those melodious animals which are brought
from Italy at great expense; there appears one here, whose figure
sufficiently distinguishes him to those who have once seen one of
those unhappy victims of the rage of Italians for music. The woman
there is charmed, almost to fainting, with the ravishing voice of
this singer; but the rest of the company do not seem so sensible of
it. The country gentleman, fatigued at a stag or a fox chase, is
fallen asleep. You see there, with his hair in papers, one of those
personages who pass their whole life in endeavouring to please, but
without succeeding; and there, with a fan in his hand, you see one of
those heretics in love, a disciple of Anacreon. You see likewise, on
the couch, the lawyer who is introduced in the first picture, talking
to the lady. He appears to have taken advantage of the indifference
of the husband, and that his affairs are pretty far advanced since
the first scene. He is proposing the masquerade to his mistress, who
does not fail to accept of it. The next piece proceeds to present to
you the frightful consequences of this step."


_The Fifth Picture._

"The houses of bagnio-keepers are yet at Paris what they were
heretofore at London: but now the bath is but the accessory, the
appendix of the bagnio-keepers of this country, and excepting two
or three of their houses, the others have for the principal view of
their establishment the reception of any couple, well or ill sorted,
who are desirous of a chamber, or a bed, for an hour or a night.
The price is fixed in each house: there are some where you pay five
shillings, in others half a guinea: you enter both into one and the
other at any time with a great deal of safety, and are received there
with all the complaisance imaginable. Nothing is better furnished,
more clean, and better conducted than these houses of debauchery. The
masqueraders often make assignations at these places; and it is for
such an assignation that our heroine has accepted of the ticket which
her lover offers her in the former piece. A husband, whose wife goes
to the masquerade without him, is not without his inquietudes; it is
natural that ours here has secretly followed his wife thither, and
from thence to the bagnio, where he finds her in bed with the lawyer.
They fight;--the husband is mortally wounded: his wife, upon her
knees, is making useless protestations of her remorse. The watchmen
enter; and the lawyer, in his shirt, is getting out of the window."


_The Sixth Picture._

"We are now at the house of the Alderman. London Bridge, which is
seen through the window, shows the quarter where the people of
business live. The furniture of this house does not contribute to
its ornament;--everything shows niggardliness; and the dinner, which
is on the table, the highest frugality. You see the tobacco-pipes
set by in the corner: this, too, is a mark of great economy. Some
pictures you see, upon very low subjects, to give you to understand
by this choice that persons who, like the Alderman, pass their whole
life in thinking of nothing but enriching themselves, generally want
taste and elegance. Besides, everything here is contrasted with
what you saw at the Earl's: the pride of one, and the sordidness
of the other, are always equally ridiculous by the odd subjects of
the pictures which are there seen; but generally in the choice of
pictures, neither the analogy, taste, or agreement one with another
are consulted. The broker only is advised with, who on his part
consults only his own interest, of which he is much more capable of
being a judge than he is of painting; like a seller of old books,
who knows how to say, Here is an Elzevir Horace, or one of the
Louvre edition,--and who knows all this without being acquainted with
poetry, or capable of distinguishing an epigram from an epic poem.
There is only one difference between a bookseller and a broker: the
first has certain marks by which he knows the edition; and the other
is obliged to have recourse to inspiration, which is the only way
whereby he is able to judge infallibly, as he does, whether a picture
is an original or no. But to return to our subject. The daughter of
the Alderman, now a widow, is returned to her father. Her lover has
been taken and hanged for the murder of her husband: this she has
learned from the dying speech which is at her foot upon the floor. A
conscience disturbed and tormented with remorse is very soon driven
to despair. This woman, who by the consequence of her infidelity has
destroyed her husband, her lover, her reputation, and her quiet,
has nothing to lose but her life. This she does by taking laudanum.
She dies. An old servant in tears makes her kiss her child, the
melancholy production of an unfortunate marriage. The Alderman, more
sensible of the least acquisition than of the most tragical events,
takes, without emotion, a ring from the finger of his expiring
daughter. The apothecary is severely reprimanding the ridiculous
footman of the house who had procured the poison, the effects of
which finish the catastrophe."

Thus ends this explanation; and whether it was copied from what
Hogarth wrote, or, as is more probable, made up from verbal remarks
which he had made at different times, it does not in any material
points differ from the following description of the plates, which
was published some years before the editor saw or heard of the above
paper.


PLATE I.

        While the proud Earl of Rollo's royal race
      Points to the peers his pompous parchment grace;
      Builds all his honours on a noble name,
      And on his father's deeds depends for fame;
      The wary citizen, with heedful eye,
      Inspects what's settled on posterity;
      Pours out the pelf by rigid avarice pil'd,
      To gain an empty title for his child.
          In vain the pomp, in vain the gold,
          Love cannot thus be bought and sold;
          Such sordid motives he disdains,
          Nor can be bound in Mammon's chains.
      With cold contempt, disgust, and deadly hate,
      The new-made wife regards her tawdry mate;
      While he, Narcissus-like, with eager gaze,
      Eyes those fine features which his glass displays,
      In his own person centres all his pride,
      And as his bride loves him, he loves his bride.
        Like Satan, whispering in the ear of Eve
      (By nature form'd to ruin and deceive),
      A black-rob'd, smooth-tongued son of Belial see,
      That would betray his Saviour for a fee;
      With base, insidious smile, and tender air,
      Bend o'er the inexperienc'd, thoughtless fair,
      Assaying by his devilish art to reach
      The organs of her fancy, and to teach
      Pernicious, wicked tenets, that would taint
      The pure chaste virgin or the hallowed saint;
      Tenets of baneful, deadly, sinful dye,
      That lead to shame, remorse, and infamy.--E.

It has been observed that woman, among savages, is a beast of burden;
in the East, a piece of furniture; and in Europe, a spoiled child.
Under the last denomination we may safely class the heroine of this
history. She has all the pouting humours of a boarding-school girl.
This alliance originated in her father wishing to aggrandize his
family, and the sire of the Viscount wishing to clear his estate.
These purposes answered, the two patriarchs troubled themselves
no further. A similarity of disposition, or union of hearts, the
nobleman considered as too vulgar an idea for a man of rank; and in
the citizen's ledger of happiness there were no such items. Their
dispositions are strongly marked by the different objects which
engage their attention.

The portly nobleman, with the conscious dignity of high birth,
displays his genealogical tree, the root of which is "William Duke
of Normandy, and conqueror of England." The valour of his great
progenitor, and the various merits of the collateral branches which
dignify his pedigree, he considers as united in his own person,
and therefore looks upon an alliance with his son as the acme of
honour, the apex of exaltation. While he is thus glorying in the
dust of which his ancestors were once compounded, the prudent
citizen, who in return for it has parted with dust of a much more
weighty and useful description, paying no regard to this heraldic
blazonry, devotes all his attention to the marriage settlement. The
haughty and supercilious Peer is absorbed in the contemplation of
his illustrious ancestry, while the worshipful Alderman, regardless
of the past, and considering the present as merely preparatory for
the future, calculates what provision there will be for a young
family. Engrossed by their favourite reflections, neither of these
sagacious personages regards the want of attachment in those who are
to be united as worthy a moment's consideration. To do the Viscount
justice, he seems equally indifferent; for though evidently in
love--it is with himself. Gazing in the mirror with delight,[1] and
in an affected style displaying his gold snuff-box and glittering
ring, he is quite a husband _à la mode_. The lady, very well disposed
to retaliate, plays with her wedding-ring, and repays this chilling
coldness with sullen contempt; her heart is not worth the Viscount's
attention, and she determines to bestow it on the first suitor. An
insidious lawyer, like an evil spirit ever ready to move or second
a temptation, appears at her right hand. That he is an eloquent
pleader, is intimated by his name, Counsellor Silvertongue: that he
can make the worse appear the better cause, is only saying in other
words that _he is great in the profession_. To predict that with
such an advocate her virtue is in danger, would not be sufficiently
expressive. His captivating tones and insinuating manners would have
ensnared Lucretia.

Two dogs in a corner, coupled against their inclinations, are good
emblems of the ceremony which is to pass.[2]

The ceiling of this magnificent apartment is decorated with the
story of Pharaoh and his host drowned in the Red Sea. The ocean
on a ceiling proves a projector's taste,[3] and attention to the
costume; the sublimity of a painter is exemplified in the hero
delineated with one of the attributes of Jove. This fluttering figure
is probably intended for one of the Peer's high-born ancestors, and
is invested with the Golden Fleece and some other foreign orders.
To give him still greater dignity, he is in the character of
Jupiter; while one hand holds up an ample robe, the other grasps a
thunderbolt. A comet is taking its rapid course over his head; and in
one corner of the picture two of the family of Boreas are judiciously
blowing contrary ways. To some such supernatural cause we must
attribute the drapery and long peruke flying in opposite directions.
Immediately before him a cannon is represented in the moment of
explosion: to leave the spectator no doubt of its being intended for
serious business, and not as a mere _feu-de-joie_, the ball is seen
in its progress. All this is ridiculous enough, but not an iota more
absurd than many of the French portraits which Hogarth evidently
intended to burlesque by this parody.[4] Their painters have mistaken
extravagance for spirit, and violence for freedom. Fine as are many
of their engravings, they frequently give us lines that resemble
the flourishes of a writing-master more than the free strokes of an
artist.

In the painting which represents Goliah slain by David, the gigantic
Philistine is stretched on the earth, and, in truth, appears to
cover many a rood. Beneath is the _merciful_ Judith: one hand grasps
the sword with which she decollated Holofernes, and the other rests
upon his bleeding head. The adjoining picture exhibits a view of St.
Sebastian pierced with arrows, and that on the other side of the room
displays Prometheus and the vulture; beneath is a representation of
Cain slaying Abel. St. Lawrence upon the gridiron is placed under a
painting of Herod's cruelty. As the ornament of a chandelier, over
the sofa on which the hymeneal pair are seated, is a relievo of
Medusa's head; both this and other _agreeable_ subjects may possibly
have some covert allusions, but to me they are not obvious.

Hogarth's leading object in them all seems to be a ridicule of
those who gave these barbarous delineations a preference to his own
paintings.

The self-important consequence of the noble inhabitant of this
mansion is displayed in every part of his furniture. The coronet
glitters not only upon the canopy, but the crutches; is mounted upon
the frame of the mirror, and marked on the side of the dog.

Mr. Nichols observes, that "among such little circumstances as might
escape the notice of a careless spectator, is the thief in the
candle, emblematical of the mortgage on his lordship's estate."--As
the mortgage is now paying, one thinks the thief might have been
spared. The artist, however, might mean to intimate that his
lordship's estate was run to waste by the negligence and carelessness
of the proprietor. The same commentator properly remarks that the
unfinished edifice seems at a stand for want of money, no workman
appearing on the scaffolds, or near them; and adds, that a number of
figures which are before the building were designed for "the lazy
vermin of his lordship's hall, who, having nothing else to do, are
sitting on the blocks of stone, or staring at the building."

The characters in this print are admirably marked. Nothing can be
better contrasted than the cautious, calculating countenance of the
Alderman, and the haughty overbearing air of the Peer. To this may
be added the stare of the Serjeant, astonished at so magnificent
an edifice, and the cunning craft of the Usurer delivering up the
mortgage.

The plate was engraved by G. Scotin, and published April 1, 1745.


PLATE II.

      Behold how Vice her votary rewards,
      After a night of folly, frolic, cards,
      The phantom pleasure flies,--and in its place
      Comes deep remorse and torturing disgrace,
      Corroding care, and self-accusing shame,
      A ruin'd fortune, and a blighted fame.--E.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE II.]

Wearied, languid, and spiritless from the dissipations of the night,
with his sword broken in a riotous frolic, the modish Viscount
comes home at noon, and finds his lady just arisen, and seated _en
déshabillé_ at her matin meal. From the melancholy cast of his
countenance, and both hands being in his pockets, we may infer that
he has been unsuccessful at the gaming-table. A cap and riband,
which hang out of his coat pocket, lead us to suppose that part of
his night has been passed in the company of a female; and from the
attention a dog pays to the cap, we are led to suspect that he may
have originally belonged to the lady who is its proprietor.

The Viscountess[5] has been contemplating her face in a
pocket-mirror, and is scarcely recovered from the fatigue of a rout,
which by the cards, instruments, and music book on the floor, we
conclude to have been the preceding night's amusement.[6]

An ungartered servant, who is yawning in the background, pays little
attention to his master or mistress, and is totally regardless of a
chair, which is in great danger from the blaze of an expiring candle;
this, with those left burning in the sockets since the conclusion
of their nocturnal revelry, must give a pleasing perfume to the
breakfast-room.

The old steward's attitude and countenance clearly indicate that
he foresees the gulf into which an united torrent of dissipation
will inevitably plunge this infatuated pair. He has brought a great
number of bills for payment: to one, and only one, is a receipt,
which, being dated January 4, 1744, determines the time when vulgar
tradesmen are extremely troublesome to men of rank.

Of the paintings in this stately saloon, that of which we see only
a part is properly concealed by a curtain. The four cartoons, very
judiciously placed in the same line, are, I believe, intended for the
four evangelists. Next to that which is opposite the chandelier is a
faint representation of another picture. The lines are ambiguous, but
seem intended to represent a ship in a storm: a very proper emblem of
the wreck which is likely to succeed the negligence and dissipation
of this noble family. A marble head, in a cut wig, perhaps intended
for one of the Cæsars, with the nose broken, to show that it is a
genuine antique, decorates the centre of the chimney-piece. In most
of the other grotesque and fantastic ornaments,

      "Gay china's unsubstantial forms supply
      The place of beauty, strength, simplicity;
      Each varied colour of the brightest hue,
      The green, the red, the yellow, and the blue,
      In every part the dazzled eyes behold,
      Here streak'd with silver, there enrich'd with gold."

A painting over the chimney-piece represents Cupid playing upon the
bagpipes. Both subject and frame prove the classical taste of the
proprietor. The ornaments round a clock are equally elegant and
peculiarly appropriate. It is encompassed by a kind of grove, with a
cat on the summit and a Chinese pagoda at the bottom. If the branches
were tenanted by the feathered tribe, it would be no more than we see
every day; it would be vulgar nature. To make it uncommonly grand,
and peculiarly magnifique, they are occupied by two fishes.[7]

The crowned chandelier, candlesticks, chairs, footstool,
chimney-piece, and grate, are evidently made from the designs of
William Kent.[8] To that fashionable architect they are indebted
for the plan of the stupendous saloon, which has an air of grandeur
and magnificence that is not often seen in Mr. Hogarth's works. It
produces such a sensation as Pope describes on seeing Timon's villa,
"Where all cry out, what sums are thrown away!"

This plate was engraved by Baron, but the old steward's face is, I
think, marked by the burin of Hogarth.


PLATE III.

      "To Galen's great descendant list,--oh list!
      Behold a surgeon, sage, anatomist,
      Mechanic, antiquarian, seer, collector,
      Physician, barber, bone-setter, dissector.
      The sextons, registers, and tombstones tell,
      By his prescriptions, what an army fell;
      Med'cines--by him compos'd will stop the breath,
      And every pill is fraught with certain death."[9]--E.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE III.]

This has been said to be the most obscure delineation that Hogarth
ever published: how far the short explanation copied from Mr. Lane's
papers may contribute to sanction my previous description, I do not
presume to judge. Hitherto there have certainly been many different
opinions as to the meaning of this print, and Churchill is said to
have asserted, that from its appearing so ambiguous to him, he once
requested Hogarth to explain it, but that the artist, like many other
commentators, left his subject as obscure as he found it. "From this
circumstance," added the poet, "I am convinced he formed his tale
upon the ideas of Hoadley, Garrick, Townley, or some other friend,
and never perfectly comprehended what it meant."

How it was possible for Hoadley, Garrick, and Townley, or any other
friend, to furnish Hogarth with ideas to compose the third plate of
an historical series, I cannot comprehend.

I can suppose it possible that the artist might not choose to
explain to Churchill what he himself thought obvious, and therefore
declined giving him any explanation. I can suppose that, admirably
as Hogarth told a story with his pencil, he might not be qualified
to express his verbal meaning with equal accuracy, and therefore be
misunderstood; but, above all, I can suppose it not only possible,
but probable, that this bitter satirist, making the declaration
_after_ the publication of "Wilkes' Portrait," "The Bruiser," and
"The Times," might, from resentment to the artist, be provoked to
give a poetical colouring to the story about the "Marriage à la Mode."

I think it must be considered as a sort of episode, no further
connected with the main subject than as it exhibits the consequences
of an alliance entered into from sordid and unworthy motives. In
the two preceding prints the hero and heroine of this tragedy show
a fashionable indifference towards each other. On the part of
the Viscount, we see no indication of any wish to conciliate the
affections of his lady. Careless of her conduct, and negligent of
her fame, he leaves her to superintend the musical dissipations
of his house, and lays the scene of his own licentious amusements
abroad. The female heart is naturally susceptible, and much
influenced by first impressions. Formed for love, and gratefully
attached by delicate attentions; but chilled by neglect, and frozen
by coldness,--by contempt it is estranged, and by habitual and
long-continued inconstancy sometimes lost.

To show that our unfortunate victim to parental ambition has
suffered this mortifying climax of provocation, the artist has made
a digression, and exhibited her profligate husband attending a quack
doctor. In the last plate he appears to have dissipated his fortune;
in this he has injured his health. From the hour of marriage he has
neglected the woman to whom he plighted his troth. Can we wonder at
her conduct? By the Viscount she was despised; by the Counsellor
adored. This insidious, insinuating villain, we may naturally suppose
acquainted with every part of the nobleman's conduct, and artful
enough to make a proper advantage of his knowledge. From such an
agent the Countess would probably learn how her lord was connected:
from his subtle suggestions, being aided by resentment, she is
tempted to think that these accumulated insults have dissolved the
marriage vow, and given her a right to retaliate. Thus impelled,
thus irritated, and attended by such an advocate, can we wonder
that this fair unfortunate deserted from the standard of honour,
and sought refuge in the camp of infamy? To her husband many of her
errors must be attributed. She saw he despised her, and therefore
hated him; found that he had bestowed his affections on another, and
followed his example. To show the consequence of his unrestrained
wanderings, the author, in this plate, exhibits his hero in the
house of one of those needy empirics who play upon public credulity,
and vend poisons under the name of drugs. This quack being family
surgeon to the old procuress who stands at his right hand, formerly
attended the young girl, and received his fee as having recovered
his patient. That he was paid for what he did not perform, appears
by the countenance of the enraged nobleman, who lifts up his cane
in a threatening style, accompanying the action with a promise to
bastinado both surgeon and procuress for having deceived him by a
false bill of health. These menaces our natural son of Æsculapius
treats with that careless nonchalance which shows that his ears are
accustomed to such sounds; but the haggard high priestess of the
temple of Venus,[10] tenacious of her good name, and tremblingly
alive to any aspersion which may tend to injure her professional
reputation, unclasps her knife, determined to wash out this foul
stain upon her honour with the blood of her accuser.

The nick-nackitory collection that forms this motley museum is
exactly described by Doctor Garth; one would almost think Hogarth
made the dispensary his model in designing the print.

      "Here mummies lie, most reverently stale,
      And there, the tortoise hung her coat of mail:
      Not far from some huge shark's devouring head,
      The flying fish their finny pinions spread;
      Aloft, in rows, large poppy-heads were strung,
      And near, a scaly alligator hung:
      In this place, drugs in musty heaps decay'd,
      In that, dry'd bladders and drawn teeth were laid."

An horn of the sea unicorn is so placed as to give the idea of a
barber's pole; this, with the pewter basin and broken comb, clearly
indicate the former profession of our mock doctor. The high-crowned
hat and antique spur, which might once have been the property of
Butler's redoubted knight, the valiant Hudibras, with a model of
the gallows, and sundry nondescript rarities, show us that this
great man, if not already a member of the Antiquarian Society, is
qualifying himself to be a candidate. The dried body[11] in the
glass-case, placed between a skeleton and the sage's wig-block,
form a trio that might serve as the symbol of a consultation of
physicians. A figure above the mummies seems at first sight to be
decorated with a flowing periwig, but on a close inspection will be
found intended for one of Sir John Mandeville's _anthropophagi_, a
sort of men "whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders." Even the
skulls have character; and the principal mummy has so majestic an
aspect, that one is almost tempted to believe it the mighty Cheops,
king of Egypt, whose body was certainly to be known, being the only
one entombed in the large pyramid.[12]

By two machines, constructed upon the most complicated principles,
though intended for performing very simple operations, we discover
that our quack studies mechanics. On one of them lies a folio
treatise descriptive of their uses; by which we are informed that the
largest is to reduce a dislocated limb, the smallest is to draw a
cork!--each of them invented by Monsieur De la Pilulæ, and inspected
and approved by the Royal Academy of Paris.


PLATE IV.

      The new-made Countess treads enchanted ground,
      And madly whirls in pleasure's airy round;
      From Circe's cup delicious poison quaffs,
      And, drunk with pomp, at cold discretion laughs.
      While the soft warbling of a senseless song,
      Pour'd from a neutral nothing,[13] charms the throng;
      To love's fond tale the fair her ear inclines,
      To Satan's agent all her soul resigns.
          Beware his soft insidious smiles,
        Fly from his glance, and shun his wiles;
        Avoid the serpent's poisonous breath,
        'Tis fraught with infamy and death.--E.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE IV.]

By the old Peer's death our fair heroine has attained the summit of
her wishes, and become a Countess. Intoxicated by this elevation,
and vain of her new dignity, she ranges through the whole circle
of frivolous amusements, and treads every maze of fashionable
dissipation. Her excesses are rendered still more criminal by the
consequent neglect of domestic duties; for, by the coral on the
back of her chair, we are led to suppose that she is a mother. Her
morning levee is crowded with persons of rank, and attended by her
paramour, and that contemptible shadow of man, an Italian singer,
with whose dulcet notes two of our right honourable group seem in
the highest degree enraptured. This bloated animal, carelessly and
consequentially leaning back in his chair, is dressed in a richly
embroidered coat, and every finger is loaded with a diamond. Though
in a morning, his solitaire, kneebands, and shoes are decorated with
gems.[14] He is quavering,

      "The seeming echo of what once was song,
      Sweet by defect, and impotently strong."

That our extravagant Countess purchased the pipe of this expensive
exotic in mere compliance to the fashion of the day, without any real
taste for his mellifluous warblings, is intimated by the absorbed
attention which she pays to the Advocate, who, with the luxuriant
indolent grace of an Eastern effendi, is lolling on a sofa at her
right hand. By his pointing to the folding screen, on which is
delineated a masquerade revel,[15] at the same time that he shows his
infatuated _inamorato_ a ticket of admission, we see that they
are making an assignation for the evening. The fatal consequences of
their unfortunate meeting is displayed in the two succeeding plates.
A Swiss servant, who is dressing her hair, has all the grimace of his
country; he is the complete Canton of the _Clandestine Marriage_.
The contemptuous leer of a black footman, serving chocolate, is
evidently directed to the singer, and forms an admirable contrast to
the die-away lady seated before him,[16] who, lost to every sense but
that of hearing, is exalted to the third heaven by the enchanting
song of this pampered Italian. On the country gentleman,[17] with a
whip in his hand, it has quite a different effect; with the echoing
"Tally ho!" he would be exhilarated; by the soft sounds of Italia,
his soul is lulled to rest. The _fine feeling_ creature, with a fan
suspended from _its_ wrist, is marked with that foolish face of
praise which understands nothing, but admires everything that it is
the _ton_ to admire! The taper supporters of Monsieur _en papillote_
are admirably opposed to the lumbering pedestals of our mummy of
music. The figure behind him[18] blows a flute with every muscle of
his face. A little black boy in the opposite corner, examining a
collection of grotesque china ornaments which have been purchased
at the sale of Esquire Timothy Babyhouse, pays great attention to
a figure of Acteon, and with a very significant leer points to his
horns. Under a delineation of Jupiter and Leda, on a china dish, is
written, "Julio Romano!" The fantastic group of hydras, gorgons, and
chimeras dire, which lie near it, are an admirable specimen of the
absurd and shapeless monsters which disgraced our drawing-rooms until
the introduction of Etrurian ornaments. By the fantastic decorations
upon a chimney-piece in the second plate, we saw that our fashionable
pair had a taste, and this taste may have been one source of their
embarrassments. Another of their follies which, when gaming is united
to it, will level their lofty forests and lay their proudest mansions
in the dust, is displayed in the cards of invitation scattered on
the floor. They afford a good specimen of polite literature, and the
writers deserve a niche in the catalogue of royal and noble authors.
The list follows:--

"Count Basset desire to no how Lady Squander sleep last nite."

"Lord Squander's company is desired at Lady Townley's drum. Monday
next."

"Lady Squander's company is desired at Miss Hairbrain's rout."

"Lady Squander's company is desired at Lady Heathen's drum-major.
Sunday next."

The pictures in this dressing-room are well suited to the profligate
proprietor, and may be further intended as a burlesque on the
strange and grossly indelicate subjects so frequently painted by
ancient masters: Lot and his daughters; Ganymede and the Eagle;[19]
Jupiter and Io; and a portrait of the young Lawyer, who is the
favourite--the _cicisbeo_--or more properly, the seducer of the
Countess.

This print was engraved by Ravenet, who has preserved the characters.


PLATE V.

      Her dream of dissipation o'er,
      The bubble pleasure charms no more;
      The spell dissolv'd--broken the chain,
      Reason too late resumes her reign.--
      In vain the tear and contrite sigh,
      In vain the poignant agony.--
        Henceforth--thy portion is despair,
      Remorse, and deep corroding care;
      Misery!--to madness near allied,
      And ignominious suicide,
      Thy minion's meed, by law's decree,
      Is death--a death of infamy!--E.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE V.]

Our exasperated Peer, suspecting his wife's infidelity, follows her
in disguise to the masquerade, and from thence traces these two
votaries of vice to a bagnio. Finding they are retired to a bedroom,
he bursts open the door, and attacks the spoiler of his honour with
a drawn sword. Too much irritated to be prudent, and too violent to
be cautious, he thinks only of revenge; and, making a furious thrust
at the Counsellor, neglects his own guard, and is mortally wounded.
The miscreant who had basely destroyed his peace and deprived him of
life is not bold enough to meet the consequences. Destitute of that
courage which is the companion of virtue, and possessing no spark of
that honour which ought to distinguish the gentleman; dreading the
avenging hand of offended justice, he makes a mean and precipitate
retreat. Leaving him to the fate which awaits him, let us return to
the deluded Countess. Feeling some pangs from a recollection of her
former conduct, some touches of shame at her detection, and a degree
of horror at the fate of her husband, she kneels at his feet, and
entreats forgiveness.

      "Some contrite tears she shed."

There is reason to fear that they flow from regret at the detection
rather than remorse for the crime; a woman vitiated in the vortex
of dissipation is not likely to feel that ingenuous shame which
accompanies a good mind torn by the consciousness of having deviated
from the path of virtue.

Alarmed at the noise occasioned by this fatal _rencontre_, the
inmates of the brothel called a watchman: accompanied by a constable,
this nocturnal guardian is ushered into the room by the master
of the house, whose meagre and trembling figure is well opposed to
the consequential magistrate of the night. The watchman's lantern we
see over their heads, but the bearer knows his duty is to follow his
superiors; conscious that though the front may be a post of honour,
yet in a service of danger the rear is a station of safety.

Immediately over the door is a picture of St. Luke; this venerable
apostle being a painter, is so delineated that he seems looking at
the scene now passing, and either making a sketch or a record of the
transaction. On the hangings is a lively representation of Solomon's
wise judgment.[20] The countenance of the sapient monarch is not
sagacious, but his attitude is in an eminent degree dignified,
and his air commanding and regal. He really looks like a tyrant in
old tapestry; and the arm of a chair is ornamented by a carving
fraught with that terrific grace peculiar to the ancient masters. We
cannot say that the Hebrew women who attend for judgment are either
comely or fair to look upon. Were not the scene laid in Jerusalem,
they might pass for two of the silver-toned Naiades of our own
Billingsgate.

        The grisly guards, with faces all awry,
      Like Herod's hang-dogs in old tapestry:
      Each man an Askapart, with strength to toss
      For quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-cross.

The grisly guards have a most rueful and tremendous appearance. The
attractive portrait of a Drury Lane Diana,[21] with a butcher's
steel in one hand and a squirrel perched on the other, is hung in
such a situation that the Herculean pedestals of a Jewish soldier may
be supposed to be a delineation of her legs continued below the frame.

Our Counsellor's mask lies on the floor, and grins horribly, as if
conscious of the fatal catastrophe. Dominoes, shoes, etc., scattered
around the room, show the negligence of the ill-fated Countess,
unattended by her _femme de chambre_. From a faggot and the shadow of
a pair of tongs, we may infer that there is a fire in the room.[22] A
bill near them implies that this elegant apartment is at the Turk's
Head bagnio.

The dying agony of the Earl (whose face is evidently retouched
by Hogarth), the eager entreaty of the Countess, the terror of
mine host, and the vulgar inflected dignity of Mr. Constable, are
admirably discriminated.

I have stated in the former editions that the background of this
plate was engraved by Ravenet's wife, but am since informed by Mr.
Charles Grignion, the engraver, that this is a mistake. See vol. iii.
of this work.


PLATE VI.

        Forlorn, degraded, and distrest,
        The furies tear her tortur'd breast.
        Remorse, with agonizing sigh,
        And sullen shame with downcast eye;
        Anguish,--by cold reflection fed,
        And wan despair, and trembling dread,
        In guise terrific hover round,
        And ring the knell of thrilling sound.
        Scar'd Reason totters on her throne,
        And Hope is fled!--and Peace is gone.
      Shuddering at phantoms ever in her sight,
      Hating the garish sun, and trembling at the night;
      To poison,--sad resort! she frantic flies,
      And, self-destroy'd, the wretched Countess dies!--E.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE A LA MODE. PLATE VI.]

The last sad scene of our unfortunate heroine's life is in the house
of her father, to which she had returned after her husband's death.
The law could not consider her as the primary cause of his murder;
but consciousness of her own guilt was more severe punishment than
that could have inflicted. This, added to her father's reproaches,
and the taunts of those who were once her friends, renders society
hateful, and solitude insupportable. Wounded in every feeling,
tortured in every nerve, and seeing no prospect of a period to her
misery, she takes the horrid resolution of ending all her calamities
by poison.

        "Dreadful deed, unbidden thus
      To rush into the presence of her Judge,
      And challenge vengeance. 'Tis said
      Unheard-of tortures are reserved
      For murderers of themselves. They herd together:
      The common damn'd shun their society,
      As fiends too foul for converse."

Dreadful as is this resolve, she puts it in execution by bribing the
servant of her father to procure her a dose of laudanum. Close to
the vial, which lies on the floor, Hogarth has judiciously placed
Counsellor Silvertongue's last dying speech, thus intimating that he
also has suffered the punishment he justly merited.[23] The records
of their fate being thus situated, seems to imply, that as they
were united in vice, they are companions in the consequences. These
two terrific and monitory testimonies are a kind of propitiatory
sacrifice to the manes of her injured and murdered lord.

Her avaricious father, seeing his daughter at the point of death,
and knowing the value of her diamond ring, determined to secure
this glittering gem from the depredations of the old nurse, coolly
draws it from her finger. This little circumstance shows a prominent
feature of his mind. Every sense of feeling absorbed in extreme
avarice, he seems at this moment calculating how many carats the
brilliants weigh.

From a gown hung up near the clock we know him to be an alderman;
and from his sleek appearance, we have some right to infer that
he is constant in his attendance at city feasts, for so comely a
countenance could never be supported by the scanty and meagre viands
of his own table. His domestic care is intimated by the gaunt and
hungry appearance of a dog, who, taking advantage of this general
confusion, seizes the brawn's head.[24]

A rickety child, heir to the complaints of its father, shows some
tenderness for its expiring mother; and the grievous whine of an old
nurse is most admirably described. These are the only two of the
party who exhibit any marks of sorrow for the death of our wretched
Countess. The smug apothecary, indeed, displays some symptoms of
vexation at his patient dying before she has taken his julap, the
label of which hangs out of his pocket. Her constitution, though
impaired by grief, promised to have lasted long enough for him to
have marked many additional dittos in his day-book. Pointing to the
dying speech, he threatens the terrified footboy with a punishment
similar to that of the Counsellor for having bought the laudanum. The
fellow protests his innocence, and promises never more to be guilty
of a like offence. The effects of fear on an ignorant rustic cannot
be better delineated; nor is it easy to conceive a more ludicrous
figure than this awkward retainer, dressed in an old full-trimmed
coat, which in its better days had been the property of his master.
By the physician retreating, we are led to conceive that, finding
his patient had dared to quit the world in an irregular way, neither
abiding by his prescriptions nor waiting for his permission, he cast
an indignant frown on all present, and exclaimed in style heroic,

      "'Fellow, our hat!'--no more he deign'd to say,
      But stern as Ajax' spectre, stalk'd away."

The leathern buckets immediately over the Doctor's head were,
previous to the introduction of fire-engines, considered as proper
furniture for a merchant's hall. Every ornament in his parlour is
highly and exactly appropriate to the man. The style of his pictures,
his clock, a cobweb over the window, repaired chair, nay, the very
form of his hat, are characteristic. A silver cup upon the table, and
jug on the floor, show us his style of living. The scantiness of his
own table is well contrasted by the plenty exhibited in the picture
over the old nurse's head, where iron pots, brass pans, cabbages,
and lanterns, are indiscriminately huddled together, with no other
meaning than to show how highly a Flemish artist could _finish_. The
_attic_ delicacy of this patient and laborious school is displayed in
the adjoining picture; and their humour, in that of a fellow wittily
lighting his tobacco-pipe by the red nose of his companion.[25]
The pipe and bottle placed under the day-book and ledger, and the
whole crowned by a broken punch-bowl, intimate that this venerable
gentleman united business with pleasure. The view through an open
window marks the situation of our plodding merchant's house to be
near London Bridge, and represents that absurd and ill-contrived
structure in its original state, loaded with houses. A clock points
the hour to be a little after eleven, which at this highly polished
and refined period would be deemed an early hour for a citizen's
breakfast; at that, it was his hour of dinner!

Thus has our moral dramatist concluded his tragedy, and brought his
heroine from dissipation and vice to misery and shame, terminating
her existence by suicide!

The drama of Shakspeare has been said to be the mirror of life, which
to-day we see lighted up with gaiety, and to-morrow clouded with
sorrow. Shakspeare had the power of exciting laughter or grief, not
only in one mind, but in one composition. That Hogarth had the same
power, and exerted it with the same disdain of the little cavils of
little minds, is evinced in this series of prints; from the study
of which, a peasant, who has never strayed beyond the precincts of
his own cottage, may calculate the consequences of dissipation; and
he who has lived secluded from society, may form an estimate of the
value of riches and high birth when abused by prodigality or degraded
by vice.

In the year 1746 was published a coarse and vulgar poem, in doggerel
verse, with the following title: "_Marriage à la Mode_, an humorous
tale in six cantos, in Hudibrastic verse, being an Explanation of the
six Prints lately published by the ingenious Mr. Hogarth. London,
printed for Weaver Bickerton, in Temple Exchange Passage, Fleet
Street. Price One Shilling."

The _Clandestine Marriage_ is professedly formed upon the model of
these prints.



THE FOUR STAGES OF CRUELTY.

      "The poorest beetle that we tread upon,
      In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great
      As when a giant dies."


This pathetic lesson of humanity is given by the poet of nature.
Aiming at the same end by different means, our benevolent artist here
steps forth as the instructor of youth, the friend to mercy, and
advocate of the brute creation.

In the prints before us, an obdurate boy begins his career of cruelty
by tormenting animals; repeated acts of barbarity sear his heart, he
commits a deliberate murder, and concludes in an ignominious death.
These gradations are natural, I had almost said inevitable; and that
parent who discovers the germ of barbarity in the mind of a child,
and does not use every effort to exterminate the noxious weed, is an
accessory to the evils which spring from its baneful growth. To check
these malign propensities becomes more necessary from the general
tendency of our amusements. Most of our rural and even infantine
sports are savage and ferocious. They arise from the terror, misery,
or death of helpless animals. A child in the nursery is taught to
impale butterflies and cockchafers. The schoolboy's proud delight is
clambering a tree

      "To rob the poor bird of its young."

Grown a _gentle_ angler, he snares the scaly fry, and scatters leaden
death among the feathered tenants of the air. Ripened to man, he
becomes a mighty hunter, is enamoured of the chase, and crimsons his
spurs in the sides of a generous courser, whose wind he breaks in the
pursuit of an inoffensive deer or timid hare.

Many of our town diversions have the same tendency. The bird, whose
melodious warblings echo through the grove, is imprisoned in a
sort of a _Bastille_, where, like an unplumed biped in a similar
situation, it frequently perishes through anguish or want of food.
The high-crested chanticleer, whose courage is innate, and only
vanquished by death, is furnished with weapons of pointed steel,
when, set in opposition to one of the same species, armed in a
similar style, these two champions, for the diversion of the _humane_
lords of the creation, lacerate each other until one or both of them
are slain.

The faithful dog, whose attachment and gratitude are exemplary, and
worthy the imitation of man, when in the possession of a farmer, or
country 'squire, is well fed, and has no great cause of complaint,
except his ears and tail being lopped to _improve nature_, and
having a rib now and then broken by a gentle spurn; but if the
poor quadruped falls into the hands of a tanner, a surgeon, or an
_experimental_ philosopher, of what avail are his good qualities?[26]

The Abyssinian cruelties of our slaughter-houses[27] and kitchens[28]
I do not wish to enumerate. The catalogue would fill a volume.
Humanity demands that the brute creation should be protected by the
Legislature.

The Mosaic Law, to guard against tortures being inflicted on animals
which were slaughtered for sustenance, ordained them to die by a
highly polished and pointed instrument; if the bone was pierced, or
the beast mangled, it was deemed unclean, and burnt.


FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY.

      "While various scenes of sportive woe
        The infant race employ;
      And tortur'd victims bleeding, show
        The tyrant in the boy.

      "Behold a youth of gentler heart!
        To spare the creature's pain,
      O take, he cries--take all my tart,
        But tears and tart are vain.

      "Learn from this fair example, you
        Who savage sports delight,
      How cruelty disgusts the view,
        While pity charms the sight."

[Illustration: FIRST STAGE OF CRUELTY.]

Let us suppose a disciple of Pythagoras to contemplate this print,
how would it affect him? He would imagine it to represent a group
of young barbarians qualifying themselves for executioners; would
raise his voice to Heaven, and thank the God of mercy that he is not
an inhabitant of such a country; would lament that these degenerate
little beings should not have been informed that the animals on
whom they are now inflicting such tortures, might, previous to
transmigration, have been their fathers, brothers, friends.

The delineation of such scenes must shock every feeling heart,
and their enumeration disgust every humane mind. I hope, for the
honour of our nature and our nation, that they are not so frequently
practised as when these prints were published.

The hero of this tragic tale is Tom Nero: by a badge upon his arm,
we know him to be one of the boys of St. Giles' Charity School. The
horrible business in which he is engaged was, I hope and believe,
never realized in this or any other country. The thought is taken
from Callot's "Temptation of St. Anthony." A youth of superior rank,
shocked at such cruelty, offers his tart to redeem the dog from
torture. This Hogarth intended for the portrait of an illustrious
personage, then about thirteen years of age; the compliment was
rather coarse, but well intended. A lad chalking on a wall the
suspended figure, inscribed TOM NERO, prepares us for the future fate
of this young tyrant, and shows by anticipation the reward of cruelty.

Throwing at cocks might possibly have its origin in what some of our
sagacious politicians call a natural enmity to France, which is thus
_humanely_ exercised against the allegorical symbol of that nation.
A boy tying a bone to the tail of his dog, while the kind-hearted
animal licks his hand, must have a most diabolical disposition.[29]
Two little imps are burning out the eyes of a bird with a
knitting-needle. A group of embryotic Domitians, who have tied two
cats to the extremities of a rope and hung it over a lamp-iron, to
see how _delightfully_ they will tear each other, are marked with
grim delight. The link-boy is absolutely a Lilliputian fiend. The
fellow encouraging a dog to worry a cat, and two animals of the same
species thrown out of a garret window with bladders fastened to them,
completes this mortifying prospect of youthful depravity.


SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY.

      "The generous steed in hoary age,
        Subdued by labour lies,
      And mourns a cruel master's rage,
        While nature strength denies.

      "The tender lamb, o'er-drove and faint,
        Amidst expiring throes,
      Bleats forth its innocent complaint,
        And dies beneath the blows.

      "Inhuman wretch! Say, whence proceeds
        This coward cruelty?
      What interest springs from barbarous deeds?
        What joy from misery?"


      If, as the Samian taught, the soul revives,
      And shifting seats, in other bodies lives,
      Severe shall be the brutal coachman's change,
      Doom'd in a hackney horse the town to range;
      Carmen, transform'd, the groaning load shall draw,
      Whom other tyrants with the lash shall awe!

[Illustration: SECOND STAGE OF CRUELTY.]

Tom Nero is now a hackney coachman, and displaying his disposition
in his conduct to a horse. Worn out by ill-usage, and exhausted by
fatigue, the poor animal has fallen down, overset the carriage, and
broken his leg. The scene is laid at Thavie's Inn gate:[30] four
brethren of the brawling bar, who have joined to pay threepence each
for a ride to Westminster Hall, are in consequence of the accident
overturned, and exhibited at the moment of creeping out of the
carriage. These ludicrous periwig-pated personages were probably
intended as portraits of advocates eminent in their day; their names
I am not able to record.

A man taking the number of the coach is marked with traits of
benevolence, which separate him from the savage ferocity of Nero or
the guilty terror of these affrighted lawyers.

As a further exemplification of extreme barbarity, a drover is
beating an expiring lamb with a large club. The wheels of a dray
pass over an unfortunate boy, while the drayman, regardless of
consequences, sleeps on the shafts.[31]

In the background is a poor overladen ass: the master, presuming on
the strength of this patient and ill-treated animal, has mounted
upon his back, and taken a loaded porter behind him. An over-driven
bull, followed by a crowd of heroic spirits, has tossed a boy.[32]
Two bills pasted on the wall advertise cock-fighting and Broughton's
Amphitheatre[33] for boxing, as further specimens of national
civilisation.

Parts of this print may at first sight appear rather overcharged,
but some recent examples convince us that they are not so. In the
year 1790, a fellow was convicted of lacerating and tearing out the
tongue of a horse; but there being no evidence of his bearing any
malice towards the proprietor, or doing it with a view of injuring
_him_, this diabolical wretch, not having violated any then existing
statute, was discharged without punishment.


CRUELTY IN PERFECTION.

      "To lawless love, when once betray'd,
        Soon crime to crime succeeds;
      At length beguil'd to theft, the maid
        By her beguiler bleeds.

      "Yet learn, seducing men, not night,
        With all its sable cloud,
      Can screen the guilty deed from sight:
        Foul murder cries aloud!

      "The gaping wounds, the blood-stain'd steel,
        Now shock his trembling soul;
      But ah! what pangs his breast must feel
        When death his knell shall toll!"

[Illustration: CRUELTY IN PERFECTION.]


An early indulged habit of wanton cruelty strengthens by time,
chokes every good disposition, corrupts the mind, and sears the
heart. We cannot say to the malevolent passions,

      "Thus far shall ye go, and no further."

The hero of this print began by torturing a helpless dog; he then
beat out the eye of an unoffending horse; and now, under the
influence of that malignant rancorous spirit, which by indulgence
is become natural, he commits murder--most foul and aggravated
murder!--for this poor deluded girl is pregnant by the wretch who
deprives her of life. He tempts her to quit a happy situation; to
plunder an indulgent mistress, and meet him with the produce of her
robbery. Blinded by affection, she keeps the fatal appointment, and
comes loaded with plate. This remorseless villain, having previously
determined to destroy her, and by that means cancel his promise of
marriage, free himself from an expected encumbrance, and silence one
whom compunction might at a future day induce to confess the crime
and lead to his detection, puts her to death!

This atrocious act must have been perpetrated with most savage
barbarity, for the head is nearly severed, and the wrist cut almost
through. Her cries are heard by the servants of a neighbouring house,
who run to her assistance. 'Tis too late. The horrid deed is done!
The ethereal spirit is forced from its earthly mansion,

      "Unhousell'd, unappointed, unaneal'd!"

but the murderer, appalled by conscious guilt, and rendered
motionless by terror, cannot fly. He is seized without resistance,
and consigned to that punishment which so aggravated a violation of
the laws of nature and his country demand.

The glimpses of the moon, the screech-owl and bat hovering in the
air, the mangled corpse, and above all, the murderer's ghastly and
guilty countenance, give terrific horror to this awful scene.[34]

By the pistol in his pocket and watches on the ground, we have
reason to infer that this callous wretch has been committing other
depredations in the earlier part of the evening. The time is what has
been emphatically called "the witching hour!"--the iron tongue of
midnight has told ONE!

The letter found in his pocket gives a history of the transaction; it
appears to be dictated by the warmest affection, and written by the
woman he has just murdered, previous to her elopement:--

  "DEAR TOMMY,--My mistress has been the best of women to me, and
  my conscience flies in my face as often as I think of wronging
  her; yet I am resolved to venture body and soul to do as you
  would have me; so do not fail to meet me as you said you would,
  for I shall bring along with me all the things I can lay my hands
  on. So no more at present; but I remain yours till death.

  "ANN GILL."

This is the simple effusion of a too credulous heart; whatever would
lessen the solemnity of the scene is carefully avoided; neither bad
spelling, nor any other ridiculous circumstances that might create
laughter are introduced.


THE REWARD OF CRUELTY.

      "Behold, the villain's dire disgrace,
        Not death itself can end;
      He finds no peaceful burial-place,
        His breathless corpse--no friend.

      "Torn from the root that wicked tongue,
        Which daily swore and curst;
        Those eye-balls from their sockets wrung,
      That glow'd with lawless lust.

      "His heart exposed to prying eyes,
        To pity has no claim;
      But dreadful! from his bones shall rise
        His monument of shame."

[Illustration: THE REWARD OF CRUELTY.]

The savage and diabolical progress of cruelty is now ended, and the
thread of life severed by the sword of justice. From the place
of execution the murderer is brought to Surgeons' Hall, and now
represented under the knife of a dissector. This venerable person, as
well as his coadjutor, who scoops out the criminal's eye, and a young
student scarifying the leg, seem to have just as much feeling as the
subject now under their inspection.[35] A frequent contemplation
of sanguinary scenes hardens the heart, deadens sensibility, and
destroys every tender sensation.

Our legislators, considering how unfit such men are to determine in
cases of life and death, have judiciously excluded both surgeons and
butchers from serving upon juries.

Hogarth was most peculiarly accurate in those little markings which
identify. The gunpowder initials T. N. on the arm, denote this to
be the body of Thomas Nero. The face being impressed with horror
has been objected to. It must be acknowledged that this is rather
"o'er-stepping the modesty of nature;" but he so rarely deviates from
her laws, that a little poetical licence may be forgiven where it
produces humour or heightens character.

The skeletons on each side of the print are inscribed "James
Field" (an eminent pugilist), and "Maclean" (a notorious robber).
Both of these worthies died by a rope. They are pointing to
the physician's crest which is carved on the upper part of the
president's[36] chair, viz. a hand feeling a pulse; taking a guinea
would have been more appropriate to the practice. The heads of
these two heroes of the halter are turned so as to seem ridiculing
the president, "Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp."
Every countenance in this grisly band is marked with that medical
importance which dignifies the professors. Some of them we discover
to be "from Caledonia's bleak and barren clime."

A fellow depositing the intestines in a pail, and a dog licking the
murderer's heart, are disgusting and nauseous objects. The vessel
where the skulls and bones bubble-bubble, gives some idea of the
infernal caldron of Hecate.

Of this print, and that preceding it, there are wooden blocks
engraved upon a large scale, invented and published by "William
Hogarth, Jan. 1, 1750; J. Bell, sculpt." They were executed by order
of Mr. Hogarth, who wished to circulate the salutary examples they
contain, by making the price low enough for a poor man's purse; but
finding engraving on wood much more expensive than he had calculated,
he altered his plan, and engraved them on copper.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



BEER STREET AND GIN LANE.

  "The nature and use of aliments maketh men either chaste or
  incontinent; either courageous or cowardly; either meek or
  quarrelsome: let those who deny these truths come to me; let them
  follow my counsel in eating and drinking, and I promise them they
  will find great helps thereupon towards moral philosophy. They
  will acquire more prudence, more diligence, more memory."--GALEN.


Fully impressed with the truth of this axiom, Mr. Hogarth engraved
the two following prints, in which he has considered porter as
the liquor natural to an English constitution; and that villanous
distillation, gin, as pernicious and poisonous. While that noble
beverage properly termed British Burgundy[37] refreshes the weary,
exhilarates the faint, and cheers the depressed, an infernal
compound of juniper and fiery spirits debases the mind, destroys the
constitution, and brings its thirsty votaries to an untimely grave.

These, as well as the four preceding prints, are calculated for the
lower orders of society, and exhibit such a contrast as must strike
the most careless observer. In the first, we see healthy and happy
beings inhaling copious draughts of a liquor which seems perfectly
congenial to their mental and corporeal powers; in the second, a
group of emaciated wretches who, by swallowing liquid fire, have
consumed both.


BEER STREET.

      "Beer, happy product of our isle,
        Can sinewy strength impart;
      And wearied with fatigue and toil,
        Can cheer each manly heart.

      "Labour and art, upheld by thee,
        Successfully advance;
      We quaff the balmy juice with glee,
        And water leave to France.

      "Genius of health, thy grateful taste
        Rivals the cup of Jove;
      And warms each English, generous breast,
        With liberty and love."

[Illustration: BEER STREET.]

This admirable delineation is a picture of John Bull in his most
happy moments. In the left corner, a butcher and a blacksmith are
each of them grasping a foaming tankard of porter. By the _King's
Speech_ and the _Daily Advertiser_ upon the table before them,
they appear to have been studying politics, and settling the state
of the nation. The blacksmith having just purchased a shoulder of
mutton, is triumphantly waving it in the air. Next to him a drayman
is whispering soft sentences of love to a servant-maid, round whose
neck is one of his arms; in the other hand a pot of porter. Two
fish-women, furnished with a flagon of the same liquor, are chaunting
a song of Mr. Lockman's[38] on the British Herring Fishery. A porter
having put a load of waste-paper[39] on the ground, is eagerly
quaffing this best of barley wine.

On the front of a house in ruins, is inscribed "Pinch, pawnbroker,"
and through a hole in the door a boy delivers a full half-pint.
In the background are two chairmen.[40] They have joined for
threepenny-worth to recruit their spirits, and repair the fatigue
they have undergone in _trotting between two poles_ with a ponderous
load of female frailty. Two paviors are washing away their cares
with a heart-cheering cup. In a garret window a trio of sailors are
employed in the same way; and on a house-top are four bricklayers
equally joyous. Each of these groups seem hale, happy, and well
clothed; but the artist, who is painting a glass bottle from an
original which hangs before him, is in a truly deplorable plight,
at the same time that he carries in his countenance a perfect
consciousness of his talents in this creative art.[41]


GIN LANE.

      "Gin, cursed fiend! with fury fraught,
        Makes human race a prey;
      It enters by a deadly draught,
        And steals our life away.

      "Virtue and Truth, driv'n to despair,
        Its rage compels to fly;
      But cherishes with hellish care,
        Theft, murder, perjury.

      "Damn'd cup! that on the vitals preys,
        That liquid fire contains;
      Which madness to the heart conveys,
        And rolls it thro' the veins."

[Illustration: GIN LANE.]

From contemplating the health, happiness, and mirth flowing from
a moderate use of a wholesome and natural beverage, we turn to
this nauseous contrast, which displays human nature in its most
degraded and disgusting state. The retailer of gin and ballads,[42]
who sits upon the steps with a bottle in one hand and a glass in
the other, is horribly fine. Having bartered away his waistcoat,
shirt, and stockings, and drank until he is in a state of total
insensibility; pale, wan, and emaciated, he is a perfect skeleton. A
few steps higher is a debased counterpart of Lazarus, taking snuff;
thoroughly intoxicated, and negligent of the infant at her breast,
it falls over the rail into an area, and dies an innocent victim to
the baneful vice of its depraved parent. Another of the fair sex
has drank herself to sleep. As an emblem of her disposition being
slothful, a snail is crawling from the wall to her arm. Close to her
we discover one of the lords of the creation gnawing a bare bone,
which a bull-dog, equally ravenous, endeavours to snatch from his
mouth. A working carpenter is depositing his coat and saw with a
pawnbroker. A tattered female offers her culinary utensils at the
same shrine: among them we discover a tea-kettle pawned to procure
money to purchase gin.[43] An old woman, having drank until she is
unable to walk, is put into a wheel-barrow, and in that situation
a lad solaces her with another glass. With the same poisonous and
destructive compound, a mother in the corner drenches her child.
Near her are two charity-girls of St. Giles', pledging each other
in the same corroding compound. The scene is completed by a quarrel
between two drunken mendicants, both of whom appear in the character
of cripples. While one of them uses his crutch as a quarterstaff,
the other with great goodwill aims a stool, on which he usually
sat, at the head of his adversary. This, with a crowd waiting for
their drams at a distiller's door, completes the catalogue of the
_quick_. Of the _dead_ there are two, besides an unfortunate child
whom a drunken madman has impaled upon a spit.[44] One a barber, who,
having probably drank gin until he has lost his reason, has suspended
himself by a rope in his own ruinous garret; the other a beautiful
woman, whom by direction of the parish beadle two men are depositing
in a shell. From her wasted and emaciated appearance, we may fairly
infer she also fell a martyr to this destructive and poisonous
liquid. On the side of her coffin is a child lamenting the loss of
its parent.

The large pewter measure hung over a cellar, on which is engraved
"Gin Royal," was once a common sign; the inscription on this cave of
despair, "Drunk for a penny, dead drunk for twopence, clean straw
for nothing," is worthy observation; it exhibits the state of our
metropolis at that period.

The scene of this horrible devastation is laid in a place which was a
few years since properly enough called the Ruins of St. Giles'.[45]
Except the pawnbroker's, distiller's, and undertaker's, the houses
are literally ruins! These doorkeepers to Famine, Disease, and Death,
living by the calamities of others, are in a flourishing state.[46]

Mr. Hogarth seems to have received the first idea of these two prints
from a pair by Peter Breughel (frequently called _Breughel d'enfer_),
which exhibit a similar contrast. In the one entitled "La Grosse"
are a number of comely and well-fed personages; in the other, which
is baptized "La Maigre Cuisine," the characters are meagre and
wasted: seated on a straw mat are a mother and child, which very much
resemble the wretched female we see upon the steps in the print under
consideration.

To the perspective little attention is paid, but the characters are
admirably discriminated. The emaciated retailer of gin is well drawn.
The woman with a snuff-box has all the mawkish marks of debasement
and drunkenness. The man gnawing a bone, a dog tearing it from him,
and the pawnbroker, have countenances in an equal degree hungry and
rapacious.

A print entitled the "Gin Drinkers," which bears strong marks of
being one of Hogarth's early productions, may perhaps have been the
first thought on which this print was built.

On the subject of these plates was published a catchpenny compilation
from Reynolds' "God's Revenge against Murder," entitled "_A
Dissertation on Mr. Hogarth's six prints--'Gin Lane,' 'Beer Street,'
and the 'Four Stages of Cruelty.'_"



PAUL BEFORE FELIX.

  _Designed and etched in the ridiculous manner of Rembrandt, by
  William Hogarth. Published according to the Act of Parliament,
  May 1, 1751._

  "Each hero is a pillar of darkness, and the sword a beam of
  fire."[47]--FINGAL, Book I. p. 21.

[Illustration: PAUL BEFORE FELIX.]


For the etchings of Rembrandt, and a herd of servile imitators who,
without any of his genius, copied his defects, Hogarth had the most
sovereign contempt. He considered their productions as unmeaning
scratches, as dingy and violent combinations of light and darkness,
which would not bear to be tried by the criterion of either nature
or art. How far he was right in his opinion is not my inquiry; but
certain it is, that at the time of this publication they had the
sanction of those who were deemed good judges, and produced most
enormous prices. To correct this vitiated taste, and bring men back
to reason and common sense, our whimsical artist etched this very
grotesque print.

The Apostle, conformable to the general practice of the Flemish
school, is represented as a mean and vulgar character. Among the
Lilliputians he might have been a giant; among the Romans he must
have been a dwarf. In the true spirit of Dutch allegory, a figure
fat enough for a burgomaster, invested with wings "that clad each
shoulder broad," is seated on the floor behind him as a guardian
angel. At this unpropitious moment the guardian angel is asleep, and
a little imp of darkness,[48] ever active in mischief, is busily
employed with a hand-saw cutting through the leg of the Apostle's
stool, which falling, must inevitably bring the orator to the ground,
where he will probably be seized by the snarling dog on whose collar
is engraved "Felix," and who seems to have an eye to the saint,
though his nose is evidently pointed at his appalled master. Seated
in a wicker chair, with the Roman eagle over his head, and the fasces
at his left hand, Felix indeed trembles. On an adjoining seat is the
all-accomplished Drusilla and her lap-dog. Her olfactory nerves,
as well as those of her companion, are violently affected. With a
sacrificing knife in his right hand, his left clenched, and a
countenance irritated almost to madness, the High Priest appears
ready to leap from the bench and put the Apostle to death, but is
prevented by a more prudent senator. The audience are worthy of the
judges; male and female, young and old, are in dress, deportment,
and feature, perfectly Dutch. Of the same school is the statue of
Justice, with a bandage over one eye, and grasping, in the place of
a flaming sword, a butcher's knife.[49] She stands in awful state,
laden with bags of gold, the rewards of legal decisions.

At a table beneath the bench are five curious characters. The first,
maugre the thundering eloquence of St. Paul, is asleep; the next,
mending a pen; two adjoining are highly offended with a noxious
effluvia, while their bearded associate is grinning and pointing
at the cause from which it emanates. Regardless of all other
objects, an Hebrew counterpart of Shylock is expanding his hands in
astonishment at the unguarded vehemence of the preacher. Not less
exasperated is Tertullus, who, arrayed in the habit of an English
serjeant-at-law,[50] has nothing Roman but his nose. Boiling with
rage, and irritated almost to madness, he tears his brief: this,
a devil, who to give him peculiar distinction has three horns, is
carefully picking up and joining the remnants together.[51] The vase,
and silver plates in a recess, the violent stream of light which
dazzles the eyes of a priest _who stands with his back to it_, the
boat, bark, and white sail glittering in the wave, and a village and
windmill in the distance, are all of Rembrandt's school.

The plate was originally intended as a receipt-ticket to the large
"Paul before Felix," and "Pharaoh's Daughter;" and the artist stained
many early impressions with that yellow tint which time gives to
old prints. For the Paul, and Moses, he afterwards engraved another
design, and presented this to any of his friends who requested
it; but finding applications increase, he fixed the price at five
shillings.[52]


PLATE I.

  _Engraved by William Hogarth, from his original painting in
  Lincoln's-Inn Hall, and published as the Act directs, Feb. 5,
  1752._

  "And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to
  come, Felix trembled."

[Illustration: PAUL PREACHING BEFORE FELIX.]

This print Mr. Hogarth intended as a serious and sublime
representation of the scene which he had so inimitably burlesqued;
yet so little are we qualified to judge of our own powers, that he
has here produced a print as destitute of elevation and sentiment as
are the works of those masters he so successfully ridiculed. With
the Roman eagle he could not soar, and has drawn the royal bird
like a sparrow-hawk, nailed to the bottom of a writing-desk. The
Apostle, with his right foot resting on a lower step than the left,
has neither grace, dignity, nor firmness. Felix has the appearance
of a vinegar-faced apothecary feeling the pulse of a nervous female
patient, and shocked at the velocity of our circulation, dropping
the prescription from his left hand. The haughty High Priest
biting his nails, is deficient in everything except his drapery:
the Jew immediately behind him bears a strong resemblance to an
old-clothes-man. The standard-bearer, and woman with her hands
closed, are a degree better; but the Herculean advocate, with a
brief in his right hand, looks like a journeyman hatter that has
drank porter till he is drowsy; by the strength of his muscles and
the stupidity of his countenance, he seems better fitted for a
bruiser than a pleader.

The listening soldier, at the opposite corner, is meanly conceived
and ill drawn.

At the bottom of one of the copies I once saw the following
memorandum in the handwriting of Hogarth: "A print of the plate that
was set aside as insufficient. Engraved by W. H."


PLATE II.

  _From the original painting in Lincoln's-Inn Hall, painted by Wm.
  Hogarth._

[Illustration: PAUL PREACHING BEFORE FELIX.]

This is engraved from the same design as the former, but the
situation of the figures is reversed, and Drusilla omitted, it being
thought that St. Paul's hand was rather improperly placed.

It is somewhat superior to the former, but the light is ill
distributed, and the characters too individual for the dignity of
historical composition.

Upon this and the following print Doctor Joseph Warton, in his _Essay
on the Genius and Writings of Pope_, made the following remark.
Trusting to his memory, he confounded two prints together, and
remembering to have seen a dog snarling at a cat in the fourth
print of "Industry and Idleness," from an error in recollection,
transferred them to the "Paul before Felix:"--

"Some nicer virtuosi have remarked, that in the serious pieces into
which Hogarth has deviated from the natural bias of his genius
there are some strokes of the ridiculous discernible, which suit
not with the dignity of his subject. In his Preaching of St. Paul,
a dog snarling at a cat; and in his Pharaoh's Daughter, the figure
of the infant Moses, who expresses rather archness than timidity,
are alleged as instances that this artist, unrivalled in his walk,
could not resist the impulse of his imagination towards drollery.
His picture, however, of Richard III. is pure and unmixed, without
any ridiculous circumstances, and strongly impresses terror and
amazement."

On the publication of this criticism, Hogarth engraved the whole
quotation under the two prints alluded to without any comment; but on
the appearance of the following very ample and candid apology, erased
them:--

"The author gladly lays hold of the opportunity of this third edition
of his work to confess a mistake he had committed with respect to
two admirable paintings of Mr. Hogarth,--his Paul Preaching, and
his Infant Moses,--which on a closer examination are not chargeable
with the blemishes imputed to them. Justice obliges him to declare
the high opinion he entertains of the abilities of this inimitable
artist, who shines in so many different lights and on such very
dissimilar subjects, and whose works have more of what the ancients
called the ΗΘΟΣ in them than the compositions of any other modern.
For the rest, the author begs leave to add, that he is so far from
being ashamed of retracting his error, that he had rather appear a
man of candour than the best critic that ever lived."

Hogarth did not understand Greek, and was for some time doubtful
whether the ΗΘΟΣ was meant as complimentary or satirical.

If the original painting in Lincoln's-Inn Hall were destroyed,
Hogarth's reputation would not be diminished.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



MOSES BEFORE PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER.

  "And the child grew, and she brought him unto Pharaoh's daughter,
  and he became her son. And she called his name Moses."--EXODUS
  II. 10.

[Illustration: MOSES BEFORE PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER.]


Among the many benevolent institutions which do honour to this
nation, the hospital for maintaining exposed and deserted infants may
be ranked as one of the most humane and political. Let the austere
enthusiast censure it as an encouragement to vice, and the rigid
moralist declaim against giving sanction to profligacy, it is still
an useful and a benevolent foundation.

To protect the helpless, give refuge to the innocent, and render that
unoffending being a useful member of society whose parents may be too
indigent to give it proper sustenance, or wicked enough to destroy
it, is fulfilling one great precept of religion, and must afford a
pure and exalted gratification to every philanthropic mind.[53]

That it is found necessary to restrict the plan, and confine the
charity in such narrow limits, is much to be lamented. Compassion and
policy demand that the doors should be open to every proper object.

To this asylum for deserted infancy Mr. Hogarth was one of the
earliest benefactors,[54] and to their institution presented the
picture from which this print is engraved; there is not perhaps in
holy writ another story so exactly suitable to the avowed purpose
of the foundation.

The history of Moses being deserted by his mother, exposed among the
bulrushes, and discovered and protected by the daughter of Pharaoh,
is known to every one who has read the Bible: those who have not,
may find it there recorded, with many other things well worthy their
attention. At the point of time here taken, the child's mother,
whom the Princess considers as merely its nurse, has brought him to
his patroness, and is receiving from the treasurer the wages of her
services. The little foundling naturally clings to his nurse, though
invited to leave her by the daughter of a monarch. The eyes of an
attendant, and a whispering Ethiopian, convey an oblique suspicion
that the child has a nearer affinity to their mistress than she
chooses to acknowledge.[55]

Considered as a whole, this picture has a more historic air than we
often find in the works of Hogarth. The royal Egyptian is graceful,
and in some degree elevated.[56] The treasurer is marked with austere
dignity, and the Jewess and child with nature. The scene is superb,
and the distant prospect of pyramids, etc. highly picturesque and
appropriate to the country. To exhibit this scene, the artist has
placed the groups at such a distance as crowd the corners and leave
the centre unoccupied. As the Greeks are said to have received the
rudiments of art from Egypt, the line of beauty on the base of a
pillar is properly introduced. A crocodile creeping from under the
stately chair may be intended to mark the neighbourhood of the Nile,
but is a poor and forced conceit.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



FOUR PRINTS OF AN ELECTION.


I think it is Voltaire who observes that the English nation are
mad every seven years: he might have added that there are local
fits which seize some parts of the country at other times; but this
madness, like the fermentation of liquors, proves the spirit of the
people.

In the following series of prints Mr. Hogarth has delineated the
progress of this malady, in four of its most remarkable stages, with
that broad and characteristic humour peculiar to himself. He has
presented us with the mirror of a contested election, the British
Saturnalia; in which is displayed what Abbé Raynal most emphatically
calls "the majesty of the people!"--an expression, says the same
writer, "which would alone consecrate a language."

The first print was published February 24, 1755, and inscribed to the
Right Hon. Henry Fox.--Plate II., February 20, 1757, to Sir Charles
Hanbury Williams, Ambassador to the Court of Russia.--Plate III.,
February 20, 1758, to the Hon. Sir Edward Walpole, Knight of the
Bath.--Plate IV., January 1, 1759, to the Hon. George Hay, one of
the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty.

The original pictures are now in the possession of Mrs. Garrick, at
Hampton.

It appears from the _Grub Street Journal_ of June 13, 1734, that
the same subject had been previously attempted by another artist,
under the title of "The Humours of a Country Election." It must be
acknowledged that the inscriptions to some of the compartments have
a striking similarity to the scenes represented by Hogarth. "The
candidates very complaisant to a country clown," etc. "The candidates
making an entertainment for the electors and their wives; at the
upper end of the table the parson of the parish," etc.

In 1759 was published, in four cantos, a poetical description of
these prints, introduced by the following remarkable advertisement,
dated

  "CHEAPSIDE, _March 1, 1759_.

  "For the satisfaction of the reader, and in justice to the
  concealed author, I take the liberty, with the permission of Mr.
  Hogarth, to insert in this manner that gentleman's opinion of the
  following cantos, which is--That the thoughts entirely coincide
  with his own; that there is a well-adapted vein of humour
  preserved through the whole; and that though some of his works
  have been formerly explained by other hands, yet none ever gave
  him so much satisfaction as the present performance.

  "JOHN SMITH."

Had Mr. Hogarth's taste for poetry been in any degree equal to his
skill in painting, he would scarcely have given so strong a sanction
to this wretched attempt at Hudibrastic humour, which is coarse,
dull, mean, and very unworthy of the scenes which it professes to
celebrate.[57]


PLATE I.

AN ELECTION ENTERTAINMENT.

      "Here tumult wild and rude confusion reign,
      And hoodwink'd party heads the senseless train;
      Here meets her motley tribe--here holds her court,
      For pamper'd Gluttony, the grand resort.
      From orgies so profane--stern Freedom flown,
      Corruption mounts her abdicated throne.
      Unhappy Britain--thy degenerate tribe,
      Like Esau, barter birthright for a bribe."--E.

[Illustration: THE ELECTION, PLATE I. THE ENTERTAINMENT.]

The first act of this popular farce is very properly a dinner, which
in all public transactions ought to precede every other business.[58]
The scene is laid in a country town, at an inn, which in these piping
times of peace is kept open for the friends of the Court candidate.
All the party, except the divine and the mayor, have ended their
repast; but episcopal dignity, or prætorian distinction, gives a
right to more indulgence than is allowed to the unhallowed multitude.

The highly polished and accomplished gentleman[59] who aspires to the
honour of a seat in the British senate demands our first notice. He
has what an Hibernian would call a face of much promise. His dress,
air, and grace proclaim that he has travelled. Pope has described him
exactly as if he had sat for the picture:

                "He saunter'd Europe round,
      And gathered every vice on Christian ground,
      Saw every court, heard every king declare
      His royal sense of operas, or the fair.--
      See now half-cured, and perfectly well-bred,
      With nothing but a solo in his head,
      As much estate, and principle, and wit,
      As Jansen, Fleetwood, Cibber, shall think fit;
      Stol'n from a duel, follow'd by a nun,
      And if a Borough choose him,--not undone," etc.

At this time of general equality and universal levelling, when
knight and vassal, esquire and mechanic, are of equal rank, our
paragon of politeness is lending an attentive ear to a disgusting
old beldam, who from her rotundity may be a descendant of Sir John
Falstaff's. In her hand, which is behind him, she holds a letter
directed to Sir Commodity Taxem; this we may naturally suppose
contains either a request of a favour or an offer of a service, in
the sure and certain hope of a return to it. Be that as it may, the
gallant knight shows her every attention, and has stretched his long
arm half round her ample waist:

      "Thus the bold eagle leaves his azure way,
      And takes the carrion carcase for his prey;
      There dips his beak--but when the banquet's done,
      Replumes his wings, and rises to the sun."

While a little girl dazzled with the splendour of his brilliant
ring attempts to make it a prize, a fellow who stands upon a chair
behind him, with all that easy familiarity which the time warrants,
strikes the Baronet's head against that of the old woman, and shakes
the ashes out of his tobacco-pipe upon his powdered hair. This is
election wit.

The next group form a trio, and are made up by a grinning cobbler, a
dirty-faced barber, and a mawkish gentleman, whose hand the son of
St. Crispin grasps with an energy that almost cracks the bones. The
barber, equally friendly, pinches his arm, and resting one hand upon
his shoulder blows the hot fumes from a short tobacco-pipe into his
eye. This also is election wit.

A pyramidical group behind is composed of an officer, a drunken
counsellor, and a pleasing young woman, over whose head the maudlin
advocate, flourishing a bumper of wine, roars out an obscene toast.
This is the third and most finished specimen of election wit. At
a table a little beneath, stewing "the last lov'd remnant of the
forest haunch," sits an oily divine,[60] holding his canonical
periwig in his right hand, and wiping his forehead with the left.
Behind him is a Scotch bagpiper, who, at the same time that he is
pressing out his harsh and unmusical tones, enjoys the _royal_
luxury of scratching.[61] A female player on the violin,[62] and a
most consequential performer on the bass viol, when aided by the
Caledonian pipe, must form a most melodious concert.

A fourth votary of St. Cecilia holds his musical instrument under his
arm, ceasing all dulcet sounds, while he drinks a glass of Burgundy
with a gentleman who seems much gratified at seeing a chin of more
extravagant length than his own. Adjoining are two country fellows
delighted beyond measure at a person[63] making the representation
of a face by wrapping a napkin round his hand, and singing, "An old
woman clothed in grey," etc. This face, ingeniously designed with
charcoal blots for eyes and mouth, bears a strong resemblance to the
poor gouty old fellow on his left hand, whose violent contortions
lead us to suspect that he feels some disagreeable internal emotion.
Behind, is a fellow pouring the contents of a vessel through a
window amongst a crowd made up of the opposite party, in return for a
shower of stones they are hurling into the room. To annoy and repel
these troublesome assailants, a man at the opposite corner throws out
a three-legged stool. At the upper end of the table sits a gentleman
in a tye-wig, whom we presume to be the Right Worshipful Mr. Mayor.
He has ate oysters until his breath is stopped, and is now under
the hands of a barber-surgeon. This village _Sangrado_ attempts to
breathe a vein; "But ah! the purple tide no more will flow."

Notwithstanding this suspension of vital powers, our absolute monarch
of his own corporation, true to the cause, and actuated by his ruling
passion, even in death, grasps a fork, on which he has impaled an
oyster. Immediately behind him an electioneering agent offers a
bribe to a puritanic tailor; but this conscientious wielder of the
needle, lifting up his eyes with horror, refuses the money, maugre
the terrific threats of his _amiable_ wife, who, while she raises her
right fist in a menacing style, rests her left hand on the head of
their barefooted boy.

On an opposite chair is an unfortunate man of the law, who, intent on
casting up the sure and doubtful votes, is, like the mighty Goliah,
struck in the forehead with a stone, and falls prostrate to the
floor. "Where be his quirks and quiddits now?"

A champion of the same party, generally called a bludgeon-man,[64]
having met with a similar accident in the cause of his country, is
taken in hand by a patriotic butcher, who, assuming the office of
surgeon, pours gin into the wound. A little boy filling a mashing-tub
with punch,[65] and a trading Quaker reading a promissory note,
conclude the catalogue. This note is from the candidate to Mr. Abel
Squat for fifty pounds, payable six months after date, and probably
offered in payment for ribands, gloves, etc., which are to be
presented to the electors' wives and daughters. With this note honest
Abel is much dissatisfied; and by the manner one hand is laid upon
his little bale of goods, it does not seem probable that he will part
with them for paper security.

Coming in at the door we see a band of assailants from the opposite
party, determined to attack the enemy in their entrenchments; most
of them flourish their cudgels, but one of the heroes brandishes a
sword. The stag's horns over the door may perhaps be intended to
convey some allusion to the trembling Puritan. A party, whom their
enemies at that time distinguished by the name of Jacobites, to
show _their_ respect for Revolution principles, have mangled the
portrait of King William the Third. The escutcheon with the Elector's
arms, A CHEVRON SABLE BETWEEN THREE GUINEAS OR, with the crest of a
gaping mouth, and motto "Speak and Have," is very applicable to a
parliamentary canvas. The landscape over the candidate's head may,
it has been observed, be intended as a representation of the town
where this business is transacting. On the flag, which is entwined
with laurels, is inscribed "Liberty and Loyalty," which cabalistic
words, like the Abracadabra, are a sort of charm to the eyes of
your Englishman. On another flag, which lies upon the ground, is
written, "Give us our Eleven Days."[66] In the tobacco tray is a
paper of Kirton's best,[67] and a slip from the Act against Bribery
and Corruption is torn to light pipes with. A lobster appears to be
creeping towards a mutton chop, which lies unheeded in a corner. A
procession in the street are following an effigy,[68] on the breast
of which is inscribed, "No Jews." The mottoes on their flags are
equally curious: "Liberty and Property, and no Excise;" and, "Marry
and Multiply, in spite of the devil."

An inscription on the butcher's cockade is infinitely more classical
and elegant: "Pro Patriæ" has a chance of general admiration, because
it is not generally understood.

As to the characters of the _dramatis personæ_. The face and air of
the Baronet are perfectly of Lord Chesterfield's school; a fellow
scattering ashes on his head, and the cobbler at the table, are
marked with mischief. The fat old woman is of Mother Cole's family;
and the divine has the corpulence and consequence of a bishop. He
must "lard the lean earth as he walks along." The two country fellows
looking with delighted eyes at Mr. Parnell, and an old man tortured
by the gout, are admirably discriminated. The barber-surgeon and his
brother butcher have so much _sang froid_, and display so little
feeling for their suffering patients, that we naturally infer each
of them is in great practice.

Hogarth was fond of making experiments; and it has been said, that
when engraving this plate he determined to attempt what no artist
had ever performed, _i.e._ to finish the plate without taking a
single proof during the process. The consequence was such as might
be expected; he made some mistakes that it was scarcely possible
to rectify, and on discovering the errors, violently exclaimed
that he was ruined. On his passion subsiding, a brother engraver
assisted him to correct the faults occasioned by trying to perform
an impossibility. It is, however, the highest finished print he ever
engraved.

In the first state of the plate were some lemons and oranges lying
on a paper by the side of the tub; but Hogarth being informed that
vitriol and cream of tartar are the usual acids in election punch,
erased them from the copper.


PLATE II.

CANVASSING FOR VOTES.

      "Although bare merit might in Rome appear
      The strongest plea for favour,--'tis not here;
      We form our judgment in another way,
      And he will best succeed who best can pay."

[Illustration: THE ELECTION, PLATE II. CANVASSING FOR VOTES.]

The centre group in this print represents a rustic freeholder between
two innkeepers, each of whom, as agents for their respective parties,
are dropping money into his hands. From the arch and significant
cast of his eye, we see that though interest induces him to take
all that either of them will give, _conscience_ obliges him to vote
for the best paymaster.[69] One of the candidates, considering how
necessary it is to conciliate the favour of the fair, is purchasing
trinkets from a Jew pedlar for two ladies, who express their virtuous
wishes in a balcony. Though neither of them have votes, their
interest may be very extensive. By the direction upon a letter which
a porter, in the hope of a more liberal gratuity, delivers with a
bended knee, we perceive that this gentleman is of the numerous and
ancient family of the party tools, who have flourished in this
island ever since the Revolution. A packet on the ground consists of
printed bills to be dispersed among the electors, intimating that
Punch's theatre is opened,[70] the company of the worthy electors
humbly[71] and earnestly requested, etc. etc. In election business,
eating is a leading article; of this, two hungry countrymen in the
Royal Oak larder seem perfectly sensible. One of them is voraciously
devouring a fowl, and the other slashing away a round of beef.
Seated upon an old stern of a ship, which is placed as a kind of
national trophy at the inn door, and represents the British lion
swallowing the lily of France, is the buxom landlady (at this time a
very important personage), counting the money she has received for
_her_ interest in the borough; a grenadier watches her with that
kind of eagerness which seems to intimate a desire of dividing the
spoil. Settling the nation while they drink their ale, a barber and
a cobbler are engaged in a dispute upon politics at the door of the
Portobello[72] alehouse. The former seems describing, with pieces
of broken tobacco-pipes, the great exploits of Admiral Vernon with
six ships only. In the progress of this voluble harangue he has
advanced something contrary to the cobbler's creed, and Crispin,
being no great orator, offers to back his opinion by a wager. This
the eloquent flourisher of a razor is either unwilling or unable
to answer, and the self-important mender of bad soles triumphantly
sweeps his cash from the table to his pocket. A fellow mounted on
a cross-beam at the end of the Crown signpost deserves particular
notice. Eagerly exercising his hand-saw, he strains every nerve to
cut through the beam, totally negligent of his own situation, and
forgetting that when the Crown drops--he must fall. To accelerate
this operation, and bring the business to a more speedy crisis, two
zealous coadjutors are exerting all their strength in pulling at a
rope which is tied round the beam. This is one of the neatest pieces
of allegory that Hogarth has delineated.

The crowd beneath are a fair representation of what we had occasion
to notice before--the majesty of the people. Delighting in
devastation, and blind to its consequences, they with one voice "cry
havoc, and let slip the dogs of war." The landlord, enraged at this
wanton attack upon his _castle_, opens his window and discharges a
blunderbuss amongst the assailants. Painted on the upper part of a
show-cloth, and hung before the sign of the Royal Oak,[73] is a view
of the Treasury, out of which a stream of gold is poured into a bag,
which, when filled, will be hoisted into a large waggon now loading
with guineas to defray the expense of the approaching elections.
Next to this is a view of that _solid_ specimen of Mr. Ware's taste
and talents in architecture, the Horse Guards. To the cupola of this
ponderous pile the artist has, with very little exaggeration, given
the form of a beer barrel. In the centre arch the builder forgot
proportion and neglected utility, so that the state coach could not
pass through until the ground was lowered. To satirize this violation
of the laws of Palladio, and inattention to the dictates of common
sense, Hogarth has represented the royal carriage on the point of
entering the arch, and the king's _body-coachman_ without a head.[74]
Beneath is delineated that ancient favourite of a puppet-show, the
facetious Mr. Punch, with a barrow full of guineas, which, with a
wooden ladle, he tosses up and scatters in the air, to the great
delight of two sylvan freeholders who attempt to catch them in their
hats. One of these _simple_ swains,[75] having had his head broken
with the gold, endeavours to guard his _caput_ from future mishaps.
An old woman standing behind them with a magic wand, I suppose to
be Mrs. Punch. Underneath is a very applicable inscription, "Punch,
a candidate for Guzzledown." A view in the background, between
the Crown and Portobello, of a cottage embosomed in a wood, and
a village in the distance, is highly picturesque. The tree, which
spreads its foliage before the walls of the Royal Oak, has one
withered bough; and enveloped by the luxuriant branches of a vine,
hangs a wooden bunch of grapes.

The characters are admirable. Nothing can be superior to the haughty
and oracular self-importance of the cobbler; the barber has all his
professional volubility; and the leer of the countryman lets you into
his whole soul. It is evidently directed to mine host of the Oak,[76]
who, added to his superior weight of _metal_, has a superior weight
of body, and a much more persuasive aspect. The Jew has the true
countenance of his tribe. Of his customer, we may say in the language
of Shylock,

      "How like a fawning publican he looks!"


PLATE III.

THE POLLING.

      "Time was,--our freeholders, a stout rustic band,
      Inhal'd the fresh breeze as they till'd their own land;
      Their hearts beam'd with honour, their faces with health,
      Their toil gave them strength, and their diligence wealth.
      But these sons of misery, disfranchis'd by fate,
      Resemble a group at an hospital gate,
      All huddled together in one little clan,
      To display the calamities common to man.
      Yet deaf, blind, or lame, we must trust to their choice;
      _Sans_ ears, eyes, or hands,--each may have a good voice.
      And--gasping for breath,--it deserves special note,
      The _expiring Elector_ is deem'd a _dead vote_."--E.

[Illustration: THE ELECTION, PLATE III. THE POLLING.]

With the glorious ambition of serving their country, added to an
eagerness of displaying their own importance, the maimed, the lame,
the blind, the deaf, and the sick, hasten to the hustings to give
their _independent_ votes.[77] The contending candidates, seated at
the back of the booth, anticipate the event. One of them, coolly
resting upon his cane in a state of stupid satisfaction, appears to
be as happy as his nature will admit, in the certainty of success.
Very different are the feelings of his opponent, who, rubbing his
head with every mark of apprehensive agitation, contemplates the
state of the poll, and shudders at the heavy expense of a contest in
which he is likely to be the loser. Such are the cares of a candidate.

      "A man, when once he's safely chose,
      May laugh at all his furious foes,
        Nor think of former evil:
      Yet good has its attendant ill,
      A seat is no bad thing,--but still,
        A contest is the Devil."

The first person that tenders his oath to the swearing clerk is an
old soldier, and probably a brave one, for he has lost a leg, an arm,
and a hand, in the service of his country. They were severed by the
sword of an enemy, but the trunk and heart remain entire, and are
entitled to more respect than is paid them by the brawling advocate,
who, with that loud and overbearing loquacity for which Billingsgate
and the bar are so deservedly eminent, puts in a protest against his
vote. The objection is not founded upon this heroic remnant of war
having forfeited his franchise by any improper conduct, but upon
the letter, the black letter of the law, "which," says our quibbling
counsellor, "ordains, 'that the person who makes an affidavit shall
lay his right hand upon the book.' Now, this man having had his
right hand severed from his arm, and, as he informs us, left it in
Flanders, cannot comply with the letter of the law, and therefore
is not competent to make an affidavit; that being once admitted,
which I do contend must be admitted, he cannot be deemed competent
to vote." "That," replies another gentleman of the black robe, "I
most pointedly deny; for though this valiant veteran, who is an
half-pay officer, has lost much of his blood and three of his limbs
in the service of his king, and defence of his fellow-subjects, yet
the sword which deprived him of his hand has not deprived him of his
birthright. God forbid it should! It might as well be argued and
asserted, that this gentleman is excluded from the rites of matrimony
because he cannot pledge his hand. Thanks to our religion and our
constitution, neither law nor gospel holds such language, and it
is beneath me to waste any more words in the confutation of it. I
will only add,--and I do insist upon my opinion being confirmed by
every statute upon the case,--that the law must and will consider
this substitute for a hand to be as good as the hand itself; and
his laying that upon the book is all which the law ought to
require,--all the law can require,--all the law does require."

Leaving these two bright luminaries of their profession to throw
dust, and render that obscure which without their explanation would
have been perfectly clear, let us attend to the son of Solomon, who
is fastened in his chair and brought to give his voice for a fit
person to represent _him_ in Parliament. This is evidently a deaf
idiot, but he is attended by a man in fetters,[78] very capable of
prompting him, who is at this moment roaring in his ear the name of
the gentleman for whom he is to vote. Behind him are two fellows
carrying a man wrapped in a blanket, apparently in so languid a
state, that he cannot be supposed to feel much interest in the
concerns of a world he is on the point of leaving.[79] The catalogue
of this motley group of electors is concluded by a blind man and
a cripple, who are slowly and cautiously ascending the steps that
lead to the hustings. In the group an artist is drawing a profile of
one of the candidates, and in both air and character this Sayers of
his day has given a very striking resemblance of his original. The
constable, fatigued by double duty, is at peace with all mankind--a
deep sleep is upon him. Many of the crowd are attentively listening
to the soft sounds of a female siren, warbling forth a brown paper
libel on one of the candidates in that universal language which those
that cannot read may yet understand,--the hero of this satire being
delineated as suspended to a gibbet on the top of the ballad.

In the sinister corner is a view of Britannia's chariot oversetting,
while the coachman and footman are playing at cards on the box. Here
is one of the few instances where Hogarth has mounted into the cloudy
heights of allegory; and here, as Mr. Walpole justly observes, he is
not happy: it is a dark and dangerous region, in which almost every
aeronaut of the arts has lost himself, and confused his earth-born
admirers. On a bridge in the background is a carriage, with
colours flying, and a cavalcade composed of worthy and independent
freeholders advancing to give their suffrages with all possible
_éclat_.

The village in the distance has a pretty effect. Of the church we may
fairly say, as Charles the Second did of that at Harrow on the Hill,
"It is the _visible_ church."

Part of this plate was engraved by Morrilon le Cave, who was a
scholar of Picart's. In the year 1733, he engraved from Hogarth's
design a small print of Captain Coram, etc., as the headpiece to a
power of attorney for the Governors of the Foundling Hospital: he
also engraved a head of Doctor Pococke, which is the frontispiece to
Twell's edition of the Doctor's works.


PLATE IV.

CHAIRING THE MEMBER.

      When Philip's warlike and victorious son
      A kingdom conquer'd or a battle won,
      His legions bow'd the head, and bent the knee,
      And cried, exulting,--Lo, a Deity!
      Bore him triumphant in a glittering car,
      While thundering plaudits rent the echoing air.
        So,--the Election being finish'd,
      His borough gain'd, his coin diminish'd,
      Our Knight in mock heroic state
      Is now exalted,--but not great.
        Beyond all doubt the people's choice,
      Ah!--could he check the people's voice?
      For some exclaim,--A venal knave!
      And others,--A time-serving slave!
      While this roars out,--A party tool!
      That, sneering cries,--A party fool!
        These are hard words, and grating tones;
      But what are words to broken bones?
      And broken bones he'll soon bewail,
      For there's no fence against a flail.
      Oh hapless wight!--ah, luckless fray,
      Down drops this pageant of the day.
        Thus, he most raised above his fellows,
      By one rude blast from Fortune's bellows,
      Falls, like a tempest-riven tower,
      From pomp, pride, circumstance, and power.--E.

[Illustration: THE ELECTION, PLATE IV. CHAIRING THE MEMBERS.]

The polling being concluded, the books cast up, and the
returning-officer having declared our candidate[80] duly elected, he
is now exhibited in triumph. Seated in an arm-chair, and exalted upon
the shoulders of four tried supporters of the constitution, he is
borne through the principal streets, which are promiscuously crowded
with enemies as well as friends. In this aerostatic voyage there
seems to be some danger of a wreck; for a thresher having received
an insult from a sailor, in the act of revenging it flourishes his
flail in as extensive an orbit as if he were in his own barn. The
end of this destructive instrument coming in contact with the skull
of a bearer of our new-made member, the fellow's head rings with
the blow, his eyes swim, his limbs refuse their office, and at this
inauspicious moment the effects of the stroke, like an electric
shock, extend to the exalted senator. He trembles in every joint; the
hat flies from his head--and--without the intervention of Juno or
Minerva, he must fall from the seat of honour to the bed of stone.
Terrified at his impending danger, a nervous lady, who with her
attendants is in the churchyard, falls back in a swoon. Regardless
of her distress, two little chimney-sweepers upon the gate-post are
placing a pair of gingerbread spectacles on a death's head. Their
sportive tricks are likely to be interrupted by a monkey beneath,
who, arrayed _en militaire_, is mounted upon a bear's back. The
firelock slung over this little animal's shoulder, in a fray between
the bear and a biped, is accidentally discharged in a direction
that, if loaded, must carry leaden death to one of the gibing soot
merchants above.[81]

The venerable musician, delighted with his own harmony, neither takes
a part nor feels an interest in the business of the day. Let not his
neutrality be attributed to a wrong cause; nor be it supposed that,
in a country where every good citizen must espouse some party,[82]
this ancient personage would remain an indifferent spectator were he
not totally blind. At an opposite corner a naked soldier is taking
a few refreshing grains of best Virginia, and preparing to dress
himself after the performance of a pugilistic duet. On the other side
of the rails a half-starved French cook, a half-bred English cook,
and a half-roasted woman cook, are carrying three covers for the
lawyers' table. Near them is a cooper inspecting a vessel that had
been reported leaky, and must speedily be filled with home-brewed
ale for the gratification of the populace. Two fellows are forcing
their way through the crowd in the background with a barrel of
the same liquor. Coming out of a street behind them, a procession
of triumphant electors hail the other successful candidate, whose
shadow appears on the wall of the court-house. In Mr. Attorney's[83]
first floor are a group of the defeated party glorying in their
security, and highly delighted with the confusion below. One of
these, distinguished by a riband, is said to be intended for the
late Duke of Newcastle, who was eminently active on these occasions.
A poor old lady is unfortunately thrown down by a litter of pigs,
which, followed by their _mamma_, rush through the crowd with as
much impetuosity as if the whole herd were possessed. One of this
agreeable party has leaped, not into the ocean, but the brook, and
the whole family are on the point of following its example.

Hogarth had surely some antipathy to tailors; in the background he
has introduced one of these knights of the needle disciplined by his
wife for having quitted the shop-board to look at the gentlemen.
In Le Brun's "Battle of the Granicus," an eagle is represented as
hovering over the plumed helmet of Alexander; this thought is very
happily parodied in a goose,[84] flying immediately over the tye-wig
of our exalted candidate.

Mr. Nichols, in his _Anecdotes of Hogarth_, very shrewdly observes
that "the ruined house adjoining to the attorney's is a stroke
of satire that should not be overlooked, because," adds the same
writer, "it intimates that nothing can thrive in the neighbourhood
of such vermin."[85] In this inference I most sincerely join, but am
afraid that in the present instance we cannot establish our data.
The house is not in ruins from the inhabitant having been unable to
keep it in repair, neither has it been torn by the teeth of time;
for it is apparently the wreck of a modern edifice, which has been
thus destroyed by a riotous mob, because it belonged to one of the
opposite party.

An inscription on the sun-dial, when joined to the mortuary
representation on the church gate-post, has been supposed to imply
a pun hardly worthy of Hogarth, but which yet I am inclined to
suspect he intended. "We must,"[86] on the sun-dial, say some of his
illustrators, means--We must die all (_dial_).

All the incidents in this very whimsical plate are naturally and yet
skilfully combined: the whole is in the highest degree laughable,
and every figure stamped with its proper character. The apprehensive
terror of the unwieldy member, the Herculean strength of the
exasperated thresher, and the energetic attitude of the maimed
sailor, deserve peculiar praise.

Previous to the publication of this series, Mr. Hogarth's satire was
generally aimed at the follies and vices of individuals. He has here
ventured to dip his pencil in the ocean of politics, and delineated
the corrupt and venal conduct of our electors in the choice of their
representatives. That these four plates display a picture in any
degree applicable to the present times must not be asserted, because
it might, by the help of _innuendo_, be construed into a libel on
the present upright and independent House of Commons: but from the
floating memorials of some little transactions that took place some
thirty or forty years ago, there is reason to think that the people
of Great Britain were so far from being influenced by a reverence for
public virtue, that they began to suspect it had no existence. Their
faith in violent professions of the _amor patriæ_ had been staggered
by several recent instances of political depravity. They had a few
years before seen a William Pulteney, the champion of patriots, the
idol of the people, the dread of ministers, desert from the party
of which he was a leader, quit the cause for which he had been the
most violent advocate, and accept a peerage. This, and some similar
circumstances, gave an example and an apology for universal venality.

How different was the spirit which actuated the Earl of Bath,
from that independent dignity, that patriotic ardour, that holy
enthusiasm, which has emblazoned the name of Andrew Marvel[87] with
a saint-like glory! Let his name be consecrated by the reverence and
the gratitude of every Englishman, and may we live to see a band
of senators who will emulate his virtues! Could we have faith in
speeches, many which we have heard and read are of much promise; let
us hope that the day of performance is at hand.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



THE MARCH TO FINCHLEY.

  "Now I behold the chiefs in the pride of their former deeds;
  their souls are kindled at the battles of old, and the actions
  of other times. Their eyes are like flames of fire, and roll in
  search of the foes of the land. Their mighty hands are on their
  swords, and lightning pours from their sides of steel. They
  came like streams from the mountains; each rushed roaring from
  his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle in the arms of their
  fathers."[88]--FINGAL, Book I. p. 7.

[Illustration: THE MARCH TO FINCHLEY.]


That so admirable a representation of the manners of England should
be dedicated to the King of Prussia,[89] is one of those odd
circumstances which must surprise a man who is not acquainted with
the history of the plate. Before publication it was inscribed to
his late Majesty, and the picture taken to St. James's, in the hope
of royal approbation. George the Second was an honest man and a
soldier, but not a judge of either a work of humour or a work of art.
The corporal or sergeant he considered as employed in a way which
dignified their nature, and gave them a title to the name and rank of
gentlemen. The painter or engraver, however exquisite their skill,
however elevated their conceptions, were on the King's scale mere
mechanics.

When told that Hogarth had painted a picture of the Guards on their
march to Finchley, and meant to dedicate a print engraved from it to
the King of Great Britain, his Majesty probably expected to see an
allegorical representation of an army of heroes devoting their lives
to the service of their country; and their sovereign, habited like
"the mailed Mars," seated upon a cloud, where he might,

                  "With a commanding voice,
      Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war."

If such was his expectation, we may readily conceive his
disappointment on viewing this delineation. His first question was
addressed to a nobleman-in-waiting: "Pray, who is this Hogarth?" "A
painter, my liege." "I hate _bainting_; and _boetry_ too! neither the
one nor the other ever did any good! Does the fellow mean to laugh at
my Guards?" "The picture, an please your Majesty, must undoubtedly be
considered as a burlesque." "What! a _bainter_ burlesque a soldier?
he deserves to be picketed for his insolence! Take his trumpery out
of my sight."

The print was returned to the artist, who, completely mortified
at such a reception of what he very properly considered as his first
work, immediately altered the inscription, inserting, instead of the
King of England, the King of Prussia (as an encourager of the arts).

Though the fine arts were never much encouraged in Prussia, the
painter received a handsome acknowledgment for his dedication,
and afterwards circulated proposals for publishing his print by
subscription. Thus was it announced in the _General Advertiser_ of
April 14, 1750:--"Mr. Hogarth is publishing by subscription a print,
representing 'The March to Finchley' in the year 1746; engraved on a
copperplate 22 inches by 17: the price, 7s. 6d.

"Subscriptions are taken in at the Golden Head, in Leicester Fields,
till the 30th of this instant, and no longer, to the end that the
engraving may not be retarded.

"_Note._--Each print will be half a guinea after the subscription is
over.

"In the subscription-book are the particulars of a proposal, whereby
each subscriber of three shillings over and above the said seven
shillings and sixpence for the print will, in consideration thereof,
be entitled to a chance of having the original picture, which shall
be delivered to the winning subscriber as soon as the engraving is
finished."

_General Advertiser_, May 1, 1750.--"Yesterday Mr. Hogarth's
subscription was closed: eighteen hundred and forty-three chances
being subscribed for, Mr. Hogarth gave the remaining hundred and
sixty-seven chances to the Foundling Hospital, and the same night
delivered the picture to the Governors."

By the fortunate number being among those presented to a charity
which he so much wished to serve, the artist was highly gratified.
In a private house it would have been in a degree secluded from the
public, and by the lapse of time have been transferred to those
who could not appreciate its merit, and from either negligence or
ignorance, might have been destroyed by damp walls, or effaced from
the canvas by picture-cleaners. Here, it was likely to remain a
permanent and honourable testimony of his talents and liberality.
Notwithstanding all this, Hogarth soon after waited upon the
treasurer of the hospital, and acquainted him, that if the trustees
thought proper, they were at liberty to dispose of the picture by
auction. His motives for giving this permission it is not easy
to assign. They might have their origin in his desire to enrich
a foundation which had his warmest wishes, or a natural though
ill-judged ambition to have his greatest work in the possession of
some one who had a collection of the old masters, with whom he in no
degree dreaded a competition. Whether his mind was actuated by these
or other causes is not important; certain it is that his opinion
changed--he requested the trustees would not dispose of it, and
never afterwards consented to the measure he himself had originally
proposed. The late Duke of Ancaster's father wished to become a
purchaser, and once offered the trustees three hundred pounds for
it. I have been told that a much larger sum was since proffered by
another gentleman.

The scene is laid before the Adam and Eve, in Tottenham Court Road,
and entitled, "A Representation of the March of the Guards towards
Scotland in the year 1745."

A handsome young grenadier has been denominated the principal figure,
but may with more propriety be called the principal figure of the
principal group. His countenance exhibits a strong contest between
affection and duty; for the manner in which his Irish helpmate
clings to his arm, and at the same time with threatening aspect
lifts up her right hand grasping the _Remembrancer_,[90] proves to
a moral certainty that to her he has made a matrimonial vow; while
the tender, entreating distress of the poor girl at his right hand,
seems to intimate that, though she possesses his heart, she can make
no claim except to his gratitude and affection, both of which her
present situation seems to demand. Her face forms a strong contrast
to that of the fury who is on the other side; for while one is
marked with grief and tender regret, the other has all the savage
ferocity of an unchained tiger: she is an accomplished masculine
tramp, perfectly qualified to follow a regiment, and would be as
ready to plunder those that are slaughtered as to scold those who
escape: being by no means of the class described by Dr. Johnson when,
speaking of superfluous epithets, he says, "they are like the valets
and washerwomen that follow an army, who add to the number without
increasing the force." The papers of which these two claimants
are the vendors determine their principles. The mild-tempered,
soft-featured _gentlewoman_ with a cross upon a cloak, is evidently
a hawker of the _Jacobites' Journal_, _Remembrancer_, and _London
Evening Post_, papers remarkable for their inflammatory tendency;
while a portrait of the gallant Duke of Cumberland, and the now
popular ballad of _God save the King_, hang upon the basket of her
rival.

An old woman immediately behind, with a pipe in her mouth and a child
on her back, appears to have grown rather ancient in the service;
but notwithstanding her load and her poverty, puffs away care, and
carries a cheerful countenance.

Near the child's head a meagre Frenchman is whispering an old
fellow, whom Mr. Thornton in his description of the plate calls an
Independent; but as in the original painting part of a plaid appears
under his greatcoat, the artist most probably intended it for an old
Highlander in disguise. Rouquet, who perhaps had his explanation from
Hogarth, describes it as follows:--

"A droite du principal group paroit une figure de François, qu'on
a voulu représenter comme un homme de quelque importance, afin de
lui donner plus de ridicule; il parle à un homme dont la nation est
indiquée par l'étoffe de sa veste, qui est celui dont s'habillent
les habitans des montagnes d'Ecosse: le François semble communiquer
à l'Ecossois des lettres qu'il vient de recevoir, et qui ont
rapport à l'évenement qui donne lieu à cette marche. Les Anglois ne
se réjouissent jamais bien sans qu'il en coute quelque chose aux
François: leur théatre, leur conversation, leurs tableaux, et sur
tout ceux de notre peintre, portent toujours cette glorieuse marque
de l'amour de la patrie: les Romans même sont ornés de traits amusans
sur cet ancien sujet; l'excellent auteur de _Tom Jones_, a voulu
aussi lâcher les siens. Mais le prétendu mépris pour les François
dont le peuple de ce pais-ci fait profession, s'explique selon moi
d'une façon fort équivoque. Le mépris suppose l'oubli; mais un
objet dont on médit perpétuellement occupé: la satire constitue une
attention qui me feroit soupçonner qu'on fait aux François l'honneur
de les haïr un peu."

A drummer, sick of the remonstrances of his wife and child, each
of whom made a forcible seizure of his person, actuated by a spirit
similar to that of our third Richard, beats a thundering tattoo upon
his own warlike instrument; and aided by the ear-piercing fife[91]
at his right hand, drowns the noise of the tell-tale woman who thus
endeavours to check his ardour and impede his march. A war-worn
soldier contemplating a quack-doctor's bill, and a woman peeping out
of a pent-house above, end the group at the left corner.

Under a sign of the Adam and Eve a crowd are gathered round two
combatants, who appear to be adepts in the noble science of boxing.

      "Amid the circle now each champion stands,
      And poises high in air his iron hands;
      Hurling defiance; now they fiercely close--
      Their crackling jaws re-echo to the blows."

A man, who from his dress seems to be of a rank superior to the
crowd, inflamed with a love of glory, enters with great spirit into
the business now going on, and tries to inspire the combatants with
a noble contempt of bruises and broken bones. This is said to be a
portrait of Lord Albemarle Bertie, who is again exhibited in "The
Cockpit." The scene being laid in the background, the figures are
diminutive; but every countenance is marked with interest, and no
one more than a little fellow[92] of meagre frame but undaunted
spirit, who with clenched fists and agitated face deals blow for
blow with the combatants. Somerville, in his _Rural Games_, has well
described the passions which agitate the audience in a similar scene
at a country wake:

      "Each swain his wish, each trembling nymph conceals
      Her secret dread; while every panting breast
      Alternate fears and hopes depress or raise.
      Thus, long in dubious scale the contest hung," etc.

With a humour peculiar to himself, the painter has exhibited a figure
shrinking under the weight of a heavy burden, who, preferring the
gratification of curiosity to rest, is a spectator, and in this
uneasy state waits the issue of the combat.

Upon the sign-board of the Adam and Eve is inserted, "Tottenham Court
Nursery," allusive to a booth for bruising in the place, as well as a
nursery for plants, and the group of figures beneath.

A carriage laden with camp equipage, consisting of drums, halberds,
tent-poles, and hoop petticoats, is passing through the turnpike
gate. Upon this, two old female campaigners are puffing their
pipes, and holding a conversation in fire and smoke. These grotesque
personages are well contrasted by an elegant and singularly delicate
figure upon the same carriage, suckling her child; which, it has been
said, proves that the painter is as successful in portraying the
graceful as the humorous. This very beautiful figure is, however,
almost a direct copy from Guido's "Madonna." To show that a little
boy at her feet is of an heroic stock, the artist has represented him
blowing a small trumpet. The sergeant on the ground beneath seems
exerting the authority with which his post vests him in calling his
men to order: he has a true roast-beef countenance, and is haughty
enough for a general.

The foreground in the centre is occupied by a group of figures, which
tell their own story in a manner that perhaps no other artist of any
age could have equalled. While an officer is kissing a milk-maid, an
arch soldier, taking advantage of her neglected pails, fills his hat
with milk: this is observed by a little chimney-sweeper, who, with a
grin upon his face, entreats that he may have a share in the plunder,
and fill his cap. Another soldier pointing out the jest to a fellow
who is selling pies, the pastry-cook, gratified by the mischief,
forgets the luscious cakes in the tray on his head, and the military
Mercury seems likely to convey them all to his own pocket. The faces
of this group are in a most singular degree descriptive of their
situations, and consonant to their mischievous employments.

An old soldier, divested of one spatterdash, near losing the other,
and felled to the ground by all-potent gin, is now calling for more;
his uncivil comrade, supporting him with one hand, endeavours to pour
water into his mouth with the other; this the veteran toper rejects
with disdain, and lifts up a hand to his wife, who is bearer of the
arms and the bottle, and being well acquainted with his taste, fills
another quartern.

A child with emaciated face extends its little arms, and wishes
for a taste of that poisonous potion it is probably accustomed to
swallow: "And here" (says Mr. Thornton in the _Student_), "not to
dwell wholly upon the beauties of this print, I must mention an error
discovered by a professed connoisseur in painting. 'Can there,' says
this excellent judge, 'be a greater absurdity than introducing a
couple of chickens so near such a crowd; and not only so, but see
their direction is to objects it is natural for them to shun.--Is
this knowledge of nature? Absurd to the last degree!' And here,
with an air of triumph, ended our judicious critic. How great was
his surprise, when it was pointed out that the said chickens were
in pursuit of the hen, which appears to have a resting-place in a
sailor's pocket!"

An honest tar, throwing up his hat, is crying "God save our noble
King, God save the King:" immediately before him an image of drunken
loyalty vows de--de--destruction on the heads of the rebels.

A humane soldier perceiving a fellow heavy laden with a barrel of
gin, and stopped by the crowd, bores a hole in the head of his cask,
and kindly draws off a part of his burden. Near him is a figure of
what may, in the army, be called a fine fellow.[93] As I suppose the
painter designed him without character, I shall only observe that he
is a very pretty gentleman; and happily the contemplation of his own
dear person guards him from the attempts of the wicked woman on his
right hand.[94]

The invention of a new term must be pardoned--I shall include the
whole King's Head in the word Cattery; the principal figure is a
noted fat Covent Garden lady,[95] who, with pious eyes cast up to
heaven, prays for the army's success, and the safe return of many of
her babes of grace. An officer having placed a letter on the end of
his pike, presents it to one of the beauties in the first floor;
but the fair _enamorata_, evidently disgusted at the recollection
of some part of his former conduct, flutters her fan and rejects
it with disdain. Above her, a charitable girl of an inferior order
is throwing a piece of coin to a cripple, while another kindly
administers a glass of comfort to her companion as a sure relief
against reflection. The rest of the windows are crowded with similar
characters, and upon the house-top is a Cat coterie, a fair emblem of
the company in the apartments beneath.

The substance of the preceding remarks are, in this as in the first
edition, taken from the _Student_, vol. ii. p. 162, and were made by
the late Bonnell Thornton. In the _Old Woman's Magazine_, Doctor Hill
has given an explanation which places it in a point of view somewhat
different; I have therefore subjoined the greatest part of it.

  _To the Editor._

  "SIR,--As you desire my sentiments on Mr. Hogarth's picture, I
  shall begin with pointing out what is most defective. Its first
  and greatest fault, then, is its being new, and having too great
  a resemblance to the objects it represents: if this appears a
  paradox, you ought to take particular care of confessing it.
  This picture has yet too much of that lustre,--that despicable
  freshness which we discover in nature, and which is never seen
  in the celebrated cabinets of the curious. Time has not yet
  obscured it with that venerable smoke, that sacred cloud which
  will one day conceal it from the profane eyes of the vulgar, that
  its beauties may only be seen by those who are initiated in the
  mysteries of art. These are its most remarkable faults: and I
  am next going to give you an idea of the subject, which is the
  march of some companies of the foot guards to their rendezvous at
  Finchley Common, when sent against the Scottish rebels, who were
  advancing on that side.

  "Mr. Hogarth, who lets no opportunity escape him of observing the
  picturesque scenes which numerous assemblies frequently furnish,
  has not failed to represent them on the spot where he has drawn
  the scene of his picture.

  "The painter is remarkable for a particular sagacity in seizing
  a thousand little circumstances which escape the observation of
  the greatest part of the spectators, and it is a collection of a
  number of those circumstances which has composed, enriched, and
  diversified his work.

  "The scene is placed at Tottenham Court, where, in a distant
  view, is seen a file of soldiers marching in tolerable order up
  the hill. Discipline is less observed in the principal design;
  but if you complain of this, I must ingeniously inform you,
  that order and subordination belong only to slaves; for what
  everywhere else is called licentiousness, assumes here the
  venerable name of liberty.

  "A young grenadier, of a good mien, makes the principal figure in
  the first group; he is accompanied, or rather seized and beset,
  by two women, one of whom is a ballad-singer, and the other a
  news-hawker: they are both with child, and claim this hero as the
  father, and except this circumstance they have nothing in common;
  for their figures, their humours, their characters, appear
  extremely different: they are even of opposite parties, for the
  one disposes of works in favour of the Government, and the other
  against it.

  "On the left hand of this group is an officer embracing a
  milk-woman; but her greatest misfortune is, not her being hugged
  by a young cavalier, but in having one of her milk-pails seized
  by a wag, who pours her milk into a hat, while he is pretending
  to defend her. Near them is a pieman, who is mightily rejoiced
  at this roguery; while a soldier, who is fleering in his face,
  slily steals the pies he carries on his head. The humour of this
  group is greatly heightened by a chimney-sweeper's boy, who comes
  laughing to receive some of the milk into his hat, which he
  carries in his hand.

  "On the right hand of the principal group is a Frenchman, who, to
  give him a more ridiculous appearance, is represented as a man of
  some importance. He is speaking to a very odd person, to whom he
  seems communicating the contents of some letters relative to the
  event which is the cause of this march.

  "Behind the Frenchman just mentioned is seen an old sutler, who
  carries her child at her back, and is smoking a short pipe. In
  the front, at a small distance, is a drummer, who by the noise
  of his drum seems to endeavour to stun all thoughts of the fate
  of his family, who seek in vain to soften him by taking a tender
  leave.

  "One of the young pipers whom the Duke of Cumberland has
  introduced into several regiments, joins his noise to that of the
  drum, and by the agreeable appearance of his little person, is a
  contrast to the rudeness of the objects who are near him, etc.
  etc."

To the dramatic effect of the picture, the late Mr. Arthur Murphy,
whose acknowledged judgment give weight to his praise, bears the
following honourable testimony in the _Gray's Inn Journal_, vol. i.
No. 20:--

  "The era may arrive, when, through the instability of the English
  language, the style of _Joseph Andrews_ and _Tom Jones_ shall
  be obliterated, when the characters shall be unintelligible,
  and the humour lose its relish; but the many personages which
  the manner-painting hand of Hogarth has called forth into mimic
  life will not fade so soon from the canvas, and that admirable
  picturesque comedy, 'The March to Finchley,' will perhaps divert
  posterity as long as the Foundling Hospital shall do honour to
  the British nation."



THE INVASION; OR, FRANCE AND ENGLAND.


In the two following designs Mr. Hogarth has displayed that
partiality for his own country, and contempt for France, which formed
a strong trait in his character. He neither forgot nor forgave the
insults he suffered at Calais, though he did not recollect that this
treatment originated in his own ill-humour, which threw a sombre
shade over every object that presented itself. Having early imbibed
the vulgar prejudice that one Englishman was a match for four
Frenchmen,[96] he thought it would be doing his country a service
to prove the position. How far it is either useful or political to
depreciate the power or degrade the character of that people with
whom we are to contend, is a question which does not come within the
plan of this work. In some cases it may create confidence, but in
others leads to the indulgence of that negligent security by which
armies have been slaughtered, provinces depopulated, and kingdoms
changed their rulers.

These two glaring contrasts were designed at a time when there was a
rumour of an invasion from France. The sober politician treated this
idle report with contempt; but by the credulous it was believed, and
the timid trembled when they heard it. To dispel this phantom of the
day was one motive for Hogarth's publication of these prints. They
are not addressed to the philosopher or the legislator, but to the
soldier and the sailor. They are not designed for the contemplation
of the informed and travelled man, who considers himself as a citizen
of the world; but for the true-born and true-bred Briton, that
believes this to be the only country where man can enjoy happiness,
and thinks an Englishman is the boast of the universe, the glory of
creation, and the paragon of nature!


PLATE I.

FRANCE.

      "With lantern jaws, and croaking gut,
      See how the half-starv'd Frenchmen strut,
        And call us English dogs!
      But soon we'll teach these bragging foes,
      That beef and beer give heavier blows
        Than soup and roasted frogs.

      "The priests, inflam'd with righteous hopes,
      Prepare their axes, wheels, and ropes,
        To bend the stiff-neck'd sinner;
      But should they sink in coming over,
      Old Nick may fish 'twixt France and Dover,
        And catch a glorious dinner."

[Illustration: FRANCE PLATE I.]

The scenes of all Mr. Hogarth's prints, except "The Gate of Calais"
and that now under consideration, are laid in England. In this,
having quitted his own country, he seems to think himself out of the
reach of the critics, and in delineating a Frenchman, at liberty to
depart from nature, and sport in the fairy regions of caricature.
Were these Gallic soldiers naked, each of them would appear like a
forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife.
So forlorn! that to any thick sight he would be invisible! To see
this miserable woe-begone refuse of the army, who look like a group
detached from the main body and put on the sick-list, embarking to
conquer a neighbouring kingdom, is ridiculous enough, and at the
time of publication must have had great effect. The artist seemed
sensible that it was necessary to account for the unsubstantial
appearance of these shadows of men, and has hinted at their want of
solid food, in the bare bones of beef hung up in the window, the
inscription on the alehouse sign, "Soup maigre à la sabot Royal,"
and the spider-like officer roasting four frogs which he has impaled
upon his sword. Such light and airy diet is whimsically opposed by
the motto on the standard, which two of the most valorous of this
ghastly troop are hailing with grim delight and loud exultation.
It is indeed an attractive motto, and well calculated to inspire
this famishing company with courage: "Vengeance, avec le bon bier,
et bon beuf d'Angleterre." However meagre the military, the church
militant is in no danger of starving. The portly friar is neither
emaciated by fasting, nor weakened by penance. Anticipating the
glory of extirpating heresy, he is feeling the sharp edge of an axe
to be employed in the decollation of the enemies to the true faith,
which if any one doubt, he shall die the death. A sledge is laden
with whips, wheels, ropes, chains, gibbets, and other inquisitorial
engines of torture, which are admirably calculated for the
propagation of a religion that was established in meekness and mercy,
and inculcates universal charity and forbearance. On the same sledge
is an image of St. Anthony, very properly accompanied by his pig,
and the plan of a monastery to be built at Blackfriars.

In the background are a troop of soldiers so averse to this English
expedition, that their sergeant is obliged to goad them forward with
his halberd. To intimate that agriculture suffers by the invasion
having engaged the masculine inhabitants, two women ploughing a
sterile promontory in the distance complete this catalogue of
wretchedness, misery, and famine.


PLATE II

ENGLAND.

      "See John the Soldier, Jack the Tar,
      With sword and pistol arm'd for war,
        Should _Mounseer_ dare come here;
      The hungry slaves have smelt our food,
      They long to taste our flesh and blood,
        Old England's beef and beer!

      "Britons, to arms! and let 'em come;
      Be you but Britons still, strike home,
        And lion-like attack 'em,
      No power can stand the deadly stroke
      That's given from hands and hearts of oak,
        With liberty to back 'em."

[Illustration: ENGLAND PLATE II.]

From the unpropitious regions of France, our scene changes to the
fertile fields of England.

      "England! bound in with the triumphant sea,
      Whose rocky shores beat back the envious siege
      Of wat'ry Neptune."

Instead of the forlorn and famished party who were represented in
the last plate, we here see a company of well-fed and high-spirited
Britons, marked with all the hardihood of ancient times, and eager to
defend their country.

In the first group, a young peasant who aspires to a niche in the
Temple of Fame, preferring the service of Mars to that of Ceres, and
the dignified appellation of soldier to the plebeian name of farmer,
offers to enlist. Standing with his back against the halberd to
ascertain his height, and finding he is rather under the mark,[97] he
endeavours to reach it by rising on tiptoe. This artifice, to which
he is impelled by _towering ambition_, the sergeant seems disposed to
connive at--and the sergeant is a hero, and a great man in his way;
"your hero always must be tall, you know."

To evince that the polite arts were then in a flourishing state, and
cultivated by more than the immediate professors, a gentleman artist,
who to common eyes must pass for a grenadier, is making a caricature
of _le Grand Monarque_. The sovereign of France was in that day as
general a subject for copper satire as Mr. Fox is in this. I have
seen engravings, where his Gallic Majesty made one of the party,
that were not a degree better than the grenadier's drawing, where,
to render the meaning obvious, and supply the want of character, or
story, every figure had a label hanging to its mouth. That given to
this king of shreds and patches is worthy the speaker, and worthy
observation: "You take a my fine ships: you be de pirate; you be de
teef: me send my grand armies, and hang you all."

The action is suited to the word, for with his left hand this most
Christian potentate grasps his sword, and in his right poises a
gibbet. The figure and motto united, produce a roar of approbation
from the soldier and sailor, who are criticising the work. It is
so natural, that the Helen and Briseis of the camp contemplate the
performance with apparent delight; and while one of them with her
apron measures the breadth of this Herculean painter's shoulders,
the other, to show that the performance _has some point_, places her
forefinger against the prongs of a fork. The little fifer, playing
that animated and inspiring tune "God save the King," is an old
acquaintance: we recollect him in "The March to Finchley." In the
background is a sergeant teaching a company of young recruits their
manual exercise.

This military meeting is held at the sign of the gallant Duke of
Cumberland, who is mounted upon a prancing charger,

      "As if an angel dropt down from the clouds,
      To turn and wield a fiery Pegasus,
      And witch the world with noble horsemanship."[98]

Underneath is inscribed, "Roast and boiled every day;" which, with
the beef and beverage upon the table, forms a fine contrast to the
_soup maigre_, bare bones, and roasted frogs, in the last print. The
bottle painted on the wall, foaming with liquor which, impatient
of imprisonment, has burst its cerements, must be an irresistible
invitation to a thirsty traveller. The soldier's sword laid upon
the round of beef, and the sailor's pistol on the vessel containing
the ale, intimate that these great bulwarks of our island are as
tenacious of their beef and beer as of their religion and liberty.

These two plates were published in 1756; but in the _London
Chronicle_ for October 20, 1759, is the following advertisement:--

  "This day are re-published, price 1s. each, Two prints designed
  and etched by William Hogarth: one representing the preparations
  on the French coast for an intended invasion; the other, a view
  of the preparations making in England to oppose the wicked
  designs of our enemies; proper to be stuck up in public places,
  both in town and country, at this juncture."[99]

The verses which are inserted under each print, and subjoined to this
account, are, it must be acknowledged, coarse enough. They were,
however, written by David Garrick, who, had he thought the subject
worthy of his muse, could, I believe, have produced more elegant
stanzas.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



THE COCKPIT.

  "It is worth your while to come to England, were it only to
  see an election and a cock-match. There is a celestial spirit
  of anarchy and confusion in these two scenes that words cannot
  paint, and of which no countryman of yours can form even an
  idea."--_Sherlock's Letters to a friend at Paris._

[Illustration: THE COCKPIT.]


Mr. Sherlock is perfectly right in his assertion, that neither of
these scenes can be described by words; but where the writer must
have failed, the artist has succeeded, and the Parisian who has never
visited England may, from Mr. Hogarth's Prints, form a tolerably
correct idea of the anarchy of an election, and the confusion
of a cockpit. To the right learned and laborious successors of
Master Thomas Hearne, it would be matter of curious speculation,
and worthy of deep research, to inquire which of these "popular
sportes was fyrste practysed in fair Englonde." To their grave and
useful investigations I leave the decision of this knotty point.
The earliest information of this _gentile_ and _royal_ game which
my reading supplies, I find in a treatise, published in 1674, and
entitled _The Complete Gamester_, containing instructions how to play
at Billiards, Trucks, Bowls, Chess, etc. "To which is added, The
Artes and Mysteries of Riding, Racing, Archery, and Cock Fighting.
Printed by A. M. for R. Cutler, and to be sold by Henry Brome, at
the Gun, at the west end of St. Paul's." To this curious little
_vade mecum_ there is a frontispiece divided into five compartments.
One of them represents a cockpit, in the centre of which two of
the feathered tribe, not unlike ducks, are fighting. The pit is
surrounded by a company of crop-eared figures in round hats, with
faces as demure and sanctified as are to be seen at a Quakers'
meeting. Before many of these most sedate personages are heaps of
gold, and (alluding to the print) the following sublime verses:--

      "After these three, the cockpit claims a name;
      A sport _gentile_, and call'd a royal game.
      Now see the gallants crowd about the pit,
      And most are stock'd with money more than wit;
      Else sure they would not, with so great a stir,
      Lay ten to one on a cock's faithless spur."

To the respect which our ancestors had for this _kingly_ amusement,
the author beareth ample testimony in his 38th chapter, some extracts
from which I venture to insert, with the hope that they will be both
pleasant and profitable to the lovers of this very refined and humane
divertisement:--

  "It is a sport or pastime so full of delight and pleasure, that I
  know not any game in that respect is to be preferred before it;
  and since the fighting cock hath gained so great an estimation
  among the gentry, in respect to this noble recreation, I shall
  here propose it before all the other games of which I have afore
  succinctly discoursed. That, therefore, I may methodically give
  instructions to such as are unlearned, and add more knowledge
  to such who have already gained a competent proficiency in this
  pleasing art, I shall, as briefly as I can, give you information
  how you shall choose, breed, and diet the fighting cock, with
  what choice secrets are thereunto belonging, in order thus:--

  "In the election[100] of a fighting cock, there are four things
  principally to be considered; and they are: shape, colour,
  courage, and a sharp heel.

  "Observe the crowing of your chickens; if you find them crow too
  soon, that is, before six months old, or unseasonably, and that
  their crowing is clear and loud, fit them as soon as you can for
  the pot or spit, for they are infallible signs of cowardice and
  falsehood: on the contrary, the true and perfect cock is long
  before he obtaineth his voice, and when he hath got it, observeth
  his hours with the best judgment."

After much more which I have not room to insert, the author addeth,
"To conclude, make your choice of such a one that is of shape strong,
of colour good, of valour true, and of heel sharp and ready."

Leaving the book to the study of those whom it may concern, let us
now attend to the plate.

The scene is probably laid at Newmarket;[101] and in this motley
group of peers, pickpockets, butchers, jockeys, ratcatchers,
gentlemen,--gamblers of every denomination,--Lord Albemarle
Bertie,[102] being the principal figure, is entitled to precedence.
In a former print[103] we saw him an attendant at a boxing match;
and here he is president of a most respectable society assembled
at a cockpit. What rendered his Lordship's passion for amusements
of this nature very singular, was his being totally blind. In this
place he is beset by seven steady friends, five of whom at the same
instant offer to bet with him on the event of the battle. One of
them, a lineal descendant of Filch, taking advantage of his blindness
and negligence, endeavours to convey a bank note, deposited in our
dignified gambler's hat, to his own pocket. Of this ungentleman-like
attempt his Lordship is apprised by a ragged postboy and an honest
butcher: but so much engaged in the pronunciation of those important
words, "Done! done! done! done!" and the arrangement of his bets,
that he cannot attend to their hints; and it seems more than probable
that the stock will be _transferred_ and the note _negotiated_ in a
few seconds.

A very curious group surround the old nobleman, who is adorned
with a riband, a star, and a pair of spectacles. The whole weight
of an overgrown carpenter being laid upon his shoulder, forces our
illustrious personage upon a man beneath; who being thus driven
downward, falls upon a fourth; and the fourth, by the accumulated
pressure of this ponderous trio--composed of the _upper and lower
house_--loses his balance, and tumbling against the edge of the
partition, his head is broke, and his wig, shook from the seat of
reason, falls into the cockpit.

A man adjoining enters into the spirit of the battle--his whole
soul is engaged. From his distorted countenance and clasped hands,
we see that he feels every stroke given to his favourite bird in
his heart's core, ay, in his heart of hearts! A person at the old
Peer's left hand is likely to be a loser. Ill-humour, vexation, and
disappointment are painted in his countenance. The chimney-sweeper
above is the very quintessence of affectation. He has all the airs
and graces of a boarding-school miss. There are those who remember
the man, and declare that his character is not heightened in the
portrait. The sanctified Quaker adjoining, and the fellow beneath,
who, by the way, is a very similar figure to Captain Stab in "The
Rake's Progress," are finely contrasted.

A French marquis, on the other side, astonished at this being called
amusement, is exclaiming _Sauvages! sauvages! sauvages!_ Engrossed by
the scene, and opening his snuff-box rather carelessly, its contents
fall into the eyes of a man below, who, sneezing and swearing
alternately, imprecates bitter curses on this devil's dust, that
extorts from his inflamed eyes "a sea of melting pearls, which some
call tears."

Adjoining is an old cripple with a trumpet at his ear, and in this
trumpet a person in a bag-wig roars in a manner that cannot much
gratify the auricular nerves of his companions; but as for the object
to whom the voice is directed, he seems totally insensible to sounds,
and if judgment can be formed from appearances, might very composedly
stand close to the clock of St. Paul's Cathedral when it was striking
twelve.

The figure with a cock peeping out of a bag is said to be intended
for Jackson, a jockey. The gravity of this experienced veteran, and
the cool sedateness of a man registering the wagers, are well opposed
by the grinning woman behind, and the heated impetuosity of a fellow,
stripped to his shirt, throwing his coin upon the cockpit, and
offering to back Ginger against Pye for a guinea.

On the lower side, where there is only one tier of figures, a sort
of an apothecary, and a jockey, are stretching out their arms and
striking together the handles of their whips in token of a bet. An
hiccuping votary of Bacchus, displaying a half-emptied purse, is not
likely to possess it long; for an adroit professor of legerdemain has
taken aim with an hooked stick, and by one slight jerk will convey it
to his own pocket. The profession of a gentlemen in a round wig is
determined by a gibbet chalked upon his coat. An enraged barber, who
lifts up his stick in the corner, has probably been refused payment
of a wager by the man at whom he is striking.

A cloud-capt philosopher at the top of the print, coolly smoking
his pipe, unmoved by this crash of matter and wreck of property,
must not be overlooked: neither should his dog be neglected; for the
dog, gravely resting his fore-paws upon the partition,[104] and
contemplating the company, seems more interested in the event of the
battle than his master.

Like the tremendous Gog and terrific Magog of Guildhall, stand the
two cock-feeders; a foot of each of these consequential purveyors is
seen at the two extremities of the pit.

As to the birds whose attractive powers have drawn this admiring
throng together, they deserved earlier notice--

      "Each hero burns to conquer or to die,
      What mighty hearts in little bosoms lie!"

Having disposed of the substances, let us now attend to the shadow on
the cockpit, and this it seems is the reflection of a man drawn up
to the ceiling in a basket, and there suspended[105] as a punishment
for having betted more money than he can pay. Though suspended, he
is not reclaimed; though exposed, not abashed; for in this degrading
situation he offers to stake his watch against money in another wager
on his favourite champion.

The decorations of this curious theatre are, a portrait of Nan
Rawlins,[106] and the King's arms.

In the margin at the bottom of the print is an oval, with a fighting
cock, inscribed "Royal sport," and underneath it is written, "Pit
ticket."

Of the characteristic distinctions in this heterogeneous assembly, it
is not easy to speak with sufficient praise. The chimney-sweeper's
absurd affectation sets the similar airs of the Frenchman in a most
ridiculous point of view. The old fellow with a trumpet at his ear
has a degree of deafness that I never before saw delineated; he might
have lived in the same apartment with Xantippe, or slept comfortably
in Alexander the coppersmith's first floor. As to the nobleman in the
centre, in the language of the turf, he is a mere pigeon; and the
Peer, with a star and garter, in the language of Cambridge, we must
class as--a mere quiz. The man sneezing, you absolutely hear; and the
fellow stealing a bank note has all the outward and visible marks of
a perfect and accomplished pickpocket; Mercury himself could not do
that business in a more masterly style.

I hope it will not be thought irrelevant to my subject if I here name
a man whose periods have polished the English language, and given to
poesy a harmony before unknown.

To Alexander Pope, Hogarth had an early dislike. Pope was the friend
of Lord Burlington,--Lord Burlington was the patron of Kent, and Kent
was the rival of Sir James Thornhill, who was the father-in-law of
William Hogarth. In two of his miscellaneous prints, our mellifluous
poet is exhibited in very degrading situations. In one[107] he is
represented as whitewashing the gate of Burlington House, and in the
violence of his operation bespattering the carriage of his Grace of
Chandos, etc.; and in the other, picking John Gay's[108] pocket.

Had the artist been acquainted with a circumstance mentioned by Mr.
Tyers in his _Rhapsody_, our British Horace would very probably have
had a place in this group. Tyers tells us that "Pope, while living
with his father at Chiswick, before he went to Binfield, took great
delight in cock-fighting, and laid out all his schoolboy money, and
little perhaps it was, in buying fighting cocks. From this passion,
but surely not the play of a child, his mother had the dexterity to
wean him."

Admitting the fact, for which I have no other authority than the
pamphlet above quoted, it does not tell in favour of that delicate
and tender humanity which this elegant poet so much affected. On his
conduct to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, Lord Bolingbroke, Mr. Addison,
and Mr. Broome, I will make no comment; but his bitter satire on the
Duke of Chandos,[109] while it exalts his poetical powers, dishonours
his moral character. The animation, energy, and elegance of the
stanzas would atone for almost anything--but _ingratitude_!

Lord Orrery observes: "If we may judge of Mr. Pope from his works,
his chief aim was to be esteemed a man of virtue." When actions
can be clearly ascertained, it is not necessary to seek the mind's
construction in the writings; and I regret being compelled to believe
that some of Mr. Pope's actions, at the same time that they prove him
to be querulous and petulant, lead us to suspect that he was also
envious, malignant, and cruel. How far this will tend to confirm
the assertion, that when a boy he was an amateur[110] of this royal
sport,[111] I do not pretend to decide: but were a child in whom
I had any interest cursed with such a propensity, my first object
would be to correct it; if that were impracticable, and he retained
a fondness for the cockpit, and the still more detestable amusement
of Shrove Tuesday,[112] I should hardly dare to flatter myself that
he could become a merciful man. The subject has carried me further
than I intended. I will, however, take the freedom of proposing one
query to the consideration of the clergy, should any of that sacred
order do me the honour of perusing this volume. Might it not have a
tendency to check that barbarous spirit, which has more frequently
its source in an early acquired habit arising from the prevalence
of example than in natural depravity, if every divine in Great
Britain were to preach at least one sermon every twelve months on our
universal insensibility to the sufferings of the brute creation?[113]

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



CREDULITY, SUPERSTITION, AND FANATICISM.

A MEDLEY.

  "Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they
  are of God; because many false prophets are gone out into the
  world."--1 JOHN IV. 1.

[Illustration: CREDULITY SUPERSTITION AND FANATICISM.]


Whoever reads history with a view of tracing the progress of the
human mind,--which, by the way, is the great object that renders
history useful,--whoever reads history with that regard, must be
astonished and shocked at the slow progress of philosophy, and the
universal prevalence of credulity, superstition, and fanaticism. If
antiquity would give a claim to reverence, this destructive band
have a date prior to Christianity; their united power shed baneful
influence on the earliest ages.

In the pagan temples there was a kind of incantation for conjuring
down deities, to whom were assigned niches according to their
different degrees of rank. The histories of Greece and Rome (for
the sake of human nature, I wish that the parallel did not reach
modern times) display an innumerable host of all ages, sexes,
descriptions, and characters, enlisted under the banner of the
priesthood, together with a select _corps de reserve_ of augurs and
soothsayers, who, by inspecting the entrails of beasts, foretold
future events, and from the flight of birds the defeat of armies.
Succeeding ages beheld their heathen temples solemnly consecrated;
and being thus metamorphosed into Christian churches, the sculptures
representing Jupiter, Minerva, Venus, and Diana, by virtue of a new
baptism, became saints.[114]

Here also were a legion of arrogant priests, who insolently dictated
the terms of salvation, fixed a standard for universal belief, and
introduced their own inventions as divine precepts; who forced
monarchs to pay tribute by ecclesiastical privilege, assumed the
dominion of empires by divine right, and claimed three-fourths
of the known world as heirs-at-law to St. Peter. To secure their
acquisitions, they entrenched themselves behind ramparts raised on
the credulity and folly of mankind. He who attempted to scale these
hallowed mounds was deemed guilty of sacrilege; he who questioned
the catholic infallibility was an atheist; and whosoever doubted the
divine mission of a priest--an infidel.[115]

Finding the multitude were so well inclined to believe that whatever
they could not comprehend was supernatural, they construed each
phenomenon of nature into a portentous menace from Heaven. An eclipse
became the omen of a revolution; an inundation the prognostic of a
defeat; and an hurricane foretold the fall of every power that made
any opposition to papal authority. By arts like these, the people
were brought into a mental vassalage; and the powerful Baron having
previously enslaved their persons, they readily gave the care of
their souls to the confessor. To him they applied as the proper
interpreter of every difficult case; and fraught with a full portion
of credulity, each individual considered every cloud that passed over
the sun, and every raven that expanded its ebon wing, as bearing
some particular direction to himself. Hence arose the doctrine of
demonology; and apparitions, witches, dreams, and divinations,
formed a creed of superstition. On this was built that notable
system, properly enough called "The Philosophy of the Distaff." This
mythology of weak minds has been carried through every age and
country by oral tradition and unfounded record.

Our earliest histories abound in augury and prediction; the most
fabulous tales had credence, not only with the unlearned and
ignorant, but with the educated and sagacious. The grave Duke de
Sully seriously narrates those which had relation to Henry the Fourth.

It is recorded by Victorius Sirri, that Louis the Thirteenth was from
his infancy surnamed Just,--"because he was born under the sign of
the Balance!"

Even sorcery was made a leading branch of religion; and one of a
priest's duties was to exorcise ghosts by talking Latin, which was
considered as a never-failing antidote for a troublesome spirit, and
invariably concluded by the ghost being _laid in the Red Sea_.

Some of these glaring errors have been obliterated, but absurdities
of equal magnitude have supplied their place; and modern credulities
are nearly as destructive to the interests of society as ancient
superstitions.

Though this nation, as well as others, was at an early period
enveloped by ignorance, superstition, and their consequent
accompaniments, we had some right to expect the clouds would have
been dispelled by the Reformation; but credulity kept its ground,
and at a still later period--when we had a most learned and sedate
monarch, and a most sententious and grave Parliament--an Act was
passed for the punishment of witchcraft! By this sagacious union of
royal and national wisdom, if a woman lived to a greater age than her
neighbour, she was tried, proved guilty of commercing with a familiar
in the shape of a tabby cat, and eased of all her sufferings by the
ordeal of fire or water.

It is not many years since a fanatic in one of our colonies took a
fancy to accuse a neighbour of witchcraft: the crime was clearly
proved, and the poor culprit suffered according to law. In credulity
and superstition there is something epidemical. The contagion spread;
and this being found a summary process for removing a competitor
in trade, or revenging an insult, informations for sorcery became
frequent. Their sessions-house was crowded with witches, as is that
at the Old Bailey with pickpockets. It however brought fees, and so
far was well: but these sapient legislators at length discovered that
the province was likely to be depopulated; and what affected them
still more, their own fraternity were liable to the consequences.
A man, who had been cheated by his lawyer, made an affidavit that
said lawyer was a wizard. This was too much: the court had a special
meeting, and unanimously determined that they would not receive any
more informations against wizards. The bye-law had the effect of a
charm, and sorcery was no more!

Lord Bacon somewhere remarks that superstition is worse than atheism.
It takes from religion every attraction, every comfort; and the place
of humble hope and patient resignation is supplied by melancholy,
despair, and madness!

To the best minds, credulity is the source of much misery. Our
first Charles, who, with all his errors as a king, had the manners
and mind of a gentleman, was so much under its influence, that
he never enjoyed a day's happiness after consulting the _Sortes
Virgilianæ_.[116]

In our age--an age in many respects enlightened by the beams of
philosophy--the effects resulting from credulity, superstition,
and fanaticism are dreadful; but while the evils are contemplated
with horror, the system is too ridiculous for sober reasoning. It
induces the infatuated votary to believe that being in the pale of
a particular church will ensure his salvation. The ignorant are
confounded with metaphysical subtleties which the wisest cannot
comprehend; and by combining different texts of holy writ, we are
insulted with conclusions contrary to common sense.[117]

To check this inundation of absurdity, which deemed carnal reason
profane, and was not to be combated by argument, Mr. Hogarth engraved
this print; it contains what must ever operate as a complete
refutation of those who, because they were his opponents in politics,
have impudently asserted that he lost his talents in the decline
of life: for though the delineation was made in his sixty-fourth
year, in satire, wit, and imagination, it is superior to any of his
preceding works.

The text "I speak as a fool" is a type of the preacher, whose
strength of lungs is a convenient substitute for strength of
argument. He is literally a Boanerges; his tones rend the region,
and the thunder of his eloquence has cracked the sounding-board. His
right hand poises a witch astride upon a broom-stick, and in his
left he suspends an emissary of Satan: this embryotic demon wields a
gridiron as a terror to the ungodly, and at the witch's breast is an
incubus in the shape of a cat.[118] Considering action as the first
requisite of an orator, our ecclesiastical juggler throws his whole
frame into convulsions: he shakes as the lofty cedar in a storm. Like
Milton's devil,

      "With head, hands, wings, or feet, he works his way,
      And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies."

By these violent agitations his gown flies open, and discovers that
this Proteus of the pulpit is arrayed in a Harlequin's jacket; and
his wig falling off, displays the shaven crown of a Jesuit. But
the loss of a periwig is not attended to, his denunciations are
redoubled, his fulminations hurled indiscriminately around; he
scatters about firebrands; and darts, pointed with destruction,
and barbed with death, pierce the hearts of his terrified hearers.
Wrought up to the highest pitch of seraphic fervour, fevered by the
heat of his own ecstasies,--the whole man is inspired,--and mounted
upon the clouds of mystery, he soars through the dark regions of
superstition, settles in the third heaven, and breathes empyreal air.

The train is fired,--the contagion spreads, the cup of delusion is
filled to the brim, and each of his infatuated auditors intoxicated
with the fumes of enthusiastic madness.

          "Broken each link of reason's chain,
      Witchcraft and magic hold their reign;
      Terror and comfortless despair,
      And fond credulity is there.
      Circling all nature's vast profound,
      Imagination takes her round,
      Starting at spectres,--painting fairies,
      Fancy, with all her wild vagaries,
      Dances on enchanted ground.
      Now with wings sublime she flies
      Where planets roll in azure skies;
      Now o'er clouds where tempests low'r,
      To where the rushing waters pour:
      Thence through the vasty void descends,
      Where Chaos warring atoms blends,
      To darksome caves of deepest hell,
      Where sullen ghosts and torturing demons dwell."

With a postboy's cap upon his head, to denote that he is a special
messenger from above, a little cherubimic Mercury flies through the
clouds, and bears in his mouth an express directed to Saint Money
Trapp.

Immediately beneath the pulpit are two lambs of the flock in an
ecstasy. The young man with a round head of hair is probably a lay
preacher; for though he has not a sable coat, he has a black collar.
Piously entreating a young maiden, who meets his advances with an
holy zeal, he puts the waxen model of a female saint down her bosom.

In the same pew are two fellows very differently affected: one of
them, with a despairing countenance, sheds iron tears; the other,
like the wet sea-boy on the mast, sleeps through the terrors of the
storm, though a malignant imp of darkness, envying his serenity,
endeavours to awake him by a whisper,[119] that he also may share
such curses as would serve for a supplement to St. Ernulphus.[120]

Between two duck-winged cherubs, who are studying the laughing
and crying gamut, is the harpy clerk. This crook-mouthed echo of
absurdity, and associate in villany, has the true physiognomy of a
Tartuffe: every feature is charged with hypocrisy.

The congregation,[121] many of whom have been imported from Liffey's
verdant banks, bear their parts in this enchanting serenade; and the
bull roar of the preacher, combined with a chorus of sighs, groans,
and shrieks, must produce a symphony that might vie with the Irish
howl or Indian war-whoop.

Among the crowd we discover a youthful convert under the guidance
of his spiritual confessor,[122] who, pointing to Brimstone Ocean,
unfolds a tale which terrifies his disciple to a degree that

      "Must harrow up his soul; freeze his young blood;
      Make his two eyes like stars start from their spheres;
      His knotty and combined locks to part,
      And each particular hair to stand on end,
      Like quills upon the fretful porcupine."

The sanguinary Jew, while he leans upon an altar, on which lies a
knife inscribed "bloody," sacrifices to his revenge an unfortunate
insect which he caught carelessly wandering on the environs of his
head.

Beneath is Mrs. Tofts, of Godalming, well known in the annals of
credulity; in the violence of her paroxysm, she breaks a dram glass
with her teeth.[123]

Next to Mrs. Tofts is a possessed shoeblack, coolly clearing his
stomach of a quantity of hob-nails and iron staples.[124] In his hand
he holds a quart bottle, in which the model of a spirit is closely
cribbed--confin'd; but the imprisoned sprite forcing the cork,
mounts into the regions of air with a lighted taper in its hand.[125]
The book on which our sable professor of necromancy has deposited his
basket, is King James's _Demonology_;[126] this, with Whitfield's
_Journal_, which lies among the implements of his art, covertly
intimate the sources where he had sought and found inspiration.

The ridicule is wound up by a Turk, whom we see through a window
smoking his tube of Trinidado; lifting up his eyes with astonishment
at the scene, he breathes a grateful ejaculation, and thanks his
Maker that he was early initiated in the divine truths of the Koran,
is out of the pale of this church, and has his name engraven on the
tablets of Mahomet.

As all the decorations which are displayed in this temple of
credulity, superstition, and fanaticism are suitable to the
congregation, the carved figures on the pulpit are worthy of
the preacher. We are in the first compartment presented with
the apparition which warned Sir George Villiers of the Duke
of Buckingham's danger from the knife of Felton;[127] in the
second, with Julius Cæsar's ghost reproaching Brutus; and in
the third, with the ghost of Mrs. Veale, which appeared to Mrs.
Bargrave,[128]--because a very large impression of _Drelincourt upon
Death_ lay in the bookseller's warehouse, and would not move without
a marvellous relation of an apparition.

Beneath is a figure of the Tedworth drummer, who so wickedly
disturbed the family of Mr. Mompesson;[129] and in the frame
below, a representation of Fanny, the phantom of Cock Lane, with
her hammer in her right hand. These two notable memorials of
credulity are placed as a kind of headpiece to a mental thermometer,
which ascertains the different degrees of heat in the blood of an
enthusiast. When the liquid ascends, it rises from lukewarm to
love-heat,--ecstasy! convulsion fits,--madness,--and terminates in
raving, which is properly obscured by clouds, and above the ken of
human comprehension. In its falling state, the progress of religious
depression is most accurately marked. From low spirits it sinks to
sorrow, agony, settled grief, despair, madness,--suicide! The whole
rests on Wesley's _Sermons_, and Glanville _On Witches_.[130]

On the preacher's left hand, suspended to a ring inserted in a human
nostril, hangs the scale of vociferation. A _natural tone_ is at the
bottom, but the _speaker's tone_ is described by the distended mouth
above the scale, crying Blood! blood! blood! and inscribed "Bull
roar."

To the hook of the chandelier hangs a small sphere, on which is
engraven, "Desarts of new Purgatory." On the globe, out of which
spring the branches for candles, is written, "A globe of hell, as
newly drawn by R----ne" (Romaine). It is so formed as to give the
caricature of a human face, and baptized "Horrid Zone." Round one
of the eyes is inscribed "The Bottomless Pit;" round the other,
"Molten-lead Lake." On one cheek is "Brimstone Ocean;" on the other,
"Parts Unknown;" and round the mouth, "Eternal Damnation Gulf."
Horribly profane as are these mottoes, they are mere copies of
Tabernacle phraseology. In the same class comes the hymn, which is
placed before the clerk:

      "Only _love_ to us be given;
      Lord, we ask no other heaven."[131]

The poor's box is a mouse-trap, which very fairly intimates that
whatever money is deposited will be secured for the _faithful
collectors_. It may be further meant to insinuate, that whosoever is
caught in this necromantic snare will be in the state of Sterne's
starling, and cannot get out, for it is planted with pointed steel,
and tears in pieces those who attempt an escape.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



THE TIMES.


PLATE I.

      "The gods of old were logs of wood,
        And worship was to puppets paid:
      In antic dress the puppet stood,
        And priests and people bow'd the head."

[Illustration: THE TIMES. PLATE I.]

There are three things of which your Englishman deems himself the
best of all possible judges: the art of stirring a fire, religion,
and politics. His infallibility in the first no one will presume to
question, except his wife; and with her he will dispute as long as
disputing is good. The mysteries of the second he understands better
than the Archbishop of Canterbury. As to the intricacies of the
third, which thinking men are apt to consider in some degree hidden
from those who are not admitted into the arcana, he can unravel them
with more ease, and point out with more precision what steps ought to
be taken, than can the Prime Minister, with all the aggregate wisdom
of the Cabinet.

So many of his Majesty's good subjects being thus gifted with an
intuitive knowledge of state affairs, it is no wonder that Britain
holds so high a rank among the nations; for each act of government is
stated and debated, not only in the two Houses of Parliament, but in
every tavern, coffeehouse, and porter-house in the metropolis.

To these eloquent leaders of the numerous clubs, we may add a myriad
of political writers, who are all but inspired. Without studying
either Machiavel, Locke, or Sidney, they pour forth a torrent of
lucubrations on the floating subjects of the hour; that hour past,
their letters, replies, remarks, and rejoinders are heard of no more.

In the hope of giving their puny offspring a longer life, some of
these learned Thebans, or their booksellers, called in the aid
of artists, to adorn their labours with _taking_ frontispieces.
These graphic ornaments were in general about as _lively_ as the
pamphlets they decorated; and it was found that the united efforts of
author, printer, painter, engraver, and publisher, could not ensure
immortality. Notwithstanding this general failure in their intended
operation, they had one very awkward effect. A sort of political
influenza was communicated to our engravers, and they also became
deep statesmen and profound politicians. While part of this band
sharpened their burins, and defaced much good copper in caricaturing
the members of administration, their opponents were equally
industrious, and equally pointed, in _taking off_ the _honourable
gentlemen_ on the other side of the house.

The buzzing of these insects of a day was little attended to: their
dulness preserved them from laughter, their weakness protected them
from resentment; they excited no passion except contempt.

Very different was the public expectation when it was found that
Hogarth intended to publish a series of political prints. From his
former productions they knew his powers, and considered him as able
to throw any party into ridicule. That which he was expected to
attack dreaded the strength of his aquafortis, which they apprehended
would have the effect of a caustic, not only on his copper, but on
the objects of his satire.

Previous to the publication of "The Times," Mr. Wilkes, who was then
at Aylesbury, was informed that the print was political, and that
Lord Temple, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Churchill, and himself, were the leading
characters held up to ridicule. Under the impression which this
intelligence conveyed, he sent Mr. Hogarth a remonstrance, stating
the ungenerous tendency of such a proceeding; which would be more
glaringly unfriendly, as the two last-mentioned gentlemen and the
artist had always lived upon terms of strict intimacy. This produced
a reply, in which Hogarth asserted that neither Mr. Wilkes nor Mr.
Churchill were introduced, but Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt were, and
the print should be published in a few days. To this it was answered,
that Mr. Wilkes would hardly deem it worth while to notice any
reflections on himself; but if his friends were attacked, it would
wound him in the most sensible part, and, well as he was able, he
should revenge their cause. This was a direct declaration of war: the
black flag was hoisted on both sides, and never did two angry men of
their abilities throw mud with less dexterity.

"The Times" was soon after published, and on the Saturday following,
in No. 17 of the _North Briton_, a most unmerciful attack was
directed against the King's Serjeant Painter. Since that period,
marvellous have been the variations of the patriotic needle; the
Colonel of the Buckinghamshire Militia has filled the first offices
in the city of London, and is now become chamberlain. Having in
these situations seen the errors of his former politics, he would,
I must think, be the first to acknowledge that the attack was not
only unmerciful, but in many respects unjust. The hand of time having
worn down political asperities, I hope--I believe--Mr. Wilkes will
have no objection to this nettle, forced in the hotbed of a party,
being plucked from that hallowed sod which covers the dust of William
Hogarth.

Should the artist and the chamberlain meet in Elysium, why may
they not drink oblivion to former feuds in a glass of Lethe? The
chamberlain would, I fancy, prefer champagne; but when a gentleman
travels in a strange country, he must take up with such beverage as
the place affords.

The attack commences with a ridicule of the _Analysis of Beauty_, or
rather of Hogarth's honesty in acknowledging that he was indebted to
a friend for a third part of the wording. The artist was sensible of
his own strength; but what is much more rare, he was conscious of
his own weakness. He knew the principles of his art; but not being
accustomed to explaining them with a pen, very prudently asked the
aid of those who were, to give his ideas such language as would
render them worthy public attention. This was at least honest; but as
the author of the _North Briton_ presents us with only part of the
apology, let us do the artist justice by inserting the whole.

After some leading remarks on the system which it was his wish to
establish, he continues as follows:--

"But observing in the fore-mentioned controversies that the torrent
generally ran against me, and that several of my opponents had turned
my arguments into ridicule, yet were daily availing themselves of
their use, and venting them even to my face as their own, I began to
wish the publication of something on this subject; and accordingly
applied myself to several of my friends, whom I thought capable of
taking up the pen for me, offering to furnish them with materials
by word of mouth. But finding this method not practicable, from the
difficulty of one man's expressing the ideas of another, especially
on a subject which he was either unacquainted with, or was new in its
kind, I was therefore reduced to an attempt of finding such words as
would best answer my own ideas, being now too far engaged to drop the
design. Hereupon, having digested the matter as well as I could, and
thrown it into the form of a book, I submitted it to the judgment
of such friends whose sincerity and abilities I could best rely on,
determining on their approbation or dislike to publish or destroy
it. But their favourable opinion of the manuscript being publicly
known, it gave such a credit to the undertaking as soon changed the
countenances of those who had a better opinion of my pencil than
my pen, and turned their sneers into expectation, especially when
the same friends had kindly made me an offer of conducting the work
through the press; and here I must acknowledge myself particularly
indebted to one gentleman for his corrections and amendments of
at least a third part of the wording. Through his absence and
avocation, several sheets went to the press without any assistance,
and the rest had the occasional inspection of one or two friends.
If any inaccuracies shall be found in the writing, I shall readily
acknowledge them all my own, and am, I confess, under no great
concern about them, provided the matter in general may be useful
and answerable, in the application of it, to truth and to nature; in
which material points if the reader shall think fit to rectify any
mistakes, it will give me a sensible pleasure, and be doing great
honour to the work."--_Preface to Analysis_, p. 20, edit of 1772.

The author of the _North Briton_ continues: "We all titter the
instant he takes up a pen, but we tremble when we see the pencil in
his hand."

As this essay was written in consequence of the artist giving a
pictured shape, it seems rather extraordinary that so good a logician
as Mr. Wilkes should drag in Hogarth's pen merely to titter at, and
acknowledge that he trembles at his pencil, which instrument, by the
way, drew forth this paper:--

"I will do him the justice to say, that he possesses the rare talent
of gibbeting in colours, and that in most of his works he has been
a very good moral satirist." That he has, it is most true. "His
forte is there, and he should have kept it. When he has at any time
deviated from his own peculiar walk, he has never failed to make
himself perfectly ridiculous. I need only make my appeal to any one
of his historical or portrait pieces, which are now considered as
almost beneath all criticism."

_Some_ of his portraits might have been exempted from this censure:
what does Mr. Wilkes think of Captain Coram, now in the Foundling
Hospital?

"The favourite 'Sigismunda,' the labour of so many years, the boasted
effort of his art, was not human. If the figure had a resemblance
of anything ever on earth, or had the least pretence to meaning
or expression, it was what he had seen, or perhaps made, in real
life, his own wife in an agony of passion, but of what passion no
connoisseur could guess."

After asserting that the figure was not human, this is rather too
much! From any gentleman, the daughter of Sir James Thornhill
had a claim to more politeness; but that so gallant a man as
Colonel Wilkes--a perfect knight-errant in all that related to the
sex--should make an estimable and respectable woman a party "in the
poor politics of the day, and descend to low personal abuse" (I use
his own language), because her husband had in these poor politics
adopted an opposite creed, excites astonishment!

Had this transaction passed in the year 1791, instead of the year
1762, it would have been less extraordinary; for, alas,

      "The days of chivalry are no more."[132]

"All his friends remember what tiresome discourses were held by him,
day after day, about the transcendent merit of this 'Sigismunda,' and
how the great names of Raphael, Vandyke, and others, were made to
yield the palm of beauty, grace, expression, etc. to him, for this
long-laboured yet uninteresting single figure. The value he himself
set on this, as well as on some other of his works, almost exceeds
belief; yet from politeness, or fear, or some other motives, he has
actually been paid the most astonishing sums, as the price, not of
his merit, but of his unbounded vanity."

That the artist demanded too high a price for his painting of
"Sigismunda," I am free to acknowledge; but it has not been peculiar
to Mr. Hogarth to mistake his talents, and overrate his worst
performances. Mr. Wilkes must know that Milton, and many other great
men, have erred in the same way. I do not think that "Sigismunda"
was worth what he required; but that he has actually been paid the
most astonishing sums for his other pictures, as the price, not
of his merit, but of his unbounded vanity, I am yet to learn. The
remuneration he received for many of his works is to be found in
these volumes; it was seldom in any degree equal to their merits.
The painter is no more, but several of his pictures remain; and were
the "Marriage à la Mode," "Rake's Progress," etc., now upon sale,
the present age would, I am persuaded, sanction my opinion, and the
pictures produce much more astonishing sums than were originally paid
to the artist.

"He has succeeded very happily in the way of humour, and has
miscarried in every other attempt; this has arisen in some measure
from his head, but much more from his heart. After 'Marriage à la
Mode,' the public wished for a series of prints of a Happy Marriage.
Hogarth made the attempt; but the rancour and malevolence of his mind
made him soon turn away with envy and disgust from objects of so
pleasing contemplation, to dwell, and feast a bad heart, on others of
a hateful cast, which he pursued, for he found them congenial, with
the most unabating zeal and unrelenting gall."

Should any one assert that the strength of colouring, and astonishing
powers, which gave the name of Churchill so exalted a rank among
satirists, originated in malevolence and rancour, and that he could
not write a panegyric because he delighted in feasting a bad heart on
a bad theme, Mr. Wilkes would, I am certain, be the first to defend
him from such an aspersion.

That he did not succeed in an attempt to delineate a Happy Marriage,
I can readily believe. Hogarth was a painter of manners as they were,
not as they ought to be. He considered nature in the abstract, and
usually adhered to what he saw. Among those friends with whom Hogarth
lived in habits of intimacy, and whose domestic situations he had the
best opportunity of studying,--though Mr. Churchill and the Colonel
were of the number,--he might not know a family from whence such a
scene could be copied.

"I have observed some time his setting sun. He has long been very
dim, and almost shorn of his beams."

For a confirmation of the above assertion, see the print of "The
Medley," published this very year. My opinion of it the reader is
already in possession of, and that opinion corresponds with an
authority which, I believe, even Mr. Wilkes will consider as very
high:--"For useful and deep satire, 'The Medley' is the most sublime
of all Hogarth's works."--_Walpole._

"He seems so conscious of this (_i.e._ that his sun is setting, etc.)
that he now glimmers with borrowed light. 'John Bull's house in
flames' has been hackneyed in fifty different prints; and if there is
any merit in the figure on stilts, and the mob prancing around, it is
not to be ascribed to Hogarth, but to Callot."

Callot's was, I acknowledge, the first thought, but Sir Joshua
Reynolds will tell Mr. Wilkes that happy appropriation is not
plagiarism.

"I own, too, that I am grieved to see the genius of Hogarth, which
should take in all ages and countries, sunk to a level with the
miserable tribe of party-etchers, and now in his rapid decline
entering into the poor politics of the faction of the day, and
descending into low personal abuse, instead of instructing the world,
as he could once, by manly moral satire."

I too am grieved that Hogarth, or any other man of talents, should
descend to the poor politics of the faction of the day. But be it
remarked, that this was the first political print he designed; and
if so contemptible as it was before stated to be, it is rather
singular that this one little satire, the first he engraved on the
subject, and "destitute of every kind of original merit, in every
part confused, perplexed, and embarrassed, where the story is not
well told to the eye, and where we cannot discover the faintest ray
of genius," should excite so warm a resentment.

Mr. Wilkes goes on to ask, "Whence can proceed so surprising a
change? Is it from the frowardness of old age? or is it that envy and
impatience of resplendent merit in every way, at which he has always
sickened? How often has he been remarked to droop at the fair and
honest applause given even to a friend?" etc.

I am told, by those who lived in habits of intimacy with Mr.
Hogarth--never! But let us remember, that what is deemed fair and
honest applause by the person who receives it, may by an impartial
spectator be thought more than he is entitled to.

"It is sufficient that the rest of mankind applaud; from that moment
he begins the attack, and you never can be well with him, till he
hears an universal outcry against you, and till all your friends have
given you up."

That Hogarth should have wished to render a man infamous in the eyes
of society, before he would admit him to the honour of his regards,
is a paradox I cannot solve. I believe this kind of preparation for
friendship was never practised by any other person, of any age or
country.

"The public had never the least share of Hogarth's regard, or even
goodwill. Gain and vanity have steered his little bark quite through
life. He has never been consistent but with respect to these two
principles."

Hogarth was no hypocrite. By the word "public," is frequently meant
that party who are immersed in the violent factions of the day. For
them he never professed goodwill. But if by the public is meant
society in its various branches and different ranks, almost all his
works had as great a tendency to make the world wiser and better,
as had those of men who made more violent professions. His little
bark having been steered through life by gain and vanity, I hardly
know how to understand. He lived a long and laborious life; he was
admitted to be the first, the very first, in his walk; and died
worth a sum that a Jew broker will acquire before breakfast. As to
vanity,--of talents superior to any other artist,--he had a right to
be vain.

"But all genius was not born, nor will it die, with Mr. Hogarth;
and notwithstanding all his ungenerous efforts to damp or chill it
in another, I will trust to a discerning and liberal spirit in the
English nation to patronize and reward all real merit. It will in the
end rise superior to the idle laugh of the hour," etc.

Of this discerning and liberal spirit there is not a stronger
instance than the estimation in which Hogarth's works, not excepting
the _Analysis_ (however it may be worded), are held thirty years
after the publication of the _North Briton_.

"In the year 1746, when the Guards were ordered to march to Finchley
on the most important service they could be employed in,--the
extinguishing a Scottish rebellion which threatened the entire
ruin of the illustrious family on the throne, and, in consequence,
of our liberties,--Mr. Hogarth came out with a print to make them
ridiculous[133] to their countrymen, and to all Europe; or, perhaps,
it rather was to tell the Scots, in his way, how little the Guards
were to be feared, and that they might safely advance. That the
ridicule might not stop here, and that it might be as offensive as
possible to his own sovereign, he dedicated the print to the King of
Prussia, as an encourager of arts. Is this patriotism? In old Rome,
or in any of the Grecian States, he would have been punished as a
profligate citizen, totally devoid of all principle."

These are heavy charges; but mark how a plain tale shall put them
down. From the effects which are described as likely to result from
this most seditious print, we are tempted to think it must have
been designed, etched, engraved, printed off, and dispersed with so
much expedition as to arrive in Scotland before the Guards whom it
holds up to ridicule; for one of its designs was "to tell the Scots,
in his way, how little the Guards were to be feared, and that they
might safely advance." The march was in 1746, and the publication
of this print in 1750; therefore[134] it could not have these most
direful and dangerous effects! That he dedicated it to the King of
Prussia, as an encourager of arts, is true; but this dedication
was not inserted until another had been rejected, because it was
misunderstood by the King of England; and George the Second, with
all his virtues, was neither a judge of humour nor an encourager of
the arts. These premises granted, I think we may fairly draw this
conclusion: Had old Hogarth been a citizen of old Rome, or a member
of any of the Grecian States, and published such a representation
of his own times, he would not have been punished as a profligate
citizen: he would neither have been flagellated, impaled, decollated,
nor thrown from the Tarpeian rock; but his print would have been
laughed at by every member of the State who had the least ray of
humour, though--as in some cases that we have seen--the length of a
grave orator's beard might hide the risible emotions of his muscles,
and the amplitude of his robe conceal the shaking of his sides.

To detail the conclusion of this paper, about the dishonour of
his being appointed pannel-painter to the King, never suffered to
caricature any of the royal family, etc., is scarcely necessary.
If the appointment was less respectable than his merits demanded,
the disgrace did not fall upon him; but be it remarked, that the
office was afterwards held by Sir Joshua Reynolds; and however
elevated his taste, however superior his talents, his genius was long
distinguished and admired by the public before he had the honour of
taking the portraits of their Majesties.

Trusting that Hogarth's own works will sufficiently ascertain his
character, I shall not attempt his further vindication, but proceed
to the print.

A globe, which must here be considered as the world, though it
appears to be no more than a tavern sign, is represented on fire,
and Mr. Pitt, exalted on stilts, which are held by the surrounding
multitude, blowing up the flames with a pair of large bellows.[135]
His attendants are composed of butchers, with marrow-bones and
cleavers, an hallooing mob armed with clubs, and a trio of London
aldermen in the act of adoration. From the neck of this idol of
the populace is suspended a millstone, on which is inscribed
£3000 per annum, allusive to his pension, and intimating that so
ponderous a load must in time sink his popularity.[136] While he
is thus increasing the conflagration, a number of Highlanders,[137]
grenadiers, sailors, etc., are busily working a fire-engine to
extinguish it. The pipe is guided by a Union Office fireman at the
top. Defended by an iron cap, and decorated with a badge inscribed
"G. R.," this intrepid engineer pays no regard to three streams of
water which are furiously driven at his rear from the windows of the
Temple Coffeehouse. The Liliputian engines, through which these tiny
showers descend, are directed by a nobleman and two garretteers. An
inscription over the door determines the title of the former, who
is delineated without features: the two gentlemen in the attic were,
I believe, originally intended for Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Churchill, but
previous to publication the faces were altered.[138] A surplice is
still left on the figure over Lord Temple, and the Colonel's coat
is lapelled. Upon a sign-iron beneath them is a slaughterman,[139]
with a lighted candle in his hat, and a large knife in his pocket;
thus intimating that he is ready either to fire a city or murder a
citizen. Mounted to the situation he now occupies by a ladder, he
is drawing up a sign of the Patriot's Arms, and in this good work
is assisted by two strong-sinewed coadjutors, who are dragging the
ropes to which it is suspended. The blazonry is four clenched fists
in opposition to each other; the date, 1762.[140] This curious
delineation will be placed in the front of the Temple Coffeehouse,
for _the world to wonder at_. The Newcastle Arms, nearly broken
down, bears allusion to the Duke's resignation.[141] A Highlander,
carrying two buckets of water from the fire-plug to the engine,
is likely to be impeded by a fellow with a wheelbarrow full of
political papers, which are intended to feed the flames. This type
of the distressed poet, said to be intended as a representative of
the Duke of Newcastle, endeavours to overset the Scot, and burst the
engine-pipe by the same operation.

Wholly engrossed by avarice, the crafty Dutchman, with a hand in
each pocket and a pipe in his mouth, sits on his bales of goods, and
laughs at the destruction raging around him. A fox, fair emblem of
his cunning, is creeping out of a kennel beneath.

Close to him is a patriotic trumpeter, blowing the spirit-stirring
tube, and pointing to a show-cloth, on which is painted a wild
Indian. By the magisterial robe in which this trumpeter is arrayed,
and the city arms on the banner of his windy instrument, he is
decisively intended to personify Mr. Alderman Beckford, thrice Lord
Mayor of London. Beneath the savage to whom he points, is written,
"Alive from America." This grotesque figure is placed before two
tobacco hogsheads, grasps in each hand a purse inscribed "£1000,"
and has tied round him, so as to form a sort of Indian dress, eight
or ten little bags equally well filled. His countenance leads us to
judge that he delights in the devastation by which he is a gainer;
and seems to imply that our American brethren, like our Amsterdam
allies, were eager to furnish friend or foe with the product of their
respective countries. It may further intimate the Alderman's immense
riches, and that a leading article of his trade was tobacco.

A table clock, inscribed "Airs by Harrington," representing a company
of soldiers in a regular march, has an evident allusion to the
military doctrine of man being a machine. "The Norfolk jig, G. T.
_fecit_," hints at the Norfolk Militia, and Mr. George Townshend, who
paid unremitting attention to the discipline and appearance of the
corps raised in Norfolk.

"The Post Office," painted on a cracked board fastened against the
wall, may possibly signify the office of Postmaster-General being
then divided.[142]

In the opposite corner of the print, surrounded by his miserable
and famished subjects, sits the heroic Frederick of Prussia.
Regardless of their distress, and unmoved by their cries, tears, and
execrations--like Nero, who fiddled while Rome burnt--he is lost to
every feeling, except those which arise from the fine tones of his
Cremona. The effects resulting from his insatiable thirst of glory
are not confined to his own subjects. Fired by vaulting ambition,
he scatters destruction through surrounding states; depopulates
provinces, and lays waste kingdoms, to prove himself--a philosopher.

How far the rest of the figures in this group may refer to particular
persons or nations, I cannot determine. The female, with clasped
hands and eyes raised to heaven, has been supposed to be intended for
the Empress Queen; a venerable matron, stealing away with a trunk
under her arm, for the late Empress of Russia, Frederick's most
inveterate enemy, who ended her earthly reign on the 2d of January
1762. They may be so intended, though I must acknowledge I do not
discover anything which will wholly establish the supposition, but am
more inclined to consider them as merely exemplifying the horrors of
war.

The _fleur-de-lis_ hung from one of the houses in flames, and the
black eagle from the other, sufficiently indicate the powers intended
to be pointed out. The sign of the Salutation alludes to the treaty
between France and Spain, for the dexter figure is Louis Baboon; and
the sinister, Lord Strut.

The flames rage with so much violence as to prevent the fluttering
dove from alighting on any of the buildings; notwithstanding which,
this bird of peace, with an olive branch, hovers over them in the
midst of ascending smoke.

The exact point of time is determined by the waggon, inscribed
"Hermione," in the background.[143]

Such is my general idea of the preceding plate;[144] there may be
those who will discover many things which I do not see, and which
possibly never entered into the contemplation of the artist. As the
whole alludes to the politics of his own day, all the characters
introduced were his contemporaries, and several of them had been
his intimate friends, he might intentionally leave some parts
obscure;[145] or conceiving his meaning sufficiently obvious to those
who lived at the time, forget that it would become impervious to
posterity.

I have before observed that in allegory he was not happy; and the
dissimilar combinations here brought together are a proof of the
assertion. Soldiers and sailors, whose business it is to increase
the flames of war, carrying water to extinguish them, is not quite
consonant to our general ideas of their dispositions. Highlanders,
being universally considered as the soldiers of Europe, make but an
awkward appearance in the character of peacemakers.

A sign of the globe on fire, flames bursting out of the Globe Tavern
and three other buildings, with each an alehouse sign, to explain
what nations are meant, borders upon the bathos. Another nation
personified by the sovereign fiddling to his expiring subjects,
is not a bad thought, but here it is incongruous. It has not that
general unison with the other parts of the picture which either
writing or painting demands. Separated from the accompaniments,
this group might have made a good print; with the Globe Tavern, the
Temple Coffeehouse, the garretteers, and the aldermen, it does not
assimilate.

My last remark I shall take the liberty of borrowing from Mr. Wilkes,
for in this one point I have the honour of agreeing with him: "The
print is too much crowded with figures."


PLATE II.

  "The Times are out of joint."

[Illustration: THE TIMES. PLATE II.]

A painter engaging in the political disputes of his day, is in a
situation similar to a gentleman beginning to rebuild a family
mansion. The pencil of one, dipped in these troubled streams, or the
fingers of the other but touch-brick and mortar,--it is not in the
tables of De Moivre to calculate the conclusion of their labours.
Each of them sets out upon a certain plan, determines that he will go
so far, and no further: but the gentleman is induced to make a first
addition to his original plan, because it will be more convenient; a
second, because it will be _magnifique_; and a third and fourth _must
be_, because without them the building will not be uniform.

The artist engraves a political print, which raises an host of
enemies, who buzz about him like a nest of disturbed hornets. To
them, wording not being the painter's province, he replies by a
second print, which produces a second volume of abuse; "another and
another still succeeds," and he must either sink under this load of
obloquy, or devote the residue of his days to the defence of his
character. Such at least was the political progress of Hogarth.

By his first print of "The Times" he roused two very formidable
adversaries, and they treated him with as much ceremony as two
deputies from the Bow Street magistrates would an incendiary or
an assassin. They did not consider him as a man whose conduct it
was needful to investigate, or whose opinions it was necessary to
confute, but as a criminal, whose aggravated crimes had outraged
every law of society, and whom they would therefore drag to the place
of execution. To defend himself from these furious assailants,
he had no shield but a copperplate, no weapons but a pencil and a
burin. The use he made of them may be seen in the two last prints;
but though this was engraved during the time of the contest, it was
not published while he lived. Whether a sudden change in politics, a
supposed ambiguity in part of his design, or the advice of judicious
or timid friends, induced him to suppress his work, cannot now be
ascertained; but whatever were the reasons, his widow's respect for
his memory induced her to adopt the same conduct. She retained a
reverence for even the dust of her husband, and dreaded its being
raked from the sepulchre where he had been quietly inurned, mixed
with the poisonous aconite of party, and by sacrilegious hands
cast into the agitated cauldron of politics. If we add to this the
specimen of political candour which she had experienced in her own
person, can we wonder that she cautiously avoided whatever could be
tortured into a provocation to the renewal of hostilities? From these
considerations she never suffered more than one impression to be
taken, and that was struck off at the earnest request of Lord Exeter.

In withholding this plate from the public she acted prudently; in
attempting to describe it, I may be thought to act otherwise. To
enter into a discrimination of characters who now live, "or step upon
ashes which are not yet cold," is liable to invidious construction.
Let it be remembered, that though I have endeavoured to point out
the characters delineated by Hogarth, it does not follow that my
explanation will always be right.

Though several of the figures are marked in a style so obtrusive that
they cannot be mistaken, there are others where I can only guess at
the originals. From those who were engaged in the politics of that
day I have sought information, but their communications have been
neither important nor consistent with each other. They generally
ended in an acknowledgment, that "in thirty years they had forgotten
much which they once knew, and which, if now recollected, would
materially elucidate." To this was added what I am compelled to
admit, that parts of the print are obscure. I have before observed
that neither politics nor allegory were Hogarth's _forte_, and this
delineation was made under the impression of resentment.

The exact time of its being engraved I cannot positively ascertain,
but conjecture it must have been some time in the year 1762. A small
part of the sky was left unfinished, and in that state still remains,
as the present proprietors would not suffer any other engraver to
draw a line on the copperplate of Hogarth.

On a pedestal in the centre of the print is a statue of the present
King in his coronation robes, inscribed "A Ramsay delt;" his right
hand is placed on his side, and the left leans upon a plummet,
which seems to have been Mr. Ramsay's guide in the delineation;
for the drapery is in squares, decided as the ground glass stopper
of a decanter, and the whole figure is composed of straight lines.
Of these upright figures Hogarth had given his opinion in the
_Analysis_;[146] and Mr. Ramsay being portrait-painter to his
Majesty, a post Hogarth thought himself better qualified to fill, he
took this opportunity of throwing his manner into ridicule.[147] The
head of a lion in _bas relief_ with a leaden pipe in his mouth,[148]
being on the front of the pedestal, intimates its connection with a
reservoir; and the royal statue on the top denotes this to be the
fountain of honour. The able-bodied figure turning a fire-plug is
evidently intended for Lord Bute; his employment seems to intimate
that he has the power of accelerating or retarding the stream of
royal bounty, and wheresoever he willeth it shall flow, there it
floweth. A baronial escutcheon, keys, stars, coronets, croziers,
mitres, maces, lie close to the pedestal, around which are placed a
number of garden pots with shrubs. Two rose trees most plentifully
sprinkled by streams from the fountain of favour have been originally
inscribed "James III.;" but James being now blotted out, George is
put above it, and by a little hyphen beneath the lowest figure,
marked as belonging to the lowest line. Three orange trees have the
initials "G. R.," and beneath the letters is inscribed "Republican."
These also receive drops of favour; but a large laurel planted in
a capacious vase, raised upon the base of a pillar, and inscribed
"Culloden," is watered by the dew of heaven,--by a copious shower
poured from the urn of Aquarius. Besides these six flourishing
plants, there are a number of yew and box trees, clipped into true
taste by a Dutch gardener. Some of them retain their old situations,
but an active labourer is busily clearing the grounds of all these
ancient formalities. Many of them he has already wheeled out of their
places, and thrown into the ditch that surrounds the platform, into
which situation he is now tumbling two venerable box trees of a most
orderly and regular cut: each of them having the letters G. R., may
apply to the favourites either of George the First or Second. This
I suppose is meant to express, by an allegorical figure, the great
number of old place-men who resigned on the accession of his present
Majesty.

The late Henry Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, being at that time a
leading character in the House of Commons, and deemed the partisan of
Lord Bute, is here represented as removing these antiquated plants
from the vivifying hothouse of royalty to the cold and dank ditch of
despair. Hogarth, not thinking a sable countenance and ebon eyebrows
would sufficiently indicate the person meant, has given the outline
of a fox's head to his cap. In his reforming business he is somewhat
impeded by a garden roller, on which is written "£1,000,000,000,"
meaning possibly the national debt. On the platform lies a broom,
shovel, and rake, necessary implements in clearing gardens; and in
the surrounding _fosse_ such a collection of fantastic _nevergreens_,
as decked the pleasure-grounds of our ancient sovereigns, "trimm'd
with nice art," and cut into the shapes of pyramids, fortifications,
globes, and birds. On one of them, clipped into the form of a human
head, is a mask, well expressing the taste of our ancestors.

It is observable that Lord Bute and Mr. Henry Fox are the only
persons on the platform: one of these gentlemen was, I believe,
supposed to have the highest confidence of his sovereign; and the
other, a most powerful influence over the people's representatives.

A group in the dexter corner is principally made up of members of
the Upper House. A senatorial figure in the chair under the king's
arms is intended for Sir John Cust, then Speaker. That beneath him,
wiping his forehead, evidently from perturbation of mind, for William
Duke of Cumberland. Below him is Lord Mansfield, and still lower Lord
Temple, presenting his snuff-box to his Grace of Newcastle, who had
a short time before joined the opposition. We also recognise Earl
Winchelsea, and George Doddington, afterwards Lord Melcombe.

Who are intended to be hinted at by a number of persons asleep, I
do not know: it, however, proves that there were at that period men
who were not to be kept awake by the most important interests of
their country. Had this print borne relation to the orators of 1790
instead of the speakers of 1762, there would have been no cause for
astonishment. Considering the hour at which our present race of
senators meet to do business, and that one oration frequently lasts
from the twilight of evening to the crowing of the cock, could it
excite wonder if half the assembly were under the dominion of Somnus
before what one of our fashionable prints so familiarly calls the
peroration?

On the other side of a rail, intended, I believe, to divide the
Commons from the Lords, are a number of figures firing at the
emblem of Peace, which is fluttering in the air near the signs of
the zodiac. Mr. Pitt we are enabled to identify, not only by his
features, but by his gouty legs. His gun has much the longest barrel,
and while he fires it off he prudently turns away his face, fearing
a flash in the pan may scorch his eyebrows; or perhaps acting as a
waterman, looking one way and rowing another. A figure behind him
discharges a blunderbuss; and in the sinister hand of one immediately
before him is a horse-pistol. The household artillery of all the
band (and from the smoke which is diffused over the centre of the
group it appears they are numerous) is directed to the same object.
One prudent personage, a little before Mr. Pitt, seems to be in the
act of desertion; for though yet seated on the gunpowder bench, he
has got his head under the rail, and is half on the other side. This
may be pointed at one of that class who go under the denomination
of Trimmers, or may intimate that the gentleman is in the way of
getting a place or a peerage; but what is his name, or was his future
title, I am not enough read in the red book[149] to determine. The
next figure resembles Henry Bilson Legge. A hand with an ear-trumpet
may perhaps allude to Lord Chesterfield, whose deafness was at this
period proverbial. Two figures above him are distinguished, one by
a muff, and the other by a pair of spectacles; "to whom related,
or by whom begot," baffles my conjecture: the lowest figure has a
resemblance to the first Lord Holland, but _he_ is exhibited on the
platform. A dog immediately behind Lord Bute, having his eye fixed
on the urn of Aquarius, I suppose to be barking at the shower which
pours on the laurel inscribed "Culloden." He is a Caledonian cur,
and on his collar is written the word "Mercy," allusive, perhaps, to
the cruelties said to have been exercised in Scotland in 1745, which
accounts for the natives of that country thinking the Duke had more
liberal rewards and more distinguished honours than he fairly merited.

Thus much must suffice for the dignified personages who then drove
the state machine: to regret that I cannot point out more of the
characters would be useless. I am not deeply studied in the political
history of that day; to those who are, must be delegated the task of
more particular explanation.

The two most distinguished persons in the opposite group are exalted
to the pillory. Over a figure of Fanny the Phantom, who is dressed
in a white sheet, the engraver has written "Conspiracy." In one
hand she holds a small hammer, and in the other a lighted taper,
with which she sets fire to a _North Briton_ that is fastened on the
breast of Esquire Wilkes, above whose head is written "Defamation."
The patriot is depicted with a most rueful countenance and empty
pockets. On the steps below are such a company as we generally see
assembled on these great occasions. Two Highlanders, one of whom is
grasping a purse, and with most significant grin pointing to the
_profane cheeld_ who had dared to abuse his clan, and reprinted
Howell's _Description of Scotland_:[150] by his belt and lapels he
appears to be military, and is perhaps meant for Colonel Martin.
Close to him is a Liliputian chimney-sweeper, and a fellow blowing
a cow's horn with force that gives a Boreas-like distension to his
cheeks.[151] This resounding clangour is softened by the cheering
notes of the sweet-sounding violin, while the growling bagpipe gives
a thorough bass to the whole. Still further to keep up the spirits
of the company, a woman is retailing gin from a keg inscribed with
the two initials "J. W.," and a schoolboy amusing himself, _à la
Teniers_, with Mr. Wilkes' shoes. To complete his degradation, the
Bishop's Abigail so skilfully trundles her well-soaked mop, that he
enjoys the full benefit of her mud-coloured drops.

The group behind is partly made up of British sailors and soldiers,
each of whom exhibit a most melancholy spectacle of the fortune of
war. One lion-hearted veteran, having had both legs and arms lopped
off in the service of his country, has his oak-like trunk borne to
the borders of the platform upon a porter's knot,[152] where, with
three other disabled warriors, he waits in the hope of catching a
few drops from the fountain of honour; but alas! the stream which
ascends from a fire-plug behind the gate falls on the heads of a mob
who are in the background. Some of these may possibly be cripples,
for a crutch as well as several bludgeons is flourished in the air.
At a window, over which is painted "Dr. Cant's," and "Man Midwife," a
bishop is confirming two adults by the imposition of hands. Whether
by this representation the artist intended to hint that this father
of the church confirmed them in their political errors, the reader
must determine according to his political creed; but thus far we
may venture to decide, Doctor Thomas Seeker, then Archbishop of
Canterbury, was the person intended to be delineated. At the rooms
where the Society for Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and
Commerce then met, a number of persons, by the help of a crane, are
dragging up a large silver palette, on which is written "Premium."
The man instructing the workmen is, I believe, intended for Mr. Peter
Templeman, then Secretary to the Society; as one of the figures in
the first floor is probably Lord Romney, then their President.

Behind this we discover the New Church in the Strand; and on
the opposite side a triumphal column; a structure with the word
"Hospital" inscribed on the front, and a scaffolding, with workmen
completing a very large new building. These, I apprehend, Hogarth
intended as descriptive of the great things which were to be
undertaken and carried on during the reign of a monarch who gloried
in the name of Briton. That the workmen and scaffolding bear allusion
to those extensive and ponderous premises now known by the name of
Somerset Place, there can be little doubt: the artist, with an eye
of prophetic anticipation, has placed his scaffolding nearly on the
spot where the building now stands;[153] and conscious of the time it
must take to pile up such a quantity of stone, has not represented it
built, but building.

The figure of Lord Bute is a strong likeness, and in the turn of head
very similar to Ramsay's portrait which Mr. Ryland engraved. Pointing
out the first Lord Holland by making the outline of his cap in the
form of a fox's head, is a whimsical idea. Even the sculptured lion's
shaggy front has strong markings. He is by no means pleased with the
distribution of those honours that he is made a party in bestowing,
but goes through his business with a very wry face. To the poor
maimed sailors and soldiers, Callot could not have given much more
spirit. Though upon so small a scale, they have all the hardihood
of their order; and both in them and the elevated party[154] on the
opposite side, variety and distinction of character is accurately and
nicely discriminated.



JOHN WILKES, ESQ.

  _Drawn from the Life, and etched in aquafortis, by William
  Hogarth. Published according to Act of Parliament, May 16, 1763._

      "Enough of Patriots,--all I ask of man
      Is only to be honest as he can.
      Some have deceiv'd, and some may still deceive,
      'Tis the fool's curse at random to believe.
      Would those who, by opinion plac'd on high,
      Stand fair and perfect in their country's eye,
      Maintain that honour,--let me in their ear
      Hint this essential doctrine--PERSEVERE."

      --CHURCHILL.

[Illustration: JOHN WILKES ESQ^R.]


The bitter satire upon Hogarth's domestic habits, talents, taste,
originality, and orthography, which has been before noticed, would
have discomposed a less irritable man, and warranted any retaliation
in the power of the pencil; but he seems to have felt little
uneasiness, and under a conviction that the overcharged blunderbuss
which had been aimed at him had burst in the explosion and wounded
his assailant more than himself, did not think it necessary to
point fire-arms at an adversary whose intemperate zeal had defeated
his avowed purpose. Under the influence of these impressions, the
artist has not attempted to be severe; nor can I comprehend upon
what ground this plate has been denominated a satire, for it is not
a caricature, but a very accurate and striking resemblance, with the
identical accompaniments which I most firmly believe Mr. Wilkes would
at that time have chosen as the decorations of his portrait. The cap
of liberty, "Heaven-descended, godlike liberty," above his head, and
two political papers which he acknowledged himself to have written,
on his right hand. One of these papers is marked with that memorable
number, which was in its day a kind of shibboleth to the party.[156]
On the same table with the two _North Britons_ is a pen and ink,
importing that the person delineated is an author, a character the
Colonel could hardly be ashamed of. These premises granted to the
artist,--and

      "The very head and front of his offending
      Hath this extent, no more,"--

what crime has he committed? He has given an engraving, which cannot
indeed be considered as a compliment, because it is not a flattering
likeness; but I do not see why it should have been received as a
sarcasm. If we add to this the time when, and place where, it was
taken; if we consider how glorious the situation!--how interesting
the moment!--it is delineating a general at the instant of victory;
and so far from bearing any marks of satire, that it might be almost
mistaken for a panegyric. To say the truth, though his friend
Churchill has thrown the picture into shadow, and given only the dark
tints, Mr. Wilkes seemed willing enough to receive it as such;[157]
and I am informed, frequently told his friends that he every day
grew into a stronger resemblance. The pleasant and philosophic
indifference with which he spoke of it at the time, did honour to
his good humour and his good sense. He declared himself very little
concerned about the case of his soul, as he was only tenant for life,
and that the best apology for his person was, that he did not make
himself.[158]

Such was the style of Mr. Wilkes. As to Mr. Churchill, his temper
must have forsaken him; and every circumstance taken into the
account, when describing this transaction, he seems to have forgotten
that satire ought to be at least seasoned with truth. Brilliant
diction, animated verse, and high-sounding words, are very apt to
impose. Churchill's is a muse of fire, and dazzles the eye like the
sun in its meridian splendour; it fascinates the mind, and carries
the most sober reason into the airy regions of imagination. This
considered, before I insert his bitter satire, it will be but fair to
give a candid and dispassionate relation of that which provoked it.

When Mr. Wilkes was the second time brought from the Tower to
Westminster Hall, and had in one day an honourable acquittal, an
universal acclamation, and a proud triumph, Mr. Hogarth attended in
the court of Common Pleas, and, as was his constant custom, carried
a port-crayon in his pocket. Surrounded by a crowd of spectators,
who came to see how the cause would terminate, he took a portrait
of Mr. Wilkes: delineated a patriot at the moment when he was in
his own person asserting the cause of liberty, and by his own trial
ascertaining the law of his country. But, replies an advocate for
Mr. Wilkes, "Hogarth certainly intended to make a caricature."[159]
To this I have no other answer than pointing to the print, which,
being compared with the original, will prove to every dispassionate
inquirer what it is my wish to establish, _i.e._ that it has been
mistaken for a caricature, from the world knowing the provocation
which Hogarth had previously received, and which every man felt would
have justified the most severe retaliation.

What! Consider it as a satire to hand down to posterity a patriot at
the moment of inspiration! "While every breast caught the holy flame
of liberty, and all his fellow-citizens were animated in his cause,
for they knew it to be their own cause, that of their country, and
of its laws. It was declared to be so a few hours afterwards by the
unanimous sentence of the Judges of that Court; and they were all
present."

From the style in which the bard relates this transaction, a plain
reader would be tempted to think that Hogarth had stolen into
Westminster Hall with a quiver full of poisoned arrows hung to his
girdle, and, like a murderous ruffian, hid himself behind the arras,
that he might seize the first opportunity of assassinating this
paragon of patriotism.

        "When Wilkes, our countryman, our common friend,
      Arose, his king, his country to defend;
      When tools of power he bar'd to public view,
      And from their holes the sneaking cowards drew;
      When Rancour found it far beyond her reach,
      To soil his honour, and his truth impeach,--
      What could induce thee, at a time and place
      Where manly foes had blush'd to show their face,
      To make that effort which must damn thy name,
      And sink thee deep, deep in the grave with shame!
      Did Virtue move thee? no, 'twas pride, rank pride,
      And if thou hadst not done it, thou hadst died.
      Malice (who, disappointed of her end,
      Whether to work the bane of foe or friend,
      Preys on herself, and driven to the stake,
      Gives virtue that revenge she scorns to take)
      Had killed thee, tottering on life's utmost verge,
      Had Wilkes and Liberty escaped thy scourge.
        "When that great charter which our fathers bought
      With their best blood, was into question brought;
      When big with ruin, o'er each English head,
      Vile Slavery hung suspended by a thread;
      When Liberty, all trembling and aghast,
      Fear'd for the future, knowing what was past;
      When every breast was chill'd with deep despair,
      Till reason pointed out that PRATT was there.
      Lurking most ruffian-like behind a screen,
      So plac'd all things to see, himself unseen,
      Virtue with due contempt saw[160] Hogarth stand,
      The murderous pencil in his palsied hand.
      What was the cause of Liberty to him,
      Or what was Honour! let them sink or swim,
      So he may gratify without control,
      The mean resentments of his selfish soul,
      Let Freedom perish, if, to Freedom true,
      In the same ruin Wilkes may perish too."

This animated and high-coloured rhapsody, beautiful and fervid as it
is, when reduced to plain prose, ends in Liberty, Virtue, and Honour
being all aghast, because Hogarth took Mr. Wilkes' portrait without
the customary fee! But my readers may be weary of the subject.
Enough--

      "Enough of Wilkes,--to good and honest men
      His actions speak much stronger than my pen."

      --CHURCHILL.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



THE BRUISER, CHARLES CHURCHILL (ONCE THE REVEREND),

  _In the Character of a Russian Hercules, regaling himself after
  having killed the Monster Caricatura, that so sorely galled his
  virtuous friend, the heaven-born Wilkes.--Published Aug. 1, 1763._

      "But he had a club,
      This dragon to drub,
      Or he had ne'er don't, I warrant ye."

      --_Dragon of Wantley._

[Illustration: THE REV. C. CHURCHILL.]


Enraged by the publication of Mr. Wilkes' portrait, Mr. Charles
Churchill drew his gray goose quill, and wrote a most virulent and
vindictive satire, which he entitled _An Epistle to William Hogarth_.
The painter might be a very good Christian, but he was not blest with
that meek forbearance which induces those who are smote on one cheek
to turn the other also. He was an old man, but did not wish to be
considered as that feeble, superannuated, helpless animal which the
poet had described. He scarcely wished to live

      "After his flame lack'd oil, to be the snuff
      Of younger spirits."

Apprehensive that the public might construe his delaying a reply to
proceed from inability, he did not wait the tedious process of a new
plate, but took a piece of copper on which he had, in the year 1749,
engraven a portrait of himself and dog, erased his own head, and in
the place of it introduced the divine with a tattered band and torn
ruffles,--"No Lord's anointed, but a Russian bear."

In this I must acknowledge there was more ill-nature than wit.[161]
It is rather caricature than character, and more like the coarse
mangling of Tom Browne than the delicate yet wounding satire of
Alexander Pope. For this rough retort he might, however, plead
the poet's precedent. His opponent had brandished a tomahawk; and
Hogarth, old as he was, wielded a battle-axe in his own defence. A
more aggravated provocation cannot well be conceived. The attack was
unmerciful, unmanly, unjust. Let the following extracts speak for
themselves:--

      "Amongst the sons of men, how few are known
      Who dare be just to merit not their own!
      Superior virtue and superior sense,
      To knaves and fools will always give offence:
      Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear--
      So nice is jealousy--a rival there."

Such is the introduction to Churchill's Epistle, and I believe the
reader will grant that it is quite as applicable to the poet as the
painter. After some lines which would apply to any other subject as
well as that under consideration, he thus proceeds:

      "Hogarth,--I take thee, Candour, at thy word,
      Accept thy proffer'd terms, and will be heard;
      Thee have I heard with virulence declaim,
      Nothing retained of Candour but the name;
      By thee have I been charg'd in angry strains,[162]
      With that mean falsehood which my soul disdains."

How furious the onset! but if the lines are brought back to plain
prose, they will run thus: "Hogarth, thy word is candour. I adopt
the same word, and having heard _thee_ declaim with a virulence that
retained nothing of candour but the name, thou shalt hear me declaim
in the same style."

That this is the precise meaning which the poet intended, I will not
presume to assert; but that he has pursued his theme in a manner that
amply justifies my supposition, the following lines will abundantly
prove:--

      "Hogarth, stand forth,--nay, hang not thus aloof,
      Now Candour, now thou shalt receive such proof,
      Such damning proof, that henceforth thou shalt fear
      To tax my wrath, and own my conduct clear.
      Hogarth, stand forth,--I dare thee to be try'd
      In that great court where Conscience must preside:
      At that most solemn bar hold up thy hand;
      Think before whom, on what account you stand.
      Speak, but consider well--from first to last
      Review thy life, view every action past:
      Nay, you shall have no reason to complain,--
      Take longer time, and view them o'er again:
      Canst thou remember from thy earliest youth,--
      And as thy God must judge thee, speak the truth,--
      A single instance where, self laid aside,
      And justice taking place of fear and pride,
      Thou with an equal eye didst genius view,
      And give to merit what was merit's due?
      Genius and merit are a sure offence,
      And thy soul sickens at the name of sense."

If Hogarth had so marked an aversion to all genius, merit, and sense,
it is rather singular that he should have lived on such intimate
terms with Mr. Churchill and Mr. Wilkes.

      "Is any one so foolish to succeed?
      On Envy's altar he is doomed to bleed.
      Hogarth, a guilty pleasure in his eyes,
      The place of executioner supplies:
      See how he gloats, enjoys the sacred feast,
      And proves himself by cruelty a priest."

What does the bard prove himself?

      "Whilst the weak artist to thy whims a slave,
      Would bury all those powers which nature gave,
      Would suffer blank concealment to obscure
      Those rays that jealousy could not endure;
      To feed thy vanity would rust unknown,
      And to secure thy credit, blast his own:
      In Hogarth he was sure to find a friend;
      He could not fear, and therefore might commend.
      But when his spirit, rous'd by honest shame,
      Shook off that lethargy, and soar'd to fame;
      When with the pride of man resolv'd and strong,
      He scorn'd those fears which did his honour wrong;
      And on himself determin'd to rely,
      Brought forth his labours to the public eye,
      No friend in thee could such a rebel know,
      He had desert, and Hogarth was his foe."

He must be a very weak artist indeed who would bury the talents which
Nature gave, to gratify the whims of another man; but admitting a
painter had been found "who suffered blank concealment to obscure
those rays which jealousy could not endure," I cannot comprehend how
it concerned Hogarth. His walk was all his own: even now he need not
dread a rival there. Mr. Churchill acknowledges that in walks of
humour

      "Hogarth unrivall'd stands, and shall engage
      Unrivall'd praise to the most distant age!"

Being unrivalled, I do not see why he should dread a rival; nor can
I conceive he could be jealous of talents which he must be conscious
were inferior to his own.

After some very harsh lines on envy, in no degree applicable to
Hogarth, and the rhapsody about Wilkes and Liberty, which I have
noticed in the preceding plate, this high priest of the Temple of
Cruelty, rejoicing in his strength and triumphing in the pride of his
youth, without any reverence for gray hairs or respect for superior
talents, sets up the war-whoop, and springs upon a feeble old man
with the ferocity of a hungry cannibal:

      "With all the symptoms of assur'd decay,
      With age and sickness pinch'd and worn away,
      Pale quivering lips, lank cheeks, and faltering tongue,
      The spirits out of tune, the nerves unstrung,
      The body shrivell'd up, the dim eyes sunk
      Within their sockets deep; the weak hams shrunk,
      The body's weight unable to sustain,
      The stream of life scarce trembling through the vein:
      More than half kill'd by honest truths which fell,
      Through thy own fault, from men who wish'd thee well;
      Canst thou e'en thus thy thoughts to vengeance give,
      And dead to all things else, to malice live?
      Hence, dotard, to thy closet; shut thee in,
      By deep repentance wash away thy sin;
      From haunts of men, to shame and sorrow fly,
      And on the verge of death learn how to die."

That a man in the vigour of life--for Churchill was not much more
than thirty years old--should draw so pitiable a picture of age
and decrepitude, and then attack that age and decrepitude with a
barbarity so savage, is horrible! But the baleful spirit of party
overthrows the barriers of truth, eradicates philanthropy, and severs
those social, I had almost said sacred, bonds which ought to unite
and attach men of genius to each other. Had Churchill felt his own
beautiful apostrophe, he would have blotted the lines with his tears:

      "Ah! let not youth to insolence allied,
      In heat of blood, in full career of pride,
      Possessed of genius, with unhallowed rage,
      Mock the infirmities of reverend age.
      The greatest genius to this fate may bow."

      --_Churchill's Epistle to Hogarth._

After advising the painter to learn how to die, the bard proceeds;
repeats and amplifies what he had before written on Hogarth's envy,
gives a metrical version of that _North Briton_ which ridicules the
artist's love of flattery, and beautifully versifies Mr. Wilkes'
prosaic abuse of poor "Sigismunda."

In the lines which follow, he first throws the gauntlet, and then
draws such a picture of the man he has challenged as must have
subdued the rancour of an assassin; so far from being a stimulus to
revenge, it excites pity, and concludes in the form of an apology:

      "For me, who, warm and zealous for my friend,
      In spite of railing thousands, will commend;
      And no less warm and zealous 'gainst my foes,
      Spite of commending thousands will oppose;
      I dare thy worst, with scorn behold thy rage,
      But with an eye of pity view thy age;
      Thy feeble age, in which as in a glass
      We see how men to dissolution pass.
      Thou wretched being, whom on reason's plan,
      So chang'd, so lost, I cannot call a man,
      What could persuade thee at this time of life
      To launch afresh into this sea of strife?
      Better for thee, scarce crawling on the earth,
      Almost as much a child as at thy birth,
      To have resign'd in peace thy parting breath,
      And sunk unnotic'd in the arms of death.
      Why would thy gray, gray hairs resentment brave,
      Thus to go down with sorrow to the grave?
      Now by my soul it makes me blush to know
      My spirits could descend to such a foe.
      Whatever cause thy vengeance might provoke,
      It seems rank cowardice to give the stroke."

Seems, Churchill!--nay, it is!

The following address to the artist may, with infinitely more
propriety, be applied to the bard; whose name I have therefore
ventured to insert in the place where he has left the name of Hogarth:

      "With so much merit, and so much success,
      With so much power to curse, so much to bless,
      Would he have been man's friend instead of foe,
      Churchill had been a little god below.
      Why, then, like savage giants fam'd of old,
      Of whom in Scripture story we are told,
      Dost thou in cruelty that strength employ,
      Which Nature meant to save, not to destroy?
      Why dost thou, all in horrid pomp array'd,
      Sit grinning o'er the ruins thou hast made?
      Most rank ill-nature must applaud thy art,
      But even Candour must condemn thy heart."

      --_Epistle to Hogarth._

The whole of this unfeeling composition is dictated by the same
spirit, and written in much the same style, as the lines I have
quoted; it reflects more dishonour on the satirist than on the
subject of his abuse.

To enumerate further examples would be painful as well as tedious:
the _graven image_ must be attended to.

It represents Mr. Churchill in the character of a bear hugging a
foaming tankard of porter,[163] and like another Hercules, armed with
a knotted club, to attack hydras, destroy dragons, and discomfit
giants!

From the two letters "N. B." inscribed on the club, it appears that
the painter considered Churchill as a writer in the _North Briton_;
and from the words "infamous fallacy, Lie the 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th,"
etc., on each of the knots, that he also considered him as a poet who
did not pay the strictest regard to truth.

To designate more positively the object of his ridicule, and render
this rude representative still more ludicrous, it is decorated with a
band and a pair of ruffles; and with these characteristic ornaments,
though it remains a good bear, it becomes a sort of overcharged
portrait of the reverend satirist, and I really think resembles him.

Hogarth's favourite dog Trump, who had been his companion in the
portrait from which this is altered, retains his original situation
on the outside of the picture frame, but is now contemptuously
treating and trampling upon the Epistle to his master. Near him lie
two books, on one of which is written, "_A New Way to Pay Old Debts_,
a comedy, by Massinger:" on the other, "_A List of Subscribers to the
North Briton_." To intimate the poverty of those who wrote it, the
pyramid is crowned by a begging-box; and beneath, as emblems of art,
lie a pencil and palette.

In this state the print was published; but the gentleman whom it
offended asserting that it proved the painter in his dotage, he
refuted their calumny by the following spirited addition:--

In the form of a framed picture on the painter's palette, is placed
a small drawing, which may serve as a sort of political postscript
to his first plate of "The Times," or a kind of prelude to the
second. It represents Mr. Pitt reclining in a similar position to
that of Sir Isaac Newton in Westminster Abbey, and is probably meant
as allusive to his having retired from public business, to enjoy
the _otium cum dignitate_, a short time before. The background is
composed of a pyramidical piece of marble, from the top of which
is suspended a millstone, inscribed "£3000," in allusion to his
saying that "Hanover was a millstone round the neck of England," and
afterwards increasing the public burdens by accepting a pension of
£3000 a year. It is suspended by a thread, and must, if it falls,
dash him to pieces. This was Hogarth's idea of crushing popularity.
To heighten the ridicule, though recumbent, he is firing a mortar
at the symbol of peace, "a dove with an olive branch" perched on
the standard of England; but his artillery is not powerful enough
to reach the mark; the powder fails in its effect, the ball falls
short of its object. In most of his measures Mr. Pitt was supported
by the city of London, and to this our great metropolis Hogarth
appears to allude, in making the two Guildhall giants, with each of
them a pipe of tobacco in his mouth, supporters of the Monument. The
tubes with Indian weed evidently hint at his great Creolian friend,
Mr. Alderman Beckford. To denote that Mr. Pitt was the sovereign of
their affections, and kept the master-key of their iron chests, one
of these representatives of the city is giving him supreme rule,
by placing upon his head "the likeness of a kingly crown." The
other holds a shield, on which is emblazoned the arms of Austria,
which the statesman indignantly spurns. At an opposite corner, the
painter has exhibited himself, in the humble character of a showman,
drilling Messrs. Churchill and Wilkes through the varying steps of
a political minuet. The first he has represented under the type
of a bear in a laced hat, and the last as a monkey astride upon a
mop-stick, with the cap of liberty at the top of it. In his left hand
he holds a check-string, which being fastened to his two pupils,
answers the purpose of a bridle, and in his right brandishes a
cat-o'-nine-tails. That the two quadrupeds may dance to some tune,
a figure without features, intended as a second delineation of Earl
Temple, is playing on the fiddle.[164]

Such is Hogarth's representation; and in the poem of _Independence_,
which Churchill published in September 1764, he admirably parries
the caricature by a most spirited description of himself. In this he
has evidently taken Hogarth's print for his model. Having described
a lean, long, lank, and bony figure, designed for a then unpopular
nobleman, he thus proceeds:

      "Such was the first. The second was a man
      Whom Nature built on a quite different plan:
      A bear, whom from the moment he was born,
      His dam despis'd, and left unlick'd in scorn:
      A Babel, which, the power of art outdone,
      She could not finish when she had begun:
      An utter chaos, out of which no might
      But that of God could strike one spark of light.
      Broad were his shoulders, and from blade to blade
      A H---- might at full length have laid.
      Vast were his bones; his muscles twisted strong;
      His face was short, but broader than 'twas long.
      His features, though by nature they were large,
      Contentment had contrived to overcharge,
      And bury meaning; save that we might spy
      Sense low'ring on the pent-house of his eye,[165]
      His arms were two twin oaks; his legs so stout,
      That they might bear a mansion-house about.
      Nor were they,--look but at his body there,
      Design'd by fate a much less weight to bear.
        "O'er a brown cassock, which had once been black,
      Which hung in tatters on his brawny back,
      A sight most strange and awkward to behold,
      He threw a covering of blue and gold.
        "Just at that time of life when man by rule
      The fop laid down, takes up the graver fool,
      He started up a fop, and fond of show,
      Look'd like another Hercules turn'd beau;
      A subject met with only now and then,
      Much fitter for the pencil than the pen.
      Hogarth would draw him, Envy must allow,
      Ev'n to the life,--were Hogarth living now."[166]

In the following letter written to his friend Mr. Wilkes, and dated
August 3, 1763, Churchill considers Hogarth as already dead:--

  "I take it for granted you have seen Hogarth's print against me.
  Was ever anything so contemptible? I think he is fairly _felo
  de se_. I think not to let him off in that manner, although I
  might safely leave him to your notes.[167] He has broken into
  my pale of private life, and set that example of illiberality
  which I wished; of that kind of attack which is ungenerous in the
  first instance, but justice in return.[168] I intend an elegy
  on him, supposing him dead; but *---- *---- tells me, with a
  kiss, he will be really dead before it comes out; that I have
  already killed him, etc. How sweet is flattery from the woman we
  love![169] and how weak is our boasted strength, when opposed to
  beauty and good sense with good-nature."

Mr. Churchill died at Boulogne in his thirty-second year, and was in
November 1764 buried at Dover: at which place, on a small stone in
the old churchyard, formerly belonging to the collegiate Church of
St. Martin, is the following inscription:

      "Life to the last enjoy'd, here Churchill lies."



APPENDIX,

CONSISTING OF

ENGRAVED HEADPIECES FOR RECEIPTS, ETC.


At the time that Hogarth lived, we were not compelled to have our
receipts sanctioned with a royal stamp; but upon the receipts given
by Hogarth, there was "the stamp of genius, the broad seal of
nature!" Whoever paid a subscription had a written acknowledgment
beneath a little print. This invariably abounded in wit, but had
seldom any immediate allusion to the series with which it was
presented.[170] His great works I consider as giving not only a
general mirror of the human mind, but a history of the local and
temporary customs of the day when they were published. I have
therefore arranged them in the order they were engraved; and thinking
that the receipts, or less important prints, would break the chain by
which they are in a degree connected, I have reserved the following
short memoranda for an appendix:--


BOYS PEEPING AT NATURE.[171]

  "Thou, Nature, art my goddess."

[Illustration: BOYS PEEPING AT NATURE.]

This plate was engraved in 1733, and intended as the
subscription-ticket to "The Harlot's Progress;" but in the original
design Nature was habited in a petticoat, and the boy who now points
to a three-quarters portrait was placed before her, and represented
as curiously stooping down to examine the fringe. Some of the
artist's friends, suggesting that this was too ludicrous an idea for
the public, the copper was thrown aside.

In the year 1751, Hogarth etched his burlesque "Paul," as a
receipt-ticket to the large "Paul before Felix." In a printed
catalogue of his works, dated 1754, I find "Paul before Felix" marked
£0, 7s. 6d., and "Paul before Felix, in the manner of Rembrandt," £0,
0s. 0d. Applications for the gratis etching were very frequent; and
he found, to his great mortification, that the public were more eager
to possess his little print than either of the large ones. To punish
their want of taste, he gave away no more, but fixed the price at
two-thirds of the sum at which he published the large print.

This alteration of his first plan left the great "Paul" without a
ticket. To have given him the "Peeping Boys" in their original
state, would have been a species of sacrilege; they were chastened,
grouped as they now are, and transferred from the "Harlot" to the
"Apostle."

Though the circumstance from which it received a name was done away,
and very little either novel or striking remains, he retained the
original title of "Boys Peeping at Nature."[172]


FIVE GROUPS OF HEADS.

THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE.

      "Let him laugh now, who never laugh'd before;
      And he who always laugh'd, laugh now the more."

[Illustration: THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE.]

From the first print that Hogarth engraved to the last that he
published, I do not think there is one in which character is more
displayed than in this very spirited little etching. It is much
superior to the more delicate engravings from his designs by other
artists, and I prefer it to those that were still higher finished by
his own burin.

The prim coxcomb with an enormous bag, whose favours, like those of
Hercules between Virtue and Vice, are contended for by two rival
orange girls, gives an admirable idea of the dress of the day; when,
if we may judge from this print, our grave forefathers, defying
nature and despising convenience, had a much higher rank in the
temple of Folly than was then attained by their ladies. It must be
acknowledged that since that period the softer sex have asserted
their natural rights; and, snatching the wreath of fashion from the
brow of presuming man, have tortured it into such forms--that were it
possible, which certes it is not, to disguise a beauteous face!--But
to the high behest of fashion all must bow.

Governed by this idol, our beau has a cuff that for a modern fop
would furnish fronts for a waistcoat, and a family fire-screen might
be made of his enormous bag. His bare and shrivelled neck has a close
resemblance to that of a half-starved greyhound; and his face,
figure, and air, form a fine contrast to the easy and _degagée_
assurance of the grisette whom he addresses.

The opposite figure, nearly as grotesque, though not quite so formal
as _its_ companion, presses _its_ left hand upon _its_ breast,[173]
in the style of protestation, and eagerly contemplating the
superabundant charms of a beauty of Rubens' school, presents her with
a pinch of comfort.[174] Every muscle, every line of his countenance,
is acted upon by affectation and grimace, and his queue bears some
resemblance to an ear-trumpet.

The total inattention of these three polite persons to the business
of the stage, which at this moment almost convulses the children
of Nature who are seated in the pit, is highly descriptive of that
refined apathy which characterizes our people of fashion, and raises
them above those mean passions that agitate the groundlings.

One gentleman, indeed,[175] is as affectedly unaffected as a man
of the first world. By his saturnine cast of face and contracted
brow, he is evidently a profound critic, and much too wise to
laugh. He must indisputably be a very great genius; for, like
Voltaire's Poccocurante, nothing can please him; and while those
around open every avenue of their minds to mirth, and are willing
to be delighted, though they do not well know why, he analyzes
the drama by the laws of Aristotle, and finding those laws are
violated, determines that the author ought to be hissed instead of
being applauded. This it is to be so excellent a judge; this it is
which gives a critic that exalted gratification which can never
be attained by the illiterate: the supreme power of pointing out
faults where others discern nothing but beauties, and preserving a
rigid inflexibility of muscle while the sides of the vulgar herd are
shaking with laughter. These merry mortals, thinking with Plato that
it is no proof of a good stomach to nauseate every aliment presented
them, do not inquire too nicely into _causes_; but, giving full scope
to their risibility, display a set of features more highly ludicrous
than I ever saw in any other print. It is to be regretted that the
artist has not given us some clue by which we might have known
what was the play which so much delighted his audience: I should
conjecture that it was either one of Shakspeare's comedies, or a
modern tragedy. Sentimental comedy was not the fashion of that day.

The three sedate musicians in the orchestra, totally engrossed by
minims and crotchets, are an admirable contrast to the company in the
pit.


THE LECTURE.

DATUR VACUUM.

      "No wonder that science, and learning profound,
      In Oxford and Cambridge so greatly abound,
      When so many take thither a little each day,
      And we see very few who bring any away."

[Illustration: THE LECTURE.]

I was once told by a fellow of a college that he would never purchase
Hogarth's works, because Hogarth had in this print ridiculed one of
the Universities. I endeavoured to defend the artist, by suggesting
that this was not intended as a picture of what Oxford is now, but
of what it was in days long past: that it was that kind of general
satire with which no one should be offended, etc. etc. His reply
was too memorable to be forgotten: "Sir, the Theatre, the Bench,
the College of Physicians, and the Foot Guards, are fair objects of
satire; but those venerable characters who have devoted their whole
lives to feeding the lamp of learning with hallowed oil, are too
sacred to be the sport of an uneducated painter. Their unremitting
industry embraced the whole circle of the sciences, and in their
logical disputations they displayed an acuteness that their followers
must contemplate with astonishment. The present state of Oxford it
is not necessary for me to analyze, as you contend that the satire is
not directed against that."

In answer to this observation, which was uttered with becoming
gravity, a gentleman present remarked as follows: "For some of the
ancient customs of this seminary of learning I have much respect;
but as to their dry treatises on logic, immaterial dissertations on
materiality, and abstruse investigations of useless subjects, they
are mere literary legerdemain. Their disputations being usually
built on an undefinable chimera, are solved by a paradox. Instead
of exercising their power of reason, they exert their powers
of sophistry, and divide and subdivide every subject with such
casuistical minuteness, that those who are not convinced are almost
invariably confounded. This custom, it must be granted, is not quite
so prevalent as it once was: a general spirit of reform is rapidly
diffusing itself; and though I have heard cold-blooded declaimers
assert that these shades of science are become the retreats of
ignorance and the haunts of dissipation, I consider them as the great
schools of urbanity, and favourite seats of the _belles lettres_. By
the _belles lettres_ I mean history, biography, and poetry; that all
these are universally cultivated, I can exemplify by the manner in
which a highly accomplished young man, who is considered as a model
by his fellow-collegians, divides his hours.

"At breakfast I found him studying the marvellous and eventful
history of _Baron Munchausen_; a work whose periods are equally
free from the long-winded obscurity of Tacitus, and the asthmatic
terseness of Sallust. While his hair was dressing, he enlarged his
imagination and improved his morals by studying Doctor what's his
name's _Abridgment of Chesterfield's Principles of Politeness_.
To furnish himself with biographical information, and add to his
stock of useful anecdote, he studied the _Lives of the Highwaymen_;
in which he found many opportunities of exercising his genius and
judgment in drawing parallels between the virtues and exploits of
these modern worthies, and those dignified and almost deified ancient
heroes whose deeds are recorded in Plutarch and Nepos.

"With poetical studies he is furnished by the English operas, which,
added to the prologues, epilogues, and odes of the day, afford him
higher entertainment than he could find in Homer or Virgil: he has
not stored his memory with many epigrams, but of puns has a plentiful
stock, and in _conundra_ is a wholesale dealer. At the same college I
know a most striking contrast, whose reading"---- But as his opponent
would hear no more, my advocate dropped the subject; and I will
follow his example.

It seems probable that when the artist engraved this print he had
only a general reference to an university lecture; the words _datur
vacuum_ were an after-thought. I have seen prints without the
inscription, and in some of the early impressions it is written with
a pen.

The scene is laid at Oxford, and the person reading, universally
admitted to be a Mr. Fisher of Jesus College, _registrat_ of the
university, with whose consent this portrait was taken, and who lived
until the 18th of March 1761. That he should wish to have such a face
handed down to posterity in such company is rather extraordinary;
for all the band, except one man, have been steeped in the stream
of stupidity. This gentleman has the profile of penetration; a
projecting forehead, a Roman nose, thin lips, and a long pointed
chin. His eye is bent on vacancy: it is evidently directed to the
moon-faced idiot that crowns the pyramid, at whose round head,
contrasted by a cornered cap, he with difficulty supresses a laugh.
Three fellows on the right hand of this fat, contented "first-born
transmitter of a foolish face," have most degraded characters, and
are much fitter for the stable than the college. If they ever read,
it must be in Bracken's _Farriery_, or _The Country Gentleman's
Recreation_. Two square-capped students a little beneath the top, one
of whom is holding converse with an adjoining profile, and the other
lifting up his eyebrows and staring without sight, have the same
misfortune that attended our first James--their tongues are rather
too large. A figure in the left-hand corner has shut his eyes to
think; and having, in his attempt to separate a syllogism, placed the
forefinger of his right hand upon his forehead, has fallen asleep.
The professor, a little above the book, endeavours by a projection of
his under lip to assume importance; such characters are not uncommon:
they are more solicitous to look wise than to be so. Of Mr. Fisher it
is not necessary to say much: he sat for his portrait for the express
purpose of having it inserted in the "Lecture!"--We want no other
testimony of his talents. To the whole tribe I bid a long and last
adieu.

      "Ye dull deluders, truth's destructive foes,
      Cold sons of fiction, clad in stupid prose;
      Ye treacherous leaders, who, yourselves in doubt,
      Light up false fires, and send us far about;
      Still may the spider round your pages spin,
      Subtle and slow, her emblematic gin!
      Buried in dust, and lost in silence dwell,
      Most potent, grave, and reverend friends--farewell!"


REHEARSAL OF THE ORATORIO OF JUDITH.

      "O cara, cara! silence all that train;
      Joy to great chaos! let division reign."

[Illustration: THE ORCHESTRA.]

The oratorio of _Judith_ was written by Esquire William Huggins,[176]
honoured by the music of William de Fesch, aided by new painted
scenery and _magnifique_ decoration, and in the year 1733 brought
upon the stage. As De Fesch[177] was a German and a genius, we may
fairly presume it was well set; and there was at that time, as at
this, a sort of musical mania, that paid much greater attention
to sounds than to sense. Notwithstanding all these points in her
favour, when the Jewish heroine had made her theatrical _début_,
and so effectually smote Holofernes,

                              "As to sever
      His head from his great trunk for ever, and for ever,"

the audience compelled her to make her exit. To set aside this
partial and unjust decree, Mr. Huggins appealed to the public,
and printed[178] his oratorio. Though it was adorned with a
frontispiece designed by Hogarth and engraved by Vandergucht, the
world could not be compelled to read, and the unhappy writer had
no other resource than the consolatory reflection, that his work
was superlatively excellent, but unluckily printed in a tasteless
age:[179] a comfortable and solacing self-consciousness, which hath,
I verily believe, prevented many a great genius from becoming his own
executioner.

To paint a sound is impossible; but as far as art can go towards it,
Mr. Hogarth has gone in this print. The tenor, treble, and bass of
these ear-piercing choristers are so decisively discriminated, that
we all but hear them.

The principal figure, whose head, hands, and feet are in equal
agitation, has very properly tied on his spectacles; it would have
been prudent to have tied on his periwig also, for by the energy of
his action he has shaken it from his head, and, absorbed in an eager
attention to true time, is totally unconscious of his loss.

A _gentleman_--pardon me, I meant _a singer_--in a bag-wig,
immediately beneath his uplifted hand, I suspect to be of foreign
growth. _It_ has the engaging air of _an importation from Italy_.

The little figure in the sinister corner is, it seems, intended for a
Mr. Tothall, a woollen-draper, who lived in Tavistock Court, and was
Hogarth's intimate friend.

The name of the performer on his right hand,

                    "Whose growling bass
      Would drown the clarion of the braying ass,"

I cannot learn; nor do I think that this group were meant for
particular portraits, but a general representation of the violent
distortions into which these crotchet-mongers draw their features on
such solemn occasions.

Even the head of the bass viol has air and character: by the band
under the chin, it gives some idea of a professor,[180] or what is I
think called a Mus. D.

The words now singing, "The world shall bow to the Assyrian throne,"
are extracted from Mr. Huggins' oratorio; the etching is in a most
masterly style, and was originally given as a subscription-ticket to
"The Modern Midnight Conversation."

I have seen a small political print on Sir Robert Walpole's
administration, entitled, _Excise, a new Ballad Opera_, of which this
was unquestionably the basis. Beneath it is the following learned and
poetical motto:

                "Experto crede Roberto."

      "Mind how each hireling songster tunes his throat,
      And the vile knight beats time to every note:
      So Nero sung while Rome was all in flames,
      But time shall brand with infamy their names."


ET PLURIMA MORTIS IMAGO.

THE COMPANY OF UNDERTAKERS,

[Illustration: THE COMPANY OF UNDERTAKERS.]

"Beareth sable, an urinal proper, between twelve quack heads of
the second, and twelve cane heads OR, consultant. On a chief[181]
nebulæ,[182] ermine, one complete doctor[183] issuant checkie,
sustaining in his right hand a baton of the second. On his dexter
and sinister side, two demi-doctors, issuant of the second, and two
cane heads issuant of the third: the first having one eye couchant,
towards the dexter side of the escutcheon; the second faced per pale
proper, and gules guardant, with this motto, 'Et plurima mortis
imago.'"

It has been said of the ancients, that they began by attempting to
make physic a science, and failed; of the moderns, that they began
by attempting to make it a trade, and succeeded. This company are
moderns to a man; and if we may judge of their capacities by their
countenances, are indeed a most sapient society. Their practice is
very extensive, and they go about taking guineas,

      "Far as the weekly bills can reach around,
      From Kent Street end, to fam'd St. Giles's pound."

Many of them are unquestionably portraits;[184] but as these grave
and sage descendants of Galen are long since gone to that place where
they before sent their patients, I am unable to ascertain any of
them, except the three who are for distinction placed in the chief
or most honourable part of the escutcheon. Those whom, from their
exalted situation, we may naturally conclude the most distinguished
and sagacious leeches of their day, have marks too obtrusive to be
mistaken. He towards the dexter side of the escutcheon is determined
by an eye in the head of his cane to be the all-accomplished
Chevalier Taylor,[185] in whose marvellous and surprising history,
written by his own hand, and published in 1761, is recorded such
events relative to himself and others[186] as have excited more
astonishment than that incomparable romance, _Don Belianis of
Greece_, _the Arabian Nights_, or _Sir John Mandeville his Travels_.

The centre figure, arrayed in a harlequin jacket, with a bone, or
what the painter denominates a baton, in the right hand, is generally
considered designed for Mrs. Mapp, a masculine woman, daughter to
one Wallin, a bone-setter at Hindon, in Wiltshire. This female
Thalestris, incompatible as it may seem with her sex, adopted her
father's profession, travelled about the country, calling herself
_crazy Sally_; and like another Hercules, did wonders by strength
of arm! An old gentleman, who knew this lady, assures me, that
notwithstanding all the unkind things which her medical brethren
said of her ignorance, etc., she was entitled to an equal portion of
professional praise with many of those who decried her; for not more
than nineteen out of twenty of her patients died under her hands.

The _Grub Street Journal_, and some other papers of that day,
are crowded with paragraphs[189] relative to her cures and her
consequence.

On the sinister side is Doctor Ward, generally called Spot Ward,
from his left cheek being marked with a claret colour. This gentleman
was of a respectable family,[191] and though not highly educated, had
talents very superior to either of his coadjutors.

For the chief, this must suffice; as for the twelve quack heads and
twelve cane heads OR, consultant, united with the cross-bones at the
corners, they have a most mortuary appearance, and do indeed convey a
general image of death.

In the time of Lucian, a philosopher was distinguished by three
things: his avarice, his impudence, and his beard. In the time of
Hogarth, medicine was a mystery,[192] and there were three things
which distinguished the physician: his gravity, his cane head, and
his periwig. With these leading requisites, this venerable party
are most amply gifted. To specify every character is not necessary;
but the upper figure on the dexter side, with a wig like a weeping
willow, should not be overlooked. His lemon-like aspect must curdle
the blood of all his patients. In the countenances of his brethren
there is no want of acids; but however sour each individual was in
his day--

                  "A doctor of renown,
      To none but such as rust in health unknown,
      And save or slay, this privilege they claim,
      Or death, or life, the bright reward's the same."[193]

Ward, Taylor, and Mapp were considered as a proper trio by other
persons besides Hogarth: some lines beginning as follows, were
written about the latter end of 1736:--

      "In this bright age three wonder-workers rise,
      Whose operations puzzle all the wise;
      To lame and blind, by dint of manual slight,
      Mapp gives the use of limbs, and Taylor sight.
      But greater Ward," etc.


GROUP OF HEADS

INTENDED TO DISPLAY THE DIFFERENCE BETWIXT CHARACTER AND CARICATURE.

  For a further explanation of this difference, see the Preface to
  _Joseph Andrews_.[194]

[Illustration: CHARACTERS      CARICATVRAS]

"In Lairesse; still more in Poussin; and most of all in Raphael;
simplicity, greatness of conception, tranquillity, superiority,
sublimity the most exalted! Raphael can never be enough studied,
although he only exercised his mind on the rarest forms, the grandest
traits of countenance.

"In Hogarth, alas, how little of the noble, how little of beauteous
expression, is to be found in this, I had almost said, false prophet
of beauty! But what an immense treasure of features, of meanness in
excess, vulgarity the most disgusting, humour the most irresistible,
and vice the most unmanly!"--Lavater's _Essays on Physiognomy_.

In this rhapsody there is some truth; but the philosopher of Zurich
should have recollected that Hogarth could not be expected to attain
what he never attempted. Sublimity exalted, simplicity angelic,
and the ideal grandeur of superior beings, he left to those who
delineated subjects which demanded such characters; and contented
himself with representing Nature, not as it ought to be, but as he
found it. That he had little reverence for the dreams of those who
portrayed imaginary beings, I have had occasion to remark; but that
he respected their waking thoughts is evinced in this print, where
the heads of three figures from Raphael's Cartoons are introduced
under the article character, in opposition to the fantastic
caricatures of Cavalier Chezze, Annibal Characi,[195] and Leonard
da Vinci: the last of whom, I am very sorry to see so classed; for
to his anatomical knowledge the late Dr. Hunter gave the strongest
testimony, by declaring his intention to publish a volume illustrated
by the designs of this artist, as anatomical studies.

I have often seen three engravings from the same picture, by an
Italian, an English, and a French artist, which, with a tolerable
correctness of outline, have in their general characters a
dissimilarity that is astonishing. Each engraver gives his national
air. The three heads from Raphael, at the bottom of this print, are
etched by Hogarth, and sufficiently marked to determine the master
from whence they are copied; but their grandeur, elevation, and
simplicity is totally evaporated.

With angels, apostles, and saints, he was not happy. In the group
placed above them he has been more successful. Hogarth was less of a
mannerist than almost any other artist; for though there are above
a hundred profiles, I discover no copy from another painter; no
repetition of his own works: they are all delineated from nature, and
the most careless observer must discover many resemblances: to the
physiognomist, they are an inexhaustible study.

This print was given as a subscription-ticket to the six plates of
"Marriage à la Mode."


SARAH MALCOLM.

  _Executed opposite Mitre Court, Fleet Street, on the 7th of March
  1733, for the murder of Mrs. Lydia Duncombe, Elizabeth Harrison,
  and Anne Price._

  "How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none?"

[Illustration: SARAH MALCOLM.]

The portrait of this sanguinary wretch Mr. Hogarth painted in
Newgate; and to Sir James Thornhill, who accompanied him, he made the
following observation: "I see by this woman's features that she is
capable of any wickedness."

Of his skill in physiognomy I entertain a very high opinion; but
as Sarah sat for her picture after condemnation, I suspect his
observation to resemble those prophecies which were made after the
completion of events they professed to foretell. She has a locked-up
mouth, wide nostrils, and a penetrating eye, with a general air that
indicates close observation and masculine courage; but I do not
discover either depravity or cruelty; though her conduct in this, as
well as some other horrible transactions,[196] evinced an uncommon
portion of both, and proved her a Lady Macbeth in low life.

Her infatuation in lurking about the Temple after perpetration of the
crime for which she suffered, it is difficult to account for upon any
other principle than that general remorse and horror which tortures
the minds of those who shed a brother's blood; and that overruling
Providence, which by means most strange brings their guilt to light
and their crimes to punishment;

      "For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
      With most miraculous organ."

The circumstances which attended her commitment and execution were
briefly as follows:--

At noon, on Sunday the fourth of February 1733, Mrs. Duncombe, a
widow lady, upwards of eighty years old (who lived up four pair
of stairs, next staircase to the Inner Temple library); Elizabeth
Harrison, another elderly person who was her companion; and Anne
Price, her servant, about seventeen years of age, were found murdered
in their beds. The maid-servant, who was supposed to be murdered
first, had her throat cut from ear to ear; but by her cap being off,
and her hair much entangled, it was thought she had struggled. The
companion, it was supposed, was strangled; though there were two or
three wounds in her throat that appeared as if they had been given by
a nail. Mrs. Duncombe was probably smothered, and killed last, as she
was found lying across the bed with a gown on; though the others were
in bed. A trunk in the room was broke open and rifled.

About one o'clock at night, a Mr. Kerrell, who had chambers on the
same staircase, came home, and to his great surprise found Sarah
Malcolm, who was his laundress, in his room: he asked her how she
came to be there at so unseasonable an hour, and if she had heard of
any one being taken up for the murder? She replied, "that no person
had yet been taken up; but a gentleman who had chambers beneath, and
had been absent two or three days, was violently suspected." "Be that
as it may," said Mr. Kerrell, "you were Mrs. Duncombe's laundress,
and no one who knew her shall ever come into these chambers until her
murderer is discovered: pack up your things and go away." While she
was thus employed, Kerrell observing a bundle upon the floor, and
thinking her behaviour suspicious, called a watchman to whom he gave
her in charge. When she was taken away, and he searched his rooms
with more care, he found several bundles of linen, and a silver pint
tankard, with the handle bloodied. This confirmed his suspicions,
and, accompanied by a friend, he went down stairs, and asked the
watchman where he had taken Malcolm? This faithful guardian of the
night very coolly replied, "that she had promised to come again
next day, and he had let her go." Mr. Kerrell declaring that if she
was not immediately produced he would commit him to Newgate in her
stead, the fellow went in search of her; and though her lodging
was in Shoreditch, he found this infatuated woman sitting between
two other watchman at the Temple gate. She was then committed to
Newgate; and there was found concealed in her hair, eighteen guineas,
twenty moidores, five broad pieces, five crown pieces, and a few
shillings.[197]

On her examination before Sir Richard Brocas, she confessed to
sharing in the produce of the robbery, but declared herself innocent
of the murders; asserting upon oath, that Thomas and James Alexander,
and Mary Tracy, were principal parties in the whole transaction.
Notwithstanding this, the coroner's jury brought in their verdict of
wilful murder against Sarah Malcolm only, it not then appearing that
any other person was concerned. Her confession they considered as a
mere subterfuge, none knowing such people as she pretended were her
accomplices.

A few days after, a boy about seventeen years of age was hired as
a servant by a person who kept the Red Lion alehouse at Bridewell
Bridge; and hearing it said in his master's house that Sarah Malcolm
had given in an information against one Thomas and James Alexander,
and Mary Tracy, said to his master, "My name is James Alexander, and
I have a brother named Thomas, and my mother nursed a woman where
Sarah Malcolm lived." Upon this acknowledgment, the master sent
to Alstone, turnkey of Newgate; and the boy being confronted with
Malcolm, she immediately charged him with being concealed under Mrs.
Duncombe's bed, previous to letting in Tracy and his brother, by
whom and himself the murders were committed. On this evidence he was
detained; and frankly telling where his brother and Tracy were to
be found, they also were taken into custody, and brought before Sir
Richard Brocas. Here Malcolm persisted in her former asseverations;
but the magistrate thought her unworthy of credit, and would have
discharged them; but being advised by some persons present to act
with more caution, committed them all to Newgate. Their distress was
somewhat alleviated by the gentlemen of the Temple Society, who,
fully convinced of their innocence, allowed each of them one shilling
per diem during the time of their confinement. This ought to be
recorded to the honour of the _law_, as it has not often been the
_practice_ of the profession.

Though Malcolm's presence of mind seems to have forsaken her at the
time when she lurked about the Temple, without making any attempt
to escape, and left the produce of her theft in situations that
rendered discovery inevitable, she by the time of trial recovered
her recollection, made a most acute and ingenious defence,[198] and
cross-examined the witnesses with all the black-robed artifice of a
gentleman bred up to the bar. The circumstances were, however, so
clear as to leave no doubt in the minds of the court, and the jury
brought in their verdict--guilty.

On Wednesday the 7th of March, about ten in the morning, she was
taken in a cart from Newgate to the place of execution, facing Mitre
Court, Fleet Street,[199] and there suffered death on a gibbet
erected for the occasion. She was neatly dressed in a crape mourning
gown, white apron, sarcenet hood, and black gloves: carried her
head aside with an air of affectation, and was said to be painted.
She was attended by Doctor Middleton of St. Bride's, her friend
Mr. Peddington, and Guthrie, the ordinary of Newgate. She appeared
devout and penitent, and earnestly requested Peddington would print
a paper she had given him[200] the night before, which contained,
not a confession of the murder, but protestations of her innocence;
and a recapitulation of what she had before said relative to the
Alexanders, etc. This wretched woman, though only twenty-five years
of age, was so lost to all sense of her situation, as to rush into
eternity with a lie upon her lips. She much wished to see Mr.
Kerrell, and acquitted him of every imputation thrown out at her
trial.

After she had conversed some time with the ministers, and the
executioner began to do his duty, she fainted away; but recovering,
was in a short space afterwards executed. Her corpse was carried to
an undertaker's on Snow Hill, where multitudes of people resorted,
and gave money to see it: among the rest, a gentleman in deep
mourning kissed her, and gave the attendants half-a-crown.

Professor Martin dissected this notorious murderess, and afterwards
presented her skeleton, in a glass case, to the Botanic Gardens at
Cambridge, where it still remains.

The portrait from which this print was engraved is remarkably well
painted, and now in the possession of Mr. Josiah Boydell, at West
End. It was probably copied from that which was painted in Newgate,
which was in the collection of Mr. Horace Walpole, at Strawberry
Hill. It will not appear extraordinary that Hogarth should have
delineated her twice, when we consider, that from the print he
published there were four copies, besides one in wood, which was
engraved for the _Gentleman's Magazine_.

Thus eager were the public to possess the portrait of this most
atrocious woman. All these delineations were what the painters call
half-lengths; her whole figure was never engraved, except for this
work.


COLUMBUS BREAKING THE EGG.

      "Why on these shores are we with pride survey'd,
      Admir'd as heroes, and as gods obey'd!
      Unless great acts superior merit prove,
      And vindicate the bounteous powers above;
      That when, with wond'ring eyes, our martial bands
      Behold our deeds transcending our commands,
      Such, they may cry, deserve the sov'reign state,
      Whom those that envy dare not imitate?"

[Illustration: COLUMBUS AND THE EGG.]

Such is the animated apostrophe of Sarpedon in the energetic numbers
of Alexander Pope, and it is not more appropriate to Glaucus than to
the illustrious character who gives the subject of this print. Had
a Greek discovered America, Sculpture would have erected statues and
raised altars to his honour; Architecture built temples to perpetuate
his fame; and by Poetry he must have been deified.

The new creation of Columbus--for a new creation it may be
denominated--absorbed every former discovery, and sunk to
insignificance the boasted conquests of Alexander. Previous to this
voyage a world of water formed what was deemed an insurmountable
barrier between the inhabitants of one planet;--"He spread his canvas
wings, and pass'd the mound."

As our own Newton unveiled the celestial globe,[201] and removed that
cloud which had before shadowed the face of heaven, Columbus, from
the bare inspection of a map of one world, concluded that there must
be another. He sailed west, brought together continents that nature
had severed, and was the first adventurer in a voyage which, from its
consequent enterprises, has added more square miles to the dominions
of European powers than the sovereigns by whom he was employed
possessed acres.[202] His perseverance must have been equal to
his genius; for he had to struggle with the rooted prejudices of his
contemporaries,[203] as well as the freezing indifference of those
monarchs to whom he tendered his service.

Genoa, which was his native country, treated his scheme as visionary.
Our seventh Henry, mean, cold-blooded, and avaricious, would not
hazard the loss of that treasure which he adored; and the Emperor had
neither gold to fit out a fleet nor harbours to receive shipping.
The attention of John the Second of Portugal was engrossed by
the coast of Africa, and Charles the Eighth of France was in his
minority. The Venetians had maritime power, and maritime spirit;
but Columbus was a Genoese, and had too much of the _amor patriæ_
to throw such advantages as he foresaw would accrue to those who
prosecuted his plan into the hands of the rivals and enemies of his
country. He fixed his hopes on the court of Spain, and his hopes
were not disappointed. Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile
had by their marriage united all Spain under one dominion: to them
he applied; and, with a perseverance that could only be supported
by a conscious certainty that his project, if undertaken, must be
successful, attended their court eight tedious years! At the end of
this time, two merchants, trusting to royal security, and advancing
seventeen thousand ducats towards fitting out the vessels, Columbus
received his patent; and on the 23d of August 1492 set sail, with
three ships only, from the port of Palos in Andalusia.[204]

In less than a month after his departure from the Canaries, he
discovered the first island in America;[205] and like our immortal
Admiral Drake, found the fair harvest he had hoped to reap in great
danger of being blighted by the murmuring and discontent of his
crew. To check this mutinous spirit required both resolution and
address, and in Columbus they were united. He quieted his companions,
and, with true catholic formality, baptized his new discovery St.
Salvadore. He soon after made the Lucayan Islands, together with
those of Cuba and Hispaniola, now called St. Domingo; and, at the
end of nine months, returned with some of the natives, a quantity
of gold, and sundry curious productions of the places he had
visited,--all of which he laid at the feet of Isabella and Ferdinand.

Their Majesties were neither insensible of his merit nor ungrateful
for his services: they suffered him to be seated, and added a
privilege heretofore confined to grandees--the honour of being
covered in their presence; and crowned their favours by creating him
admiral and viceroy of whatever he should add to their dominions.

Columbus having found a new empire, and explored a new world, was
now considered as more than mortal. Those who had loudly decried
his plan as the chimerical project of a madman, were most eager to
patronize the heaven-born navigator, and embark under his command. He
a second time set sail, not with three small vessels, but an armament
of seventeen ships, manned by a crew who almost adored him, and
discovered Jamaica, the Caribbees, and several other islands.

His elevation had been too sudden to be permanent; his talents
were too transcendent to be seen without envy. Notwithstanding the
services which he had rendered to Spain, the dignities with which he
was invested, and the flattering prospects with which he set sail, he
was brought home prisoner, by judges who had been sent on board the
same vessel as spies upon his conduct; and arrived at the court where
he had a short time before been covered with laurels--loaded with
chains.

For this mortifying degradation he was indebted to Fonseca, Bishop of
Burgos, the intendant of the expedition. Isabella, ashamed of seeing
a man to whom she was indebted for the brightest jewel in her crown
thus dishonoured, ordered him to be immediately set at liberty; but
it does not appear that either queen or king punished the person by
whose machinations he had been so ignominiously treated. Whether
his royal protectors feared that he would retain whatever he might
acquire, wished personally to scrutinize his actions, or had any
other inducement, he was not suffered to leave Spain for upwards of
four years. At the expiration of that time he was sent upon another
voyage, discovered the continent at six degrees distant from the
equator; and saw that part of the coast on which Carthagena has been
since built.

After several years' absence he returned to Spain, and in the year
1506 died at Valladolid. By the king's command, he was honoured with
a magnificent funeral; and on the marble which covered his remains
was the following concise and characteristic epitaph: COLUMBUS GAVE
CASTILE AND LEON A NEW WORLD.

By the success of his first voyage, doubt had been changed into
admiration; from the honours with which he was rewarded, admiration
degenerated into envy. To deny that his discovery carried in its
train consequences infinitely more important than had resulted from
any made since the creation, was impossible. His enemies had recourse
to another expedient, and boldly asserted that there was neither
wisdom in the plan nor hazard in the enterprise.

When he was once at a Spanish supper, the company took this ground;
and being by his narrative furnished with the reflections which
had induced him to undertake his voyage, and the course that he
had pursued in its completion, sagaciously observed, that "it was
impossible for any man a degree above an idiot to have failed of
success. The whole process was so obvious, it must have been seen by
a man who was half blind! Nothing could be so easy!"

"It is not difficult, now I have pointed out the way," was the answer
of Columbus; "but easy as it will appear, when you are possessed
of my method, I do not believe that, without such instruction, any
person present could place one of these eggs upright on the table."
The cloth, knives, and forks were thrown aside, and two of the party,
placing their eggs as required, kept them steady with their fingers.
One of them swore there could be no other way. "We will try," said
the navigator; and giving an egg, which he held in his hand, a smart
stroke upon the table, it remained upright.[206] The emotions which
this excited in the company are expressed in their countenances. In
the be-ruffed booby at his left hand, it raises astonishment; he is
a DEAR ME! man, of the same family with Sterne's Simple Traveller,
and came from _Amiens only yesterday_. The fellow behind him, beating
his head, curses his own stupidity; and the whiskered ruffian, with
his forefinger on the egg, is in his heart cursing Columbus. As to
the two veterans on the other side, they have lived too long to be
agitated with trifles: he who wears a cap exclaims, "Is this all!"
and the other, with a bald head, "By St. Jago, I did not think
of that!" In the face of Columbus there is not that violent and
excessive triumph which is exhibited by little characters on little
occasions: he is too elevated to be overbearing; and, pointing to
the conical solution of his problematical conundrum, displays a calm
superiority, and silent internal contempt.

Two eels, twisted round the eggs upon the dish, are introduced
as specimens of the line of beauty; which is again displayed on
the table-cloth, and hinted at on the knife blade. In all these
curves there is peculiar propriety; for the etching was given as a
receipt-ticket to the _Analysis_, where this favourite undulating
line forms the basis of his system.[207]

In the print of Columbus there is evident reference to the
criticisms[208] on what Hogarth called his own discovery; and in
truth the connoisseurs' remarks on the painter were dictated by a
similar spirit to those of the critics on the navigator: they first
asserted there was no such line, and when he had proved that there
was, gave the honour of discovery to Lomazzo, Michael Angelo, etc.
etc.


THE FIVE ORDERS OF PERIWIGS.

AS THEY WERE WORN AT THE LATE CORONATION, MEASURED ARCHITECTONICALLY.

[Illustration: (the five orders of periwigs)]

  _Advertisement (inserted under the Print)._

  "In about seventeen years[210] will be completed, in six volumes
  folio, price fifteen guineas, _The Exact Measurements of the
  Periwigs of the Ancients_; taken from the Statues, Bustos, and
  Basso Relievos of Athens, Palmyra, Balbec, and Rome; by Modesto,
  Periwig-meter, from Lagado. _N.B._--None will be sold but to
  Subscribers.--Published as the Act directs, Oct. 15, 1761, by W.
  Hogarth."

Previous to this print being published, Mr. Stuart, generally
denominated Athenian Stuart, advertised that he intended to publish
by subscription a book, entitled _The Antiquities of Athens_,
measured and delineated by himself and Nicholas Revitt, painters
and architects.[211] The first volume of this excellent work
was published in 1762; it received, and we may add it deserved,
approbation from every man who had taste enough to relish those
stupendous monuments of ancient art, which the barbarians who now
possess the country either destroy or suffer to moulder into dust.
"To leave a trace behind" was the object of Stuart's book; but
Hogarth had so long accustomed himself to laugh at the grand gusto of
the Grecian school, that I can readily suppose he at length thought
any plan which might damp the public ardour for antiquity would be a
correction of national taste.[212] With this view he published the
print now under consideration; and if ridicule were a test of truth,
it must have effected his purpose. Minute accuracy is the leading
feature of Stuart's book; minute accuracy is the leading point in
Hogarth's satire.

Under the shadowy umbrage of his remarkable wigs he has introduced
several remarkable characters.

Two profiles in the upper row, under the title "Episcopal," or
"Parsonic," are said to be intended for Doctor Warburton, late Bishop
of Gloucester, and Doctor Samuel Squire, then Bishop of St. David's.

The next row is inscribed "Old Peerian," or "Aldermanic;" the first
face, in every sense _full_, is said to be meant for Lord Melcombe;
but considering the class he is placed in, may as well represent some
sagacious alderman of the day. At the opposite end of the same line
is that remarkable winged periwig, worn by Sir Samuel Fludyer, Lord
Mayor of London, at the coronation.

A row beneath is made up of the "Lexonic," and under it is the
"Composite," or half-natural, and the "Queerinthian," or Queue de
Renard. Even with them is a barber's block, crowned with a pair
of compasses, and marked "Athenian measure." This I believe was
intended as a caricature of Mr. Stuart, and considered as such is an
overcharged resemblance. Above the block is a table of references,
and facing it a scale, divided into nodules, or noddles; nasos,
or noses; and minutes. To enter fully into the spirit of this
whimsical print, the spectator must be acquainted with the terms of
architecture.

At the bottom is a portrait of her Majesty, distinguished by the
simplicity of her head-dress, and five right honourable ladies,
whose different ranks are pointed out by their coronets, and who
all wear the _tryglyph membretta_ drop, or neck-lock. Those who
knew their persons will find no difficulty in ascertaining their
respective titles. The bed-chamber ladies in 1761 were--Duchess of
Ancaster, Duchess of Hamilton, Countess of Effingham, Countess of
Northumberland, Viscountess Weymouth, Viscountess Bolingbroke.[213]
About the centre of the print is the following inscription:--

"Lest the beauty of these capitals should chiefly depend as usual on
the delicacy of the engraving, the author hath etched them with his
own hand."

They are etched with spirit, and in spelling--incorrect as can be
desired by Mr. Hogarth's greatest enemy. The word Advertisement is,
in latter impressions, corrected by an _e_ being inserted on the
Countess of Northumberland's left shoulder.


THE BENCH.

  "CHARACTER, CARICATURE, AND OUTRE."

[Illustration: THE BENCH.]

"There are hardly any two things more essentially different than
character and caricature; nevertheless they are usually confounded
and mistaken for each other, on which account this explanation is
attempted.

"It has ever been allowed, that when a character is strongly marked
in the living face, it may be considered as an index of the mind, to
express which with any degree of justness in painting, requires the
utmost efforts of a great master. Now, that which has of late years
got the name of caricature, is, or ought to be, totally divested of
every stroke that hath a tendency to good drawing; it may be said
to be a species of lines that are produced rather by the hand of
chance than of skill: for the early scrawlings of a child, which do
but barely hint an idea of a human face, will always be found to
be like some person or other, and will often form such a comical
resemblance, as in all probability the most eminent caricatures of
these times will not be able to equal with design; because their
ideas of objects are so much the more perfect than children's, that
they will unavoidably introduce some kind of drawing: for all the
humorous effects of the fashionable manner of caricaturing chiefly
depend on the surprise we are under at finding ourselves caught with
any sort of similitude in objects absolutely remote in their kind.
Let it be observed, the more remote in their nature, the greater is
the excellence of these pieces. As a proof of this, I remember a
famous caricature of a certain Italian singer, that struck at first
sight, which consisted only of a straight perpendicular line, with a
dot over it. As to the French word _outré_, it is different from the
foregoing, and signifies nothing more than the exaggerated outline of
a figure, all the parts of which may be in other respects a perfect
and true picture of human nature. A giant or a dwarf may be called a
common man _outré_; so any part, as a nose, or leg, made bigger or
less than it ought to be, is that part _outré_, which is all that is
to be understood by this word, injudiciously used to the prejudice
of character."--_See_ Excess, _Analysis of Beauty_, chap. 6.

The unfinished group of heads in the upper part of this print was
added by the author in October 1764, and was intended as a further
illustration of what is here said concerning character, caricature,
and _outré_. He worked upon it the day before his death, which
happened the 26th of that month.

The system which Mr. Hogarth has laboured to establish in the above
inscription, and which I think the genuine system, he has not
illustrated with his usual felicity in the print to which it is
annexed.

It was published in 1758, and in its first state exhibited a view of
the Court of Common Pleas, and portraits of the four sages who then
sat on that Bench.[214] Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Willes is the
principal figure; on his right hand is Sir Edward Clive, and on his
left Mr. Justice Bathurst, and the Honourable William Noel.

In this state the print gave character only; for though the robes of
my Lord Chief-Justice may have a shade of the _outré_, they in no
degree approach to that caricature which the unfinished group added
to the plate in 1764 was intended to display. Had the artist lived to
finish them, they might have given weight to his assertions, but in
their present state do not much illuminate his doctrine.

The picture, from which each of the prints considerably vary,
was originally the property of Sir George Hay, and is now in the
possession of Mr. Edwards.


THE BEGGARS' OPERA.

      "The charge is prepar'd; the lawyers are met;
        The judges all rang'd (a terrible show!)
      I go undismayed,--for death is a debt,
        A debt on demand,--so take what I owe.
      Then farewell, my love,--dear charmers, adieu;
      Contented I die,--'tis the better for you.
      Here ends all dispute the rest of our lives,
      For this way at once I please all my wives."

[Illustration: BEGGARS' OPERA ACT III.]

From the third act of this very instructive and popular opera, Mr.
Hogarth has selected the subject of this print. The scene is laid in
Newgate, and the point of time seems to be about the fifty-third air,
which is sung by the elegant and accomplished


CAPTAIN MACHEATH.

      "Which way shall I turn me? how shall I decide?
      Wives, the day of our death, are as fond as a bride.
      One wife is too much for most husbands to hear;
      But two at a time, there's no mortal can bear.
      This way, and that way, and which way I will,
      What would comfort the one, t'other wife would take ill.

POLLY.

  "But if his own misfortunes have made him insensible to mine,--a
  father, sure, will be more compassionate. Dear, dear sir, sink
  the material evidence, and bring him off at his trial,--Polly
  upon her knees begs it of you.

      "When my hero in court appears,
        And stands arraign'd for his life,
      Then think of poor Polly's tears,
        For ah! poor Polly's his wife.
      Like the sailor he holds up his hand,
        Distress'd on the dashing wave;
      To die a dry death at land
        Is as bad as a wat'ry grave.
      And alas, poor Polly!
        Alack, and well-a-day!
      Before I was in love,
        Oh! every month was May.

LUCY.

  "If Peachum's heart is hardened, sure you, sir, will have more
  compassion on a daughter: I know the evidence is in your power.
  How then can you be a tyrant to me?

      "When he holds up his hand, arraign'd for his life,
      O think of your daughter, and think I'm his wife!
      What are cannons, or bombs, or clashing of swords?
      For death is more certain by witnesses' words.
      Then nail up their lips: that dread thunder allay;
      And each month of my life will hereafter be May."

For more of Mr. Gay's moral dialogue I have not room.

In the year 1727, it was performed sixty-three nights successively,
and in the year 1791 retains its primitive attractions, and is become
what the Drury Lane diary styles a stock play.

That it is countenanced by the public is an apology for the managers:

      "For they who live to please, must please to live;"

but that it should have the sanction of the Chamberlain is
astonishing.[215]

We are told in Mr. Boswell's _Johnson_, that when Gay showed this
opera to his patron, the late worthy Duke of Queensberry, his Grace's
observation was, "This is a very odd thing, Gay; it is either a very
good thing, or a very bad thing." It proved the former, beyond the
warmest expectations of the author or his friends; though Quin, whose
knowledge of the public taste cannot be questioned, was so doubtful
of its success, that he refused to play the part of Macheath, which
was therefore given to Walker. In the same volumes I learn that Dr.
Johnson did not apprehend that the performance of this opera had the
pernicious influence which is ascribed to it.[216] For the Doctor's
talents and virtues I have a reverence bordering upon idolatry: in
questions of morality he can seldom be contradicted, and without
the strongest conviction that in this point he is wrong, I should
tremble to dissent from his opinion; but my deductions are drawn
from examples that to me are conclusive. With three instances that
I had an accidental opportunity of seeing, I was very forcibly
impressed. Two boys, under nineteen years of age, children of worthy
and respectable parents, fled from their friends, and pursued courses
that threatened an ignominious termination to their lives. After much
search they were found engaged in midnight depredations, and in each
of their pockets was the _Beggars' Opera_.

A boy of seventeen, some years since tried at the Old Bailey for
what there was every reason to think his first offence, acknowledged
himself so delighted with the spirited and heroic character of
Macheath, that on quitting the theatre he laid out his last guinea
in the purchase of a pair of pistols, and stopped a gentleman on the
highway.[217]

The accumulation of similiar facts is not necessary. Those who think
that lively dialogue, and natural though vulgar repartee, can atone
for what gives new attractions to vice, will, I suppose, continue
to sanction this performance by attending the representation. If
anything could balance the baneful influence it is calculated to
disseminate, Gay must be allowed the praise of having attempted to
stem Italia's liquid stream, which at that time meandered through
every alley, street, and square in the metropolis; the honour of
having almost silenced the effeminate song of that absurd exotic,
Italian opera, which a little previous to this time was the grand
pursuit of the fashionable world. For to the dishonour of true
taste, to the disgrace of common sense, the discords and jarrings of
Cuzzoni, Faustina, and Senesino, excited as much attention, and were
entered into with as much party zeal, as were the political contests
between Lord Chatham and Sir Robert Walpole, or those still more
recent, between Mr. Charles Fox and Mr. William Pitt.[218]

The method Gay took to rout this army of unnatural auxiliaries
does great honour to his generalship. A new disorder had been
imported from the Continent, and like the plague which was wont to
be imported from Turkey, infected our capital. To lay an embargo
upon sound was impossible; to make an echo perform quarantine,
ridiculous!--he took a better mode, drew up song against sing-song,
and to the soft sonnetteering stanza of Italy, opposed the nervous
old ballad of Britain. He brought into the field the whole force
of three kingdoms, and took his tunes from the most popular songs
of the ancient bards of England, Scotland, and Wales. _Britons
strike home_ was the word; _Chevy Chase_ led the van, was followed
by a _Soldier and a Sailor_ singing _All Joy to great Cæsar_, and
chorussed by _Shenkin of a Noble Race_; when _An old Woman clothed
in Gray_, with a _Bonny Broom_ in her hand, swept the whole swarm
of buzzing caterpillars _Over the Hills and far away_. Goldoni's
opera, I VIAGGIATORI RIDICOLI TORNATI IN ITALIA,[219] was in a degree
realized.[220]

For Italian music, William Hogarth had about as much respect as John
Gay, and was therefore so well pleased with a subject which threw it
into ridicule, that he not only painted it three times, but has in
several of his miscellaneous prints made these senseless sounds one
great object of his satire.

The picture from which this is copied was painted in the year 1729,
for Mr. Rich of Covent Garden Theatre; at the sale of his effects
in 1762, it was purchased by the late Duke of Leeds,[221] and is
at this time (1806) in the collection of the noble peer who now
bears that title. When the late Duke permitted Messrs. Boydell to
copy it, the print was engraved by Mr. Blake. To these volumes
is annexed an outline descriptive of the characters, which it is
therefore unnecessary to enumerate in this page.[222] They afford a
good example of the dresses, and what was then called the dignified
manner, of the old school. That any woman should admire such a figure
as Mr. Walker in Macheath, must excite a degree of astonishment;
but to believe for a moment that so attractive a female as Miss
Fenton would choose such an Adonis,[223] must, even in the year 1727,
require a very large portion of dramatic faith. Her charms have
fascinated the Duke of Bolton: his eye is fixed on her face, and his
mind wholly engrossed by the contemplation of that beauty which he
afterwards made his own. Mr. Rich, and Mr. Cock the auctioneer, are
properly enough represented as totally inattentive to the scene.
The poet immediately behind them, saturated by public approbation,
pays no greater regard to the performance than is displayed by
the manager. It had made _Gay rich_, and _Rich gay_, and that was
sufficient.

As Hogarth was invariably faithful in delineating what he saw, I dare
believe the characters are represented as they were. Considered in
that point, without regard to other merit, it has quite as much value
as many groups of portraits which are published in this our day, and
denominated "Historical Pictures."

In the beginning of the year 1729, Hogarth painted for a Sir
Archibald Grant two original pictures, "The Committee,"[224] and the
"Beggars' Opera;" but though Sir Archibald paid half-price for them
at the time he gave the order, I cannot positively assert that they
were ever in his possession, for they afterwards got into the hands
of Mr. Huggins, at the sale of whose effects the latter was purchased
by Doctor Monkhouse, of Queen's College, Oxford. It has a frame with
a carved bust of Gay at the top. The late Horace Lord Orford had a
sketch of a scene in the same play.


THE INDIAN EMPEROR; OR, THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO:

[Illustration: THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO.]

_As performed at Mr. Conduit's, Master of the Mint, before the Duke
of Cumberland, etc._

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  CORTEZ.      CYDARIA.      ALMERIA.      ALIBECK.

ACT. IV.--SCENE 4th.--_A Prison._

CYDARIA.

      "More cruel than the tiger o'er his spoil,
      And falser than the weeping crocodile;
      Can you add vanity to guilt, and take
      A pride to hear the conquests which you make?
      Go; publish your renown, let it be said
      You have a woman, and that lov'd betray'd."

CORTEZ.

      "With what injustice is my faith accused!
      Life! freedom! empire! I at once refus'd;
      And would again ten thousand times for you."

ALMERIA.

      "She'll have too great content to find him true;
      And therefore since his love is not for me,
      I'll help to make my rival's misery.
      Spaniard, I never thought you false before;
      Can you at once two mistresses adore?
      Keep the poor soul no longer in suspense,
      Your change is such, it does not need defence."

The scene of Hogarth's last drama was Newgate; and in this it is a
Mexican prison, where his pigmy personages are playing their little
parts in one of Dryden's heroic tragedies.

That these minor performers should prefer rhyme to prose, I can
readily conceive--the jingling of verse is a great help to your short
memory; but that Dryden, "the great high priest of all the Nine,"
should so far deviate from nature and outrage common sense as thus
to fetter his dramatic dialogue, is to be accounted for on no other
principle than the vile taste of Charles the Second's vile Court. The
play is dedicated to the most excellent and most illustrious Princess
Anne, Duchess of Monmouth and Buccleuch, wife to the most illustrious
and high-born James Duke of Monmouth; and by that dedication[225]
appears to have been warmly patronized by the most eminent persons of
wit and honour.

It is a sequel to the _Indian Queen_, written by Dryden and Sir
Robert Howard, which was published two years before. Of this
connection between the two tragedies, notice was given to the
audience by printed bills distributed at the door,[226]--an
expedient which the Duke of Buckingham very happily ridicules in
_The Rehearsal_, when Bayes boasts of the number of bills he has
printed, to instil into the audience some conception of his plot. By
the age of the warlike William of Cumberland, I conjecture that these
embryotic heroes and heroines strutted away their little hour about
the year 1731; and though the play which they are enacting is beneath
the blazing genius of John Dryden, it is well worthy the puny powers
of these puny performers.[227] Lady Sophia Fermor, who plays the
part of Almeria, in 1744 married Lord Granville, and died in 1750.
The prompter was a Mr. T. Hill; and though this reverend gentleman is
in rather too conspicuous a situation, he is not quite so obtrusive
an object as the prompter at the Opera House. The governess playing
with one of the children was Lady Deloraine. Miss Conduit, who
appears as Alibeck, was daughter to Catherine, the niece of Sir Isaac
Newton, and in 1740 married Lord Lymington, eldest son to John first
Earl of Portsmouth.

The names and additions of three of the auditors are inserted under
the small print. One of the figures has a resemblance to the courtly
Lord Chesterfield. Upon the chimney-piece is the bust of Sir Isaac
Newton, and it is fair to conjecture that the two framed portraits
represent Mr. and Mrs. Conduit.

The figure leaning on the back of a chair is said to be intended for
the Duke of Montagu; and the two in the background, for the Duke and
Duchess of Richmond.

Hogarth's original painting is the property of Lord Holland.

[Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)]



THE END.


The writer of this catalogue is now come to his last chapter, and has
before him the last plate that Hogarth engraved, which is properly
denominated the _Finis_ to that great painter's works.

Of the various opinions which the numerous readers of these his
volumes will form at this his conclusion, he can have no certain
judgment; but fears that some of them may be thus anticipated.

The votary of comedy, who considers Hogarth as a mere burlesque
painter, with whom he only wishes to laugh, will deem this book
too grave; while the saturnine spirit, that looks at him as a
mere sermonic moralist, will say it is not grave enough. The man
who supposes that every character was individual, and expects the
scandalous chronicle of those who were satirized by the artist, will
probably complain that there is too little anecdote; while he that
considers this as a frivolous, gossiping, and anecdotish age, will
say there is too much.

Some will observe that these volumes are too long, and in the
style of a tired mariner, exult that they see land. In this their
exultation the writer most sincerely participates, but at the same
time acknowledges (so predominant is vanity) that he trusts there
are who would not regret if the work were still longer, who will
correct what they find erroneous without triumphing in their superior
sagacity, and candidly forgive the writer's weakness without too much
glorying in their own strength.

From the pedantic and quizzical connoisseur I expect no mercy, but
suppose that the book and the writer will be arraigned and condemned
in manner and form following:--

"I took up these volumes with the expectation of seeing all the
characters that Hogarth introduced determined, and all his variations
recorded. With respect to the characters, some are mistaken, and
others are omitted; and as to the variations, few are noticed.[228]
Concerning a multitude of invaluable prints, which have singly
produced three times as much as the volume of his prints in their
present state sells for, there is not even a catalogue; there are
many pages of extraneous matter, which I had not patience to read;
every iota of Hogarth I understood without the assistance of this
book."

With all possible humility the author declareth, that for your use or
benefit he did not compile it.

      "Laugh where you may, be candid where you can."

That you may know some of the characters of which the writer is
ignorant, he willingly acknowledges; that you may guess at many,
where he sees no ground for conjecture, he cheerfully admits; and
that both you and himself are very frequently mistaken, he firmly
believes.

The prints are described as they are copied from the present state
of the plates, and the material alterations incidentally noticed.
However great the merit of the tankards and teapots, the waiters and
coats of arms, to reduce them did not come into the present plan; to
commemorate them was unnecessary.[229] The author of these volumes,
from the day he has written man, inspected the works of Hogarth with
delight, but was not fully conscious of their superlative merit
until the compilation of these remarks, in the progress of which
his duty to the public obliged him to examine their design, and
endeavour to illustrate their tendency. In this he has engaged with
the consciousness that there would be error,--which to such a work is
necessarily attached.

To those readers who are not too fastidious to peruse it with this
allowance, or who have not hitherto looked at Hogarth with the
attention he merits, it is addressed. If it impels them to more
minute inspection of his works, the purpose is answered.

Yes, great and unrivalled genius! every contemplation of thy works
must be succeeded by admiration!


THE BATHOS, OR MANNER OF SINKING IN SUBLIME PAINTINGS.[231]

  _Inscribed to the dealers in dark pictures._

[Illustration: THE BATHOS.]

In five compartments beneath the title are the following
inscriptions:--

In the dexter corner is a pyramidical shell inscribed: "The conic
form in which the Goddess of Beauty was worshipped by the ancients
at Paphos in the Island of Cyprus. See the medal struck when a Roman
emperor visited the temple."

"Simulacrum Deæ non effigie humana, continuus orbis latiori initio
tenuem in ambitum meta modo, exsurgens et ratio in obscuro."--TACIT.
_Hist._ lib. 2.

In the sinister corner is a white pyramid, round which is twisted the
favourite serpentine line inscribed:--

"A copy of the precise line of Beauty, as it is represented on the
first explanatory plate of the 'Analysis of Beauty.'"

"Venus a Paphiis colitur, cujus simulacrum nulli rei magis assimile,
quam albæ Pyramidi."--MAXIMUS TYRIUS, _Ann._ 157.

"_Note._--The similarity of these two conic figures did not occur
to the author till two or three years after the publication of the
_Analysis_ in 1754."

Thus conclude the inscriptions. We will next inquire into the motives
by which the artist was actuated, and the subjects he has intended to
satirize in this his concluding enigmatical and pun-ical print.

       *       *       *       *       *

The labours of this great painter to the passions are now at an end;
and this is the last page of his eventful and instructive histories.
Those which he had formed into a series, added to the single prints,
portraits, etc., had become so numerous as to form a large volume.
A concluding plate seemed necessary; and we are told that, a few
months before he was seized with that malady which deprived society
of one of its greatest ornaments, he had in contemplation a last
engraving. After a dinner with a few social friends at his own table,
enjoying

      "The feast of reason, and the flow of soul,"

the board crowned with wine, and each glass circulating convivial
cheerfulness, he was asked, "What will be the subject of your next
print?" "The end of all things!" was his reply. "If that should be
the case," added one of his friends, "your business will be finished,
for there will be an end of the painter." With a look that conveyed
a consciousness of approaching dissolution, and a deep sigh, he
answered, "There will so; and therefore, the sooner my work is done
the better." With this impulse he next day began this plate, and
seeming to consider it as a terminus to his fame, never turned to the
right or left until he arrived at the end of his journey.

The aim of this _Omega_ to his own alphabet was twofold; to bring
together every object which denoted the end of time, and throw a
ridicule upon the bathos and profundity of the ancient masters.

That the bathos is not confined to the poet, but hath at sundry times
and in divers manners been of sovereign use to the painter, I am well
convinced. My opinion was originally formed upon the inspection of
many ancient and modern pictures, innumerable volumes of ancient and
modern prints, and an annual attendance at the Royal Exhibition: it
was confirmed by the perusal of some papers on the arts, which came
into my possession by one of those fortunate accidents that happen
to few men above once in their lives. Walking some years ago through
Harp Alley, I observed a porter carrying an old trunk without a
cover, in which was a little picture in a broad and deep ebony frame,
a few mutilated pamphlets, a parcel of prints, and an old manuscript
volume bound in vellum. He laid down his load at a broker's shop; I
inspected it, and seeing the book inscribed "Mart. Scrib.," purchased
the whole lot, took a hackney coach, and joyfully conveyed my prize
home. Eagerly inspecting the contents, I found the picture was Dutch,
and turned to a tint sombre as the frame: by the help of clear water
I brought out the colours, and--

      "Oh! Jephtha, judge of Israel,--what a treasure!"

To have painted it, must have been the labour of a long life. Such a
green stall!--such a cabbage!--a cauliflower!--a string of Spanish
onions!--a bunch of carrots!--a lobster!--a brass kettle!--and
a sunflower!--I never beheld before. So clear! transparent!
vivid!--It was forcible as Rembrandt! brilliant as Rubens!--and for
finishing--the most accurate works of Denner!--the most delicate
pencilling of the Chevalier Vanderweff!--compared with this charming
_tableau_, would appear hasty sketches.

The pamphlets were German, and touched of the transmutation of
metals; to discover which, who can calculate the loads of charcoal
that have been burnt, the retorts that have been burst, or the heads
that have been turned? That this grand arcanum of nature will at
some future day be revealed, I have no doubt; and there is little
reason to fear but the benefit of the discovery will be reaped by
this island;--because, Britain is highly favoured by the gods; and
several great calculators have clearly proved, that without some
such miraculous assistance, Britain must be undone by her enormous
national debt.

The prints were Flemish; but these subjects are foreign to my
manuscript. First craving pardon for the digression, to that I
proceed.

By time[232] it was turned to the colour of old parchment, but that
it was written by the righte cunnynge hand of Martinus Scriblerus
there can be little doubt.

When he sent some literary memoranda to Arbuthnot,[233] he
recommended to the Doctor "the recovery of others which lay
straggling about the world."[234]

Let it be also remembered, that though this prodigy of science
presented to our English Cervantes numerous tracts, he might not
think the Doctor would have a proper value for those on painting.
That Martinus was a competent judge of the fine arts, is proved by
his fifth chapter on Sinking in Poetry. Now as the family of the
Scribleri, with all their alliances and collateral relations, have
time immemorial been distinguished for the _cacoëthes scribendi_ of
whatever he was a judge, certes he would write, and that which he
hath written I have happily preserved. A few extracts[235] which
I have inserted will give a general idea of the whole, which is
entitled, THE ART OF SINKING IN PAINTING; and is thus introduced in
the _Prolegomena_:--

  "Great and manifold have been the benefits (my dear countryman)
  which poesy hath derived from that innumerable army of critics
  and commentators, who fabricated fences to keep her in bounds,
  and bore blazing torches to irradiate her path. Lamentable is it
  to consider how few lights have been held out to her sister art;
  who, notwithstanding an equal or prior claim, hath been suffered
  to wander through her dreary night with no other illumination
  than the glow-worm on the bank, or the _ignis fatuus_ in the
  ditches. For the use and service of the poet there is an ocean
  of commentary; while the painter hath no other stream in which to
  slake his thirst for instruction than that which creeps among the
  weeds in the meadow, or gurgles over the pebbles in the valley.

  "From intense application to the mysterious tablets of my great
  ancestors, for ages professors of astrology and chemistry in the
  universities of Germany, I am empowered to see by anticipation.

  "For me it is decreed to strike the rock of nature with the rod
  of science, and liberate the fountain of truth, whose waters
  shall fertilize this ungenial isle. Ye whose well-poised pinions
  enable you to soar above this our terrestrial globe, and dip your
  pencils in the rainbow! come and contemplate the magic mirror of
  Martinus Scriblerus.

  "Conscious am I that this our divine muse, who hath not unaptly
  been styled journeywoman to Nature, is now in a profound sleep;
  but in the coming century she shall awake from her trance,
  shake the dust from her many-coloured mantle, and dazzle the
  surrounding nations. Blest with the power of penetrating the
  cloud of time, which is impervious to vulgar sight, I see, as
  in a vision, the wonders of another age; and should these my
  lucubrations be neglected by my contemporaries, happy am I in
  the confidence that by their posterity they will be properly
  estimated, and sought for as were the Sibyl's leaves, regarded as
  the oracles of Apollo, and considered as the touchstone of true
  taste. To the age of whom they are worthy, and who are worthy of
  them, I dedicate these my labours.

  "The few who have written upon the fine arts have endeavoured to
  inculcate simplicity of action, anatomical correctness, symmetry
  of parts, harmony of colouring, easy folding of drapery, and due
  attention to the grouping of figures. These rules can only be
  classed among the idle dreams of visionary speculation; resign
  yourselves unto my guidance, and listen unto the lessons of truth.

  "In every animal there is an original instinct, tending towards
  that for which it was by nature designed. In man, there is a
  natural bias to the bathos; but he must be instructed, or rather
  compelled into any relish or taste for what is denominated the
  sublime.

  "To prove this my position, show a collection of drawings or
  paintings to a child: it will be irresistibly attracted by
  glittering colours, forced expressions, and grotesque, or what
  are commonly called caricatured countenances. Let the savage, who
  is not vitiated by idle rules, and has never seen painted canvas,
  be taken into a picture-gallery,--his natural taste will lead him
  to similar objects. What the artists call a quiet picture, he
  will quietly pass; but let the figures be crowded, the attitudes
  extravagant, and the colours gaudy,--his attention and admiration
  are ensured.

  "These facts being admitted, and they cannot be denied, why
  should we not take the genuine undebauched disposition of man
  in his original state of simplicity, as a better criterion of
  truth than that ideal nature which hath misled many painters
  and writers; of whose fantastic dogmas I cannot too strongly
  caution you to beware. Should you, in the course of your early
  studies, have contracted any of this ancient _ærugo_,--it is
  corrosive,--consider it as the dross of science, and scatter
  it in the air, for with my precepts it cannot coalesce. Ideal
  beauty is a childish absurdity. Painting is, or ought to be, an
  imitation of nature; and that can never be a good picture which
  representeth things that never did or can exist."

After many more pages to the same purport, this great philosopher
divideth his subject. The table of contents to a few of his chapters,
which will give a general idea of his plan, is hereunto annexed:--

  "CHAP. 1.--_Of the Story._

  "The principal character in your piece should be an illustrious
  person; but as great men may sometimes, for their recreation and
  diversion, or worse purposes, be taken up in mean and trivial
  matters, in such situations, it is proved from many right worthy
  examples, they may and ought to be delineated. The Emperor
  Domitian should be represented killing flies; Nero, playing upon
  the fiddle; Julius Cæsar, kicking a football; and Commodus, at a
  bull-baiting.


  "CHAP. 2.--_Relateth unto the Allegory._

  "To raise an historical picture above vulgar expression, it
  should be seasoned with allegory, and elevated with metaphorical
  allusions and figures.


  "CHAP. 3.--_Of the Time._

  "In this there should be variety; and if your story have not
  a sufficient number of great and famous persons to render it
  important and interesting, you may embellish it with such
  portraitures as suit your purpose. Their not having lived in the
  same age or nation is of little import.


  "CHAP. 4.--_Of the Machinery._

  "The machinery, _id est_, the celestial and infernal powers,
  must be brought into your picture on every great or difficult
  occasion. This will not only give your delineation a classical
  and learned air, but account for any wonderful action which
  the world might think your hero could not perform without
  supernatural assistance.


  "CHAP. 5.--_Treateth of the Episode._

  "To vary the pleasure of the spectator, an historical picture
  should be diversified with an episode; especial care being taken
  that it have no congruity with the main subject; for the name
  deriveth from that which is superadded to the original plan, and
  ought no more to appear a part of it than an insect appeareth as
  a part of the animal unto which it adhereth.


  "CHAP. 6.--_Describeth the nature and end of the Hyperbola, or
  Impossible._

  "This image is of eminent use in giving a cast of grandeur and
  greatness to what would, without it, appear trivial and mean.
  It excites astonishment; and the majority of mankind being most
  delighted with that which is most marvellous, is a good and
  sufficient cause for your works being well strewed with wonders."

For the contents of eighteen succeeding chapters, treating of the
cumbrous, the inflated, the glittering, the infantine, the pun-ical,
the vulgar, and sundry other styles, I have not room, but quitting
the bathos of Martinus Scriblerus, must proceed unto that of William
Hogarth.

It is well worthy of the title, for a more heterogeneous compound of
ludicrous and serious objects was never displayed in one print.

Some of his images the artist has gleaned from the common field of
the poor company of punsters, and for others hath soared into the
lofty regions of mythological allegory. He ascends from an inch of
candle setting fire to a print, to the chariot of the sun, which,
with Apollo Pæan and his three fiery coursers, sinks into endless
night. Mounts from the cobbler's end, twisted round a wooden last,
to the world's end, elegantly exemplified by a bursting globe on an
alehouse sign. He has contrasted the worn-out brush with the broken
crown; and opposed to the empty purse a commission of bankrupt,
which, sanctioned with the great seal of a hero upon a white horse,
is issued and awarded against Nature,--by Heaven knows who! He has
joined the huge cracked bell of the cathedral to the broken bottle of
the tavern; and set in opposition to the mutilated column and capital
of Ionia, the rope's end of a man-of-war. The bow which, drawn by
the old English archer, gave force fraught with death to the barbed
arrow, is unstrung and broken. The mutilated firelock, divested of
its tube, shall no more thin the ranks of contending armies. The
tottering tower, funeral yew, death's head, cross-bones, and "_Hic
jacet_" of a country churchyard, are opposed by the hard-worn besom,
blighted oaks, falling sign-post, and unthatched cottage. In what
painters call the sky, we have not only the son of Latona, but Luna
in a veil: in the distance a ship is sinking into the bed of the
ocean, and a gibbet is erected on the shore; to this, in conformity
with the wise institutions of our polished ancestors, and for the
luxury of those strong-beaked birds that feast their young with
blood,--a lord of the creation is suspended.[236] ONCE,--

              "On our quick'st decrees
      The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
      Stole, ere we could effect them."

NOW,--his scythe, tube, and hour-glass being broken, his progress is
ended! his sinews are unstrung! his hour of dissolution arrived!--and
with those five _capital letters_ that have concluded the labours of
so many learned authors, and which conjoined form the word FINIS,--

      "He ends his mortal coil, and breathes his last!"

By his will,--The great globe itself, and all which it inherits, is
bequeathed to Chaos,--appointed sole executor;--and this, his last
act, is witnessed by the _Parcæ_.

The print of "The Times," that gave rise to so much unmerited
abuse of this wonderful painter and excellent man, is in a blaze.
The palette on which he spread the varying tints of many-coloured
life--broken;--the whip of satire, armed with which he

                          "Dar'd the rage
      Of the bad men of this degenerate age,"

and scourged those that were safe from the law, and laughed at the
gospel;--the whip of satire--divested of its lash, lies unheeded on
the earth.

The book of Nature, in which he was so deeply read, and from whence
he drew all his images, is open at the last page. The characters that
compose his pictured tragi-comedies have passed in review before us,
and with the words engraven on the last leaf of that volume which he
so well studied, I will conclude this--


EXEUNT OMNES.

[Illustration: _HOGARTH'S CREST._]



FOOTNOTES:

[1] From some late examples in our courts of justice, I have thought
it barely possible that this dignified descendant of crowned heads,
at the same time that he is admiring his own person, may be observing
the Counsellor's attention to his lady, and hoping that he shall find
some future opportunity of detecting her infidelity and obtaining
a divorce. But this is merely conjecture. I wish, for the honour
of human nature, that there had been no example to justify such a
suspicion.

[2] The following whimsical imitation of Chaucer was written, I
believe, by Hermes Harris:--

      "Right welle my lerned clerkis it is said,
      That womanhoode for manne his use was made;
      But naughtie manne liketh not one, or soe,
      But wisheth aye unthriftilie for mo;
      And when by holie church to one he's tied,
      Then for his soule he cannot her abide.
        Thus when a dogge first lighteth on a bone,
      His taile he waggeth,--gladde thereof y-growne;
      But if thilke bone untoe his taile thou tie,
      Pardie, he fearing it, away doth flie."


[3] Hogarth might intend by this, and the improprieties and
violations of order in the unfinished building seen out of a window,
to hint at the absurdities of the then fashionable architect, William
Kent. As a painter Kent was beneath satire, as an architect he was
above it; but he was protected by Lord Burlington, patronized by Lord
Pembroke, and employed by all who aspired to a character for _virtu_.
Hogarth saw with disgust bordering upon indignation that his taste in
one art, modern gardening (of which he was the acknowledged father),
procured him the reputation of excellence in another, in which he
was grossly ignorant and glaringly erroneous. In some of the grounds
laid out by Kent's directions, he realized that Paradise which Milton
had described; his patrons saw that he could improve nature in their
plantations, and very kindly gave him credit for a power which he
never possessed--that of giving an imitation of nature on his canvas.
By the Dryades his sacrifice had been accepted; but the offering
he laid upon the altar sacred to the fine arts was rejected with
disdain. It was the praise of Hercules that he destroyed monsters and
discomfited giants; it was the praise of William Kent that he cleared
our gardens of their representatives. Before his time the plantations
round the seats of our nobility were a kind of vernal menagerie:
the lion shook his shaggy mane in yew; the dragon waved his wings
in evergreen; and in box, the wild boar displayed his bristled neck
and tusks terrific. Our disciple of true taste cleared away these
fantastic forms, and in their place gave us nature,--"nature to
advantage dressed." But when consulted about interior decorations,
his taste evaporated. The heavy canopy over the nobleman's head, the
ponderous chairs and massy frames which decorate the room, are from
his designs. In some of the old houses of our ancient nobility we see
furniture of a similar appearance, though the greatest part of it,
after passing through the purgatory of a broker's shop, has either
been placed in very inferior situations or consigned to the flames.

Of Kent's abilities as a painter the public thought so highly,
that he was absurdly enough opposed to Sir James Thornhill. This
circumstance might be one source of Hogarth's dislike; he, however,
took an early opportunity of showing it, by what is called a
"Burlesque of Kent's Altarpiece at St. Clement's Church," but which
Hogarth declared to be a fair delineation of the original. A reduced
copy is in vol. iii. of this work; see p. 17 of the 2d edition.

[4] Some of the portraits of Louis XIV. are quite as absurd. We are
told that he once sent to Rome for Poussin, to paint him in the
character of Jupiter. This great artist obeyed the summons, and
prepared his canvas and colours; when, to his extreme astonishment,
the monarch informed him that, although he was to be delineated as
the representative of Jove, etiquette did not permit him to appear
without his major peruke, and he must consequently be so painted.
Poussin, not able to conceive any way of giving appropriate dignity
to the thunderer of Olympus with this flowing appendage, declined
beginning the picture, and returned to Rome without making his
_congé_.

[5] By the loose negligence of her habit, and some circumstances,
I am inclined to think the artist intended to represent her as
pregnant. It has been said that after Baron had finished the plate,
Mr. Hogarth added a lock of hair with Indian ink, but after a few
impressions were taken off, inserted this supplemental ornament with
the graver. In his _Analysis of Beauty_, he makes a remark which
in some degree accounts for the introduction of this fascinating
attraction:--

"It was once the fashion to have two curls of equal size, stuck at
the same height close upon the forehead, which probably took its rise
from seeing the pretty effect of curls falling loosely over the face.

"A lock of hair falling thus across the temples, and by that means
breaking the regularity of the oval, has an effect too alluring to
be strictly decent, as is very well known to the loose and lowest
classes of women; but being paired in so stiff a manner as they
formerly were, they lost the desired effect, and ill deserved the
name of ornaments."

Moralists of different nations have considered hair as calculated to
entangle hearts, and one of our pious writers of the last century
wrote a furious treatise on the _un_loveliness of love-locks.

[6] A chair kicked down, an _Essay on Whist_, cards scattered on the
floor, and the general confusion of everything in the room, seem
to intimate that this _right honourable society_ were actuated by
passions somewhat similar to those which inflame the gentlemen in the
sixth plate of "The Rake's Progress." Though a genuine gamester is
not apt to lose his presence of mind on slight occasions, yet when a
man of rank is stripped of sums that will draw into their vortex many
anticipated years of his revenue, he is liable to lose his temper,
and on such occasions apt to vent his spleen on inanimate objects.
Such things sometimes happen even now.

[7] Absurd as this may seem, yet until Mr. Wedgwood introduced those
beautiful Etruscan forms which now decorate the rooms, and form the
taste of the possessors, these shapeless monsters disgraced the most
splendid apartments in the metropolis.

[8] "Kent was not only consulted for furniture, as frames of
pictures, glasses, tables, chairs, etc., but for plate, for a barge,
for a cradle. So impetuous was fashion, that two great ladies
prevailed on him to make designs for their birthday gowns. The one
he dressed in a petticoat decorated with columns of the five orders;
the other, like a bronze, in copper-coloured satin, with ornaments of
gold."--Walpole's _Anecdotes_, 2d edit., vol. iv. p. 239.

[9] This race still roll round the metropolis; and while some put
their trust in chariots, horses, and impudence, others depend on the
credulity of his Majesty's liege subjects.

The following epitaph was written for one of them:--

      Beneath lies lean old Fillgrave, once M.D.,
      Who hunger felt much oft'ner than a fee;
      These were the last, last words the doctor spoke
      (And, believe me, sirs, the sentence was no joke),
      "The world I leave, but can't the world forgive,
      For by my patients I could never live."
      In this rejoin'd a friend, "You'd but your due;
      Your patients, doctor, ne'er could live by you."--E.


[10] It is said to have been designed for the once celebrated
Betty Careless, and the remark is supposed to be countenanced by
the initials E. C. on her bosom. This woman, by a transmigration
as natural as is that of the chrysalis, from being one of the most
fashionable of the Cyprian corps, became keeper of a brothel; and
after repeated arrests and many imprisonments, was buried from the
poorhouse of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, April 22, 1752. In many of
the elegant Latin odes of Loveling her name is immortalized; and of
her person and appearance Fielding thus speaks in his _Amelia_:--

"I happened in my youth to sit behind two ladies in a side-box at
a play, where, in a balcony on the opposite side, was placed the
inimitable Betsy Careless, in company with a young fellow of no very
formal or indeed sober appearance. One of the ladies, I remember,
said to the other, 'Did you ever see anything look so modest and so
innocent as that girl over the way? What pity it is such a creature
should be in the way of ruin, as I am afraid she is by being alone
with that young fellow.'

"Now this lady was no bad physiognomist: for it was impossible to
conceive a greater appearance of modesty, innocence, and simplicity
than what nature had displayed in the countenance of that girl, and
yet, all appearances notwithstanding, I myself (remember, critic, it
was in my youth) had, a few mornings before, seen that very identical
picture of those engaging qualities in bed with a rake at a bagnio,
smoking tobacco, drinking punch, talking obscenity, and swearing and
cursing with all the impudence and impiety of the lowest and most
abandoned trull of a soldier."

Hogarth noticed this woman in a former print: one of the madmen in
the last plate of "The Rake's Progress" has written "Charming Betsy
Careless" on the rail of the stairs, and wears her portrait suspended
to a riband tied round his neck. Mrs. Heywood's _Betsy Thoughtless_
was in MS. entitled _Betsy Careless_; but, from the infamy at that
time annexed to the name, had a new baptism. There are those who
say that the letters upon this woman's bosom are not E. C. but F.
C., and intended to designate Fanny Cock, daughter of Mr. Cock the
auctioneer, with whom the artist had a casual disagreement. After
all these conjectures, I think it is probable that these gunpowder
initials are merely the marks of a woman of the lowest rank and most
infamous description.

[11] From the gallows, immediately over his head, we are led to
suppose the artist intended to hint that this gentleman died for
the good of his country; but from the records of some of our
mortuary historians, it appears that about the time this set of
prints were published, a number of bodies thus preserved, which had
been exsiccated by some mode of embalming at present unknown, were
discovered in a vault in Whitechapel Church.

[12] This royal mummy, being once the sole tenant of one of the
largest pyramids, might be more positively ascertained than any of
the Cleopatras. It was, however, profanely removed by a wild Arab,
who, after he had stolen it, sold it to the Consul of Alexandria,
by whom it was transmitted to England: and a right grave antiquary
quotes a passage in Sandys' _Travels_ to prove its being genuine;
where that learned and accurate voyager assures us that he saw the
sepulchre empty, "which agrees exactly," saith he, "with the theft
above mentioned." He omits to observe that Herodotus tells the same
thing of it in his time.

[13] Carestini.

[14] A short time before the publication of these prints, the
greatest part of our nobility acted as if they had been bitten
by a tarantula. The sums lavished upon exotic warblers would
have supported an army; the applause bestowed upon some of them
would have turned the brain of a saint. It was little short of
adoration. Persons of inferior rank caught this jingling contagion,
and all orders of the people were infected with a musical mania,
totally foreign to our national taste, and highly dishonourable
to our national character. In one of Hogarth's former prints is a
list of the rich presents Signior Farinelli, the Italian singer,
condescended to accept from the English nobility and gentry for one
night's performance in the opera of _Artaxerxes!_ comprising gold
snuff-boxes, diamond rings, diamond buckles, etc. That such presents
were actually made is ascertained by the newspapers of the day.

[15] The group of which this is composed is worthy observation.
The Counsellor is pointing to a friar and a nun who are in close
conversation.

[16] Mrs. Lane (afterwards Lady Bingley).

[17] Fox Lane, her husband.

[18] Weideman.

[19] This curious delineation is whimsically placed immediately over
the head of the Italian.

[20] Of the wisdom displayed in this judgment much has been said;
I have sometimes thought that a decision of the great Frederick of
Prussia's was equally deserving of record. When a list of criminals,
who had forfeited their lives by violating the laws of their country,
was once brought to him to sign, he observed the name of a soldier
convicted of sacrilege.--"That a soldier of mine should be guilty of
so atrocious a crime," said the king, "astonishes and distresses me.
I will not, however, sign his death-warrant until I have examined him
in person." The man was accordingly brought into the royal presence,
and two monks, who were his accusers, declared that he had come
into their church during the time they were celebrating mass, and
placed himself under an image of the Virgin Mary, from whose shoes
he had privately taken two pearl bows, and carried them out of the
church: they pursued him, and found them in his pocket. The king,
turning to the criminal, desired to know what he had to say in his
defence? which was simply this: that he was a disbanded soldier, and
in great distress for a dinner: that he walked into the churchyard,
and earnestly prayed to the Virgin Mary that she would put him in
the way of getting one: that she appeared to him, and told him she
heard his supplications, and pitied his distress; to relieve which,
she begged him to accept of some pearls which were on the feet of
her image in the neighbouring church. When the doors opened, he
walked into the church and took them out of her shoes, with an
intention of converting them into money. "This," said the king,
"alters the face of the business; but tell me, most reverend fathers,
for you undoubtedly know, is it according to your canons possible
that the Virgin could, to relieve distress and preserve a life,
appear to this poor man in the way he describes?"--"Undoubtedly,
my liege, she could, but it is not probable that she did." "Is it
possible?"--"Certainly." "Very well. I will not let a soldier of mine
suffer death upon probabilities. He shall be discharged this time;
but observe what I say to you, young man; if at any future period I
find that you accept another present from either virgin, saint, or
angel, you shall be hanged."

[21] It is said to be copied from the frontispiece to a twopenny
history of the notified Moll Flanders; but I do not remember
seeing it among Mr. Gulston's two-and-twenty thousand portraits of
illustrious characters.

[22] This is one among many proofs of Mr. Hogarth's close attention
to those little markings which have been generally disregarded
by other artists. By a fire in the room he fixes the time to be
winter,--a season in which those exotic amusements, masquerades, are
most frequent in the metropolis.

[23] "If he do not become a cart as well as another man--a plague on
his bringing up!"

[24] A brawn's head, with an orange in its mouth, was at that time a
fashionable winter dish; and it was a standing dish which might be
marched from the pantry to the parlour, and give the semblance of
plenty for forty days. This was perhaps one reason for our votary of
Mammon making it the leading article in his bill of fare; the rest
and residue of his feast is made up by a solitary egg.

A boiled egg was the usual dinner of Sir Hans Sloane. When he once
complained to Dr. Mortimer that all his friends had deserted him, the
Doctor observed that Chelsea was a considerable distance from the
residence of most of them, and therefore they might be disappointed
when they came to find he had so slight a dinner. This gentle
remonstrance put the old Baronet in a rage, and he exclaimed, "Keep a
table! Invite people to dinner! Would you have me ruin myself? Public
credit totters already, and if (as has been presaged) there should be
a national bankruptcy, or a sponge to wipe out the national debt, you
may yet see me in a workhouse." His landed estate was at that time
very considerable, and his museum worth much more than the twenty
thousand pounds which was, however, given for it by Parliament.

Scanty as is our citizen's dinner, his table-cloth is ample. The
founder of Guy's Hospital, which is the first private foundation in
the world, was not so extravagant. His constant substitute for a
table-cloth was either a dirty proof sheet of some book or an old
newspaper.

[25] Let not any censure fall upon Mr. Hogarth for these indelicate
representations. He evidently means to burlesque the gross and
ridiculous absurdities of the Dutch painters.

[26] These canine unfortunates are not only useful when living, but
frequently _die for the good of mankind_. Some have their throats
cut, to prove the efficacy of a styptic; others are bled to death for
a philosophical transfusion; and very many resign their breath in the
receiver of an air-pump. _Unhappy Dogs!_

[27] "It appears to have been a part of that curse which the
disobedience of the first man brought upon his posterity, that we
were compelled to stain our hands in blood, and to subsist on the
destruction of other animals. But surely, if the necessity of our
nature obliges us to deprive an innocent being of life, it ought to
be done in the easiest and speediest manner! and such was the custom
among the peculiar people of God. What shall we say to that luxury
which, for a momentary gratification of appetite, condemns a creature
endued with feeling, perhaps with mind, to languish in torments, and
expire by a protracted and cruel death?"--_Sermons by George Gregory,
D.D., F.A.S._, 2d edit. p. 100.

[28] How much are we the creatures of habit! Those who would shudder
at tying a lobster to a wooden spit, and roasting it alive, will
_coolly_ place a dozen oysters between the bars of a slow fire; and
yet these oysters, notwithstanding their supposed torpor, may have an
equal degree of feeling with their armoured brother.

[29] I remember once seeing a practical lesson of humanity given to
a little chimney-sweeper, which had, I dare say, a better effect
than a volume of ethics. The young soot merchant was seated upon
an alehouse bench, and had in one hand his brush, and in the other
a hot buttered roll. While exercising his white masticators with a
perseverance that evinced the highest gratification, he observed a
dog lying on the ground near him. The repetition of "Poor fellow,
poor fellow," in a good-natured tone, brought the quadruped from
his resting-place: he wagged his tail, looked up with an eye of
humble entreaty, and in that universal language which all nations
understand, asked for a morsel of bread. The sooty tyrant held his
remnant of roll towards him; but on the dog gently offering to take
it, struck him with his brush so violent a blow across the nose as
nearly broke the bone. A gentleman who, unperceived, had been a
witness to the whole transaction, put a sixpence between his finger
and thumb, and beckoned this little monarch of May-day to an opposite
door. The lad grinned at the silver, but on stretching out his hand
to receive it, the practical teacher of humanity gave him such a rap
upon the knuckles with a cane as made them ring. His hand tingling
with pain, and tears running down his cheeks, he asked "What that was
for?" "To make you feel," was the reply. "How do you like a blow and
a disappointment?--the dog endured both! Had you given him a piece
of bread, this sixpence should have been the reward; you gave him a
blow, I will therefore put the money in my pocket."

[30] By a strange and inapplicable mistake, this has sometimes been
written Thieves Inn. It was at that time the longest shilling fare
from the great fountain of law in Westminster.

[31] Though contrary to an express Act of Parliament, this is done
every day.

[32] To the dishonour of our police, the savage custom of driving
cattle through the streets, even at high noon, is still continued,
though scarce a week passes without a consequent accident. Might not
the Fleet Market be removed to Smithfield, and that for live cattle
be held in the skirts of the city, with a penalty upon any person
driving a beast through the streets after nine in the morning? This
may be impracticable; but the number of accidents which happen from
the present custom show the necessity of some reform.

[33] Instead of Amphitheatres, these Gymnasia are now more elegantly
called Academies.

[34] The scene has been said to be laid in Pancras Churchyard: I
think it bears more resemblance to that of Marybone. The building in
the background may be on the same eminence where now is the Jew's
Harp House. This is only conjecture, and as such let it be received.

[35] Shakspeare saw this in its true light:

  "_Hamlet._ Has this fellow any feeling of his business?

  "_Horatio._ Custom hath made it in him a matter of easiness.

  "_Hamlet._ Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath the
  daintier sense."

[36] The president much resembles old Frieake, who was the master of
Nourse, to whom the late Mr. Potts was a pupil.

Mr. Frieake was originally a member of the Barbers' Company, and
lived in Salisbury Square. Being desirous of building a carriage
on the most reasonable terms, he employed a number of journeymen
coachmakers in his own garret. They performed their task, but found
it was not possible to get this appendage to modern practice into the
street by any other means than unroofing the house. This was done,
and a bricklayer's bill for re-covering the attic storey rendered his
_saving_ scheme much more expensive than it would have been if he had
employed the king's coachmaker.

[37] The importance of the brewery to the revenue will appear by the
following statement:--

MALT AND BREWERS.

The duty on malt from July 5, 1785, to the same day 1786, produced
a million and a half of money, from a liquor which invigorates the
bodies of its willing subjects to defend the blessings they enjoy,
while that from Stygian gin enervates and incapacitates.

One of the brewers (or Chevaliers de Malte, as an impertinent
Frenchman styled Humphrey Parsons, when the King of France inquired
who he was) within one year contributed fifty thousand pounds to
his own share. The sight of a great London brewery exhibits a
magnificence unspeakable. The vessels evince the extent of the trade.
Mr. Meux of Liquorpond Street can show twenty-four vessels containing
thirty-five thousand four hundred barrels of wholesome liquor,
which enables our London porter-drinkers to perform tasks that ten
gin-drinkers would sink under.

[38] This gentleman has been very properly baptized the _Herring
Poet_.

[39] It is directed to the Trunkmaker, and contains five enormous
folios, titled as follows:--_Lauder on Milton_. _Politics_, vol.
999. _Modern Tragedies_, vol. 12. _Hill on the Royal Society_, and
_Turnbull on Ancient Paintings_. The two last are worthy of a better
fate, for one has some wit, and the other many sensible remarks.

[40] It is not 400 years since a Baron of this realm was tried for
high crimes and misdemeanours, and one of the chief accusations
exhibited against him was, that he suffered himself to be carried
about his garden by two of his own species.

[41] It is said, I don't know upon what authority, to be intended as
a burlesque delineation of John Stephen Liotard, of whom Mr. Walpole
thus writes in p. 195 of his _Anecdotes_:--

"Devoid of imagination, and one would think of memory, he could
render nothing but what he saw before his eyes. Freckles, marks of
the small-pox, everything found its place; not so much from fidelity,
as because he could not conceive the absence of anything that
appeared to him."

This miserable personage may, however, be only intended to show the
state of the arts at that time, when an English painter, if not
excellent in portraits, had no other patronage than that of those
gentlemen who put out signs of Blue Lions, Green Dragons, and Red
Harts. Thanks to the talents of our immortal bard, it is not so now.
Whether the artists of the present day drain copious draughts of
humble porter, or fill their flagons with Falernian or French wines,
let not the memory of their patron poet be forgotten. "He merits all
their wonder, all their praise!"

[42] This wretched being was painted from nature. His cry was, "Buy
my ballads, and I'll give you a glass of gin for nothing."

[43] This _infernal broth_ is vulgarly called "Strip-me-naked," and
has almost invariably that effect.

[44] This is an unnatural and violent exaggeration.

[45] The church in view is _St. George's, Bloomsbury_. Ralph, in his
_Critical Review of the Buildings in London_, properly observes that
"this structure is ridiculous and absurd even to a proverb. That the
builder mistook whim for genius, and ornament for taste, and that
the execrable conceit of displaying a statue of the king on the top
of it excites laughter in the ignorant, and contempt in the judge of
architecture."

[46] Two of these harpies have names highly descriptive of their
professions--"Gripe" and "Killman."

[47] I hope I shall not be censured for inserting a quotation from
Fingal as the motto to an imitation of Rembrandt. Both poet and
painter delighted in darkness, and each of them sometimes introduced
a sublime and majestic figure, which beamed through the gloom "like
the new moon seen through a gathered mist, when the sky pours down
its flaky snow, and the world is silent and dark."

[48] This little winged periwinkle is engraven in a very different
style from the rest of the plate, much of which is a sort of _aquæ_
tint. Many impressions were taken off without this figure.

[49] On the blade is engraven a dagger, the arms of our metropolis.

[50] This has been generally thought intended for a portrait of
Hume Campbell, who, like some of his boisterous brethren of the
present day, distinguished himself by a sort of savage elocution more
consonant to Billingsgate than a court of law. Others have said it
was designed for Doctor William King, Principal of St. Mary Hall,
Oxford, and in proof of their assertion refer to an ascertained
portrait in Worlidge's view of "Lord Westmoreland's Installation,"
1761, to which it has a striking resemblance.

[51] On the scraps are inscribed, "We have found this man a pestilent
fellow, a mover of sedition among the Jews, ringleader of the sect,"
etc. etc. etc.

[52] While the plate remained in the hands of Mrs. Hogarth
impressions were sold at that price, but were afterwards reduced to
three shillings.

[53] With each infant was then sent some little memorial by which it
might be known at a future day. The following lines were written by
an unfortunate widow, and pinned to the breast of a child who was
received into the hospital:

      "Go, gentle babe, thy future life be spent
      In virtuous purity and calm content;
      Life's sunshine bless thee, and no anxious care
      Sit on thy brow, and draw the falling tear;
      Thy country's grateful servant may'st thou prove,
      And all thy life be happiness and love."

Some fifteen or sixteen years ago, a person of respectable appearance
went to the hospital, and requested to see the chapel, great room,
etc. He then desired to speak with the treasurer, to whom he
presented a ten-pound bank note, expressing a wish that it might be
recorded as a small but grateful memorial from the first orphan who
was apprenticed by the charity. He added, "I was that orphan, and in
consequence of the education I here received, have had the power of
acquiring an independence with integrity and honour."

[54] Several other pictures were presented to the hospital by the few
eminent painters who then lived in London.

"The donations in painting which several artists presented to the
Foundling Hospital were among the first objects of this nature which
engaged the public attention. The artists observing the effects that
these paintings produced, came, in the year 1760, to a resolution
to try the fate of a public exhibition of their works. This effort
had its desired effect. The public were entertained, and the artists
were excited to emulation."--_Strange's Inquiry into the Rise and
Establishment of the Royal Academy_, p. 63.

This gives Hogarth a right to be classed, if not among those who were
founders of the Royal Academy, as one of the first causes of its
establishment.

[55] Be this as it may, certain it is that the boy, who was
afterwards so great a Jewish legislator, bears a very strong
resemblance to the Egyptian princess. That the artist meant by this
family likeness to hint that he was of royal descent, I do not
presume to assert.

[56] The head is said to be copied from a youth of the name of
Seaton. The attitude and general air very much resemble that of
Delilah, in a picture painted by Vandyke, of Samson seized by the
Philistines, now in the Emperor's gallery at Vienna.

[57] These prints were promised to the subscribers sooner than they
could be completed; and in consequence of their being delayed, the
following advertisement was inserted in the _Public Advertiser_ of
February 28, 1757:--

  "Mr. Hogarth is obliged to inform the subscribers to his Election
  prints that the three last cannot be published till about
  Christmas next, which delay is entirely owing to the difficulties
  he has met with to procure able hands to engrave the plates: but
  that he neither may have any more apologies to make on such an
  account, nor trespass any further on the indulgence of the public
  by increasing a collection already sufficiently large, he intends
  to employ the rest of his time in portrait-painting; chiefly this
  notice seems more necessary, as several spurious and scandalous
  prints have lately been published in his name," etc.

This fretful appeal must have been written under the influence of
momentary spleen, which might possibly originate in his coadjutor's
disappointing, and by that means forcing him to violate his
engagements with the public. There is no other apology for his
indulging a thought of quitting that walk in which he indisputably
led, for another in which he must not only follow, but be far behind
some of his contemporaries.

[58] Sir George Saville saw this in its true light. One of the
supporters of the Bill of Rights being desirous of introducing Sir
George's name among the members of the society, made application to
the worthy Baronet for his permission to propose him. Sir George
declined the honour, and pleaded his engagements being so numerous
that he had not time to attend, etc. etc. "We do not expect your
attendance," replied his friend; "we do not expect your constant
attendance; but the sanction of your name would be a tower of
strength to the society; and as you see by the public prints, the
manner we conduct ourselves, and the business we do, you must
approve, I think you cannot refuse us your name." "I do not," said
Sir George, "make any objection to your conduct, which I have thought
very regular and systematic, but I really dislike the title you have
adopted; I observe that you meet, read a string of observations, and
then make a motion for adjourning to dinner in the next room; there
each man drinks his two bottles to most patriotic and constitutional
toasts. In the next paper appear advertisements, that on the
following Monday the supporters of the Bill of Rights will meet
again. Dinner on table precisely at four o'clock. You dine, and
drink your wine; your secretary gives us the same information in the
succeeding prints, and again adds, that--dinner will be on the table
precisely at four o'clock. All these circumstances induce me to think
you should alter your title; instead of 'Supporters of the Bill of
Rights,' call yourselves what you really are, 'Supporters of the Bill
of Fare!'"

[59] This has been pronounced, I know not upon what authority, to be
intended for the late Thomas Potter, Esq.

[60] In page 21 of a quarto pamphlet published in 1755, and entitled,
"The Last Blow, or an unanswerable vindication of the society of
Exeter College, being a reply to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. King,
and the writers of the _London Evening Post_," is the following
paragraph:--

  "The next character to whose merits we would do justice is the
  Rev. Dr. C--ss--t (Cosserat). But as it is very difficult to
  delineate this fellow in colours sufficiently strong and lively,
  it is fortunate for us and the Doctor that Hogarth has undertaken
  the task. In the print of 'An Election Entertainment,' the public
  will see the Doctor represented sitting among the freeholders,
  and zealously eating and drinking for the sake of the new
  interest. His venerable and humane aspect will at once bespeak
  the dignity and benevolence of his heart. Never did aldermen at
  Guildhall devour custard with half such an appearance of love to
  his country, or swallow ale with so much the air of a patriot.
  These circumstances the pencil of Hogarth will undoubtedly make
  manifest; but it is much to be lamented that his words also
  cannot appear in this print, and that the artist cannot delineate
  that persuasive flow of eloquence which could prevail upon
  copyholders to abjure their base tenures and swear themselves
  freeholders. But this oratory (far different from the balderdash
  of Tully and Doctor King, concerning liberty and our country),
  as the genius of mild ale alone could inspire, this fellow alone
  could deliver."


[61] I think it is recorded in Mr. Joseph Miller's _Reports_, that
our British Solomon often asserted that scratching was too great a
luxury for a subject to enjoy.

[62] This woman was remarkable for performing at fairs, country
hops, etc. in the neighbourhood of Oxford, and known by the name of
Fiddling Nan.

[63] This is a portrait of the present Sir John Parnell, nephew to
the poet. He was introduced into this print by his own request,
declaring at the same time that, from his being so generally known in
Ireland, his face would help the sale of the engraving.

[64] It is supposed to be the portrait of an Oxford bruiser who went
by the name of Teague Carter.

[65] A mashing-tub seems a sufficiently capacious vessel, but sinks
to nothing when compared with a bowl which, it is recorded, was
filled with punch on the 15th of October 1694, at the expense of
Admiral Russel. The Admiral's punch was made in a fountain situated
in the centre of a large garden, the terminus to four long gravel
walks, canopied with orange and lemon trees. In each walk was a table
the length of the avenue, covered with a cold collation, consisting
of every luxury which the season produced; and in the basin of
the fountain, which the gallant seaman chose to call a little
basin, for the entertainment of a few friends, were the following
ingredients:--Four hogsheads of brandy, eight hogsheads of water,
twenty-five thousand lemons, twenty gallons of lime juice, thirteen
hundredweight of fine Lisbon sugar, five pounds of grated nutmegs,
three hundred toasted biscuits, and lastly, a pipe of dry mountain
Malaga. Over the fountain was erected a large canopy to keep off the
rain, and in a little boat, built for the purpose, a boy belonging to
the fleet rowed round the basin, and served this cordial beverage to
the company. More than six thousand men partook of this mighty bowl.

[66] This alludes to the alteration of the style in the year 1752, a
measure which gave great umbrage, and excited a violent clamour among
the advocates for old customs and adherents to ancient forms.

[67] Kirton was a tobacconist in Fleet Street, but injured his
circumstances and destroyed his constitution by his active zeal in
the Oxfordshire election of 1754.

[68] This is said to be intended for the late Duke of Newcastle,
his Grace having exerted all his influence in support of the
Naturalization Bill: the nose of the effigy gives some probability to
the conjecture.

[69] Under the portrait of a Mr. Cholmondeley of Vale Royal, in
Cheshire, engraved about the same time with these prints, are the
following quaint lines:

      "In this plain garb a senator is shown,
      Who never bought a vote, nor sold his own."


[70] This print undoubtedly gave the hint for a transaction in which
Punch was made the principal agent at a late Shaftesbury election.

[71] By the condescending humility of men of high rank, and the
aspiring ambition of men of no rank, they to all appearance become
equal at every general election. The following is one among the few
instances of an independent spirit in a candidate's address:--

  "TO THE GENTLEMEN, CLERGY, AND FREEHOLDERS OF THE COUNTY OF YORK.

  "GENTLEMEN,--I have had the honour to represent the county of
  York in three successive Parliaments: I have been diligent in my
  attendance, and have performed my duty with a clear and unbiassed
  conscience. I have now an opposition declared against me, for
  what reasons I do not know, except that I am not disposed to obey
  the dictates of the associators at York. I do not wish to serve
  you upon such terms. I will never go to Parliament in fetters;
  nor did I, nor ever will I disguise my principles, which all go
  to the support of our excellent constitution in Church and State.
  I avow myself an enemy to tumults, sedition, and rebellion, and
  will never support any but a British interest. Consistently with
  that, I am a friend to the people, and am determined to preserve
  my independency, yielding neither to any influence of ministers,
  nor to any clamours of a faction.

  "Upon these principles I shall esteem it a high honour to be
  returned for this great county, and shall be thankful for your
  support.--I am, gentlemen, etc.,

  "EDWIN LASCELLES.

  "_September 12, 1780._"

In Mr. Edmund Burke's speech to the electors of Bristol, on the 3d
of November 1774, he gave such cogent reasons for not signing any
engagement to obey in all cases the instructions of his constituents,
that I cannot resist the temptation of inserting an extract, for the
contemplation of those who are advocates of a contrary system:--

"Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory
of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest
correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his
constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their
opinion high respect; their business unremitted attention. It is
his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfaction
to theirs; and above all, ever and in all cases to prefer their
interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment,
his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any
men, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your
pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust
from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your
representative owes you not only his industry, but his judgment;
and he betrays instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your
opinion.

"My worthy colleague says his will ought to be subservient to
yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If government were a
matter of will upon any side, yours, without question, ought to be
superior. But government and legislation are matters of reason and
judgment, and not of inclination; and what sort of reason is that in
which the determination precedes the discussion, in which one set
of men deliberate and another decide, and where those who form the
conclusion are three hundred miles distant from those who hear the
argument?

"To deliver an opinion is the right of all men; that of constituents
is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a representative ought
always to rejoice to hear, and which he ought always most seriously
to consider. But authoritative instructions; mandates issued, which
the member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to
argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgment
and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of the
land, which arise from a fundamental mistake of the whole order and
tenor of our constitution.

"Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different and
hostile interests; which interests each must maintain, as an agent
and advocate against other agents and advocates; but Parliament is a
deliberative assembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the
whole; where not local purposes, not local prejudices ought to guide,
but the general good resulting from the general reason of the whole.
You choose a member, indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not
a member of Bristol, but he is a member of Parliament. If the local
constituent should have an interest, or should form an hasty opinion,
evidently opposite to the real good of the rest of the community,
the member of that place ought to be as far as any other from any
endeavour to give it effect."

[72] In the year 1739 Admiral Vernon took Portobello with six ships
only. The public gratitude to him was boundless: he was sung in
ballads; at the ensuing general election in 1741 he was returned for
three different corporations; but above all, his portrait covered
every signpost; and he may be, figuratively, said to have sold the
ale, beer, and purl of all England for six years.

[73] This sign has a very whimsical appearance: it represents our
merry monarch in a great tree, enveloped in a black wig, decorated
with a point lace cravat, and environed with three crowns. Two
Parliamentary troopers, riding beneath the branches, do not perceive
that this faithless "Defender of the Faith," and so forth, is
immediately above them. This curious delineation is evidently copied
from some country sign, and gives a very exact representation of
one I remember to have seen in a village in Shropshire, with the
following _poetical_ inscription:--

      "This oak, the glory of the wood, may well be called a royal thing,
      For once upon its branches there perched a great king;
      And while the king was perched upon the branches so high,
      The Roundhead rebels under him they all passed by."


[74] When Ware the architect was told of this piece of satire, he
said the artist must be a very foolish fellow; for if he had painted
the coachman as a shorter man, or made him stoop, he might have
driven through the gateway with his head upon his shoulders.

[75] John Shoreditch, in the reign of Edward III., sued the county of
Middlesex (for which he was returned to Parliament) to recover his
wages. In some letters from the dead to the living, published about
the year 1761, one signed with his name concludes as follows:

  "If I was now upon earth--either nobleman or commoner--I should
  choose peace and quiet, both public and private: I should be
  happy in preserving religion and morality among my countrymen,
  instead of suborning them to take the oath falsely about bribery
  and corruption; debauching their minds, by giving them money that
  is of no use to their families, and keeping them in continual
  drunkenness, that renders them incapable of serving themselves or
  their country.

  "To this I attribute the loss of that which was common in my
  time, but in yours is found only in romances and novels--I mean
  simplicity of manners among the country people. Rustic innocence
  was then as common among the men as among the women; but there
  is scarce any mode of vice or folly which is not at this period
  equally known and practised by both sexes; and in the most
  obscure villages to as great a degree as in the most polished
  cities. Let us consider that a million of money was spent in
  treats and bribery at the last general election; and if we take
  into the calculation the contested elections, for some of which
  there were three or four candidates, and the money that is spent
  by their friends on these occasions, we shall not find the
  computation too high. What place, then, will not the influence
  of this immense sum extend to? Not even the smallest hamlet can
  escape; and you may as well look for purity of manners, innocence
  and simplicity, among the Capuans of old, or in your Covent
  Garden, as in any place that an election guinea has found its way
  to.--I am, etc."


[76] I am tasteless enough to prefer this to Garrick between Tragedy
and Comedy. From Hogarth the hint was indisputably taken; but
exquisite as is the face of Thalia, the countenance of the actor,
from the contention of two passions, has assumed a kind of idiotic
stare, of which our honest farmer has not an iota. In the true spirit
of Falstaff, he says, or seems to say, "D'ye think I do not know ye?
Ha! ha! ha! he! he! he!!"

[77] Swift boasted that he made it a rule never to give his voice
for the appointment of any man to any situation for which that man
was not better qualified than his opponent. Being once applied to
for his interest in the recommendation of a curate, because he was
a very good sort of man, though a very vile preacher, he said he
would willingly, if in his power, recommend him to be a bishop,
because that was a business in which preaching was not wanted, but
in a curate it was wanted every week. Being once asked by one of his
parishioners which of two candidates he would advise him to vote for
as a Parliament man, in a warmly contested Irish election, Swift
desired he would first consider what was the business of a Parliament
man; and secondly, which of the parties was best qualified for that
business; and then he would want no advice. If your vote, added he,
could make a lord or a duke, as they are people who need not do any
business at all, you might toss up a halfpenny, and vote for the man
who came up heads.

[78] By a letter we see out of his pocket, this appears to be Doctor
Shebbeare, who was put on the pillory, and confined in prison;
not for writing in the cause of his country, but for printing and
publishing the sixth letter to the people of England, in which
he most impudently and audaciously abuses George the First and
the present royal family. The Doctor frequently said in a public
coffeehouse, that he would have a pillory or a pension. In each of
these points he was gratified; Lord Mansfield complimented him with
the first, and Lord Bute rewarded him with the second. The honour he
enjoyed long ago, the emolument he died in the receipt of a very few
years since.

[79] The late Doctor Barrowby persuaded a dying man, that being much
better he might venture with him in his chariot to the hustings in
Covent Garden, to poll for Sir George Vandeput. The unhappy voter
took his physician's advice, and in less than an hour after his
return--expired.

[80] This sagacious-looking gentleman is said to be intended as a
portraiture of the late Bub Doddington, afterwards Lord Melcombe.

[81] It has been thought that this carries some allusion to a
circumstance which happened at the contested Oxfordshire election
in 1754, when an outrageous mob, in the old interest, surrounded a
post-chaise and attempted to throw it into the river; but Captain
T----, who was in the carriage, shot a chimney-sweeper that was a
ringleader in the assault, and his followers dispersed.

[82] About the year 1740, when party disputes ran very high, a
gentleman of superior talents and undeviating integrity offered
himself as a candidate for a town in the West of England. The first
person whose vote he solicited asked him if he was a Whig or a Tory?
"Neither," was the reply; "I profess myself a moderate man, and when
administration act right, will vote with them,--when wrong, against
them." "And be these really thy principles!" said the elector; "be
these really thy principles! Then thou shalt not have my vote; but
I'll give thee a piece of advice. Thou seest my door; it leads into
the street, the right-hand side of which is for the Tories, the left
for the Whigs; and for a cold-blooded moderate man like thee, there
is the kennel, and in it I advise thee to walk, for thee be'st not
decided enough for any other situation."

[83] This must indisputably be considered as the lawyer's mansion,
not merely because it has a better appearance than any house we have
seen in the foregoing prints, but because a parchment label, which
hangs out of an upper window where a clerk is writing, is inscribed
"Indintur." Had the artist thought it worth while to have consulted
Master Henry Dilworth, or any other eminent schoolmaster, this
orthography had been corrected.

[84] When many of those gentleman who had been very active in the
Revolution, and materially contributed to the success of our great
deliverer, applied to a nobleman high in office for the first places
in the State, he answered their requests by referring them to the
Roman history: "There," says he, "you will find that geese twice
saved the Capitol; but I never heard that those geese were made
Consuls."

[85] "Vermin" is a coarse phrase, but I think in a degree
appropriate. How similar are the effects attendant on a swarm of
pettifogging lawyers settling in a country town, to those resulting
from a swarm of noxious and destructive insects settling in a garden!

[86] A nobleman, whose name it is not necessary to record, was so
struck with the wit of this motto, that he had it inscribed upon a
common eight-day clock.

[87] The life of Andrew Marvel forms a fine contrast to the life
of a modern patriot. He was the son of a clergyman who resided
at Kingston-upon-Hull, in Yorkshire, at which town he was born
in the year 1624. His first appearance in public business was as
an assistant to John Milton, when that inspired poet was Latin
secretary to the Protector. A little before the Restoration he was
chosen representative for his native town, and afterwards re-elected
for the same place, and had a seat in that Parliament which began
at Westminster, May 8, 1661. In this station he discharged his
trust with the utmost fidelity, and always displayed a particular
regard for those by whom he was elected; for he regularly sent the
particulars of every proceeding in the House to the heads of the town
which he represented, and to these accounts always joined his own
opinion. This gained so much upon their affections, that they allowed
him an honourable pension during the whole time he sat in Parliament,
which was until his death. By his actions and writings he rendered
himself obnoxious to the ruling powers; notwithstanding which,
Charles the Second much delighted in his company. Having one evening
passed some hours with this good-humoured monarch, his Majesty next
morning sent Lord Treasurer Danby to find out his lodgings. Mr.
Marvel's apartments were up two pair of stairs, in a little court
in the Strand, where he was writing when the Lord Treasurer rather
abruptly opened the door. Surprised at so unexpected a visitor, Mr.
Marvel told his Lordship he believed he had mistaken his way. Lord
Danby replied, "Not, now I have found Mr. Marvel;" adding, "I come
with a message from his Majesty, who wishes to know what he can do to
serve you." "I know," replied Marvel, "the nature of courts too well
to lay myself under the obligation; for whoever is distinguished by
a prince's favours, is certainly expected to vote in his interest."
Lord Danby told him that his Majesty was sensible of his merits, and
on that account alone desired to know if there were any place at
Court which he would be pleased with. These offers, though urged with
the greatest earnestness, had no effect. He told the nobleman, that
to accept them with honour was impossible; because, added he, "I must
either be ungrateful to the King in voting against him, or false to
my country in giving in to the measures of the Court. The only favour
therefore which I beg of his Majesty is, that he will esteem me to be
as dutiful a subject as any he has; and more in his proper interest
by refusing these offers than if I had accepted them." The Lord
Danby, finding that no argument would prevail, told him that the King
had ordered him a thousand pounds, which he requested him to receive
as a token of royal favour. This last offer was rejected with the
same stedfastness as the first, though, soon after the Lord Treasurer
was gone, he was under the necessity of sending to a friend to borrow
a guinea. The greatest temptations of riches or honours could never
bribe him to depart from what he thought the interest of his country,
neither could the most imminent dangers deter him from pursuing it.

He died, not without strong suspicions of being poisoned, August the
16th, 1678, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and was interred in
the Church of St. Giles' in the Fields. Highly to the honour of the
inhabitants of Kingston-upon-Hull, they in the year 1683 contributed
a sum of money for a monument to the memory of this best of men and
most incorruptible of senators; but the then minister of St. Giles'
forbade its being erected in that church, on account of the following
epitaph which was inscribed on it:--

"Near this place lieth the body of Andrew Marvel, Esq., a man so
endowed by nature, so improved by education, study, and travel;
so consummated by experience and learning, that joining the most
peculiar graces of wit with a singular penetration and strength
of judgment, and exercising all these in the whole course of his
life with unalterable steadiness in the ways of virtue, he became
the ornament and example of his age; beloved by good men, feared
by bad, admired by all, though imitated, alas, by few, and scarce
paralleled by any. But a tombstone can neither contain his character,
nor is marble necessary to transmit it to posterity; it is engraved
in the minds of this generation, and will be always legible in his
inimitable writings. Nevertheless, he having served near twenty years
successively in Parliament, and that with such wisdom, dexterity,
integrity, and courage as became a true patriot, the town of
Kingston-upon-Hull, from whence he was constantly returned to that
assembly, lamenting in his death the public loss, have erected this
monument of their grief and gratitude.

      "Heu fragile humanum genus! Heu terrestria vana!
      Heu quem spectatum continet urna virum!"

In Mr. Mason's animated _Ode to Independency_, the dignified virtue
of this truly patriotic character is described

      "In thoughts that breathe, and words that burn."


[88] "Such were the words of the bards in the days of song, when the
king heard the music of harps, and the tales of other times."--_Songs
of Selma_, p. 302.

[89] In the early impressions it is spelt _Prusia_. It has been said
with great confidence, that after twenty-five were worked off, this
error in orthography was discovered and amended. I have seen at least
fifty, and think it probable that all which were subscribed for were
delivered before any alteration was made in the spelling.

[90] This word is explained in the _Slang Dictionary_ as a cant
expression for the threat of a blow.

[91] The fifer is designed for the portrait of a young lad who was
much noticed by the late William Duke of Cumberland; and who, from
the propriety of his conduct, was first rewarded with a halberd, and
afterwards promoted to a pair of colours.

[92] This is said to be the portrait of a fellow known by the name
of Jockey James, a most frequent attendant on the nursery for
bruising, under the management of the mighty Broughton. Jockey had
a son who rendered himself eminent by boxing with Smallwood, and
many other athletic pugilists. The French pieman, grenadier, and
chimney-sweeper, are also taken from the life, and said, by those
who recollect their persons, to be very faithful resemblances of the
persons intended.

[93] This gentleman displays the great difference between _an_
officer, and _a officer_: he comes under the latter description.

[94] This is Mr. Thornton's remark, and rather too severe. Lord North
once declared in the House of Commons that he saw no harm in the
officers of the Guards. "They have nothing to do," added he, "but
walk in the park, kiss the nursery-maids, and drink the children's
milk."

[95] This figure is introduced in the very curious print of
"Enthusiasm Delineated," and in the eleventh print of "Industry and
Idleness," and was designed as a portrait of Mother Douglass of the
Piazza.

[96] Lavater's character of this people is not exactly similar to
Hogarth's delineation; it is, however, curious: "The form of a
Frenchman is different from that of all other nations, and difficult
to describe in words. No other man has so little of the firm or
deep traits, or so much motion. He is all appearance, all gesture;
therefore the first impression seldom deceives, but declares who and
what he is. His imagination is incapable of high flights; and the
sublime in all arts is to him offence. Hence his dislike of whatever
is antique in art or literature, his deafness to true music, his
blindness to the highest beauties of painting. His last most striking
trait is, that he is astonished at everything, and cannot imagine how
it is possible men should be any other than they are at Paris."

[97] Among the number of ingenious allusions which the seekers of
Hogarth's meanings have pointed out, I have never heard it remarked
that the standard waves immediately over this under-sized hero, who
is consequently _under the standard_!

[98] Let not the reader imagine that this quotation alludes to
the Duke's ponderous equestrian statue in Cavendish Square. That
glittering monument of burnished brass bears no very striking
resemblance to either an angel or a fiery Pegasus. It must, however,
be considered as a monument of the taste, vanity, and gratitude of
Colonel Salter.

[99] Grotesque delineations have more influence upon the populace
than the philosopher is apt to imagine. Sir Robert Walpole inspected
every political print and political ballad that was published,
and said that from these vulgar effusions he could form a certain
judgment of the genuine spirit and local prejudices which actuated
the multitude.

[100] Election is, I believe, in its general sense, the act of
choosing. We see by the application of the word in this book, it was
not then confined to choosing a member of Parliament, but applied
indiscriminately to either bird or beast.

[101] This is mere conjecture; but from Jackson the humpbacked
jockey, and some other sedate personages who were present, I think it
is more likely to be designed for that place than any other.

[102] A man of rank with these plebeian propensities might in the
year 1759 be considered as a phenomenon: in this age of elegant
accomplishment and universal refinement, the thing is common. We
now see men of family and fortune ambitious of becoming umpires in
battles between Big Ben and the Ruffian!

[103] The "March to Finchley."

[104] When Garrick first came on the stage, and one very sultry
evening in the month of May performed the character of Lear, he in
the first four acts received the customary tribute of applause. At
the conclusion of the fifth, when he wept over the body of Cordelia,
every eye caught the soft infection--the big round tear ran down
every cheek. At this interesting moment, to the astonishment of
all present, his face assumed a new character, and his whole frame
appeared agitated by a new passion: it was not tragic, for he was
evidently endeavouring to suppress a laugh. In a few seconds the
attendant nobles appeared to be affected in the same manner; and
the beauteous Cordelia, who was reclined upon a crimson couch,
opening her eyes to see what occasioned the interruption, leapt
from her sofa, and with the majesty of England, the gallant Albany,
and tough old Kent, ran laughing off the stage. The audience could
not account for this strange termination of a tragedy in any other
way than by supposing the _dramatis personæ_ were seized with a
sudden frenzy; but their risibility had a different source. A fat
Whitechapel butcher, seated on the centre of the front bench in the
pit, was accompanied by his mastiff, who being accustomed to sit on
the same seat with his master at home, naturally thought he might
enjoy the like privilege here. The butcher sat very back, and the
quadruped finding a fair opening, got upon the bench, and fixing his
fore-paws on the rail of the orchestra, peered at the performers
with as upright a head and as grave an air as the most sagacious
critic of his day. Our corpulent slaughter-man was made of melting
stuff, and not being accustomed to a playhouse heat, found himself
much oppressed by the weight of a large and well-powdered Sunday
peruke, which, for the gratification of cooling and wiping his head,
he pulled off, and placed on the head of his mastiff. The dog being
in so conspicuous, so obtrusive a situation, caught the eye of Mr.
Garrick and the other performers. A mastiff in a churchwarden's
wig (for the butcher was a parish officer) was too much: it would
have provoked laughter in Lear himself, at the moment he was most
distressed; no wonder, then, that it had such an effect on his
representative.

[105] In the second canto of a poem entitled _The Gamblers_, are the
following notes:--

"By the cockpit laws, the man who cannot or who will not pay his
debts of honour, is liable to exaltation in a basket."

"Stephen's exaltation in a basket, and his there continuing to bet
though unable to pay, is taken from a scene in one of Hogarth's
prints, humorously setting forth that there are men whom a passion
for gaming does not forsake, even in the very hour that they stand
proclaimed insolvents."

[106] Frequently called Deptford Nan, and sometimes dignified with a
title--Duchess of Deptford! She was a famous cock-feeder, well known
at Newmarket, and did the honours of the gentlemen's ordinary at
Northampton, while a bachelor presided at the table appropriated to
the ladies.

[107] A small print published in the year 1732, of which there are
three copies.

[108] I have inserted the name of Gay on the authority of Mr.
Nichols' _Anecdotes_, in page 177 of which is the following remark
from a correspondent:--

"That Pope was silent on the merits of Hogarth (as one of your
readers has observed) should excite little astonishment, as our
artist's print on the South Sea exhibits the translator of Homer in
no very flattering point of view. He is represented with one of his
hands in the pocket of a fat personage, who wears a horn-book at his
girdle. For whom this figure was designed is doubtful; perhaps it was
meant for Gay, who was a fat man, and a loser in the scheme, etc.
The horn-book he wears at his girdle perhaps refers to the fables he
wrote for the Duke of Cumberland. The conclusion to the inscription
under this plate--'Guess at the rest, you'll find out more'--seems
also to imply a consciousness of such personal satire as it was not
prudent to explain."

The conjecture that this is designed for Gay is fair, but I think not
quite conclusive. Hogarth would not have represented the translator
of Homer diving into the coat pocket of a brother bard for coin, and
Gay could not be robbed of anything else. May not the label with
A--B--, etc., be intended to point out Arbuthnot: he also was a fat
man, and so careless of fame, that he suffered Pope, and some other
eminent contemporary authors, to plunder him of the best part of his
writings, which they afterwards modestly published as their own;
_vide_ a very large portion of _Martinus Scriblerus_, particularly
Pope's own edition, published in 1742.

Pope is again introduced in a print published about the year 1728,
entitled "Rich's Glory, or The Triumphant Entry into Covent Garden,"
improperly said to be the production of Hogarth.

[109] This satire is wound up with a well-turned apology for the
folly, but even here a dart must be hurled at the Duke.--The dart
recoils, and returns to him who threw it; for although his Grace was
vainly ostentatious, and absurdly extravagant, he was kind-hearted
and beneficent to a fault:--

      "Yet hence the poor are cloth'd, the hungry fed:
      Health to himself, and to his infants bread,
      The lab'rer bears: what his hard heart denies,
      His charitable vanity supplies.
      Another age shall see the golden ear
      Embrown the slope, and nod on the parterre;
      Deep harvests bury all his pride has plann'd,
      And laughing Ceres re-assume the land."

It is a singular circumstance that the prophecy in the last four
lines (for a prophecy it must be called) should be fulfilled, I had
almost said in the poet's lifetime. A very few years after his death,
when Hallet the upholsterer purchased Canons, the park was ploughed
up and sown with corn.

I have somewhere seen an epigram, written soon after the publication
of this epistle:--

      "What Chandos builds let Pope no more deride,
      Because he took not Nature for his guide,
      Since, mighty Bard--in thy own form we see
      That nature may mistake, as well as he."


[110] We have amateurs of boxing, and why not of cock-fighting?

[111] This noble diversion may with more propriety be called royal
in India than in England, for it is not peculiar to Great Britain,
neither is it confined within the narrow boundaries of Europe. In
a picture which Mr. Zoffani designed from nature, he has exhibited
the Nabob of Oude, and a crowd of his courtiers, dressed in their
robes of state surrounding a cockpit. The Asiatic Sovereign, his
brother, and his attendants, display as much eagerness for gain, and
rapacity of physiognomy, as is to be seen in the most notorious of
our Newmarket gamblers.

[112] Throwing at cocks on this day is, I hope and believe, a less
prevalent custom than it once was. Our ancestors must have formed
strange notions of the duties that were acceptable to the Deity on
commencement of Lent, when they set apart the eve as a proper time
for the martyrdom of this inoffensive animal.

[113]

      "Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods,
      Draw near them then in being merciful;
      Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge."


[114] "A beautiful Diana, with her trussed-up robes, the crescent
alone wanting, stands on the high altar to receive homage in the
character of St. Agnes, in a pretty church dedicated to her (_fuor
della Porte_), where it is supposed she suffered martyrdom: and why?
Why, for not venerating that very goddess Diana, and for refusing to
walk in her procession at the new moons, like a good Christian girl.
Such contradictions put one from oneself, as Shakspeare says."--Mrs.
Piozzi's _Letters_.

[115] A catalogue of the massacres, slaughters, and assassinations
which have taken place for little differences of opinion, would fill
a library. Superstition has been the general cause of man destroying
man.

[116] The infatuation of the lower order of the people during the
drawing of a lottery is hardly to be conceived. They cannot consult
Virgil, but they consult every star in the firmament, and every male
and female astrologer in the parish, to find out lucky numbers.
Figures chalked on the wall, and dreams, have great credit; and much
respect is paid to the year of their birth, a husband's or wife's
death, etc. etc. The destructive consequences of this thirst for
divination it is not necessary to enumerate,--they are recorded in
the annals of Bethlehem Hospital and the Newgate Calendar.

[117] A field preacher in one of the provinces, from the strength of
his lungs and length of his extemporary harangues, being for some
months attended by a more numerous congregation than the parson of
the parish, began to think himself the more orthodox man. Fraught
with this idea, he one Sunday evening went to the vestry-room, waited
until the service concluded, and then very rudely attacked the
clergyman, telling him he came to convince him, to confound him, and
to convert him by the word! This was followed by the recital of a
thousand texts from various parts of the Holy Scriptures, so combined
as to prove whatever he wished; and concluded by, "This is all from
the Bible, and by the Bible I desires to abide.--Answer me by the
same book." The clergyman being a man of some humour, after hearing
him with much patience, very coolly asked this labourer in the
vineyard if he recollected a text in the book of Kings, where it is
written, "Then Ahithophel set his house in order, and went and hanged
himself." "Certainly," replied the man, "I know it to be scripture."
"Good," added the divine; "examine the Gospel of St. Luke, and you
will find it written, 'Go and do thou likewise.' This I earnestly
recommend, and so farewell."

[118] "Some witches, examined and executed at Mohra, in Sweden, in
1670, confessed that the devil gives them a beast about the bigness
and shape of a young cat, which they call a carrier, etc."--Glanville
_On Witches_, p. 494.

"For their being sucked by their familiar, we know so little of
the nature of demons and spirits, that it is no wonder we cannot
certainly divine the reason of so strange an action. And yet we
may conjecture at some things that may render it less improbable.
For some have thought that the Genii (whom both the Platonic and
Christian antiquity thought embodied) are re-created by the reeks and
vapours of human blood, and the spirits that proceed from them: which
supposal (if we grant them bodies) is not unlikely, everything being
refreshed and nourished by its like. And that they are not perfectly
abstracted from all body and matter; besides the reverence we owe
to the wisest antiquity, there are several considerable arguments
I could allege to render it probable: which things supposed, the
devil's suckling the sorceress is no great wonder, nor difficult to
be accounted for. Or perhaps this may be only a diabolical sacrament
and ceremony to confirm the hellish covenant."--_Glanville_, p. 10.

In the above, and any future quotations I may find it necessary to
make from this great and sagacious author, I beg it may be observed
that I quote from the fourth edition, published in 1726.

[119] Master Lilly remarketh that angels (and he must unquestionably
mean to include fallen angels) very rarely speak unto any
one; but when they do, it is like the Irish--very much in the
throat.--_Lilly's Life_, p. 88.

[120] Curses are not peculiar to one church; John Boys, D.D., Dean of
Canterbury, 1629, educated at Clare Hall, in Cambridge, was famous
for his postils in defence of our liturgy, and was also much esteemed
for his good life. He gained great applause by turning the Lord's
Prayer into the following execration, when he preached at Paul's
Cross:--"Our Pope which art in Rome, cursed be thy name; perish may
thy kingdom; hindered may thy will be, as it is in heaven, so in
earth. Give us this day our cup in the Lord's Supper, and remit our
monies which we have given for thy indulgences, as we send them back
unto thee; and lead us not into heresy, but free us from misery, for
thine is the infernal pitch and sulphur, for ever and ever. Amen."

[121] "Several of the female devotees have waxen images in their
hands. Master Glanville observeth that the devil frequently bringeth
unto witches a waxen picture, which they, having christened it by
the name of the person they wish to torment, thrust pins into;
using these words as they perform their ceremonies, _Thout tout,
a tout, tout, throughout and about.--Rentum, tormentum, etc.
etc._"--_Glanville_, p. 297.

How wonderful has Shakspeare appropriated these idle tales in his
tragedy of _Macbeth_! He did not build upon the fables of Greece
and Rome; but leaving the mob of heathen deities to range over the
classic ground which gave them birth, leaving those writers who draw
all their supplies from the fountain of antiquity to take their
copious draughts unmolested, he adopted the creed of his own nation,
and on the dim legends of superstition, and oral traditions of
credulity, raised a superstructure which has stood the test of ages,
become more admired as it has been more minutely examined, and is now
gazed at with an almost idolatrous veneration.

[122] The influence of these men is astonishing. They have the mind,
body, and outward estate of their proselytes under their absolute
direction; all their assertions are considered as prophecies, and
every request has the force of a command.

Men seem to have a natural tendency to a belief in divination; and
we have many instances where the commanders of armies have made
great use of this easy faith. When Cromwell was in Scotland, a
soldier stood with Lilly's _Almanac_ in his hand, and as the troops
passed him, roared out, "Lo! hear what Lilly saith: you are promised
victory! Fight it out, brave boys; and when you have conquered--read
the month's prediction."

[123] Whosoever wisheth to know more of this Surrey Semiramis and her
brood of rabbits, may consult the _Memoirs of M. St. Andre_, and some
twelve or fifteen ingenious pamphlets, published about the year 1726,
at which time a number of surgeons subscribed a guinea each to Mr.
Hogarth, for a print from a whimsical design he had previously made
on this very philosophical subject.

[124] The figure is, I believe, intended for the boy of Bilson,
who, with an ostrich-like appetite, swallowed as many tenpenny
nails as would have furnished a petty ironmonger's shop. This young
gentleman, who in his day deceived a whole county, was only thirteen
years of age. His extraordinary fits, agitations, and the surprising
distempers with which he seemed to be afflicted, induced those who
saw him to believe he was bewitched, and possessed with a devil.
During the time he was in fits, he appeared both deaf and blind;
writhing, groaning, and panting; and although often pinched, pricked
with needles, tickled, severely whipped, and otherwise corrected,
never seemed sensible of what was done to him. When he was thought
to be out of his fits, he digested nothing that was given him for
nourishment, but would often astonish those present by bringing up
thread, straw, crooked pins, nails, needles, etc. At this period
his throat swelled, his tongue grew rigid, and he appeared to be
incapable of speaking.

This juvenile impostor accused a poor honest industrious old woman
of witchcraft, and asserted that she had bewitched him. By his
artful behaviour when she was brought into the room where he was, he
raised in the minds of those about him a strong presumption of his
accusations being founded. Under these impressions, the woman was
tried at Stafford assizes, but the jury had sense enough to acquit
her. By the judge's recommendation, the boy was committed to the care
of the Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, who happened to be present
in court. His Grace took him to his palace at Eccleshall, and there,
having the previous advice of several physicians, intended to try the
effect of severity; but being in the meantime informed that the boy
always fell into violent agitations upon hearing that verse of St.
John's Gospel, "In the beginning was the Word," etc., resolved to try
another experiment. Assuming a grave and austere countenance, he thus
addressed him:--

"Boy, it is either thou thyself or the devil that abhorrest these
words of the Gospel; and if it be the devil, there is no doubt of his
understanding all languages, so that he cannot but know and show his
abhorrence when I recite the same sentence out of the Gospel in the
Greek text; but if it be thyself, then thou art an execrable wretch,
who playest the devil's part in loathing that portion of the Gospel
of Christ, which above all other scripture doth express the admirable
union of the Godhead in one Christ and Saviour, which union is the
arch pillar of man's salvation. Wherefore look unto thyself, for now
thou art to be put unto trial, and mark diligently whether it be
the same scripture which shall be read unto thee out of the Greek
Testament, at the reading whereof in the English tongue thou dost
seem to be so much troubled and tormented."

This experiment succeeded, for neither the boy nor the devil
understood the Greek version.

[125] It was deemed an approved remedy for witchcraft, to put a small
wax model of any one under this baneful influence into a quart bottle
with water, cork it up to confine the spirit, and place it before the
fire. Notwithstanding all these precautions, the spirit sometimes
forced the cork, and cast the contents of the bottle a considerable
height.

[126] Of the writings of this paragon of English monarchs--so wise
that he was called the Solomon of Great Britain--it has been truly
said, "They are to be found in chandlers' shops even unto this day."

[127] A very grave historian relates, that the ghost of Sir George
Villiers appeared to one who had been his servant, charging him to
inform his son of the plan laid to destroy him! The servant obeyed
his instructions, and informed his Grace, but the Duke wanted
faith--was negligent--and was assassinated: though it does not seem
probable that the crazed enthusiast who committed the murder had
sufficient coherence of mind to lay any regular plan.

[128] Drelincourt's _Defence against the Fears of Death_ is well
written; and in the confidence that a translation would sell, the
bookseller struck off a very large impression. They lay undisturbed
in his warehouse until Daniel Defoe added this ridiculous narrative,
which carried the book through one-and-twenty editions.

[129] This drummer was in the early part of his life a trooper in
Cromwell's army; and as almost all this regiment of saints considered
themselves in St. Paul's dragoons, our drummer occasionally
preached, exhorted, and expounded. When the Parliamentary army
was disbanded, or put under other commanders, the manners of the
people had a sudden and violent change; extreme strictness was
succeeded by universal dissipation, and the whole nation displayed
their abhorrence of their late rulers, and loyalty to their new
sovereign, by general licentiousness. A drum beat to a psalm tune
would no longer attract an audience; but still it was a favourite
instrument, and our heroic trooper, being free from military
engagements, drummed his way through the kingdom with a forged pass.
Happening to beat up in the neighbourhood of Tedworth, he attracted
the notice of a Mr. Mompesson, who seized the martial instrument,
and punished the bearer. From that time his ears were assailed by a
perpetual drumming, and his house for two or three years haunted by
apparitions. It attracted the notice of several of the neighbouring
clergy, and his Majesty Charles the Second, wishing to be satisfied
about every particular, sent down a number of persons to converse
with this noisy spirit; but during the time they stayed no spirit
appeared, neither was the sound of a drum heard. Notwithstanding
this, poor dub-a-dub was tried at Salisbury assizes, found guilty of
being a wizard, and luckily escaped with only transportation for life.

Upon this story was founded Addison's play of _The Drummer, or
the Haunted House_, which has too much good sense to be generally
relished at the theatres.

The Cock Lane ghost was engaged in scratching and hammering a very
short time before the plate was published. This ridiculous imposture
attracted the notice of many respectable characters. That one man,
whose writings are a mirror of truth and philosophy, and whose life
was an honour to human nature, should be so far under the influence
of superstition as to attend this nocturnal nonsense, draws a pitying
sigh.

[130] On the late John Wesley's particular opinions I do not presume
to make any comment; but his zealous and unremitting exertions in
what he deemed a good cause, added to the primitive simplicity of his
manners, entitled him to high respect.

Mr. Glanville was the patriarch of witchcraft, and therefore a very
proper high priest in the temple of credulity. As his book gained
him a good benefice, and as a number of his proselytes consider
_Sadducismus Triumphatus_ entitled to equal credence with holy writ,
I have subjoined a few extracts for the edification of those who may
not think the volume from which they are taken worth perusal. It
abounds with examples of barbarity, flowing from a blind and bigoted
credulity, at which human nature shudders.

A relation of the strange witchcraft, discovered in the village of
Mohra, in Swedeland, about the year 1670:--

"The news of this witchcraft coming to the king's ear, his Majesty
was pleased to appoint commissioners, some of the clergy and some of
the laity, to make a journey to the town above mentioned to examine
the whole business. The commissioners met on the 12th of August at
the parson's house, and to them the minister and several people
of fashion complained, with tears in their eyes, of the miserable
condition they were in, and therefore begged of them to think of some
way whereby they might be delivered from that calamity. They gave the
commissioners very strange instances of the devil's tyranny among
them: how, by the help of witches, he had drawn some hundreds of
children to him, and made them subject to his power; how he hath been
seen to go in a visible shape through the country, and appeared daily
to the people; how he had wrought upon the poorer sort, by presenting
them with meat and drink, and this way allured them to himself;
with other circumstances to be mentioned hereafter. They therefore
begged of the Lords Commissioners to root out this hellish crew, that
they might regain their former rest and quietness; and the rather,
because the children, which used to be carried away in the country
or district of Esdaile, since some witches had been burnt there,
remained unmolested.

"Examination being made, there were discovered no less
than three-score and ten witches in the village aforesaid;
three-and-twenty of which, freely confessing their crimes, were
condemned to die; the rest, one pretending she was with child, and
the others denying, and pleading not guilty, were sent to Faluna,
where most of them were afterwards executed.

"Fifteen children, which likewise confessed they were engaged in
this witchery, died as the rest; six-and-thirty of them, between
nine and sixteen years, who had been less guilty, were forced to
run the gauntlet: twenty more, who had no great inclination, yet
had been seduced to these hellish enterprises, because they were
very young, were condemned to be lashed with rods upon their hands
for three Sundays together, at the church door; and the aforesaid
six-and-thirty were also doomed to be lashed this way once a week
for a whole year together. The number of seduced children was
about three hundred, etc. The above narrative is taken out of
the public register, where all this, with more circumstances, is
related."--_Glanville_, p. 494.

"At Stockholm, in the year 1676, a young woman accused her mother of
being a witch, and swore positively that she had carried her away at
night; whereupon both the judges and ministers of the town exhorted
the old woman to confession and repentance. But she stiffly denied
the allegations, pleaded innocence; and though they burnt another
witch before her face, and lighted the fire she was to burn in before
her, yet she still justified herself, and continued to do so till
the last; and remaining obstinate, was burnt. A fortnight or three
weeks after, her daughter, who had accused her, came to the judges
in open court (weeping and howling), confessed that she had accused
her mother falsely, out of a spleen she had against her for not
gratifying her in a thing she desired, and had charged her with a
crime of which she was perfectly innocent. Hereupon the judges gave
orders for _her_ immediate execution."--Horneck's _Introduction to a
Narrative of Witchcraft, etc._--_Glanville_, p. 481.

These are the horrid effects of credulity. For the dreadful
devastations made among the human race by superstition, we may read
the history of the Inquisition. Among myriads of examples, I was much
struck by the following:--

"Along with the Jews that were to be burnt at an _auto-da-fe_,
there was a girl not seventeen years of age, who, standing on that
side where the queen sat, petitioned for mercy. She was wonderfully
pretty; and looking at the queen, while her eyes streamed with tears,
in a most pathetic tone of voice exclaimed, 'Will not the presence
of my sovereign make an alteration in my fate? Consider how short a
period I have lived, and that I suffer for adherence to a religion
which I imbibed with my mother's milk. Mercy! mercy! mercy!' The
queen turned away her eyes,--was evidently moved by compassion,
but--durst not ask the holy fathers for even a respite."--_M.
d'Aunoy_, p. 66.

What unlimited power! A queen dares not intercede for the pardon of
a young girl, guilty of no other crime than adhering to the faith of
her ancestors!

One of the most shocking circumstances that attend these consecrated
murders, is the indulgences which the Roman pontiffs have attached
to the executioners. Those who lead the poor condemned wretches to
the fire, and throw them into the flames, gain indulgences for one
hundred years. They who content themselves with only seeing them
executed, obtain fifty. What horror! The most detestable crimes, the
most unnatural cruelties, are made a means of obtaining pardons from
the God of mercy!

[131] Whitfield's _Hymns_, p. 130.

[132] See Mr. Burke's pamphlet on the French Revolution.

[133] This is a fair representation of what the Guards were then. The
highly-disciplined troop commanded by his Royal Highness of York defy
satire.

[134] See John Wilkes' history of the man after God's own heart.

[135] Hogarth seems to have thought that Mr. Pitt wished to be a
perpetual dictator; and, in truth, the Secretary's own assertion in
some degree justified the supposition: "He would not be responsible
for measures which he was no longer allowed to guide." Whether the
artist was right or wrong in his opinion, I do not presume to assert:
I have endeavoured to describe characters as he has delineated them;
but with respect to this great man, the safest way will be to quote
his contemporaries. I have subjoined two portraits, drawn in his
own day; let the reader adopt that which pleases him best. They
prove how difficult it is to ascertain what were the abilities of a
statesman from any accounts given during his life. One party assert
that Mr. Pitt unites, with the eloquence of Cicero and the force of
Demosthenes, the conciseness of Sallust and the polished periods of
Isocrates! Another,--but to extract a part is not doing justice to
the writers.


CHATHAM.

"As this lord has long been dead to the world, we shall speak of him
as a man that has been.

"A remarkable reflection, arising from the character of Lord Chatham,
strikes us: No statesman was ever more successful, and no statesman
ever deserved less to have been so.

"This man entered into the army very early in life, and there he
ought to have remained. His enterprise, his rashness, and his
scrupulous sense of honour, were qualities extremely proper in the
profession of arms, and would have adorned any military station,
except that of a chief commander. But the field he renounced for
the Cabinet, and ceased to be a good soldier that he might be a
bad statesman. In nature, he was rash, impetuous, haughty, and
uncontrollable; and these dangerous properties were neither tempered
nor improved by education. To those advantages which are acquired
by study, and those great views which are communicated by habits
of reflection, he was entirely a stranger. His quickness was not
corrected by judgment, and his mind frequently was tired of the
objects presented to it before it could perceive or comprehend
them. In a country where eloquence is little known, his noise and
vociferation acquired that name; and without the experience of
common sense, he was extolled as superior to Demosthenes or Tully.
His speeches were not wanting in fire, but they were innocent of
thought. He was perhaps the only man of his time who could harangue
for many hours without communicating one distinct and well-digested
idea to his audience. In estimating his own merit he knew no bounds.
His vanity was excessive: he saw every man inferior to himself: on
every man, therefore, he lavished his contempt. Capricious to the
most boyish excess, he was perpetually forming resolutions, which he
abandoned before he could put them in execution. Yet his instability,
through a fortuitous and whimsical concurrence of circumstances,
generally led the way to success. The happy blunders of his
administration procured him a reputation to which he had no title.
Every scheme he planned ought to have miscarried. We admire his good
fortune, not his wisdom. Popularity was the idol to which he bowed--a
certain proof that his conduct was not influenced by those superior
ideas which arise in high, liberal, and virtuous minds. Yet to this
idol he would have sacrificed everything: it would have sacrificed
everything to him. He possessed that intemperate pride which, instead
of guarding him from indecent errors, led him to indiscretions; and a
respectable character was seldom a security from the licentious fury
of his tongue. In private life he was restless, fretful, unsocial,
and perpetually affecting complaints which he did not feel: in public
life he was weak, headstrong, imprudent, and had no quality of a good
minister but enterprise. If he had continued in his first profession,
he might have served his country with honour; but his ambition
prompted him to assume the character of a statesman, and he abused it.

"On the whole, he possessed virtues; but his passions hurried them
into excess, and he did not even wish to restrain them."


Hear the other side:--


CHARACTER OF THE LATE EARL OF CHATHAM.

"The Secretary stood alone; modern degeneracy had not reached him;
original and unaccommodating--the features of his character had the
hardihood of antiquity. No State chicanery, no narrow system of
vicious politics, no idle contest for ministerial victories, sunk him
to the vulgar level of the great; but overbearing and persuasive,
his object was--England; his ambition--fame! Without dividing, he
destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous.
France sunk beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon,
and wielded with the other the democracy of England. The sight of his
mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England and
the present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the
means by which these schemes were accomplished; always seasonable,
always adequate, the suggestion of an understanding animated by
ardour, and enlightened by prophecy. The ordinary feelings which
make life amiable and indolent--those sensations which allure and
vulgarize--were unknown to him. A character so exalted, so strenuous,
so various, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age, and the
Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt through all her classes of
venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she found defects in
this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory,
and much of the ruin of his victories; but the history of his
country and the calamity of his enemies answered and refuted her.
Nor were his political abilities his only talents; his eloquence
was an era in the senate, peculiar and spontaneous, familiarly
expressing gigantic sentiments and instinctive wisdom: not like the
torrent of Demosthenes, or the conflagration of Tully; it resembled
sometimes the thunder and sometimes the music of the spheres. He
did not conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety
of argumentation; nor was he for ever on the rack of exertion,
but rather lightened on the subject, and reached the point by the
flashings of the mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt,
but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was in this man
something that could create, reform, or subvert; an understanding, a
spirit, and an eloquence to summon mankind to society, or to break
the bonds of slavery asunder, and rule the wildness of free minds
with unbounded authority: something that could establish or overwhelm
empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through
the universe."

At the time of Lord Chatham being interred, it was intimated in the
public prints that an epitaph descriptive of his talents and services
was to be inscribed on his tombstone; and that any one writing such
an epitaph would render an acceptable service to the committee who
had the management of his monument. The following was sent, but as it
was unkindly rejected by them, it is here inserted:--

  "HERE LIES THE BODY OF WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM;
  A GREAT AND ELOQUENT STATESMAN,
  WHOM THE KING DID NOT CONSULT OR EMPLOY,
  AND WHOM THE KING WAS RESOLVED NEVER TO CONSULT
  OR EMPLOY;
  A MOST INFORMED AND ENLIGHTENED SENATOR,
  A MOST CONVINCING AND PERSUASIVE ORATOR,
  WHOSE OPINIONS AND ADVICE THE PARLIAMENT HEARD WITH MOST
  ILLIBERAL IMPATIENCE,
  AND WHOSE ARGUMENTS THEY TREATED WITH MOST
  SOVEREIGN CONTEMPT.
  THESE WERE THE SENTIMENTS,
  AND THIS THE CONDUCT, OF BOTH KING AND PARLIAMENT.
  TO PERPETUATE THE MEMORY OF HIS ABILITIES,
  AND THEIR WISDOM,
  THAT KING AND THAT PARLIAMENT HAVE
  ERECTED THIS MONUMENT."


[136] It has been generally called a Cheshire cheese. Having never
seen this pride of the English dairy with a hole bored through the
middle, I have ventured to pronounce it a millstone.

[137] Lord Bute is said to be personified by one of the Highlanders:
as I cannot ascertain which, my reader must discover it--if he can.
The fireman is probably intended for the Duke of Bedford.

[138] If Hogarth must be so unmercifully abused for what he inserted,
he is entitled to some credit for what he erased. I hope this blot in
his original design will not be considered as an additional blot on
his escutcheon.

[139] The small pyramid upon a little pedestal immediately behind
him is, I think, an afterthought. It much resembles the ornament
inscribed "Cyprus," which was painted on Hogarth's chariot, and might
possibly be intended to carry some allusion to himself, for the
stream of water from one of the garretteers just touches the point.

[140] Hogarth seems to have had a strong antipathy to the politics of
this year. In later impressions of Plate 8 of "The Rake's Progress"
will be found a halfpenny with the same date, in which Britannia is
represented in the character of a maniac, with dishevelled hair, etc.

[141] If this sign of the Castle were not inscribed "_New_castle
Inn," we should take it for a very old castle indeed. Its being in so
ruinous a state, the frame shattered, and off one hook, describes the
Duke's interest at that time. His Grace might be termed a Father of
the Church, for he had promoted almost every bishop in the kingdom,
and during the continuance of his administration an archbishop's
levee could not have a more sable appearance. He resigned, or
was turned out, which the reader pleaseth; and at his succeeding
levee--there was not one ecclesiastic!

[142] Lord Besborough and the Honourable Robert Hampden were, I
think, joint Postmasters-General this year; a short time after, Lord
Egmont had the situation of Lord Besborough, but soon resigned.

[143] The Prince of Wales was born on the 12th of August 1762.
Just after her Majesty was safely in her bed, the waggons with the
treasure of the Hermione entered Saint James's Street, on which the
king and the nobility went to the window over the palace gate to see
them, and joined their acclamations on two such joyful occasions.
From hence the procession, consisting of twenty waggons, etc.,
proceeded to the tower.--_Annual Register, 1762, Art. August_.

[144] In the _London Magazine_ for September 1762, I find the
following explanation:--

  "The subject of this print is, as its title expresses it, 'The
  Times.' The first object is a quarter of the globe on fire, supposed
  to be Europe; and France, Germany, and Spain, denoted by their
  respective arms, are represented in flames, which appear to be
  extending themselves to Great Britain itself. And this desolation
  is continued and increased by Mr. P----, who is represented by the
  figure of Henry VIII., with a pair of bellows blowing up those
  flames which others are endeavouring to extinguish. He is mounted
  on the stilts of the populace. There is a Cheshire cheese hanging
  between his legs, and round the same '£3000 per annum.' The manager
  of the engine-pipe is L---- B----, who is assisted in working the
  engine by sailors, English soldiers, and Highlanders; but their good
  offices are impeded by a man with a wheel-barrow, overladen with
  _Monitors_ and _North Britons_, brought to be thrown in to keep up
  the flame. The respectable body depictured under Mr. P----, are the
  m---- of London, who are worshipping the idol they had formerly set
  up; whilst a German prince, who alone is sure to profit by the war,
  is amusing himself with a violin among his miserable countrymen. It
  is sufficiently apparent who is meant by the fine gentleman at the
  dining-room window of the Temple Coffeehouse, who is squirting at
  the director of the engine-pipe, whilst his garretteers are engaged
  in the same employment. The picture of the Indian alludes to the
  advocates for the retaining our West India conquests, which, they
  say, will only increase excess and debauchery; and the breaking down
  the Newcastle Arms, and the drawing up the patriotic ones, refer to
  the resignation of a noble Duke, and the appointment of a successor.
  The Dutchman smoking his pipe, with a fox peeping out beneath him,
  the emblem of cunning, waiting the issue; the waggon with the
  treasures of the Hermione; the unnecessary marching of the militia,
  signified by the Norfolk jig; the dove with the olive branch; and the
  miseries of war, are obvious, and need no explication."

  In a newspaper of the day is the following whimsical description of
  the characters the writer chooses to say were really intended:--

  "The principal figure, in the character of Henry VIII., appears
  to be not Mr. P----, but another person, whose power is signified
  by his bulk of carcase, treading on Mr. P----, represented by
  3000. The bellows may signify his well-meant though ineffectual
  endeavours to extinguish the fire by wind, which, though it will
  put out a small flame, will cherish a large one. The guider of the
  engine-pipe I should think can only mean his M----, who unweariedly
  tries, by a more proper method, to stop the flames of war, in which
  he is assisted by all his good subjects both by sea and land,
  notwithstanding any interruption from _Auditors_ or _Britons_,
  _Monitors_ or _North Britons_. The respectable body at the bottom can
  never mean the magistrates of London: Mr. H---- has more sense than
  to abuse so respectable a body. Much less can it mean the judges. I
  think it may as likely be the Court of Session in Scotland, either
  in the attitude of adoration, or with outspread arms, intending to
  catch their patron should his stilts give way. The Frenchman may
  very well sit at his ease among his miserable countrywomen, as he
  is not unacquainted that France has always gained by negotiating
  what she lost in fighting. The fine gentleman at the window, with
  his garretteers, and the barrow of periodical papers, refers to the
  present contending parties of every denomination. The breaking of
  the Newcastle Arms alludes to the resignation of a great personage;
  and the replacing of them by the sign of the Four Clenched Fists
  may be thought emblematical of the great economy of his successor.
  The Norfolk jig signifies in a lively manner the alacrity of all
  his Majesty's forces during the war; and G. T. (George Townshend)
  _fecit_, is an opportune compliment paid to Lord Townshend, who, in
  conjunction with Mr. Wyndham, published _A Plan of Discipline for
  the use of the Norfolk Militia_, quarto, and had been the greatest
  advocate for the establishment of our present militia. The picture of
  the Indian alive from America, is a satire on our late uncivilised
  behaviour to the three chiefs of the Cherokee nation who were lately
  in this kingdom, and the bags of money set this in a still clearer
  point of view, signifying the sums gained by showing them at our
  public gardens. The sly Dutchman with his pipe seems pleased with the
  combustion, from which he thinks he shall be a gainer; and the Duke
  of Nivernois, under the figure of a dove, is coming from France to
  give a cessation of hostilities to Europe."

[145] In the first impressions, considering Mr. Pitt as a tyrant, he
introduced him in the character of Henry VIII.; this was afterwards
properly altered.

[146] "There are strong prejudices in favour of straight lines, as
constituting true beauty in the human form, where they never should
appear. A middling connoisseur thinks no profile has beauty without
a very straight nose; and if the forehead be continued straight with
it, he thinks it is still more sublime. The common notion that a
person should be straight as an arrow, and perfectly erect, is of
this kind. If a dancing-master were to see his scholar in the easy
and gracefully turned attitude of the Antinous, he would cry shame
on him, and tell him he looked as crooked as a ram's horn, and bid
him hold up his head as he himself did."--_Preface to the Analysis of
Beauty_, p. 8.

[147] Of Ramsay's manner, Churchill had an opinion similar to
Hogarth's. Speaking of Scotland, he says,

      "From thence the Ramsays, men of 'special note,
      Of whom one paints as well as t'other wrote."

      --_Prophecy of Famine._


[148] The British Lion seems by no means delighted at the
distribution he is forced to make. The strong arm, drawing a long
lever, has distorted his mouth, and, though gagged, his wry face
shows his agony.

[149] Among the admirable things recorded as Mr. Wilkes' jests, is a
remark upon this same _red_ book: "Sir, it is the only book now red"
(_read_).

[150] See the _North Briton_.

[151] As a paint-pot and brushes are placed in the corner, it is
supposed Hogarth intended to represent Himself as one of the group:
perhaps this may be the figure.

[152] The porter with his knot upon his head, and a pipe in his
mouth, leans against the pillory.

[153] Let it be observed, that in this, as well as in many more of
Mr. Hogarth's prints, the buildings are reversed: in the drawing from
whence the engraving was made they were right.

[154] To be told that I am wrong in some of their names will not
surprise me. The figure presenting a snuff-box, I judged to be
Earl Temple, from his face having been originally etched without
features, and a nose and chin added. Another with a riband, whose
back only is seen, from its similarity to an engraving after the
design of a noble marquis, I have denominated Lord Winchelsea. A
higher figure, on his left hand, is possibly the Duke of Bedford; the
interrogating profile, with a hat on, somewhat lower, has the air
of Mr. Rigby.[155] I have conjectured that a gentleman remarkably
rotund is intended for Lord Melcombe; the noble lord beneath him may
be designed for the Duke of Devonshire; and the grave senator in
spectacles, above the ear-trumpet, is perhaps Earl Bath.

[155] The rail, which I have said was perhaps intended to divide the
Commons from the Lords, might yet be designed to divide the men most
active in the Opposition from the Ministry. To either supposition
there are objections which I cannot solve.

[156] A man in a porter-house, classing himself as an eminent
literary character, was asked by one of his companions what right
he had to assume such a title? the reply was remarkable: "Sir, I'd
have you know, I had the honour of chalking Number 45 upon every door
between Temple Bar and Hyde Park Corner."

[157] The public must certainly have had the same opinion, for at
that period Mr. Wilkes was in the meridian of his popularity. Though
not exactly like Gay's hare in the fable, he had many friends, and
Mr. Nichols relates, that a copperplate printer informed him near
four thousand copies of this etching were worked off in a few weeks.
These must necessarily have been sold, and we may naturally infer
were bought by his friends.

[158] Equally memorable was his reply to a friend who requested
him to sit to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and have his portrait placed
in Guildhall, being then so popular a character that the Court of
Aldermen would willingly have paid the expense. "No," replied he,
"No! they shall never have a delineation of my face, that will carry
to posterity so damning a proof of what it was. Who knows but a time
may come when some future Horace Walpole will treat the world with
another quarto volume of historic doubts, in which he may prove that
the numerous squinting portraits on tobacco papers and halfpenny
ballads, inscribed with the name of John Wilkes, are 'a weak
invention of the enemy,' for that I was not only unlike them, but, if
any inference can be drawn from the general partiality of the fair
sex, the handsomest man of the age I lived in."

[159] If Hogarth at first intended it for a caricature, who knows but
the old lion might have repented himself, for he afterwards threw the
original drawing into the fire; it was snatched out by Mrs. Lewis.

[160] That Hogarth should be unseen by all, and yet seen by Virtue,
if not a blunder, is very nearly allied to it.

[161] This remark extends no further than to the figure of Churchill.
In the little design on a palette, which was added some time after
the print was published, there is much wit.

[162] These angry strains had, I suppose, their origin in Hogarth
having on some occasion charged Churchill with falsehood. The
accusation might probably allude to personal satire, and the bard's
warmest admirers must admit, that though his characters are highly
drawn, and still more highly coloured, they are rather political than
historical, rather poetical than biographical. An uneducated painter,
who had not taste enough to conceive that poetry, however animated,
could make that truth which he knew to be falsehood, might possibly
give his opinion in very displeasing terms.

[163] Porter was the poet's favourite beverage; but though he quaffed
more _entire butt than bard beseems_, he drank still deeper draughts
from the fountain of Helicon. Many of his stanzas breathe inspiration.

[164] Much wretched writing, in both verse and prose, concerning this
contest between the pencil and the pen, was inserted in the prints of
the day. The following explanation, indifferent as it may be thought,
is the best I happen to have seen:--

"The bear with a tattered band represents the former strength and
abilities of Mr. Hogarth; the full pot of beer likewise shows that
he was in a land of plenty. The stump of a headless tree, with the
notches, and on it written 'Lie,' signifies Mr. Hogarth's former art,
and the many productions thereof, wherein he has excelled even nature
itself, and which of course must be but lies, flattery, and fallacy,
the painter's prerogative; and the stump of a tree only being left,
shows that there can be no more fruit expected from thence, but that
it only stands as a record of his former services. The butcher's dog
trampling on Mr. Churchill's Epistle alludes to the present state
of Mr. Hogarth, who is now reduced from the strength of a bear to a
blind butcher's dog, not able to distinguish, but degrading, his best
friends; or perhaps giving the public a hint to read that Epistle,
where his case is more fully laid before them. The next matter to be
explained is the subscription-box, and under it is a book said to
contain _A List of Subscribers to the North Briton_, as well as one
of _A New Way to Pay Old Debts_. Mr. Hogarth mentioned the _North
Briton_ to avoid the censure of the rabble in the street, who he knew
would neither pity nor relieve him; and as Mr. Churchill was reputed
to be the writer of that paper, it would seem to give a colour in
their eyes of its being intended against Mr. Churchill. Mr. Hogarth
meant only to show his necessity, and that a book entitled _A List of
Subscribers to the North Briton_ contained in fact a list of those
who should contribute to the support of Mr. Hogarth in old age. By
the book entitled _A New Way to Pay Old Debts_, he can only mean
this, that when a man is become disabled to get his livelihood and
much in debt, the only shift he has left is to go a-begging to his
creditors.

"There are likewise in this print some of his old tools, without any
hand to use them."

[165] This thought might possibly be suggested by one of Shakspeare's
witches:

        "Sleep shall neither night nor day
      Hang upon his pent-house lid,
      He shall live a man forbid," etc.

How admirable a contrast is formed by Robert Lloyd's description of
an opposite character!

      "Dull folly,--not the wanton wild,
      Imagination's younger child,
      Had taken lodgings in his face,
      As finding that a vacant place."


[166] "Little did the sportive satirist imagine that the power of
pleasing was so soon to cease in both! Hogarth died in four weeks
after the publication of this poem, and Churchill survived him but
nine days. In some lines which were printed in November 1764, the
compiler of these anecdotes took occasion to lament that

                    "'Scarce had the friendly tear,
      For Hogarth shed, escap'd the generous eye
      Of feeling pity, when again it flow'd
      For Churchill's fate. Ill can we bear the loss
      Of Fancy's twin-born offspring, close allied
      In energy of thought, though different paths
      They sought for fame!--Though jarring passions sway'd
      The living artists, let the funeral wreath
      Unite their memory!'"

      --_Nichols' Biographical Anecdotes of Hogarth._


[167] In Mr. Churchill's will was the following item:--

"I desire my dear friend John Wilkes, Esq., to collect and publish
my works, with the remarks and explanations he has prepared, and any
other he thinks proper to make."

Could Mr. Churchill really think it was possible that notes by Mr.
Wilkes, or any other man, would justify his malignant attack upon
Hogarth?

[168] What a satire upon himself! What an apology for Hogarth's print!

[169] This is a very singular acknowledgment: it is, I believe, the
first instance of a person feeling himself flattered at being told
that he had murdered an old man.

[170] He frequently engraved a ticket for one series of prints, and
presented it with another.

[171] See the engraved title-page to vol. ii.

[172] In the reduced copy I have ventured to abridge this title,
though the very ingenious baptisms of sundry modern prints would have
given ample countenance to the old inscription. For example: A girl
hugging a dog in her arms is, with great attention to analogy, called
"Nature;" and a woman with a large mallet in one hand, and a tenpenny
nail in the other, "Art."

A female with a consumptive curd-and-whey countenance, that would not
have got her a lover even in Otaheite, they have miscalled "Beauty;"
and a little gorged misshapen boy, with swollen cheeks, and a bow and
arrow, they kindly inform you is "Love."

A farmer's daughter with a basket on her arm, in which are two
pigeons quarrelling for a straw, and drawing it different ways, is
christened "Conjugal Peace;" and a very picturesque landscape, with a
crowd of figures in the background, baptized "Solitude!"

Innumerable other instances might be given; but these are sufficient
to prove, that in erroneous inscription Hogarth is not alone.

[173] This good gentleman was undoubtedly designed to place his hand
upon his heart; but Hogarth had either heard of some examples similar
to one which was lately seen at Dr. John Hunter's, or has, as in many
other instances, reversed the drawing.

[174] The Countess Spencer, who has dignified the arts by making
several very elegant drawings, has given a sanction to this baptism
in a print lately engraved by Bartolozzi.

[175] The pit was formerly the seat of the critics, and dread of
authors; our critics of the present day have _taken to_ the green
boxes.

[176] The father of Huggins was warden of the Fleet Prison, and in
that office guilty of extortion, cruelty, breach of trust, and many
other crimes; he accumulated a considerable fortune, and died at
ninety years of age. His son William was educated for holy orders,
and sent to Magdalen College, Oxford, where he took the degree of
M.A., but on the death of his elder brother gave up all thoughts
of entering into the church. In 1757 some flattering verses were
addressed to him on his version of Ariosto: they are preserved in
the _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. xxvii. p. 180; but, except by the
author and the person to whom they are written, were probably never
read through. A specimen of his translation from Dante, which was
published in the _British Magazine_ for 1760, exhibits an unequivocal
proof that Mr. Huggins was worthy of his encomiast. He died the 2d
of July 1761, and left to posterity a MS. tragedy, a MS. translation
of Dante, a MS. farce, and though last, not least in estimation--two
thousand pounds per annum.

[177] He was a respectable performer on the violin, some years
chapelmaster at Antwerp, and several seasons leader of the band at
Marybone Gardens. He published a collection of musical compositions,
to which was annexed a portrait of himself, characterized by three
lines from Milton:

      "Thou honour'dst verse, and verse must lend her wing
      To honour thee, the priest of Phœbus' quire,
      That tun'st her happiest lines in hymn or song."

He died in 1750, aged seventy years, and gives one additional name
to a catalogue I have somewhere seen of very old professors of
music, who, saith my author, "generally live unto a greater age than
persons in any other way of life, from their souls being so attuned
unto harmony, that they enjoy a perpetual peace of mind." It has
been observed, and I believe justly, that thinking is a great enemy
to longevity, and that, consequently, they who think least will be
likely to live longest. The quantity of thought necessary to make an
adept in this divine science must be determined by those who have
studied it.

[178] In thus bringing to shame the ignorant or prejudiced audience
who could be blind to his genius, he hath been right worthily
imitated by sundry great writers in this our day.

[179] I once saw the following MS. note in the marginal leaf of this
oratorio: "If the writer of this had his desserts,

      "Full soon would injur'd Judith slay him,
      Or pious Jael, Siser-a him."


[180] At a time when Doctor Shippen, I mean the astronomical Shippen,
was principal of Brazennose College, the musical professor died,
and the Doctor offered himself as a candidate for the place. To the
science he was a total stranger, but by strength of interest carried
the election, though opposed by a gentleman highly eminent for his
musical abilities.

In less than twelve moons the professor of astronomy died, and the
electors, ashamed of their former conduct, went in a body to the
musical gentleman they had before rejected, and offered him the
vacant astronomical chair. He was weak enough to refuse; because,
forsooth, he did not understand astronomy, and died without place,
pension, or university honour.

Even now these things are managed in much the same way. A nobleman
who had the privilege of appointing a chorister to Christ Church,
Cambridge, sent them one who was not only ignorant of music, but
croaked like an old raven, because the fellow had a vote for a
Huntingdonshire borough. This gave rise to the following epigram:--

      "A singing man, and cannot sing!
        From whence arose your patron's bounty?
      Give us a song!--Excuse me, sir,
        My voice is in another county."


[181] "A chief betokeneth a senatour, or honourable personage,
borrowed from the Greek, and is a word signifying a head; and as the
head is the chief part in a man, so the chief in the escocheon should
be a reward of such only, whose high merites have procured them chief
places, esteem, or love amongst men."--GUILLIM.

[182] "The bearing of clouds in armes (saith Upton) doth import some
excellencie."

[183] Originally printed _docter_, but altered.

[184] One of them, but I know not which, is said to be intended for
Doctor Pierce Dod, physician to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, who died
August 6, 1754. Another for Doctor Bamber, a celebrated anatomist,
physician, and accoucheur, to whose estate the present Gascoyne
family succeeded, and by whose surname two of them have been baptized.

[185] When very young, I was once in company with the Chevalier at
the house of a Doctor Cheyne Harte, in Shrewsbury, and I remember his
person having a strong resemblance to this print. I also recollect
that he carried his gold, silver, and copper coin in his coat pocket.
He had uncommon skill in his profession, but was ridiculously
ostentatious, and is said to have expended near a thousand guineas
in a set of gold instruments. At this species of foppery Hogarth has
well hinted, in the laced or Dresden ruffles with which he alone is
decorated. His portrait was painted at Rome by the Chevalier Riche.
Beneath it is the following inscription: "Joannes Taylor, Medicus in
Optica expertissimus, multisque in Academiis celeberrimis Socius."

[186] To this volume there is the longest title I remember to have
seen: it might serve for a table of contents; and containing a sort
of brief abstract of his adventures, I have inserted it:--

  "_The Life and Extraordinary History of Chevalier John Taylor_,
  Member of the most celebrated Academies, Universities, and Societies
  of the learned--Chevalier in several of the first courts of the
  world--illustrious (by patent) in the apartments of many of the
  greatest Princes,[187] Ophthalmiater Pontifical, Imperial, and
  Royal--to his late Majesty--to the Pontifical Court--to the Person
  of her Imperial Majesty--to the Kings of Poland, Denmark, Sweden,
  etc.--to the several Electors of the Holy Empire--to the Royal
  Infant Duke of Parma--to the Prince of Saxe-Gotha, Serenissime,
  brother to her Royal Highness the Princess Dowager of Wales--to the
  Prince Royal of Poland--to the late Prince of Orange--to the present
  princes of Bavaria, Modena, Lorraine, Brunswick, Anspach, Bareith,
  Liege, Salzbourg, Middlebourg, Hesse Cassel, Holstein, Zerbst,
  Georgia, etc.--Citizen of Rome, by a public act in the name of the
  senate and people--Fellow of that College of Physicians--Professor
  in Optics--Doctor in Medicine, and Doctor in Chirurgery, in several
  universities abroad; who has been on his travels upwards of thirty
  years, with little or no interruption, during which he has not only
  been several times in every town in these kingdoms, but in every
  kingdom, province, state, and city of the least consideration--in
  every court,[188] presented to every crowned head and sovereign
  prince in all Europe, without exception: containing the greatest
  variety of the most entertaining and interesting adventures, that,
  it is presumed, has ever yet been published in any country or in any
  language."

[187] When he was once enumerating the honours he had received
from the different princes of Europe, and the orders with which he
had been dignified by innumerable sovereigns, a gentleman present
remarked that he had not named the King of Prussia; and added, "I
suppose, sir, he never gave you any order?" "You are mistaken, sir,"
replied the Chevalier: "he gave me a very peremptory order to quit
his dominions."

[188] On his return from a tour on the Continent, he once met a plain
man, who, addressing him with great familiarity, was repulsed with
a cold formal frown,--and, "Sir, I really don't remember you." "Not
remember me! why, my goodness, Doctor! we both lodged on one floor in
Round Court." "Round Court,--Round Court,--Round Court?--Sir, I have
been in every court in Europe, but of such a court as Round Court I
have no recollection."

[189] _September 16, 1736._ "On Thursday Mrs. Mapp's plate of ten
guineas was run for at Epsom. A mare, called Mrs. Mapp, won the first
heat, when Mrs. Mapp gave the rider a guinea, and swore, if he won
the plate she would give him a hundred."

_September 23, 1736._ "Mrs. Mapp continues making extraordinary
cures: she has now set up an equipage, and on Sunday waited on her
Majesty."

_October 19, 1736, London Daily Post._ "Mrs. Mapp being present
at the acting of _The Wife's Relief_, concurred in the universal
applause of a crowded audience. This play was advertised by the
desire of Mrs. Mapp, the famous bone-setter from Epsom."

_October 21, 1736._ "On Saturday evening there was such a concourse
of people at the Theatre Royal in Lincoln's-Inn Fields to see the
famous Mrs. Mapp, that several ladies and gentlemen were obliged to
return for want of room. The confusion at going out was so great,
that several ladies and gentlemen had their pockets picked, and many
of the former lost their fans, etc. Yesterday she was elegantly
entertained by Doctor Ward, at his house in Pall Mall."

"On Saturday, and yesterday, Mrs. Mapp performed several operations
at the Grecian Coffeehouse, particularly one upon a niece of Sir Hans
Sloane,[190] to his great satisfaction, and her credit. The patient
had her shoulder-bone out for about nine years."

_December 22, 1737._ "Died last week, at her lodgings near Seven
Dials, the much talked of Mrs. Mapp, the bone-setter, so miserably
poor, that the parish was obliged to bury her."

[190] I have heard it suggested that this harlequin figure, received
as Mrs. Mapp, was really intended for Sir Hans Sloane.

[191] He was originally in partnership with his brother, a drysalter
in Thames Street. By a fire which broke out in an adjoining house,
their joint property was destroyed, and Mr. Ward escaped by
clambering over the tops of several houses in his shirt.

In the year 1717 he was returned member for Marlborough, but by
a vote of the House of Commons declared not duly elected. It is
imagined that he was in some manner connected with his brother John
Ward (immortalized by Mr Pope) in the South Sea Bubble, for he left
England rather abruptly; and during his residence abroad, is supposed
to have turned Roman Catholic.

It was during his exile that he acquired such a knowledge of medicine
and chemistry as was afterwards the means of raising him to a state
of affluence. About the year 1733 he began to practise physic, and
combated for some time the united efforts of argument, jealousy, and
ridicule, by each of which he was opposed. By some lucky cures, and
particularly one on a relation of Sir Joseph Jekyl, Master of the
Rolls, he triumphed over his enemies; was, by a vote of the House of
Commons, exempted from being visited by the censors of the college,
and called in to the assistance of George the Second, whose hand
he cured; and in lieu of a pecuniary compensation, was, at his own
request, permitted to ride in his gaudy and heavy equipage through
St. James's Park, an honour seldom granted to any but persons of
rank. Besides this, the King gave a commission to his nephew, the
late General Gansel.

He distributed medicine and advice to the poor gratis. There is as
bad a print as I have seen representing him thus employed. By such
conduct he acquired great popularity, and was, indeed, entitled to
great praise.

He died December 21, 1761, at a very advanced age, and left the
receipts for compounding his medicines to Mr. Page, member for
Chichester, who bestowed them on two charitable institutions, which
have derived considerable advantage from the profits attending their
sale.

In the _London Chronicle_ for February 27, 1762, is the following
intimation:--

  "A monument is going to be erected in Westminster Abbey, next to that
  of Mr. Dryden's, to the memory of Joshua Ward, of Whitehall, Esq., on
  which will be placed a fine bust of the deceased, that had been long
  in his possession."

[192] The veil which was then spread over this science has been
partly removed by the publication of Doctor Buchan's _Domestic
Medicine_,--a treatise which I have frequently heard reprobated by
gentlemen of the Faculty, for laying open to the world, in language
so perspicuous, those mysterious secrets which had been before
disguised in dog Latin: it has, however, gone through more editions
than any book in this language, except _Robinson Crusoe_ and the
_Pilgrim's Progress_.

[193] The poet, in this instance, laboureth under a mistake; for I
am informed by a gentleman learned in the law, that if a physician
neglecteth to receive his fees, and his patient recovereth, he hath
no legal claim, neither will an action lie; but if his patient dieth,
an action against the executors is good: the Court will admit the
claim, and the jury find a verdict, with full costs of suit.

This is very proper, and proveth that _law_ and _equity_ are the
same; and that if a physician _doth his business_, he can recover his
reward; but if he neglecteth, and _his patient doth not die_, why
should he have any remuneration?

[194] What caricature is in painting, burlesque is in writing; and in
the same manner the comic writer and painter correlate to each other.
But here I shall observe, that as in the former the painter seems to
have the advantage, so it is in the latter infinitely on the side of
the writer; for the monstrous is much easier to paint than describe,
and the ridiculous to describe than paint. And though perhaps this
latter species doth not in either science so strongly affect and
agitate the muscles as the other, yet it will be owned, I believe,
that a more rational and useful pleasure arises to us from it.

"He who should call the ingenious Hogarth a burlesque painter, would,
in my opinion, do him very little honour; for sure it is much easier,
much less the subject of admiration, to paint a man with a nose or
any other feature of a monstrous size, or to expose him in some
absurd or monstrous attitude, than to express the affections of men
on canvas. It has been thought a vast commendation of a painter to
say, his figures seem to breathe; but surely it is a much greater and
nobler applause, that they appear to think."

This is Fielding's opinion, and the _fiat_ of such a writer ought
to have great weight; for his characters and Hogarth's pictures are
drawn from the same source.

[195] I have adhered to Hogarth's orthography.

[196] She was suspected to have been concerned in the murder of Mr.
Nesbit in 1729, near Drury Lane, for which one Kelly, _alias_ Owen,
suffered death. The only ground of his conviction was a bloodied
razor, that was known to be his property, being found under the
murdered man's head. Kelly died protesting his innocence, and
solemnly asserted that he had lent the razor to a woman whose name
and habitation he did not know.

[197] It appeared on the trial that Mrs. Duncombe had only fifty-four
pounds in her box; and fifty-three pounds eleven shillings and
sixpence were found upon Malcolm.

[198] One part of her defence was, it must be acknowledged, rather
weak: she declared that seventeen pounds of the money found in her
hair was sent to her by her father; but on inquiry, it was proved
that he lived in a state of extreme and pitiable poverty in the city
of Dublin, where she was born.

[199] The crowd was so great, that a Mrs. Strangeways, who lived in
Fleet Street, near Serjeants' Inn, crossed the street from her own
house to Mrs. Coulthurst's, on the opposite side of the way, over the
heads and shoulders of the populace.

[200] This paper he sold for twenty pounds; and the substance of it
was printed in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1733. Peddington died
September 18, 1734.

[201] The late Mr. Barry, whose works are an honour to his age and
country, and would alone give celebrity and immortality to the
English school, in his picture of "Elysium," or the state of final
retribution, has introduced Sir Isaac Newton looking at the solar
system, which an angel is to him uncovering. This is one of the most
sublime and poetical thoughts I ever saw expressed upon canvas.

[202] That his conquests have in their consequences rendered the
people he subdued unhappy, must be admitted, and is to be lamented.
Though I am inclined to suspect that the narrations of Bartholomew
de las Casas, and some other writers, are greatly exaggerated, we
have indisputable evidence of such oppression, murder, and massacre,
as must make every reader shudder. If the same system is still
pursued,--and I fear it has been but little softened,--the evil will
correct itself; and who will not rejoice at the total extirpation
of these merciless tyrants, and emancipation of that unhappy race
whom they have so long enslaved? Let us not, from this, censure the
extension of commerce, or civilisation of the savage; for both these
great objects ultimately tend to make men wiser, better, and happier.
To the beardless philosopher, who adopts the fascinating visions
of Rousseau, is an advocate for the blessings of barbarism, and
contends for the superiority of the savage to the civilised animal,
I earnestly recommend the perusal of Mickle's _Introduction to the
Lusiad_. If the arguments adduced by that excellent writer--and, from
intimate personal knowledge, I venture to add, excellent man--will
not convince him, and he still languishes for pathless wilds, let him
retreat from civilised society to the frozen rocks of Kamtschatka, or
join the Aborigines of New Holland.

[203] "When he promised a new hemisphere, it was insisted upon
that no such hemisphere could exist; and when he had discovered
it, asserted that it had been known long before. The honour was
given to the Carthaginians; and, to prove they deserved it, a book
of Aristotle's was quoted, which Aristole never wrote. It was
further said, that one Martin Behem went from Nuremburg to the
Straits of Magellan, in 1460, with a patent from the Duchess of
Burgundy, who, as she was not alive at that time, could not issue
patents."--VOLTAIRE.

[204] Some authors have said from the port of Gomera, and dated his
departure on the 6th of September. This _momentous_ point must be
decided by those who study minute chronology; and we are so fortunate
as to live in the same age with a writer who can determine the day of
the month and day of the week when Adam was created:

"Adam created, Friday, October 28, 4004; died, 3034 before Christ,
aged 930."--Trusler's _Chronology_.

[205] Americus Vespucius, a merchant of Florence, had the honour
of giving his name to this new half of the globe, in which he did
not possess one acre of land; and pretended to be the first who
discovered the continent. Admitting it true that he first discovered
it, the glory is due to the man who had the penetration to see that
the voyage was practicable, and the courage to perform it. Columbus
made three voyages, as viceroy and admiral, five years before
Americus made one as a geographer; but Vespucius writing to his
friends at Florence that he had discovered a new world, they took his
word, and the citizens decreed that a grand illumination should be
made before the door of his house every three years, on the feast of
All Saints. Such are the accidents by which honours are attained. A
merchant gives his name to one half of the globe from happening to be
on board a fleet that in 1489 sailed along the coast of Brazil!

[206] This story has been told of Brunelleschi, who improved the
architecture of Florence many years before Columbus was born, and it
has been since related of many others. These ambulatory anecdotes are
transferred from one traveller to another, like the wishing-cap of
Fortunatus, that was made to fit every head on which it was placed.

[207] "There is scarce an Egyptian, Greek, or Roman deity, but hath a
twisted serpent, twisted cornucopia, or some symbol winding in this
manner, to accompany it."--_Preface to Analysis of Beauty_, p. 18.

[208] Some of these were in wood, and some in copper. The painter,
when once asked why he did not answer them, replied, that "he had not
seen one which promised to live so long as it would take to engrave
a plate." A few of these poignant satires I have seen; but they have
now attained a black letter value, and are seldom to be found except
in the cabinets of the curious. A series of six or eight, beginning
with one entitled "The Butifyer, or a Touch on the Times," Plate I.,
were designed and engraved by an artist of deserved celebrity.[209]
With a frankness for which he is remarkable, and which does him
honour, he once acknowledged to me, that being a very young man, he
was deceived by the loud clamours of certain veterans, at that time
leaders in the arts; but had he seen Hogarth's merit then as he does
now, nothing should have induced him to attempt the ridicule of such
talents.

[209] Mr. Paul Sandby.

[210] This alludes to the time Hogarth thought would elapse before
Stuart's plan was completed; and the prediction was amply verified,
for the second volume of _Athens_ was not published until 1789 or 90,
though the title-page is dated 1787.

[211] Stuart being once questioned by Frank Hayman upon his right
to assume both these titles, said that "Poetry was his wife, and
Architecture his mistress." "You may call them so," said Hayman, "but
I never heard that you had living issue by either."

[212] The mortification Hogarth naturally felt at seeing more money
given for a drawing of an ancient pig-sty than he received for his
most capital work, was unquestionably the strongest inducement.

[213] A description of this print was published in _The Beauties of
all the Magazines_ for 1761; part of it I have subjoined:--

  "Over the first row is written the title Episcopal. The first capital
  discovers only a forked nose, lips, and one eye; the rest of the
  face is eclipsed by the wig's protuberance. The next three etchings
  are only the hinder parts of heads; by these Mr. Hogarth satirizes
  the present age for their immoralities, which are so notorious, that
  three-fifths of the religious orders turn their backs upon us, not
  being able to behold such wickedness.

  "The last visage in the line is marked with true pedantic contempt;
  the wig's fore-top is like the forked hill of Parnassus, and there is
  a roll round the forehead, like a MS. scroll; the eyelids are almost
  closed, which denotes _the wise man's wink_, or that he can see the
  world with half an eye. The muscles of the countenance are curled up
  into disdain, and he seems to say, 'I despise ye, ye illiterati!'

  "The immense quantity of grizzle which is wove into the wigs carries
  a twofold design--for reverence and for warmth. The make of these
  canonicals evinces the care this order take of themselves, for the
  sake of those committed to their trust; and the profusion of curls or
  friz in each denotes the wearer must be most learned, because, as the
  country folk say, Why should they put a double coat of thatch upon a
  barn, without there was a greater proportion than ordinary of grain
  housed therein?

  "The next row is inscribed Aldermanic. The first wig has two ends,
  exactly like the dropsical legs of some over-gorged glutton; and the
  three-quartered face indicates Plenty, Porter, and Politics. On the
  brow, domestical significancy is seated; a look necessary to each
  master who dozes in his arm-chair on the Sunday evening, while his
  lady reads prayers to the rest of the family. It is a countenance
  which carries dignity with it even at the upper end of a table at a
  turtle-eating.

  "The second has one lock dependent like a sheep's bushy tail. This
  man could make speeches, knew the nature of debentures, and was much
  harassed by cent. per cent. commerce. Many are the sleepless nights
  he has passed in scheming how to fix, if for only half a day, the
  fluctuating chances of 'Change Alley.

  "The third wig is, as the sailors say, 'all aback.' By the swelling
  of the full bottom, we have an idea of Magna Charta consequence, and
  guess that the wearer would say something--if he could but see it.

  "The next is parted triangular-wise, to fall each side the shoulders.
  This design was originally taken from a nutting-stick. Thus one of
  our finest capitals was delineated from a square tile, a weed, and a
  basket.

  "With all modest conjecture we presume, from our intense application
  to mathematics, that the semicircular sweep at the end of the last
  full bottom signifies a gold chain. But as we are Englishmen, and
  will have nothing to do with chains, we shall hasten to the wigs and
  chins in the third, entitled 'Lexonical.'

  "Great men are always celebrated for great things: Cicero for his
  wart; Ovid for a nose almost equal to Slawkenbergius'; and this
  portrait seems to be ushered into notice by the curvature of the
  chin. How venerably elegant do these Lexonicals appear! Here is
  indeed law at full length. Special pleadings in the fore-top;
  declarations, replications, rejoinders, issues, and demurrers in
  every buckle. The knotty points of practice in the intricacies of the
  twisted tail, and the depth of the whole wig, emblematically express
  the length of a Chancery suit, while the black coif behind looks like
  a blister."

[214] A term peculiarly appropriated to the Court of Common Pleas.

[215] To the honour of Sir John Fielding, he once attempted to
prevent its being performed, but the attempt failed. Since that time
it has been so completely disfigured by Mr. Charles Bannister being
disguised in the character of Polly, and Macheath personated by Mrs.
Cargill, etc. etc. etc., that no person who had the least pretensions
to taste would be seen at such a drama in masquerade.

[216] "_Johnson._ I am of opinion that more influence has been
ascribed to the _Beggars' Opera_ than it in reality ever had; for I
do not believe that any man was ever made a rogue by being present at
its representation. At the same time, I do not deny that it may have
some influence, by making the character of a rogue familiar, and in
some degree pleasing." Then collecting himself, as it were to give a
heavy stroke; "There is in it such a labefaction of all principles,
as may be injurious to morality."--Boswell's _Johnson_.

[217] A very eminent physician, whose discernment is as acute and
penetrating in judging of the human character as it is in his own
profession, remarked once at a club where I was, that a lively young
man would hardly resist a solicitation from his mistress to go upon
the highway, immediately after being present at the _Beggars' Opera_.
I have been told of an ingenious observation by Mr. Gibbon, that "the
_Beggars' Opera_ may perhaps have sometimes increased the number of
highwaymen, but that it has had a beneficial effect in refining that
class of men, making them less ferocious, more polite, in short,
more like gentlemen." Upon this Mr. Courtenay said, that Gay was the
Orpheus of highwaymen.--Note upon Boswell's _Johnson_, vol. i. p. 488.

[218] Glory be to great Apollo! At that auspicious period his lyre
should have been new strung, and exalted in Britain; for her nobles
were as much interested in the disputes between a trio of Italian
singers, as they now are in those on which depends the salvation of
the empire.

[219] The Ridiculous Travellers returned to Italy.

An Italian I was once talking with upon this crotchet contest,
concluded an harangue, calculated to throw Gay's talents and taste
into ridicule, with "Saire, this simple signor did tri to pelt mine
countrymen out of England with _Lumps of Pudding_," another of the
_Beggars' Opera_ tunes.

[220] Doctor Arbuthnot, describing the declining state of operas (in
a letter printed in the _Daily Journal_), says, "I take the _Beggars'
Opera_ to be the touchstone to try British taste on, and it has
accordingly proved effectual in discovering our true inclinations,
which, how artfully soever they may be disguised by a childish
fondness for Italian poetry and music, in preference to our own,
will, in one way or other, start up and disclose themselves."

[221] In the _London Chronicle_ for April 6, 1762, is the following
paragraph: "On Friday last, at the sale of the late Mr. Rich's
pictures, jewels, etc., a clock by Graham was bought by the Right
Honourable the Earl of Chesterfield for £42; and a scene in the
_Beggars' Opera_, where Lucy and Polly are pleading for Macheath,
painted by Hogarth, was sold for £32, 14s. to his Grace the Duke of
Leeds. The money arising from the whole sale amounted to £683, 14s."

[222] The name of that right cunning workman, Filch, is not
introduced in the description of the outline; by an edition of the
opera, published in 1729, I find he was personated by a Mr. Clark.

[223] The part of this hero of the highway being originally cast for
Quin, intimates the style in which it was thought characteristic to
play it. Walker was praised for performing it with dignity!

[224] In this are several portraits; one of Sir Francis Page of
severe memory, with a halter round his neck--

      "Hard words or hanging, if your judge be Page."


[225] In this, as in almost all his dedications, the poet is very
lavish of his panegyric. Thus does it begin:--

"MAY IT PLEASE YOUR GRACE,--The favour which heroic plays have lately
found upon our theatres, has been wholly derived to them from the
countenance and approbation they have received at Court. The most
eminent persons for wit and honour in the royal circle having so far
owned them, that they have judged no way so fit as verse to entertain
a noble audience or to express a noble passion. And among the rest
which have been written in this kind, they have been so indulgent to
this poem, as to allow it no inconsiderable place. Since, therefore,
to the Court I owe its fortune on the stage; so, being now more
publicly exposed in print, I humbly recommend it to your Grace's
protection, who by all knowing persons is esteemed a principal
ornament of the Court. But though the rank which you hold in the
royal family might direct the eyes of a poet to you, yet your beauty
and goodness detain and fix them," etc. etc. etc.

In the fourth act is the line about which Dryden has been so
unmercifully laughed at, and which I have invariably seen quoted:

      "I follow fate, which does too fast pursue."

This might be, and has been defended, by supposing that the race was
run in a circle; but the line in a song, warbled by an Indian woman
at the side of a fountain, is as follows:--

      "Ah, fading joy, how quickly art thou past!
        Yet we thy ruin haste:
      As if the cares of human life were few,
        We seek out new,
      And follow fate, which would too fast pursue," etc.


[226] The following was given to me by a collector of dramatic
curiosities, who in the course of a long life has raked together
as many quires of ancient and modern play-bills as would cover
every dead wall in the metropolis, and I am assured that of the
above-mentioned handbill it is

  A TRUE COPY.

  "Connection of the _Indian Emperor_ to the _Indian Queen_.

  "The conclusion of the _Indian Emperor_ (part of which poem was
  written by me) left little matter for another story to be built
  on, there remaining but two of the considerable characters alive,
  viz. Montezuma and Orazia: thereupon the author of this thought it
  necessary to produce new persons from the old ones; and considering
  the late Indian Queen, before she loved Montezuma, lived in
  clandestine marriage with her great general Traxalla, from those
  two he has raised a son and two daughters, supposed to be grown up
  to man and woman's estate, and their mother Orazia (for whom there
  was no further use in the story) lately dead. So that you are to
  imagine about twenty years elapsed since the coronation of Montezuma,
  who in the truth of the history was a great and glorious prince,
  and in whose time happened the discovery and invasion of Mexico
  by the Spaniards (under the command of Cortez), who joined with
  the Traxallan Indians, the inveterate enemies of Montezuma, wholly
  subverted that flourishing empire, the conquest of which is the
  subject of this dramatic poem.

  "I have neither wholly followed the story, nor varied from it, and,
  as near as I could, have traced the native simplicity and ignorance
  of the Indians in relation to European customs: the shipping, armour,
  horses, swords, and guns of the Spaniards, being as new to them as
  their habits and manners were to the Christians.

  "The difference of their religion from ours, I have taken from the
  story itself; and that which you find of it in the first and fifth
  acts, touching the sufferings and constancy of Montezuma in his
  opinions, I have only illustrated, not altered from those who have
  written of it.

    "JOHN DRYDEN."


[227] Some eighteen or twenty years ago, a person of quality in
the neighbourhood of Lichfield, dragged together a shoal of little
holiday fry, to give an infantine exhibition of a new sentimental
comedy.

A spacious Gothic gallery made an admirable theatre, and for
scenery--there was an excellent substitute, in many a mouldering
breadth of ancient tapestry, which represented in horrid guise the
direful tale of Herod's Cruelty. By the hour announced for the
theatrical _début_ of these unfledged actors, the house overflowed.
Though the circumstance is not recorded by either Boswell or Sir
John Hawkins, a late celebrated moralist was one of the audience.
To the beginning of the fifth act he stayed with more patience than
could have been expected; at this time he exhibited evident marks of
_ennui_ and lassitude--yawned three times, and attempted to make his
exit. The lady of the mansion cut off his retreat with, "'Pon honour,
Doctor Johnson, you must not go! How can you think of leaving the
theatre when my Dicky is in so interesting a situation?" "Madam,"
replied the sage, "with the plot of your play I was unacquainted, and
have waited thus long in the hope that it would turn out a tragedy;
I might then have seen how naturally little Dicky and his dramatic
associates would have died! I now perceive that the author will
neither introduce aconite nor a bare bodkin, and have no prospect of
a pathetic termination but in Herod or some of his tapestry hang-dogs
starting into life. Should these murderous ruffians once step upon
the stage, all your pretty innocents will most assuredly be put to
the sword!"

[228] In the third volume of this work, which was compiled from
Hogarth's manuscripts, and published some time after the two which
precede it, there is a catalogue of all his prints, and the editor
has endeavoured to add a more perfect list of the numerous variations
than has been hitherto given to the public.

[229] In a marginal leaf of the late Doctor Lort's _Trusler_, I
found a piece of a newspaper with the following remarks (neither
the date nor title of the paper were inserted): "Whether the late
extraordinary sums paid for the works of Hogarth at Mr. Gulston's
sale are to be regarded on the whole as proofs of our artist's merit,
or of extravagance in our modern collectors, I shall not venture to
determine; and yet the following statement of the rapid advance in
the value of prints from this celebrated master may furnish notices
to assist the judgment of your readers:--

"In 1780, Mr. Walpole obliged the world with a fourth volume of his
_Anecdotes of Painting in England_. In this entertaining performance
was comprised the first catalogue of Hogarth's pieces. I say the
first, for every preceding enumeration of them was defective in
the extreme. This was succeeded in 1781 by a publication from the
ingenious and accurate Mr. Nichols, who considerably enlarged and
amended the list made by his predecessor.

"In the same year, Mr. Bailley's collection, which would now be
deemed an imperfect one, was sold at Christie's for £61, 10s. In 1782
it was resold, with some additions, at Barford's for £105.

"In 1785, the late Mr. Henderson of Covent Garden Theatre disposed of
his collection, by far less complete than either of the foregoing,
for £126.

"In 1786, Mr. Gulston's was sold piecemeal by Mr. Greenwood; and
though the condition of all such articles in it, as real taste and
common sense would style the most valuable, were very indifferent,
the whole series is reported to have brought in upwards of £600.[230]
At this auction, the plates now to be particularized were knocked
down at the following rates, though taken altogether they were scarce
worth the money paid for the cheapest of them:--

  Two engravings on plate                             £4  14  6
  Three ditto                                          3  10  0
  Small arms of the Duchess of Kendal                  4   0  0
  Large ditto                                          6   0  0
  Arms of Lord Aylmer                                  7  10  0
  Arms unknown, with women as terms                    6  10  0
  Two ditto                                            1  11  6
  Impression from a tankard                           10   0  0
  Hogarth's shop-bill and another                     11  15  0
  Rape of the Lock; impression from a gold snuff-box
    presented to Mr. Pope                             33   0  0
  Scene of Evening, without the girl                  40   8  6

"Should the celebrity of the delightful mock heroic poem, or the
rareness of an imperfect play tending to show that a complete design
is not always to be hit at once even by a Hogarth, furnish some
apology for the purchase of the two last articles, what excuse can be
invented for the collectors who bought the preceding trash on terms
so ridiculously high? Of all the trifling works of art, coats of
arms must be reckoned the most contemptible. These early productions
of our author on silver tea-tables, mugs, and waiters, have no sort
of merit to recommend them, nor were ever meant to be impressed on
paper (except as in momentary satisfaction to the engraver); for
being there reversed, like the prayers of witches, they must be read
backwards. Besides, what taste or genius can be manifested in the
disposition of a cat's whiskers or a fox's tail; in the emblazonry of
a black swan with two necks, or a blue boar with gilded tail? What
abilities are requisite for the expansion of an old woman's furred
cloak (very pompously denominated a mantle) at the back of a shield,
or for inscribing some bright sentence or wretched pun (yclep'd a
motto) in Gothic Latin on a ribbon fantastically waved? For the
design in which nature and manners are displayed, no praise can be
too exalted; but as for his heraldry,--his representation of birds
and beasts that never had existence,--

      "A dragon, and a finless fish,
      A clip-wing'd griffin, and a molten raven,
      And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff,"--

these can never be allowed to contribute a single leaf to the chaplet
he has so long and so deservedly worn.

"I have dwelt the more on these things, because I am assured there
are print-dealers now rummaging the books of our oldest engravers,
in the hope that a still greater number of useless and insignificant
particulars consisting of arms, etc., imputable to Hogarth, will
be found; nor are their hopes less sanguine that the madness of
collectors will be confirmed instead of cured by the examples hung
out at the late auction in Leicester Fields.

"Let me hope, however, that for the future every sensible collector
will think his assemblage of Hogarth's prints sufficiently complete,
without the foolish adjuncts already described and reprobated. For
the authenticity of these trifles being obvious to no kind of proof,
they principally tend to expose their purchasers to the frauds of
designing people, who will laugh at their credulity while they pocket
their cash."

[230] A short time before this, the writer of these volumes had the
honour of furnishing his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales with a
set of Hogarth's works. They consisted of remarkably fine impressions
from his most valuable plates, many of the variations, and some which
were deemed scarce (though not one of either the large or small coat
of arms). For the two volumes he charged and received £84.

[231] See the manner of disgracing the most serious subjects in many
celebrated old pictures, by introducing low, absurd, and obscure, and
often profane, circumstances into them.

[232]

      "What shall withstand old Time's devouring hand?
      Where's Troy? and where's the Maypole in the Strand?"


[233] I may be told that this is a mistake, and that it was either to
Pope or Swift. It was the fate of Arbuthnot to twine laurel for the
brows of his friends. I know it was a partnership account, but surely
the Doctor was first in the firm.

[234] See the introduction to the _Memoirs of Scriblerus_.

[235] Should any Lord, Knight, Esquire, or spirited Bookseller,
choose to purchase the whole copy, I am ready to treat with him upon
proper terms.

[236] The writer of a modern book of travels, relating the
particulars of his being cast away, thus concludeth: "After having
walked eleven hours without tracing the print of a human foot, to
my great comfort and delight I saw a man hanging upon a gibbet:
my pleasure at this cheering prospect was inexpressible, for it
convinced me that I was in a civilised country!"



       *       *       *       *       *



  _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

[Illustration]

=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.

  *** _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._


[Illustration]

=Anacreon.= Illustrated by the Exquisite Designs of GIRODET.
Translated by THOMAS MOORE. Bound in vellum cloth and Etruscan gold,
12_s._ 6_d._

  *** _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.

[Illustration]

=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._

  *** _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
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  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
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  sternest countenance. As bits of fun they are_ IMMENSE!


=Artemus Ward's Letters to "Punch,"= Among the Witches, and other
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1_s._; or, 16mo, bound in cloth extra, 2_s._

  *** _The volume contains, in addition, some quaint and humorous
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=Artemus Ward among the Fenians:= with the Showman's Experiences of
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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._


[Illustration]

=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._

  *** _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._


[Illustration]

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._

  *** _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
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  *** _This work gives practical methods for testing the quality of
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=Booksellers, A History of.= A Work giving full Accounts of the
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of the special class of Literature dealt in by each. Crown 8vo,
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Illustrations, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._

  "In these days, ten ordinary Histories of Kings and Courtiers
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=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
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=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,
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=Bret Harte's Lothaw=; or, The Adventures of a Young Gentleman in
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=Bret Harte's East and West.= Fcap. 8vo, illustrated cover, 1_s._


=Bret Harte's Stories of the Sierras=, and other Sketches. With a
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NEW EDITIONS OF SIR DAVID BREWSTER'S WORKS.


=Brewster's More Worlds than One=, the Creed of the Philosopher and
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=Brewster's Martyrs of Science=: Galileo, Tycho Brahe, Kepler. Crown
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=Brewster's The Kaleidoscope Practically Described.= Crown 8vo, with
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  *** _This was the great philosopher's last contribution to
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=Bright's (Rt. Hon. J., M.P.) Speeches= on Public Affairs of the last
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  *** _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
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  *** _Admirers of genuine English wit and humour will be delighted
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  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 SIEBE. 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
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=Clerical Anecdotes and Pulpit Eccentricities.= An entirely New
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cloth neat, 1_s._ 10_d._


=The Country of the Dwarfs.= By PAUL DU CHAILLU. A Book of Startling
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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
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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
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  half-century. The work forms a "Comic History of England" for
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THE BEST GUIDE TO HERALDRY.

[Illustration]

=Cussans' Handbook of Heraldry=; with Instructions for Tracing
Pedigrees and Deciphering Ancient MSS.; also, Rules for the
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with 360 Plates and Woodcuts. Cr. 8vo, cloth extra, gilt and
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VERY IMPORTANT COUNTY HISTORY.

[Illustration]

=Cussans' History of Hertfordshire.= A County History, got up in
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class. Illustrated with full-page Plates on Copper and Stone, and a
profusion of small Woodcuts. Parts I. to VI. are now ready, price
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  *** _An entirely new History of this important County, great
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UNIFORM WITH THE "CHARLES DICKENS EDITION."

[Illustration]

=Dickens: The Story of his Life.= By THEODORE TAYLOR, Author of the
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Also Published:

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[Illustration]

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A few copies of the FRENCH ORIGINAL are still on sale, bound
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THE STANDARD WORK ON THE SUBJECT.

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[Illustration]

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FLAGELLATION AND THE FLAGELLANTS.

[Illustration]

=A History of the Rod= in all Countries, from the Earliest Period
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=The Finish to Life in and out of London=; or, The Final Adventures
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Raree Showman these Five-and-Twenty Years.

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[Illustration: THE PROFESSOR'S LEETLE MUSIC LESSON.]


A SECOND SERIES IS NOW READY, CALLED

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A COMPANION TO ALL FRENCH DICTIONARIES.

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A DICTIONARY OF

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=Fun for the Million=: A Gathering of Choice Wit and Humour, Good
Things, and Sublime Nonsense, by DICKENS, JERROLD, SAM SLICK, CHAS.
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[Illustration]


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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._

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RUSKIN AND CRUIKSHANK.

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=Gesta Romanorum=; or, Entertaining Stories, invented by the Monks as
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=Gladstone's (Rt. Hon. W. E.) Speeches= on Great Questions of the Day
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=Golden Treasury of Thought.= The Best Encyclopædia of Quotations and
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=Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.= 1785. A genuine
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=Hall's (Mrs. S. C.) Sketches of Irish Character.= With numerous
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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]


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THE MOST 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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[Illustration]

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=Literary Scraps.= A Folio Scrap-Book of 340 columns, with guards,
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considerably enlarged. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt, 5_s._


[Illustration]

=Longfellow's Prose Works=, Complete, including his Stories
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Illustrations, drawn by VALENTINE BROMLEY, and beautifully engraved,
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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 Jumping Frog=, and other Humorous Sketches. Fcap. 8vo,
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=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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=Mayhew's London Characters:= Illustrations of the Humour, Pathos,
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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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[Illustration]

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By the same Author.

=Modern Babylon=, and other Poems. Small crown 8vo, cloth extra,
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[Illustration]

=The Pursuivant of Arms=; or, Heraldry founded upon Facts. A Popular
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Somerset Herald. To which are added, Essays on the BADGES OF THE
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PICCADILLY ANNUAL FOR 1874.

[Illustration]

=The Knowing Ones at Home.= Stories of their Doings at a Local
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FOR GOLD AND SILVERSMITHS.

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"AN AWFULLY JOLLY BOOK FOR PARTIES."

[Illustration]

=Puniana:= Thoughts Wise and Otherwise. By the Hon. HUGH ROWLEY. Best
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By the same Author.

=A Second Series of Puniana:= Containing nearly 100 beautifully
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=Remarkable Claimants,= Ancient and Modern. Being the Histories of
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GUSTAVE DORÉ'S DESIGNS.

[Illustration]

=The Works of Rabelais.= Faithfully translated from the French, with
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UNIFORM WITH "WONDERFUL CHARACTERS."

=Remarkable Trials and Notorious Characters.= From "Half-Hanged
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=Rogues and Vagabonds of the Race-Course.= Full Explanations how they
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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

=The Secret Out=; or, One Thousand Tricks with Cards, and other
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=Shaving Them=; or, The Adventures of Three Yankees. By TITUS A.
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=Shelley's Early Life.= From Original Sources. With Curious
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  pamphlets Shelley and his wife threw from the balcony of a window
  in Sackville Street, as the best means of publishing the poet's
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THE POCKET SHELLEY.

[Illustration: SHELLEY, FROM THE GODWIN SKETCH.]

=Shelley's Poetical Works.= Now First Reprinted from the Author's
Original Editions. In Two Series, the FIRST containing "Queen Mab"
and the Early Poems; the SECOND, "Laon and Cythna," "The Cenci," and
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_The Third Series, completing the Work, will shortly be ready._


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  *** _This work has for many years been out of print, and very
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=Signboards=: Their History. With Anecdotes of Famous Taverns and
Remarkable Characters. By JACOB LARWOOD and JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN.
SEVENTH EDITION. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 580 pp., 7_s._ 6_d._

[Illustration: BULL AND MOUTH.]

  "It is not fair on the part of a reviewer to pick out the plums
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  little but skim-milk remaining; but, even if we were ever so
  maliciously inclined, we could not in the present instance
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  *** _Nearly 100 most curious illustrations on wood are given,
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CHARLES DICKENS' EARLY SKETCHES.

=Sketches of Young Couples=, Young Ladies and Young Gentlemen. By
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(H. K. BROWNE). A New Edition, crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 4_s._ 6_d._

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[Illustration]

=The Slang Dictionary=: Etymological, Historical, and Anecdotal. An
ENTIRELY NEW EDITION, revised throughout, and considerably Enlarged,
containing upwards of a thousand more words than the last edition.
Crown 8vo, with Curious Illustrations, cloth extra, 6_s._ 6_d._

  "Valuable as a work of reference."--_Saturday Review._


A KEEPSAKE FOR SMOKERS.

=The Smoker's Text-Book.= By J. HAMER, F.R.S.L. Exquisitely printed
from "silver-faced" type, cloth, very neat, gilt edges, 2_s._ 6_d._,
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  Amongst the writers laid under contribution are Bulwer, Kingsley,
  Charles Lamb, Thackeray, Cowper, and Byron."--_The Field._


WEST-END LIFE AND DOINGS.

[Illustration]

=The Story of the London Parks.= By JACOB LARWOOD. With numerous
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cloth extra, gilt, 7_s._ 6_d._

  *** _A most interesting work, giving a complete History of these
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ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE'S WORKS.

[Illustration]

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=Swinburne's Bothwell.= A New Poem.

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WILLIAM COMBE'S BEST WORK.

=Dr. Syntax's Three Tours.= WITH THE WHOLE OF ROWLANDSON'S VERY DROLL
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS, IN COLOURS, AFTER THE ORIGINAL DRAWINGS.
Comprising the well-known TOURS--

  1. IN SEARCH OF THE PICTURESQUE.
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The Three Series Complete and Unabridged, with a Life of the Author
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  *** _One of the most amusing and laughable books ever published._

A SMALLER EDITION, with Eight Coloured Plates, the text complete,
price 3_s._ 6_d._


[Illustration: THEODORE HOOK'S HOUSE, NEAR PUTNEY.]

=Theodore Hook's Ramsbottom Papers.= The whole 29 Letters, complete
and unabridged, precisely as they left the pen of their genial and
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=Taylor's History of Playing Cards.= With Sixty curious
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[Illustration]

  *** _Ancient and Modern Games, Conjuring, Fortune-Telling,
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[Illustration]

=Thackerayana.= Notes and Anecdotes illustrative of Scenes and
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[Illustration: THE SUBSCRIPTION ROOM AT BROOKES'S.]

=Timbs' Clubs and Club Life in London.= With ANECDOTES of its FAMOUS
COFFEE HOUSES, HOSTELRIES, and TAVERNS. By JOHN TIMBS, F.S.A. New
Edition, with NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS, drawn expressly. Crown 8vo,
cloth extra, 600 pages, 7_s._ 6_d._

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  anecdote._


=Timbs' English Eccentrics and Eccentricities.= Stories of Wealth
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UNIFORM WITH "THE TURF, CHASE, AND ROAD."

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EARDLEY WILMOT, Bart. A New and Revised Edition, with steel-plate
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=Vers de Société.= An entirely New Selection, fuller and better than
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=Victor Hugo's Les Misérables: Fantine.= Now first published in an
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_The other Stories (each complete in itself) will follow._


=Vyner's Notitia Venatica=: A Treatise on Fox-Hunting, the General
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price 9_s._

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[Illustration]

=Wonderful Characters=: Memoirs and Anecdotes of Remarkable and
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WILSON and JAMES CAULFIELD. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Sixty-one
full-page Engravings of Extraordinary Persons, 7_s._ 6_d._

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  stories concerning them._


=Wright's (Andrew) Court-Hand Restored=; or, Student's Assistant
in Reading Old Deeds, Charters, Records, &c. Half Morocco, a New
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=Wright's History of Caricature and the Grotesque= in Art, in
Literature, Sculpture, and Painting, from the Earliest Times to the
Present Day. By THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq., F.S.A. Profusely illustrated by
FAIRHOLT. Small 4to, cloth extra gilt, red edges, 21_s._


[Illustration]

=Wright's Caricature History of the Georges= (House of Hanover). A
very Entertaining Book of 640 pages, with 400 Pictures, Caricatures,
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  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=.

  A superscript is denoted by ^; for example ESQ^R.

  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.

  To avoid duplication, the page numbering in the publisher's Book
  Catalog at the back of the book has a suffix C added, so that for
  example page [23] in the Catalog is denoted as [23C].

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

  Footnotes [155], [187], [188], [190], [209] and [230] are referenced
  from the prior Footnotes and not from the text itself.

  For consistency and to follow the intent of the publisher, the Plate
  illustrations have been moved to the beginning of the section
  describing them. In most cases this was only one or two paragraphs
  earlier than the original book layout.

  Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
  and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. For example,
  after-thought, afterthought; sign-post, signpost; independency; caldron;
  embosomed; dulness.

  In the illustration captions for the six "Marriage à la mode" Plates,
      'MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE' has been replaced by 'MARRIAGE A LA MODE'.
  Pg 87 Footnote [57], 'sooner than  hey' replaced by 'sooner than they'.
  Pg 88 Footnote [58], 'being desious' replaced by 'being desirous'.
  Pg 123, 'handsome ackowledgment' replaced by 'handsome acknowledgment'.
  Pg 130, 'luscious cates' replaced by 'luscious cakes'.
  Pg 240, 'published in Septemper' replaced by 'published in September'.
  Pg 255 Footnote [179], 'had his deserts' replaced by 'had his desserts'.
  Pg 262, 'sinster side is Doctor' replaced by 'sinister side is Doctor'.
  Pg 268, 'as a subscripton-ticket' replaced by 'as a subscription-ticket'.
  Pg 280, 'to be permament' replaced by 'to be permanent'.
  Pg 284, 'similiar spirit' replaced by 'similar spirit'.
  Pg 301, 'does not not need defense' replaced by 'does not need defense'.

  Catalog of Books:
  Pg 15C, 'very beau-ful' replaced by 'very beautiful'.
  Pg 43C, 'booh is a mine' replaced by 'book is a mine'.





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