Chapter XVII: Canto IV (1)

CHAIRING _the_ MEMBERS.
"Huzza! the Country! not the Court!"--.
Your Honour can't have better sport;
In old arm-chair aloft you soar--
No Candidate can wish for more.
Th' election's got, the day's your own,
And be to all their member known!

Ye Moths of an exalted size!
Ye sage Historians, learn'd and wise!
Who pore on leaves of old tradition;
Vers'd in each prætor exhibition;
Tell me if, 'midst the spoils of age,
And relicks of the moulder'd page,
You e'er found why this aukward state
Must 'tend the man who'd fain be great!
When _Alexander_, Glory's son,
Enter'd in triumph _Babylon_,
Hear ancient annals make confession,
How aggrandiz'd was his procession!
But this is _Skymington_, I trow!----
Yet Time proclaims _We must_[C] do so.
It sure was meant to make folks stare,
"Like cloths hung out at country fair:
Where painted monsters rage and grin,
To draw the gaping bumpkins in."[D]
_Minerva's_ sacred bird's an owl;
Our candidate's, behold, a fowl!
From which we readily suppose
(As now his generous Honour's chose)
His voice he'll in the Senate use;
And cackle, cackle, like--a goose.

But, hark ye! you who bear this load
Of patriot worth along the road,
Methinks you make his Honour lean;
Be careful, Sirs!--Zounds! what d' ye mean?
Off flies his hat, back leans his chair,
And dread of falling makes him stare.
His Lady, fond to see him ride,
With Nurse and _Black-moor_ at her side,
In church-yard stands to view the sight,
And at his danger's in a fright.
"Alack, alack, she faints away!"
"The hartshorn, _Ora_--quick, I say!"
See, at yon house th' opposing party
Enjoy the joke, with laughter hearty!
"Well done, my boys--now let him fall;
Here's gin and porter for you all!"

But let's find whence this came about:
Ha, lo, that Thresher bold and stout!
How, like a hero, void of dread,
He aims to crack that sailor's head!
While, with the purchase of the stroke,
Behind, the bearer's pate is broke:
The sailor too resolves to drub,
Wrathful he sways the ponderous club;
Who to stir up his rage shall dare?
He'll fight for ever--for his Bear.

Sir _Hudibras_ agreed, Bear-baiting
Was carnal, and of man's creating;
But, had he like that Thresher done,
I'll hold a wager, ten to one,
His knighthood had not kept him safe;
That Tar had trimm'd both him and _Ralph_.

In fighting _George's_ glorious battles,
To save our liberties and chattels;
Commanded by some former _Howe_,
Ordain'd to make proud _Gallia_ bow,
A cannon-ball took off his leg:
What then? he scorns, like some, to beg;
That muzzled beast is taught to dance,
That Ape to ape the beaux of _France_;
The countryfolks admire the sport,
And small collections pay him for't.
Sailors and Soldiers ne'er agree;--
There's difference twixt the Land and Sea;
He, willing not a jest shall 'scape,
In uniform riggs out his Ape:--
From which we reasonably infer
An Ape may be an Officer.
But, hey-day! more disasters still?
Turn quick thy head, bold sailor _Will_.
In vain that fellow, on his Ass,
Attempts to Hogs at home to pass,
The hungry Bear, who thinks no crime
To feast on guts at any time,
Arrests the garbage in the tub,
And with his snout begins to grub.
Pray is it friendly, honest brother,
That one Ass thus should ride another?
The beast seems wearied with his toil,
And, like the bear, would munch a while.
The good wife thought that every pig
Should in the wash, then coming, swig;
And went industriously to find
Her family of the hoggish kind;
But, oh, unhappy fate to tell!
Behind the Thresher down she fell:
Indeed the wonder were no more,
Had she, by chance, fall'n down before:
Away the sow affrighted runs,
Attended by her little ones:
Those gruntings to each other sounding;
This squeaking shrill, through fear of drowning.

"The lamb thou doom'st to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reason, wou'd he play?"[E]
And did that Bear know he'd be beat,
Would he from out that firkin eat?
The Ass's rider lifts his stick;
Take out your nose, old _Bruin_, quick;
A grin of vengeance arms his face,
Presaging torture, and disgrace.
The Ape, who dearly loves to ride
On _Bruin's_ back, in martial pride,
Dejected at the sad occasion,
Looks up, with soft commiseration;
As if to speak, "Oh, spare my friend!
Avert that blow you now intend!"
'Tis complaisant, good-natur'd too;--
Much more than many Apes would do.

Observe the chimney-sweepers, there!
On gate-post, how they laugh and stare;
Those bones, and emblematic skull,
Have no effect to make them dull;
Pleas'd they adorn the death-like head
With spectacles of gingerbread.

When _London_ city's bold train-band[F]
March, to preserve their track of land,
Each val'rous heart the _French_ defying,
While drums are beating, colours flying,
How many accidents resound
From _Tower-hill_ to th' _Artillery-ground!_
Perhaps some hog, in frisky pranks,
Unluckily breaks through their ranks,
And makes the captain storm and swear,
To _form_ their soldiers, _as they were_:
Or else the wadding, which they ram,
Pop into some one's ear they jam;
Or not alert at gun and sword,
When their commander gives the word
To fire, amidst the dust and clamour,
Forget to draw their desperate rammer;
And one or two brave comrades hit,
As cooks fix larks upon a spit.
That Monkey's sure not of the reg'ment,
Yet still his arms should have abridgement;
The little, aukward, martial figure,
Will wriggle till he pulls the trigger:
'Tis done--and see the bullet fly!--
Pop down, you rogue! or else you'll die.

Survey, as merry as a grig,
The Fiddler dancing to his jig!
No goat, by good St. _David_ rear'd,
Could ever boast more length of beard:
'Tis his to wait on Master _Bruin_,
And tune away to all he's doing;
You think this strange, but 'tis no more,
Than _Orpheus_ did in days of yore;
With modern fiddlers so it fares;
They often scratch to dancing-bears.
He took to scraping in his prime,
And plays in tune, as well as time;
Elections cheer his merry heart;
Sure always then to _play_ his _part_:
In toping healths as great a soaker
As executing _Ally Croaker_.
Tho' some Musicians scarce can touch
The strings, if drunk a glass too much;
Yet he'll tope ale, or stout _October_,
And scrape as well when drunk, as sober.

Lo, on yon stone which shows the way.
That travellers mayn't go astray;
And tells how many miles they lag on,
From _London_, in the drawling waggon,
A Soldier sits, in naked buff!
In troth, Sir, this is odd enough!
His head bound up, his sword-blade broken,
And flesh with many a bloody token,
Declare he fought extremely well;
But which had best on't, who can tell?
If he were victor, 'tis confest,
To be so maul'd makes bad the best:
What though he smart, he likes the jobb;
'Tis _great_ to head a party-mob.
But what reward for all he did?--
Oh, Sir, he'll never want a--_quid_.

There's somewhat savory in the wind--
Those Courtiers, Friend, have not yet din'd:
Their true ally, grave _Puzzle-cause_,
A man right learned in the laws,
(Whose meagre clerk below can't venture,
And wishes damn'd the long indenture),
As custom bids, prepares the dinner,
For, though they've lost, yet he's the winner.
See, the domestic train appear!
Old _England_ bringing up the rear!
Curse on their stomachs, who can't brook
Good _English_ fare, from _English_ cook!
Observe lank Monsieur, in amaze,
Upon the valiant soldier gaze!
"Morbleu! you love de fight, ve see,
But dat is no de dish for ve."
Behold, above, that azure garter--
Look, now he whispers, like a tartar;
By button fast he holds the other,
The lost election makes a pother.
"All this parade is idle stuff--
We know our interest well enough--
We still support what we espouse;
We'll bring the matter in the _House_."

Of some wise man, perhaps philosopher,
(If not, it flings the vice a gloss over)
I've read, who, Maudlin-like, would cry
Soon as he 'ad drunk his barrel dry:
Yon fellow, certain as a gun,
Of that Philosopher's a Son:
Long as the pot the beer could scoop,
He scorn'd, like swine, to trough to stoop;
But, now 'tis shallow, kneels devout,
Eager to suck the last drop out.
Vociferous Loyalty's a-dry,
And, lo, they bear a fresh supply!
That all the mob may roar applause,
And know they'll never starve the cause.

When grey-mare proves the better horse,
The man is mis'rable of course;
That Taylor leads a precious life--
Look at the termagant his wife,
She pays him sweetly o'er the head;--
"Get home, you dog, and get your bread;
Shall I have nothing to appear in,
While you get drunk electioneering?"

See from the Town-hall press the crowd,
While rustic Butchers ring aloud!
There, lo, their cap of liberty!
Here t'other side in effigy!
A notable device, to call
The Courtier party blockheads all:
Aloft True-Blue, their ensign, flies,
And acclamations rend the skies.
Reflect, my friend, and judge from thence.
How idle this extreme expence;
What mighty sums are thrown away,
To be the pageant of the day!
In vain Desert implores protections;
The Rich are fonder of Elections.
Th' ambitious Peer, the Knight, the 'Squire,
Can buy the Borough they desire;
Yet see, with unassisting eye,
Arts fade away, and Genius die.
Tir'd with the applauding, and the sneering,
And all that's styl'd Electioneering,
I think to take a little tour,
And likely tow'rd the _Gallic_ shore;
The Muse, to whom we bear no malice,
Invites me to the Gate of _Calais_.[G]
That gate to which a knight of worth,
'Yclep'd _Sir Loin_, of _British_ birth,
Advanc'd, though not in hostile plight,
And put their army in a fright.
But more it fits not, here to tell,
So, courteous Reader, fare thee well.

[A] In _The European Magazine_ for the month of _Oct._ 1784, appears a letter on the subject of Painting, signed C. I. F. which contains the following extraordinary criticism on the circumstance here described.

"Our own inimitable _Hogarth_ has, in some of his latter pieces, grossly violated this rule; and, for the sake of crowding his piece with incidents, has represented what could not happen at all.

"In his representation of an Election Feast, he has placed a man at the end of the table with an oyster still upon his fork, and his fork in his hand, though his coat must have been stripped up from his arm after he took it up, by the surgeon, who has made an ineffectual attempt to let him blood. Supposing gluttony to have so far absorbed all the persons present, even at the end of a feast, as that none of them should pay the least attention to this incident, which is, if not impossible, improbable in the highest degree, they must necessarily have been alarmed at another incident that is represented as taking place at the same moment: a great stone has just broke through the window, and knocked down one of the company, who is exhibited in the act of falling; yet every one is represented as pursuing his purpose with the utmost tranquillity."

I must entreat my reader to examine the print, before I can expect belief, when I assure him, that for this criticism there is not the slightest foundation.--The magistrate is bled in the right arm, which is bared for that purpose, by stripping the coat-sleeve from it.--It is in his left hand that he holds the fork with the oyster on it, his coat-sleeve being all the while on his left arm.--As to the attention of the company, it is earnestly engaged by different objects; and _Hogarth_ perhaps designed to insinuate that accidents, arising from repletion or indigestion, are too common at election dinners to attract notice or excite solicitude.--The brickbat has not noisily forced its way through a window, but was thrown in at a casement already open; and a moment must have elapsed before an event so instantaneous could be perceived in an assembly, every individual of which had his distinct avocation. Of this moment our artist has availed himself. Till, therefore, the accident was discovered, he has, with the utmost propriety, left every person present to pursue his former train of thought or amusement.

[B] The ingenious artist in _Fleet-street_, well known to the learned and ingenious, by his excellence in taking Busts from the Life, and casts from Anatomical Dissections.

[C] See the Dial in Plate IV.

[D] See the Prologue to a farce called "The Male Coquette."

[E] See _Pope's_ Essay on Man.

[F] This passage will, perhaps, be better illustrated by the following paragraph, printed in a daily paper called "The Citizen:"--"_Saturday_ last, being the first day of _August_ Old Stile, the Artillery Company marched according to custom once in three years (called _Barnes's March_, by which they hold an estate): they went to Sir _George Whitmore's_, and took a dunghill. As they were marching through _Bunhill-Row_, a large hog ran between a woman's legs and threw her down, by which accident the ranks were broke, which put the army in the utmost confusion before they could recover."

[G] See above, p. 295.

[5] The _earliest impressions_ of this plate in its second state, have the same inscription.

[6] _Morellon Le Cave_. Mr. _Walpole_, in his catalogue of _English_ engravers, (octavo edit.) professes to know no more of this artist than that he was "a scholar of _Picart_" and "did a head of Dr. _Pococke_ before _Twells's_ edition of the Doctor's works." In the year 1739, however, he engraved _Captain Coram_, &c. at the head of the Power of Attorney, &c. (a description of which see p. 254. of the present work) and afterwards was _Hogarth's_ coadjutor in this third of his Election plates. At the bottom of it he is only styled _Le Cave_.

[7] Some of these scenes having been reversed by the engraver, the figures in them are represented as using their left hands instead of their right.

[8] Query, what were the scandalous prints to which he alludes?

[9] This _A. R._ was _Allan Ramsay_, but having never met with his performance, I can give no account of it.

* * * * *

1756.

1. _France_ and _England_, two plates; both etched by himself. Under them are the following verses, by Mr. _Garrick_:

PLATE I. FRANCE.
With lanthern 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.

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.

2. The Search Night, a copy. _J. Fielding sculp._ 21_st March_, 1756.[1] "_A very bad print, and I believe an imposition_." On this plate are sixteen stupid verses, not worth transcribing. It was afterwards copied again in two different sizes in miniature, and printed off on cards, by _Darly_, in 1766. The original, in a small oval, was an impression taken from the top of a silver tobacco-box; engraved by _Hogarth_ for one Captain _Johnson_, and never meant for publication.

[1] There is also a copy of this print, engraved likewise by _Fielding_, and dated _August_ 11, 1746.

* * * * *

1758.

1. His own portrait,[1] sitting, and painting the Muse of Comedy; Head profile, in a cap. The Analysis of Beauty on the floor. _W. Hogarth, serjeant-painter to his Majesty._ The face engraved by _W. Hogarth_.

I should observe, that when this plate was left with the person employed to furnish the inscription, he, taking the whole for the production of our artist, wrote "Engraved by _W. Hogarth_" under it. _Hogarth_, being conscious that the face only had been touched by himself, added, with his own hand, "_The Face_" Engraved, &c.

In the second impression "The Face Engraved by _W. Hogarth_" is totally omitted.

In the third impression "Serjeant-painter, &c." is scratched over by the burin, but remains still sufficiently legible.

The fourth impression has "_the face retouched, but not so like as the preceding.[2] Comedy also has the face and mask marked with black,[3] and inscribed,_ COMEDY, 1764. _No other inscription but his name,_ William Hogarth, 1764."

The original from which this plate is taken, is in Mrs. _Hogarth's_ possession at _Chiswick_. A whole-length of herself, in the same size, is its companion. They are both small pictures.

[1] Among the prints bequeathed by the late Mr. _Forrest_ to his executor Mr. _Coxe_, is this head cut out of a proof, and touched up with _Indian_ ink by _Hogarth_. Mr. _Forrest_, in an inscription on the back of the paper to which it is affixed, observes it was a present to him from Mrs. _Hogarth_.

With these prints are likewise several early impressions from other plates by our artist; and in particular a March to _Finchley_ uncommonly fine, and with the original spelling of PRUSIA uncorrected even by a pen. I am told that both the head and this, with other engravings in the collection of the late Mr. _Forrest_, will be sold by auction in the course of the Winter 1786.

[2] i. e. the two first.

[3] So in both the third and fourth impressions.

2. The Bench. Over the top of this plate is written in capitals--CHARACTER. Under it "of the different meaning of the words _Character, Caracatura,_ and _Outrè_, in painting and drawing," Then follows a long inscription on this subject. The original painting is in the collection of Mr. _Edwards_.

* * * * *

1759.

1. The Cockpit. _Designed and engraved by W. Hogarth._ In this plate is a portrait of _Nan Rawlins_, a very ugly old woman (commonly called _Deptford Nan_, sometimes the _Duchess of Deptford_), and well remembered at _Newmarket_. She was a famous cock-feeder, and did the honours of the _gentlemen's_ ordinary at _Northampton_; while, in return, a single gentleman was deputed to preside at the table appropriated to the _ladies_. The figure with a hump-back, was designed for one _Jackson_, a once noted jockey at _Newmarket_. The blind president is Lord _Albemarle Bertie_, who was a constant attender of this diversion. His portrait was before discoverable in the crowd round the bruisers in the March to _Finchley_.

By the cockpit laws, any person who cannot, or will not pay his debts of honour, is drawn up in a basket to the roof of the building. Without a knowledge of this circumstance, the shadow of the man who is offering his watch would be unintelligible.

The subject of The Cockpit had been recommended to _Hogarth_ so long ago as 1747, in the following lines, first printed in _The Gentleman's Magazine_ of that year, p. 292.

"Where _Dudston's_[1] walks with vary'd beauties shine,
And some are pleas'd with bowling, some with wine,
Behold a generous train of Cocks repair,
To vie for glory in the toils of war;
Each hero burns to conquer or to die:
What mighty hearts in little bosoms lie!

"Come, _Hogarth_, thou whose art can best declare
What forms, what features, human passions wear,
Come, with a painter's philosophic sight,
Survey the circling judges of the fight.
Touch'd with the sport of death, while every heart
Springs to the changing face, exert thy art;
Mix with the smiles of Cruelty at pain
Whate'er looks anxious in the lust of gain;
And say, can aught that's generous, just, or kind,
Beneath this aspect, lurk within the mind?
Is lust of blood or treasure vice in all,
Abhorr'd alike on whomsoe'er it fall?
Are mighty states and gamblers still the same?
And war itself a cock-fight, and a game?
Are sieges, battles, triumphs, little things;
And armies only the game-cocks of kings?
Which fight, in Freedom's cause, still blindly bold,
Bye-battles only, and the main for gold?

"The crested bird, whose voice awakes the morn,
Whose plumage streaks of radiant gold adorn,
Proud of his birth, on fair _Salopia's_ plain,
Stalks round, and scowls defiance and disdain.
Not fiercer looks the proud _Helvetians_ wear,
Though thunder slumbers in the arms they bear:
Nor _Thracia's_ fiercer sons, a warlike race!
Display more prowess, or more martial grace.
But, lo! another comes, renown'd for might,
Renown'd for courage, and provokes the fight.
Yet what, alas! avails his furious mien,
His ruddy neck, and breast of varied green?
Soon thro' his brain the foe's bright weapon flies,
Eternal darkness shades his swimming eyes;
Prostrate he falls, and quivering spurns the ground,
While life indignant issues from the wound.
Unhappy hero, had thy humbler life
Deny'd thee fame by deeds of martial strife,
Still hadst thou crow'd, for future pleasures spar'd,
Th' exulting monarch of a farmer's yard.

"Like fate, alas! too soon th' illustrious prove,
The great by hatred fall, the fair by love;
The wise, the good, can scarce preserve a name,
Expung'd by envy from the rolls of fame.
Peace and oblivion still through life secure,
In friendly glooms, the simple, homely, poor.
And who would wish to bask in glory's ray,
To buy with peace the laurel or the bay?
What tho' the wreath defy the lightning's fire,
The bard and hero in the storm expire.
Be rest and innocence my humbler lot,
Scarce known through life, and after death forgot!"

[1] A gentleman's seat, about a mile from _Birmingham_, fitted up for the reception of company, in imitation of _Vaux-hall Gardens_.

2. A small oval of Bishop _Hoadly_, ætat. 83. _Hogarth pinx. Sherlock sculp._

* * * * *

1760.

1. Frontispiece to _Tristram Shandy_. Of this plate there are two copies; in the first of which the hat and clock are omitted. _S. Ravenet sculp._ In this plate is the portrait of Dr. _Burton_, of _York_, the Jacobite physician and antiquary, in the character of Dr. _Slop_.

_Sterne_ probably was indebted for these plates (especially the first of them) to the following compliment he had paid our author in the first volume of _Tristram Shandy_. "Such were the outlines of Dr. _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 as certainly be caracatured, and conveyed to the mind by three strokes as three hundred."

2. Frontispiece to _Brook Taylor's_ Perspective of Architecture.[1] With an attempt at a new order. _W. Hogarth, July_ 1760. _W. Woollet sculp._ Lest any reader should suppose that this idea of forming a new capital out of the Star of St. _George_, the Prince of _Wales's_ Feather,[2] and a regal Coronet, was hatched in the mind of _Hogarth_ after he had been appointed Serjeant Painter, the following passage in the _Analysis_ will prove that many years before he had conceived the practicability of such an attempt: see p. 40. "I am thoroughly convinced in myself, however it may startle some, that a completely new and harmonious order of architecture in all its parts might be produced, &c." Again, p. 46. "Even a capital, composed of the aukward and confined forms of hats and perriwigs, as Fig. 48. Plate I. in a skilful hand might be made to have some beauty." Mr. _S. Ireland_ has the original sketch.

[1] Published in two volumes, folio, 1761, by _Joshua Kirby_, Designer in Perspective to his Majesty.--"Here is a curious frontispiece, designed by Mr. _Hogarth_; but not in the same ludicrous style as the former (see p. 333): it were to be wished that he had explained its meaning; for, being symbolical, the meaning of it is not so obvious as the other. To me it conveys the idea, which _Milton_ so poetically describes, of the angel _Uriel_ gliding down to Paradise on a sun-beam; but the young gentleman has dropped off before he had arrived at his journey's end, with _Palladio's_ book of architecture on his knees. A ray of light from the sun, rising over a distant mountain, is directed to a scroll on the ground, on which are two or three scraps of perspective; over which, supported by a large block of stone, is the upper part of a sceptre, broke off; the shaft very obliquely and absurdly inclined, somewhat resembling the _Roman_ fasces, and girt above with the Prince of _Wales's_ coronet, as an astragal, through which the fasces rise, and swell into a crown, adorned with embroidered stars; this is the principal object, but most vilely drawn. The ray passes through a round temple, at a considerable distance, which is also falsly represented, the curves being for the distance too round, and consequently the diminution of the columns is too great. It appears to pass over a piece of water; on this side the ground is fertile and luxuriant with vegetation, abounding with trees and shrubs; on the other side it is rocky and barren.[A] What is indicated by this seems to be, that, where the arts are encouraged by the rays of royal favour, they will thrive and flourish; but where they are neglected, and do not find encouragement, they will droop and languish." _Malton's_ Appendix to his Treatise on Perspective.

[A] The idea of this contrast between fertility and barrenness is an old one. _Hogarth_ probably took it from the engraving known by the name of _Raffaelle's Dream_.

[2] Mr. _H. Emlyn_ has lately realised this plan, by his Proposals for a new order of architecture, 1781.

3. Mr. _Huggins_. A small circular plate. _Hogarth pinx. Major sculp._ On the left, a bust, inscribed, "IL DIVINO ARIOSTO." "DANTE L'INFERNO, IL PURGATORIO, IL PARADISO." Mr. _Huggins_ (of whom see p. 19.) had this portrait engraven, to prefix to his translation of _Dante_, of which no more than a specimen was ever published.

The bust of _Ariosto_ was inserted by the positive order of Mr. _Huggins_ (after the plate was finished), though much against the judgement of the engraver, who was convinced that a still ground would have shewn the countenance of the person represented to much greater advantage. Mr. _Major's_ charge was only three guineas, and yet eleven years elapsed before he received even this trifling acknowledgement for his labour. Dr. _Monkhouse_ has the plate.

* * * * *

1761.

1. Frontispiece and tail-piece to the catalogue of pictures exhibited at _Spring Gardens. W. Hogarth inv. C. Grignion sculp._ There is a variation of this print; a _Latin_ motto under each in the second edition. In the earliest impressions _obit_, corrected afterwards to _obiit_. The same mark of ignorance, however, remains unamended over the monument of the Judge in the first plate of the _Analysis_.

2. _Time_ blackening a picture. Subscription-ticket for his _Sigismunda_. "_This, and the preceding tail-piece, are satires on Connoisseurs._"

3. The Five Orders of Perriwigs at the Coronation of _George_ III.[1] Many of the heads, as well as wigs, were known at the time. The first head of the second row was designed to represent Lord _Melcombe_; and those of Bishops _Warburton, Mawson,_ and _Squire,_ are found in the groupe. The advertisement annexed, as well as the whole print, is said to have been a ridicule on Mr. _Stewart's_ Antiquities of _Athens_, in which, with minute accuracy, are given the measurements of all the members of the _Greek_ Architecture. The inscription under the print affords a plentiful crop of false spellings--volumns--advertisment--baso--&c. The second _e_ in advertisement was afterwards added on the neck of the female figure just over it. The first and subsequent impressions will be known by this distinction.

[1] A Dissertation on Mr. _Hogarth's_ print of the Order of Perriwigs, viz. the Episcopal, Aldermanic, and Lexonic, is printed in _The Beauties of all the Magazines_, 1761, p. 52.

4. Frontispiece to the Farmer's Return from _London_, an Interlude by Mr. _Garrick_,[1] acted at _Drury Lane. W. Hogarth delin. J. Basire sculp._ In Mr. _Foster's_ collection is a bad copy of this plate, no name, the figures reversed. The original drawing was given to Mr. _Garrick_, and is supposed to be in the possession of his widow at _Hampton_. Mr. _S. Ireland_ has a sketch of it. An excellent copy of this plate is sometimes sold as the original.

[1] Mr. _Garrick'_ publication was thus prefaced: "The following interlude was prepared for the stage, merely with a view of assisting Mrs. _Pritchard_ at her benefit; and the desire of serving so good an actress is a better excuse for its defects, than the few days in which it was written and represented. Notwithstanding the favourable reception it has met with, the author would not have printed it, had not his friend, Mr. _Hogarth_, flattered him most agreeably, by thinking _the Farmer and his Family_ not unworthy of a sketch of his pencil. To him, therefore, this trifle, which he has so much honoured, is inscribed, as a faint testimony of the sincere esteem which the writer bears him, both as a man and an artist."

5. Another frontispiece to _Tristram Shandy_ (for the second volume). His christening. _F. Ravenet sculp._

6. The same engraved by _Ryland_. This, as I am informed, was the first, but was too coarsely executed to suit that prepared for the first volume of the same work.

* * * * *

1762.

1. Credulity, Superstition, and Fanaticism. "_Satire on Methodists._" "For deep and useful satire," says Mr. _Walpole_, "the most sublime of all his works."

This print, however, contains somewhat more than a satire on Methodism. _Credulity_ is illustrated by the figure of the Rabbit-breeder of _Godalming_, with her supposed progeny galloping from under her petticoats. _St. André's_ folly furnished _Hogarth_ with matter for one of his latest, as well as one of his earliest performances.

_Primâ dicte mihi, summâ dicende Camænâ._

2. The Times. Plate I. In one copy of this print _Henry_ VIII. is blowing the flames; in another Mr. _Pitt_ has the same employment: As this design is not illustrated in _Trusler's_ Account of _Hogarth's_ Works, I shall attempt its explanation, and subjoin, by way of note, a humourous description of it, which was printed in a news-paper immediately after it's first appearance in the world.[1]

_Europe_ on fire; _France, Germany, Spain,_ in flames, which are extending to _Great Britain_. This desolation continued and assisted by Mr. _Pitt_, under the figure of King _Henry_ VIII. with bellows increasing the mischief which others are striving to abate. He is mounted on the stilts of the populace. A _Cheshire_ cheese depends from his neck, with 3000 _l._ on it. This alludes to what he had said in Parliament--that he would sooner live on a _Cheshire_ cheese and a shoulder of mutton, than submit to the enemies of _Great Britain_. Lord _Bute_, attended by _English_ soldiers, sailors, and _Highlanders_, manages an engine for extinguishing the flames, but is impeded by the Duke of _Newcastle_, with a wheel-barrow full of _Monitors_ and _North Britons_, for the purpose of feeding the blaze. The respectable body under Mr. _Pitt_ are the aldermen of _London_, worshiping the idol they had set up; whilst the musical King of _Prussia_, who alone is sure to gain by the war, is amusing himself with a violin amongst his miserable countrywomen. The picture of the _Indian_ alludes to the advocates for retaining our _West Indian_ conquests, which, it was said, would only increase excess and debauchery. The breaking down of the _Newcastle_-arms, and the drawing up the patriotic ones, refer to the resignation of that noble Duke, and the appointment of his successor. The _Dutchman_ smoking his pipe, and a _Fox_ peeping out behind him, and 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 all obvious, and perhaps need no explication.

To those already given, however, may be added the following doggrel verses:

Devouring flames with fury roll
Their curling spires from Pole to Pole,
Wide-spreading devastation dire,
Three kingdoms ready to expire;
Here realms convulsive pant for breath,
And quiver in the arms of death.
Ill-fated isle! _Britannia_ bleeds;
The flames her trait'rous offspring feeds:
Now, now, they seize her vital parts--
O save her from his murd'rous arts!

In air exalted high, behold!
Fierce, noisy, boisterous, and bold,
Swol'n, like the king of frogs, that fed
On mangled limbs of victims dead,
With larger bellows in his hand,
Than e'er a blacksmith's in the land,
The flames that waste the world to blow,
He points unto the mob below:
'Look, _Britons_, what a bonfire there!
Halloo, be d----'d, and rend the air.'
Aldermen, marrow-bones and cleavers,
Brokers, stock-jobbers, and coal-heavers,
_Templars_, and knaves of ev'ry station,
The dregs of _London_, and the nation;
Contractors, agents, clerks, and all
Who share the plunder, great and small,
Join in the halloo at his call.
Higher they raise the stilts that bore
The shapeless idol they adore:
He, to increase his weight, had slung
A _Mill-stone_ round his neck, which hung
With bulk enormous to the ground,
And adds thereto _Three Thousand Pound_;
That none may dare to say henceforth,
He wanted either weight or worth.
He blows,--the flames triumphant rise,
Devour the earth, and threat the skies.

When lo! in peaceful mien appears,
In bloom of life, and youthful years,
GEORGE, Prince of Men; a smile benign
That goodness looks, prognostic sign
Of soul etherial, seems to bode,
A world's deliv'rer sent from God.
Array'd in Majesty serene,
Like heav'nly spirits when they deign,
In pity to mankind, to come,
And stop avenging judgement's doom;
Behold, and bless! just not too late
T' avert a sinking nation's fate,
He comes, with friendly care to stay
Those flames that made the world their prey.
Born to reform and bless the age,
Fearless of _faction's_ madd'ning rage,
Which, with united malice, throngs,
To reap the harvest of our wrongs,
He labours to defeat our foes,
Secure our peace, and ease our woes.
Before him _Faction_ dare not shew
Her ghastly face and livid hue,
But back retires to _Temple-Bar_,
Where the spectator sees from far
Many a traitor's head erect,
To shew what traitors must expect.
Upon that _barefac'd_ figure look,
With empty scull and full peruke;
For man or statue it might pass;
_Cæsar_ would call't a golden ass.
Behold the vain malicious thing,
Squirting his poison at his king,
And pointing, with infernal art,
Th' envenom'd rancour of his heart.

Higher in parts and place appears
His venal race of Garretteers;
A starving, mercenary tribe,
That sell, for every bidder's bribe,
Their scantling wits to purchase bread
And always drive the briskest trade,
When _Faction_ sounds with loudest din,
To bring some new Pretender in.
This tribe from their ærial station,
Deluge with scandal all the nation:
Below contempt, secure from shame,
Sure not to forfeit any fame,
Indifferent what part to choose,
With nothing but their ears to lose.
Not Virtue on a throne can be
From tongues below resentment free.
Of human things such the distraction,
With Liberty we must have Faction.

But look behind the _Temple-gate_,
Near the thick, clumsy, stinking seat,
Where _London's_ pageant sits in state;
What wild, ferocious shape is there,
With raging looks and savage air?
Is that the monster without name,
Whom human art could never tame,
From _Indian_ wilds of late brought o'er,
Such as no _Briton_ saw before?
I mean the monster _P_* * * presented
To the late King, who quickly sent it,
Among his other beasts of prey,
Safe in a cage with lock and key.
Some said he was of _British_ blood,
Though taken in an _Indian_ wood.
If he should thus at large remain,
Without a keeper, cage, or chain,
Raging and roaming up and down,
He may set fire to half the town.
Has he not robb'd the _Bank?_--Behold,
In either hand, what bags of gold!
Monsters are dangerous things let loose:
Old _Cambrian_, guard thy mansion-house.

But here, what comes? A loaded car,
Stuff'd, and high pil'd, from _Temple-Bar_.
The labouring wretches hardly move
The load that totters from above.
By their wry faces, and high strains,
The cart some lumpish weight contains.
'_North Britons_--Gentlemen--come, buy,
There's no man sells so cheap as I.
Of the _North Briton_ just a score,
And twenty _Monitors_ or more,
For just one penny----
_North Britons--Monitors_--come, buy,
There's no man sells so cheap as I.'
'_North Britons! Monitors!_ be d----'d!
Is that the luggage you have cramm'd
Into your stinking cart? Be gone,
Or else I'll burn them every one.'
'Good Sir, I'm sure they are not dear,
The paper's excellent, I swear--
You can't have better any where.
Come, feel this sheet, Sir--please to choose--
They're very soft, and fit for use.
All very good, Sir, take my word--
As cheap as any can afford.
The Curate, Sir, Lord! how he'll foam!
He cannot dine 'till we get home.
The Colonel too, altho' he be
So big, so loud, so proud, d'ye see,
Will have his share as well as he.'

While on a swelling sack of cheese
The frugal _Dutchman_ sits at ease,
And smokes his pipe, and sees with joy
The flames, that all the world destroy,
Keep at a distance from his bales,
And sure thereby to raise the sales;
Good Mr. _Reynard_, wiser still,
Displays you his superior skill:
Behind the selfish miser's back,
He cuts a hole into the sack,
His paunch well cramm'd, he snugly lies,
And with himself the place supplies;
And now and then his head pops out,
To see how things go round about;
Prepar'd to run, or stand the fire,
Just as occasion may require,
But willing in the sack to stay,
And cram his belly while he may,
Regardless of the babbling town,
And every interest but his own.

On yonder plain behold a riddle,
That mighty warrior with his fiddle,
With sneering nose, and brow so arch,
A-scraping out the _German_ march;
_Bellona_ leading up the dance,
With flaming torch, and pointed lance,
And all the _Furies_ in her train,
Exulting at the martial strain;
Pale _Famine_ bringing up the rear,
To crown with woe the wasteful year.
There's nought but scenes of wretchedness.
Horror and death, and dire distress,
To mark their footsteps o'er the plains,
And teach the world what mighty gains
From _German_ victories accrue
To th' vanquish'd and the victors too.
The fidler, at his ease reclin'd,
Enjoys the woes of human kind;
Pursues his trade, destroys by rules,
And reaps the spoils of Knaves and Fools.
* * * * _Multa desunt._

The first impressions of this print may be known by the following distinction. The smoke just over the Dove is left white; and the whole of the composition has a brilliancy and clearness not to be found in the copies worked off after the plate was retouched.

I am told that _Hogarth_ did not undertake this political print merely _ex officio_, but through a hope the salary of his appointment as Serjeant Painter would be increased by such a show of zeal for the reigning Ministry.

He left behind him a second part, on the same subject; but hitherto it has been withheld from the public. The finished Plate is in the possession of Mrs. _Hogarth_.

There seems, however, no reason why this design should be suppressed. The widow of our artist is happily independent of a court; nor can aught relative to the politics of the year 1762 be of consequence to any party now existing. Our Monarch also, as the patron of arts, would rather encourage than prevent the publication of a work by _Hogarth_, even though it should recall the disagreeable ideas of faction triumphant, and a favourite in disgrace.

[1] 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 _l._ The bellows may signify his well-meaning, 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 negociating what she lost in fighting. The fine gentleman at the window with his garretteers, and the barrow of periodical papers, refer 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 œconomy 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. _Windham_, published "A Plan of Discipline for the Use of the _Norfolk_ Militia," 4to. 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 uncivilized 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 shewing 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_.

3. _T. Morell_, S. T. P., S. S. A. _W. Hogarth delin. James Basire sculp._ From a drawing returned to Mr. _Hogarth_. Of this plate there is an admirable copy, though it has not yet been extensively circulated.

4. _Henry Fielding_, ætatis 48. _W. Hogarth delin. James Basire sculp._ From a drawing with a pen made after the death of Mr. _Fielding_. "That gentleman," says Mr. _Murphy_, "had often promised to sit to his friend _Hogarth_, for whose good qualities and excellent genius he always entertained so high an esteem, that he has left us in his writings many beautiful memorials of his affection. Unluckily, however, it so fell out that no picture of him was ever drawn; but yet, as if it was intended that some traces of his countenance should be perpetuated, and that too by the very artist whom our author preferred to all others, after Mr. _Hogarth_ had long laboured to try if he could bring out any likeness of him from images existing in his own fancy, and just as he was despairing of success, for want of some rules to go by in the dimensions and outlines of the face, Fortune threw the grand _desideratum_ in the way. A lady, with a pair of scissars, had cut a profile, which gave the distances and proportions of his face sufficiently to restore his lost ideas of him. Glad of an opportunity of paying his last tribute to the memory of an author whom he admired, Mr. _Hogarth_ caught at this outline with pleasure, and worked, with all the attachment of friendship, till he finished that excellent drawing which stands at the head of this work, and recalls to all, who have seen the original, a corresponding image of the man." Notwithstanding this authentic relation of Mr. _Murphy_, a different account of the portrait has been lately given in one of the news-papers. Mr. _Garrick_, it is there said, dressed himself in a suit of his old friend's cloaths, and presented himself to the painter in the attitude, and with the features, of _Fielding_. Our _Roscius_, however, I can assert, interfered no farther in this business than by urging _Hogarth_ to attempt the likeness, as a necessary adjunct to the edition of _Fielding's_ works. I am assured that our artist began and finished the head in the presence of his wife and another lady. He had no assistance but from his own memory, which, on such occasions, was remarkably tenacious.[1]

[1] To this sketch so great justice was done by the engraver, that Mr. _Hogarth_ declared he did not know his own drawing from a proof of the plate before the ornaments were added. This proof is now in the collection of Mr. _Steevens_.

* * * * *

1763.

1. _John Wilkes_, Esq. _Drawn from the life, and etched in aquafortis by Wm. Hogarth._ Price 1_s_. It was published with the following oblique note. This is "a direct contrast to a print of SIMON LORD LOVAT."[1]

Mr. _Wilkes_, with his usual good humour, has been heard to observe, that he is every day growing more and more like his portrait by _Hogarth_.

In the second impressions of this plate there are a few slight variations, sufficient at least to shew that the face of the person represented had been retouched. I have been told, by a copper-plate printer, that near 4000 copies of this caricature were worked off on its first publication. Being kept up for two or three following nights on the occasion, he has reason to remember it.

[1] The original drawing, which was thrown by _Hogarth_ into the fire, was snatched out of it by Mrs. _Lewis_, and is now in the possession of Mr. _S. Ireland_.

2. The Bruiser _C. Churchill_,[1] in the character of a _Russian Hercules_, &c. The _Russian Hercules_ was thus explained, in _August_, 1763, by an admirer of _Hogarth_: "The principal figure is a _Russian Bear_ (i. e. Mr. _Churchill_) with a club in his left paw, which he hugs to his side, and which is intended to denote his friendship to Mr. _Wilkes_: on the notches of the club are wrote, _Lye_ 1, _Lye_ 2, &c. signifying the falsities in _The North Briton_: in his other paw is a gallon pot of porter, of which (being very hot) he seems going to drink: round his neck is a clergyman's band, which is torn, and seems intended to denote the bruiser. The other figure is a _Pug-dog_, which is supposed to mean Mr. _Hogarth_ himself, pissing with the greatest contempt on the epistle wrote to him by _C. Churchill_. In the centre is a prison begging-box, standing on a folio, the title of which is, _Great George-Street. A list of the Subscribers to the_ North Briton: underneath is another book, the title of which is, _A New Way to pay Old Debts, a Comedy, by_ Massinger. All of which allude to Mr. _Wilkes's_ debts, to be defrayed by the subscriptions to _The North Briton_."

The same design is thus illustrated by a person who thought somewhat differently of our artist: "The _Bear_, with the shattered band, represents the former strength and abilities of Mr. _Hogarth_: the full pot of beer likewise shews that he was in a land of plenty. The stump of a headless tree with the notches, and on them wrote _Lye_, 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 the tree only being left, shews 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_ pissing upon Mr. _Churchill's_ epistle, alludes to the present state of Mr. _Hogarth_; that he is arrived at such an age to be reduced so low, as, from the strength of a _Bear_, to a blind _Butcher's Dog_, not able to distinguish, but pissing upon his best friend; 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 the 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 shew his necessity, and that a book, entitled _A List of the 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 some of his old tools in this print, without any hand to use them."

On the same occasion were published the following verses, "on Mr. _Hogarth's_ last delicate performance:"

"What Merit could from native Genius boast,
To civilize the age, and please us most,
In lasting images each scene to grace,
And all the soul to gather in the face,
In one small sheet a volume to conceal,
Yet all the story finely to reveal,
Was once the glory of our _Hogarth's_ name;
But see, the short-liv'd eminence of fame
Now dwindles like the exit of a flame,
From which when once the unctuous juice is fled,
A stinking vapour rises in its stead:
So drops our Painter in his later day,
His former virtue worn, alas! away,
What busy dæmon, for thy cursed design'd,
Could thus induce the rancour of thy mind
To strike so boldly, with an impious hand,
Against the blessings of thy native land?
Open and unabash'd thy fury flies,
And all regard for liberty denies.

"When _Catiline_, with more than human hate,
Resolv'd the ruin of the _Roman_ state,
In secret he pursu'd the hellish plan,
Nor did his wickedness survive the man.
His cruel arts are all by others shown,
And thou the brave assertor of thy own:
Nay, thy grim sheets thy principles will show,
When _Charon_ wafts thee to the realms below,
Where all like thee shall unlamented go."

And also what the writer called,

"_A_ SLAP _at_ BOTH SIDES."

"Whilst _Bruin_ and _Pug_ contend for the prize
Of merit in scandal, would parties be wise,
And with honest derision contemn the dispute,
The _Bear_ would not roar, and the _Dog_ would be mute:
For they equally both their patrons betray,
No sense of Conviction their reasons convey;
So neither may hope one convert to gain,
For the Rhime makes me sick, and the Print gives me pain."[2]

This plate, however, originally contained our artist's own portrait (see p. 295). To shew the contempt in which he held the "Poetical Epistle to _Hogarth_",[3] he makes the pug-dog water on it, but in a manner by no means natural to his species. Perhaps there is the same error relative to the Monkey in the print of the _Strollers_. This kind of _evacuation_, however, appears to have been regarded by _Hogarth_ as a never-failing _joke_. On the palette he exhibits the _North Britons_, and a begging-box to collect subscriptions for them. _Designed and engraved by W. Hogarth._

In the first impression of this print three of the upper knots on the club or ragged staff (viz. 1. 3. 5.) are left white. In the second impression they are completely shaded; the ruffle on the hand that clasps the pot of porter is likewise hatched over, and the shoulder of the animal made rounder. Minute differences occur in the other knots, &c. The inscription, instead of _Russian_, reads _Modern_ Hercules.