Chapter VII: Part 7

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

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

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

"ADAM WALKER."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"TO THE LOVERS OF VIRTU.

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

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

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

THE BILL.

"_Monsieur_ VARNISH _to_ BENJAMIN BISTER, _debtor_.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"BRITOPHIL.

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

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

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

"TO THE INGENIOUS READER. R. H.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A gentleman of merit, well educated and properly qualified by seven of the best masters that ever trod on English ground, teaches the above minuets to noblemen and real ladies only, for the sum of five guineas, paid down, with all the excelled graces of the head, body, arms, wrists, hands, fingers, toes, sinks, risings, bounds, rebounds, twirls, twists, fourfold mercuries, coupees, borees, flourishes, demi-corpus, curtseys _à-la-mode_, hat on, off, giving hands and feet, in an advanced octagon adorned style, and divided into one, two, three, or four steps exact to time or bars; introducing at the same moment the _à-la-mode_ form, Chassa's springs, five and nine orders of the graces, and annexed with the rigadoon, Louvre, cotillion, and ancient and modern hornpipe steps and elegant country-dance positions.--The said gentleman is no common dancing-master, has some character to lose; _therefore_ ladies of a common capacity may soon attain to dance equal to the best French or Italian dancer in this kingdom, only for five guineas, on applying to Number 79 in the Haymarket, between ten and eleven in the morning, and four and six in the afternoon, and they will be seen by the aforesaid _gentleman_ himself."

In his Analysis, Mr. Hogarth thus writeth:--

"The minuet is allowed by dancing-masters themselves to be the perfection of all dancing. I once heard an eminent dancing-master say, that the minuet had been the study of his whole life, and that he had been indefatigable in the pursuit of its beauties, yet at last could only say with Socrates, _he knew nothing_; adding, that I was happy in my profession as a painter, in that some bounds might be set to the study of it."

[22] Mr. Wilkes informs us that this subject was not thought of until _after_ the publication of Marriage à la Mode. _In_ CHRONOLOGY, _the Chamberlain is not so accurate as Doctor Trusler!_

[23] Mr. Townley, under the signature of a connoisseur, wrote the following lines to Mr. Hogarth on his _Analysis of Beauty_:--

"How could you dare, advent'rous man,
To execute so bold a plan,
Or such unheard of truths advance?
At once so rashly to oppose
Those fierce, outrageous, hardy foes,
_Fraud_, _Prejudice_, and _Ignorance_!

"To their despotic, cruel sway,
Fair Science long has been a prey,
All _modern art_ they trampled down;
The rising genius they deprest,
The British taste they turned to jest,
And damn'd at once--because our own.

"The slavish principle _I_ caught,
The southern land of merit sought,
And learn'd to think, to see, to say
Eager I ran through every town,
Penn'd every observation down,
And gather'd judgment by the way.

"On foreign tales and terms of art,
On scraps of French, got well by heart,
And _learned guides_, was my reliance;
With light and shade my head I fill,
The _style_ of schools was all my skill.
_The painter's name_ was all my science.

"Thus deeply tutor'd, I return'd,
And o'er my tasteless country mourn'd;
I pitied first, then laugh'd and sneer'd;
Then curs'd the crude unfinish'd tints,
The statues, busto's, vases, prints,
When lo! th' ANALYSIS appear'd.

"I smil'd and read; grew grave--read on;
Was pleas'd; the truths apparent shone;
Nor could my prejudice resist 'em.
_The Line of Beauty_ I survey'd,
The arguments I fairly weigh'd,
And then acknowledg'd all your system.

"With reverence, and respect, like you,
The ancient works of art I view;
But, like you, see with my own eyes;
Abhor the tricks so grossly play'd,
Lament the science sunk to trade,
And dealers from my soul despise.

"Pursue, unrivall'd yet, that art,
Which bounteous nature did impart
(Ne'er to be so profuse again):
Our sons, in time to come, shall strive
Where the chief honour they shall give,
Or to your pencil or your pen."

Hogarth had previously presented this gentleman with a volume of his prints, in return for which he received the following very flattering testimony to his talents:--

"TRINITY LANE, _Feb. 28, 1750_.

"DEAR SIR,--Having been confined to my house by a violent cold,
I have had many hours for contemplation, which at such a time
generally turns on my friends, among whom you have been so good
to let me call you one. Your late kind intention came into my
mind, and gave me an uncommon degree of satisfaction; not on
my own account only, but with respect to my family. Your works
I shall treasure up as a family book, or rather as one of the
classics, from which I shall regularly instruct my children,
just in the same manner as I should out of Homer or Virgil. You
will be read in your course,--and it will be no unusual thing
to find me in a morning in my great chair, with my three bigger
boys about me, construing the sixth chapter of the Harlot's
Progress, or comparing the two characters in the first book of
the 'Prentices.

"You are one of the first great men I ever was acquainted with,
and the first great man I desire to be acquainted with, because
you have neither insolence nor vanity. Your character has been
sketched in different pieces, by different authors, and great
encomiums bestowed on you here and there in English, French,
Latin, and Greek: but I want to see a full portrait of you. I
wish I were as intimate with you, and as well qualified for the
purpose, as your friend Fielding,--I would undertake it. I have
made an humble attempt here towards something, but I am afraid
it has more of a death's head than the face of a man.--You won't
be dispirited because my character of you is in the form of an
epitaph, for you will observe at the bottom that I have given you
a great length of days.

"In the corner, near Shakspeare, in Westminster Abbey, on a
monument, elegant only by neatness and symmetry, the next
generation may see something like the enclosed inscription, the
freedom of which you will excuse, and consider it as coming from
a man confined to his room, but from one who is ever, dear sir,
your constant admirer, and most obliged servant,

"JAMES TOWNLEY.

"_To Mr. Hogarth in Leicester Fields._

"AD GULIELMUM HOGARTH,
DUM TU QUID PULCHRUM, QUID TURPE, VOLUMINE DICIS,
NATURÆQUE DOCES QUID SJT, ET ARTIS OPUS,
ATQUE ANIMO CAUSAS, OCULO TABULASQUE DEDISTI,
PICTORIS PRIMI NOMEN UTRINQUE PERES."

[24] The work was translated into German, under the author's inspection, by Mr. Mylins; and with two large plates and twenty-two sheets of letterpress, printed in London at five dollars.

A new and correct edition was (July 1st, 1754) proposed for publication at Berlin by Ch. Fr. Vok, with an explanation of Mr. Hogarth's satirical prints, translated from the French; the whole to _subscribers_ for one dollar, but after six weeks to be raised to two dollars.

An Italian translation was published at Leghorn, 1761, octavo, dedicated _Al illustrissime Signora Diana Molineux dama Inglese_.

That Sterne had read the Analysis, appears by the following _reference recommendatory_, in the first volume of _Tristram Shandy_:--

" ... Such were the outlines of Doctor Slop's figure, which, if you have read Hogarth's _Analysis of Beauty_, and if you have not, I wish you would, you must know may be as certainly caricatured and conveyed to the mind by three strokes as three hundred." Hogarth's engraving of the air-balloon figure is said to be intended for Doctor Burton, the Jacobite physician of York; a microscopic miniature of the plate (so small that it requires the aid of a glass) is in the engraved frontispiece to these volumes.

[25] He bought the picture in for Lady Schaub, and she has since sold it to the present Henry Duke of Newcastle.

[26] The original letter is in the possession of the editor, and with all the circumstances relating to the transaction, _copied from Hogarth's handwriting_, published in the third volume of this work.

[27] The correspondence between Sir Richard Grosvenor and Mr. Hogarth relative to the picture of Sigismunda is in the 3d volume of this work.

[28] I mean to speak of alterations suggested by his friends: to the public at large, if we can confide in the following note, which I found in a volume of the late Doctor Lort's, he paid little attention:--

"HOGARTH'S SIGISMUNDA.

"He placed that picture, which in spite of all the critics could say against it, had infinite merits in the view of the public, and at the same time placed a man in an adjoining room to write down all objections that each spectator made to it. Of these there were a thousand at least, but Hogarth told the writer of this[29] that he attended only to one, and that was made by a madman; and perceiving the objection was founded, he altered it. The madman, after looking stedfastly on the picture for some time, suddenly turned away, exclaiming,--_Hang it_, I hate these white roses. The artist then, and not till then, observed that the foldings of Sigismunda's _chemise_ sleeves were too regular, and had more the appearance of roses than of linen. I know not in whose possession this picture now is, but I will venture to pronounce, that nowhere can distress be more forcibly exprest on canvas: it is a distress, not of the minute, but the day."

[29] The late Philip Thicknesse, Esq.

[30] The attack was commenced in No. 17 of the _North Briton_, which was published on the 17th of September 1762. On the 16th, Mr. Hogarth being at Salisbury, called upon the colonel of the Buckinghamshire militia (who was then quartered in the neighbourhood), with the good-natured intention of shaking hands: as _his old friend_ was not at home, they neither met then, nor at any future period. In my account of the _Times_ there are a few strictures on this political pasquinade, which was followed by much metrical lampoon from the reverend Mr. Churchill. Let us hear his coadjutor, Robert Lloyd, who in a fable entitled _Genius_, _Envy_, and _Time_, gives TIME the following speech:--

"Yet, Genius, mark what I presage,
Who look through every distant age:
Merit shall bless thee with her charms,
Fame lift thy offspring in her arms,
And stamp eternity of grace
On all thy numerous, various race.
Roubiliac, Wilton, names as high
As Phidias of antiquity,
Shall strength, expression, manner give,
And make e'en marble breathe and live,
While Sigismunda's deep distress,
Which looks the soul of wretchedness;
_When I_, with slow and soft'ning pen,
Have gone o'er all the tints agen,
Shall urge a bold and proper claim
To level half the ancient fame;
While future ages yet unknown,
With critic air shall proudly own,
Thy Hogarth first of every clime,
For humour keen, or strong sublime,
And hail him from his fire and spirit,
The child of Genius and of Merit."

--_Lloyd's Works_, p. 204.

[31] I learn from Mr. Nichols, that he was a dupe to flattery; that his easiness of disposition should be practised on is natural, but that any of _his friends_ should boast of such an imposition as the following, is extraordinary:--

" ... A word in favour of Sigismunda might have commanded a proof print, or forced an original sketch out of our artist's hand. The furnisher of this remark owes one of his scarcest performances to the success of a compliment which might have stuck even in Sir Godfrey Kneller's throat."--_Nichols' Anecdotes_, p. 55.

[32] Having given Mr. Walpole's remarks, it is but fair to insert that part of the Analysis which gave rise to them:--

"Notwithstanding the deep-rooted notion, even amongst the majority of painters themselves, that Time is a great improver of good pictures, I will undertake to show that nothing can be more absurd. Having mentioned the whole effect of the oil, let us now see in what manner Time operates on the colours themselves, in order to discover if any changes in them can give a picture more union and harmony than has been in the power of a skilful master with all his rules of art to do. When colours change at all, it must be somewhat in the manner following; for as they are made, some of metal, some of earth, some of stone, and others of more perishable materials, Time cannot operate on them otherwise than as by daily experience we find it doth, which is, that one changes darker, another lighter, one quite to a different colour, whilst another, as ultra-marine, will keep its natural brightness even in the fire. THEREFORE, how is it possible that such different materials, ever variously changing (visibly, after a certain time), should accidentally coincide with the artist's intention, and bring about the greater harmony of the piece, when it is manifestly contrary to their nature; for do we not see, in most collections, that much time disunites, untunes, blackens, and by degrees destroys, even the best preserved pictures?

"But if, for argument's sake, we suppose that the colours were to fall equally together, let us see what sort of advantage this would give to any sort of composition: we will begin with a flower-piece. When a master hath painted a rose, a lily, an african, a gentinnella, or violet, with his best art and brightest colours, how far short do they fall of the freshness and rich brilliancy of nature! And shall we wish to see them fall still lower, more faint, sullied, and dirtied by the hand of Time, and then admire them as having gained an additional beauty, and call them mended and heightened, rather than fouled, and in a manner destroyed? How absurd! instead of mellowed and softened, therefore, always read yellow and sullied; for this is doing Time, the destroyer, but common justice. Or shall we desire to see complexions, which in life are often literally as brilliant as the flowers above mentioned, served in the like ungrateful manner? In a landscape, will the water be more transparent, or the sky shine with a greater lustre, when embrowned and darkened by decay? Surely no.--These opinions have given rise to another absurdity, viz. that _the colours now-a-days_ do not stand so well as formerly; whereas colours well prepared, in which there are but little art or expense, have, and will always have, the same properties in every age; and without accidents, damps, bad varnish, and the like (being laid separate and pure), will stand and keep together for many years in defiance of Time itself."

[33] "It may be truly observed of Hogarth, that all his powers of delighting were confined to his pencil. Having rarely been admitted into polite circles, none of his sharp comers had been rubbed off, so that he continued to the last a gross, uncultivated man. The slightest contradiction transported him into rage. To be member of a club consisting of mechanics, or those not many removes above them, seems to have been the utmost of his social ambition; but even in these assemblies he was oftener sent to _Coventry_, for misbehaviour, than any other person who frequented them. He is said to have beheld the rising eminence and popularity of Sir Joshua Reynolds with a degree of envy; and, if I am not misinformed, spoke with asperity both of him and his performances. Justice, however, obliges me to add that our artist was liberal, hospitable, and the most punctual of paymasters; so that, in spite of the emoluments his works had procured to him, he left but an inconsiderable fortune to his widow."--_Nichols' Anecdotes_, p. 97.

[34] In furniture, decorations, etc., this place has not been altered since his death. There is not one of his own prints, but in the parlour are framed engravings from Sir James Thornhill's paintings in St. Paul's Cathedral, and the Houbraken heads of Shakspeare, Spencer, and Dryden. The garden is laid out in a good style: over the door is a cast of George the Second's mask, in lead, and in one corner a rude and shapeless stone, placed upright against the wall, and inscribed,

ALAS, POOR DICK!
OB. 1760.
AGED ELEVEN.

Beneath the inscriptions are two cross bones of birds, surmounted with a heart and death's head. The sculpture was made with a nail, by the hand of Hogarth, and placed there in memory of a favourite bullfinch, who is deposited beneath.

[35] This is Doctor Johnson's epitaph, and he wrote only four. He has broken his own rule, that the name should always be inserted in the body of the verse.

[36] The verses, as first written by Mr. Garrick, and now in the possession of Mr. James Townley, are as follows:--

"If thou hast genius, reader, stay;
If thou hast feeling, drop the tear;--
If thou hast neither,--hence, away,
For Hogarth's dear remains lie here.
His matchless works, of fame secure,
Shall live our country's pride and boast,
As long as nature shall endure,
And only in her wreck be lost."

[37] In the _Daily Advertiser_ of January 27, 1783, I find the following advertisement:--

"HOGARTH'S ORIGINAL WORKS.

"As an opinion generally prevails, that the genuine impressions
of Hogarth's works are very bad, and the plates retouched, Mrs.
Hogarth is under the necessity of acquainting the public in
general, and the admirers of her deceased husband's works in
particular, that it has been owing to a want of proper attention
in the conducting this work for some years past that the
impressions in general have not done justice to the condition of
the plates; and she has requested some gentlemen, most eminent in
the art of engraving, to inspect the plates, who have given the
following opinion:--

"LONDON, _January 21, 1873_.

"We, whose names are underwritten, having carefully examined
the copperplates published by the late Mr. Hogarth, are fully
convinced that they have not been retouched since his death.

"FRANCIS BARTOLOZZI.

"WM. WOOLLET.

"WM. WYNNE RYLAND."

[38] Notwithstanding this, Mrs. Lewis told me, that a gentleman who possessed a collection of Hogarth's works, once requested she would lend him the plates for the purpose of having a set faintly taken off, as a contrast to his own. It is scarcely necessary to say this _modest request_ was refused, and she received much consequent abuse.

[39] He frequently drew sketches of heads upon his nail, and when he came home, copied them on paper, from whence they were transferred to his plates.

[40] See two large pictures of the Good Samaritan, and the Pool of Bethesda, which he presented to St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

[41] G. M. Stainforth, Esq., of Berkeley Square, has in his possession a portrait of the late Justice Walsh, which, for a wager, Mr. Hogarth painted in less than an hour, and it is said to be a strong resemblance.

[42] This observation extends no further than to his conversations among his intimates.

"Mr. Walpole once invited Gray the poet and Hogarth to dine with him; but what with the reserve of the one, and a want of colloquial talents in the other, he never passed a duller time than between these two representatives of tragedy and comedy, being obliged to rely entirely on his own efforts to support conversation."--Nichols' _Anecdotes_, p. 97.

Johnson, though his colloquial powers were gigantic, could not speak in the Society of Arts: he could not, as he himself expressed it, _get on_.

[43] In this he resembled a man whose simplicity of manners and integrity of life give me a pride in avowing myself one of his descendants.

"He could not bear that any one should in their absence be evil spoken of; and in such cases frequently recommended the person who censured to peruse that verse in Leviticus xix. 14, which says, _Thou shalt not curse the deaf_"; adding, "Those that are _absent_ are deaf."--_Life of Rev. Philip Henry_, Orton's edition, p. 252.

[44] A merchant named Purse, whom he never saw, left him a legacy of one hundred pounds, as a trifling acknowledgment for the pleasure and information the testator had received from his works. By this solitary testimony to his talents he was highly gratified.

[45] The attendant represents John Gourlay, the Colonel's favourite and confidant.

[46] To show how fair an object for satire the painter has selected, and how properly he has hung up such a miscreant as an example for posterity to avoid, part of it is inserted:--

Here continueth to rot,
the body of FRANCIS CHARTRES;
who, with an INFLEXIBLE CONSTANCY, and
INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY of life,
PERSISTED,
in spite of AGE and INFIRMITIES,
in the practice of EVERY HUMAN VICE,
excepting PRODIGALITY and HYPOCRISY.
His insatiable AVARICE exempted him from the first;
his matchless IMPUDENCE from the second.

Oh, indignant reader!
think not his life useless to mankind;
Providence connived at his execrable designs,
to give to after ages a conspicuous
proof and example
of how small estimation is EXORBITANT WEALTH
in the sight of GOD, by His bestowing it on
the most UNWORTHY OF ALL MORTALS.

[47] Mother Needham, who stood in the pillory at Park Place on the 5th of May 1734, and was so roughly treated by the populace that she died a few days afterwards. The crime for which she suffered was, _keeping a disorderly house_.

[48] The _Grub Street Journal_ for August 6, 1730, giving an account of several prostitutes who were taken up, informs us that "the fourth was Kate Hackabout (whose brother was lately hanged at Tyburn), a woman noted in and about the hundreds of Drury, etc."

[49] Among a great number of copies which the success of these prints tempted obscure artists to make, there was one set printed on two large sheets of paper for G. King, Brownlow Street, which, being made with Hogarth's consent, may possibly contain some additions suggested and inserted by his directions. In this plate, beneath the sign of the Bell, is inscribed, PARSONS INTIER BUTT BEAR.

[50] The attendant black boy gave the foundation of an ill-natured remark by Quin, when Garrick once attempted the part of Othello. "He pretend to play Othello!" said the surly satirist; "he pretend to play Othello! He wants nothing but the tea-kettle and lamp to qualify him for Hogarth's Pompey!"

[51] In the copies printed for G. King, this picture has a label, Jonah, why art thou angry? and under the lower portrait is written, Mr. Woolston.

[52] This has been said to be a portrait, but of whom I never could get any information.

[53] In Rembrandt's "Abraham's Offering," in the Houghton collection now at Petersburgh, the knife dropping from the hand of the patriarch appears in a falling state.

[54] This paper is a pastoral letter from Gibson Bishop of London, and intimates that the writings of grave prelates were sometimes to be found in chandlers' shops, as they are even unto this day.

[55] Following the Doctor's name are the letters S.T.P., _sanctæ theologiæ professor_. A fellow not knowing the import of these dignifying capitals, well enough translated them, SAUCY TROUBLESOME PUPPY.

[56] When Theodore, the unfortunate king of Corsica, was so reduced as to lodge in a garret in Dean Street, Soho, a number of gentlemen made a collection for his relief. The chairman of their committee informed him by letter, that on the following day, at twelve o'clock, two of the society would wait upon his Majesty with the money. To give his _Attic_ apartment an appearance of royalty, the poor monarch placed an arm-chair on his half-testered bed, and seating himself under the scanty canopy, gave what he thought might serve as the representation of a throne. When his two visitors entered the room, he graciously held out his right hand, that they might have the honour of--kissing it!

[57] Sir John Gonson, a justice of peace, very active in the suppression of brothels. In a view of the town in 1735, by T. Gilbert (Fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge), are the following lines:--