UJtanv j/A- hj Tyv^v' ' JLijlE '*" Lay -ffi, 7»»Sfc .3 > A , I' SfedSn'i i M J* ; 2 f ;j'v]. A 1§ W\ 'Ate 5 JB /* "" Bj 005$$ & 1 «A v™ RW "JfJ 1 iv ESSE A yi ‘ ^§SbrwmL' ' jJ^' THE WORKS OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, INCLUDING THE ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY, IN NINETY COPPER-PLATE ENGRAVINGS, WITH DESCRIPTIONS, CRITICAL, MORAL, AND HISTORICAL ; dfatmtaif on flje most ^pprofotf gutfjortfoS. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL, I. Hcmtf0u : BLACK AND ARMSTRONG, WELLINGTON STREET NORTH, STRAND. 1837. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. PAGE Some Account of William Hogarth 1 33 Hogarth Elucidated INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. Plate I. The Fellow-’Prentices at their Looms . II. The Industrious ’Prentice performing the Duty of a Christian III. The Idle ’Prentice at play in the Church-Yard during Divine Service IV. The Industrious ’Prentice a Favourite, and entrusted by his Master V. The Idle ’Prentice turned away and sent to Sea VI. The Industrious ’Prentice out of his time, and married to his Master’s Daughter VII. The Idle ’Prentice returned from Sea, and in a Garret with a common Prostitute . VIII. The Industrious ’Prentice grown rich, and Sheriff of London . IX. The Idle ’Prentice betrayed by a Prostitute, and taken in a Night-Cellar with his Accomplice . X. The Industrious ’Prentice Alderman of London; the Idle one brought before him, and im- peached by his Accomplice • XI. The Idle ’Prentice executed at Tyburn XII. The Industrious ’Prentice Lord Mayor of London . 34 36 37 39 41 43 45 47 49 51 54 57 Plate I. THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. . 60 Vlll CONTENTS. Plate HI. . IV. . V. . VI. . THE RAKE’S PROGRES Plate I. .... . II III IV V VI VII ’ VIII. Southwark Fair .... MARRIAGE A LA MODE Plate I. II Ill IV. .... V. . . VI. PAGE . 68 . *71 . 75 . 77 . 81 . 85 . 89 . 92 . 95 . 98 . 101 . 104 . 107 . 114 . 117 . 119 . 122 . 125 . 126 The Lecture The Cock-pit Royal THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. Plate I. Morning II. Noon . i . , III. Evening IV. Night ...... The Distressed Poet The Enraged Musician .... Roast Beef at the Gate of Calais . Midnight Modern Conversation Mr. Garrick in the Character of Richard III. . 129 . 130 . 133 . 135 . 137 . 140 . 142 . 144 . 148 . 151 . 158 PREFACE. The unrivalled excellency of Hogarth’s pictures has too long been acknowledged, noiv to require any additional commendation. The reasons for offering this new impression to the public are, briefly, the following. In the first place, the artist, editor, and pro- prietors, beg leave to observe, that the very high price at which the best editions of Hogarth’s works are sold, must necessarily preclude many from the acquisition of them ; while the impossi- bility of procuring the earlier copies of the plates (originally published at a moderate expense), can- not but have a similar tendency. Secondly, the very inferior impressions, given in some editions of Hogarth, exhibit only an IV PREFACE. inadequate idea of the intended designs ; although the descriptions which accompany them unques- tionably deserve a more handsome garb. The editor and proprietors advert more immediately to the late Mr. John Ireland’s edition, whose obser- vations on Hogarth are very far above any com- mendation they can bestow : but the plates are of very inferior execution : they originally accom- panied Dr. Trusler’s narrative, and were merely retouched for Mr. Ireland’s work. Thirdly, even the more recent impression of our admired painter’s works, under the direction of Mr. Nichols, excellent as it confessedly is in many instances, yet, from its extended plan of publication, is inaccessible to many purchasers The proprietors therefore apprehended, that there was ample room for offering the edition now completed. It were unnecessary, and perhaps invidious, to review the different illustrations of Hogarth which have hitherto been circulated. Let it suffice to say, that the editor has spared no labour in PREFACE. V searching after every the minutest information which was calculated to throw any light upon our artist’s productions. Of Lord Orford’s account of Hogarth, as well as the labours of Dr. Trusler, the late Mr. John Ireland, and Mr. Nichols, the editor has availed himself ; he has also succeeded in gleaning various anecdotes, &c. from the “ Gen- tleman’s Magazine,” and other periodical publica- tions contemporary with the painter. Trusler, it is well known, was assisted in his “ Hogarth Moralized,” by Mrs. H., the artist’s widow, and he has preserved many little traits which would have otherwise been totally lost. Dr. T.’s com- mentary is moral enough, and for the most part both dull and languid; but successive commen- tators, illustrators, and elucidators, have been more amply indebted to him than they have cared to acknowledge. A further advantage peculiar to this edition is, that it contains the whole of the celebrated “ Analysis of Beauty,” printed verbatim from the author’s own edition, the errata only being cor- rented* VI PREFACE. Lastly, to the plates themselves, the public will doubtless award their just desert. They are the production of a young artist, whom admira- tion alone of Hogarth’s consummate talents in- duced to undertake the arduous task : it is there- fore confidently hoped, that they will not only bear the test of critical investigation, but prove equal to many more expensive editions of Ho- garth’s Works. SOME ACCOUNT OF WILLIAM HOGARTH. When a man has distinguished himself by any extraordinary efforts of genius, and gained the summit of popular fame, we naturally wish to be acquainted with the most interesting circum- stances of his life and character : and even those circumstances which may be trifling in themselves, and which by no means would bear to be recorded, did they refer to persons of little fame, yet when connected with a character that hath excited our admiration, or with works that we have contem- plated with delight, they derive a kind of adven- titious consequence from their relation, and are sought after with infinitely more avidity than greater matters of lesser men.* “His works are his History,” Lord Orford has appositely remarked concerning this great * Mon. Rev. vol. LXV. p. 443. VOL. I. B 2 SOME ACCOUNT OF and original genius :* and as the design of the present volume is to elucidate the productions of his inimitable pencil, the life of Hogarth will be found, in itself, to present but few incidents comparatively which can with propriety be here recorded. William Hogarth is stated by Mr. Nichols (in his interesting “Biographical Anecdotes ”), on the authority of Dr. Burn, to have been descended from a family originally from Kirby Thore, [Kirkby Thore] in Westmoreland. Of his father we know but little, excepting that he was the third son of a honest yeoman, who possessed a small tenement in the vale of Bampton (a village distant about twelve miles from Kendal), in the same county, where, for some time, he kept a school. Coming, however, to London, and being a man of considerable learning, he was employed as a corrector of the press. A Dictionary in Latin and English, which he composed for the use of schools, still exists in MS. William was born in 1697 or 1698, according to some accounts, in the parish of St. Martin, Ludgate, but according to Mr. Nichols, in the parish of St. Bartholomew; to which Mr. N. adds, he was afterwards a benefactor, as far as lay in his power. He seems to have received no * Anecdotes of Painting, Works, vol. III. p. 458. WILLIAM HOGARTH. 3 other education than that of a mechanic, and his outset in life was unpropitious. Young Hogarth was bound apprentice to a silversmith (whose name was Gamble), of some eminence ; by whom he was confined to that branch of the trade which consists in engraving arms and ciphers upon plate. While thus employed, he gradually ac quired some knowledge of drawing ; and before his apprenticeship expired, he exhibited some talent for caricature. “He felt the impulse of genius, and that it directed him to painting^ though little apprised at that time of the mode nature had intended he should pursue.” The fol- lowing circumstance gave the first indication of the talents with which Hogarth afterwards proved himself to be so liberally endowed. During his apprenticeship, he set out one Sunday, with two or three companions, on an excursion to Highgate. The weather being hot, they went into a public-house ; where they had not long been, before a quarrel arose between some persons in the same room. One of the disputants struck the other on the head with a quart pot, and cut him very much. The blood running down the man’s face, together with his agony from the wound (which had distorted his features into a most hideous grin), presented Hogarth with too laughable a subject to be over- looked. He drew out his pencil, and produced on b 2 4 SOME ACCOUNT OF the spot one of the most ludicrous figures that ever was seen. What made this piece the more valuable was, that it exhibited an exact likeness of the man, with a portrait of his antagonist, and the figures in caricature, of the principal persons gathered round him. On the expiration of his apprenticeship, he entered into the academy in St. Martin’s Lane, and studied drawing from the life ; but in this his proficiency was inconsiderable ; nor would he ever have surpassed mediocrity as a painter, if he had not penetrated through external form to cha- racter and manners. “ It was character, passions, the soul, that his genius was given him to copy.” The engraving of arms and shop-bills seems to have been his first employment, to obtain a decent livelihood. He was, however, soon engaged in decorating books, and furnished sets of plates for several publications of the time. An edition of Hudibras afforded him the first subject suited to his genius ; yet he felt so much the shackles of other men’s ideas, that he was less successful in this task than might have been expected. In the meantime, he had attained the use of the brush as well as of the pen and graver ; and, possessing a singular facility in seizing a likeness, he acquired considerable employment as a portrait painter. Shortly after his marriage (which will presently be noticed) he informs us WILLIAM HOGARTH. 5 that he commenced painter of small conversation pieces, from twelve to fifteen inches in height ; the novelty of which caused them to succeed for a few years. One of the earliest productions of this kind, which distinguished him as a painter, is supposed to have been a representation of Wanstead Assembly: the figures in it were drawn from the life, and without burlesque. The faces were said to bear great likenesses to the persons so drawn, and to be rather better colored than some of his more finished performances. Grace, however, was no attribute of his pencil ; and he was more disposed to aggravate, than to soften, the harsh touches of nature. A curious anecdote is recorded of our artist during the early part of his practice as a portrait painter. A nobleman, who was uncommonly ugly and deformed, sat for his picture, which was executed in his happiest manner, and with singu- larly rigid fidelity. The peer, disgusted at this counterpart of his dear self, was not disposed very readily to pay for a reflector that would only insult him with his deformities. After some time had elapsed, and numerous unsuccessful applica- tions had been made for payment, the painter resorted to an expedient, which he knew must alarm the nobleman’s pride. He sent him the following card : — “ Mr. Hogarth’s dutiful respects to Lord , finding that he does not mean to 6 SOME ACCOUNT OF have the picture which was drawn for him, is informed again of Mr. Hogarth’s pressing neces- sities for the money. If therefore, his lordship does not send for it in three days, it will be dis- posed of, with the addition of a tail and some other appendages, to Mr. Hare , the famous wild- beast-man ; Mr. H. having given that gentleman a conditional promise for it, for an exhibition picture, on his lordship’s refusal.” This intima- tion had its desired effect : the picture was paid for, and committed to the flames.* “Hogarth’s talents, however, for original comic design, gradually unfolded themselves, and various public occasions produced displays of his ludicrous powers.” In the year 1730, he clandestinely married the only daughter of Sir James Thornhill,! the * Nichols’ Anecdotes, p. 24, 4to. edit. f This distinguished painter was a native of Melcombe-Regis, in the county of Devon, where he was born in 1675 or 1676. Being attached to the study of the fine arts, he applied himself sedulously to that of painting, which he practised with great success. He was appointed serjeant-painter by Queen Anne, by whom (as well as by Prince George of Denmark,) he was patronized. In 1719-20, he was appointed serjeant-painter to king George I. who soon after knighted him. Sir James Thorn- hill continued in extensive professional practice for several years - His character ( supposed to he written by Hogarth himself') is thu s described in the fourth volume of the Gentleman’s Magazine (for May, 1734.) WILLIAM HOGARTH. 7 painter, who was not easily reconciled to her union with an obscure artist, as Hogarth then [April 13, died] “Sir James Thornhill, knight, the greatest history-painter this kingdom ever produced: witness his elaborate works in Greenwich Hospital, the cupola in St. Paul’s, the altar- piece of All-Souls College, in Oxford, and in the church of Weymouth, where he was born: a ceiling in the palace of Hampton Court, by order of the late earl of Halifax: his other works shine in divers other noblemen’s and gentlemen s houses. His later years were employed in copying the rich cartoons of Raphael, in the gallery of Hampton Court, which, though in decay, will be revived by his curious pencil, not only in their full proportions, but in many other sizes and shapes he in the couise of years had drawn them. He was chosen representative in the two last parliaments for Weymouth: [Mr. Noble says, Melcombe- Regis , for which last he sat in 1722 and 1727,] and having by his own industry acquired a considerable estate, repurchased the seat of his ancestors, which he re-edified and embellished. He was not only by patents appointed history-painter to their late and present majesties [Queen Anne and George I.], but serjeant- painter, by which he was to paint all the royal palaces, coaches, barges, and the royal navy. This late patent he surrendered in favor of his only son, John Thornhill, Esq. He left no other issue but one daughter, now the wife of Mr. William Hogarth, admired for his curious miniature conversation-paintings. Sii James has left a most valuable collection of pictures and other curiosities, and died in the 57th (58th) year of his age.” Gent. Mag. vol. IV. p. 274. Some account of the family of Thornhill (which was originally settled at the place of that name in the county of Dorset) may be found in Hutchins’s ‘ History of Dorsetshire,’ vol. I. pp. 410, 413, and vol. II. pp. 185, 246, 451, 452. Lord Orford has given a portrait of this celebrated artist, in his Anecdotes of Painters (Works, vol. III. p. 417), by Brotherton. Another, painted by Highmore, and engraved by Faber, was published in 1732; beside 8 SOME ACCOUNT OF comparatively was. Shortly after, he commenced his first great series of moral paintings, “ The Harlot’s Progress some of these were, at Lady Thornhill’s suggestion, designedly placed by Mrs. Hogarth in her father’s way, in order to reconcile him to her marriage. Being in- formed by whom they were executed. Sir James observed, “ The man who can produce such representations as these, can also maintain a wife without a portion.” He soon after how- ever, relented, and became generous to the young couple, with whom he lived in great harmony until his death, which took place in 1733. In 1733, his genius became conspicuously known. The third scene of The Harlot’s Pro- gress introduced him to the notice of the great at a Board of Treasury (which was held a day or two after the appearance of that print), a copy of it was shown by one of the lords, as containing among other excellences, a striking likeness of Sir John Gonson, a celebrated magistrate of that day well known for his rigor towards women of the town. It gave universal satisfaction. From the treasury each lord repaired to the print-shop for a copy of it : and Hogarth rose completely into fame. which, two others may be seen, one in D’Argenville’s “ Peintres,” and two in M. S. Ireland’s “ Graphic Illustrations of Hogarth .” Noble’s Continuation of Granger’s Biographical History of Eng-. WILLIAM HOGARTH. 9 Upwards of twelve hundred subscribers entered their names for the plates, which were copied and imitated on fan mounts, and in a variety of other forms ; and a pantomime taken from them was represented at the theatre. This performance, together with several subsequent ones of a similar kind, have placed Hogarth in the rare class of original geniuses and inventors. He may be said to have created an entirely new species of painting, which may be termed the moral comic ; and may be considered, rather as a writer of comedy with a pencil, than as a painter. If catching the manners and follies of an age, living as they rise — if general satire on vices, — and ridicules familiarised by strokes of nature, and heightened by wit, — and the whole animated by proper and just expressions of the passions, — be comedy, Hogarth composed comedies as much as Moliere. Such is Lord Orford’s remark on another piece indeed (Mar- riage-a-la-Mode), more particularly; but which may justly be applied to almost every thing which he touched with his creative pencil. The ingenious, the amiable, but eccentric Lavater thus characterises the productions of Hogarth. “You must not expect much of majesty from Hogarth. This painter rose not to the level of the really beautiful : I should be tempted to call him the False Prophet of Beauty. But, what 10 SOME ACCOUNT OF inexpressible richness in the comic or moral scenes of life! No one ever better characterised mean physiognomies, the debauched manners of the dregs of the people, the excessive heightening of ridicule, the horrors of vice.”* Lord Orford has stated that it is much to Hogarth’s honor, that in so many scenes of satire, it is obvious that ill-nature did not guide his pen- cil ; and that, if he indulged his spirit of ridicule in personalities, it never ( rarely it should have been said) proceeded beyond sketches and draw- ings : his prints touched the folly, but spared the person. At an early period of his career, however, Hogarth ventured (in 1732) to attack Mr. Pope, in the plate called Taste ; which contained a view of the gate of Burlington House, with Pope white- washing it and bespattering the Duke of Chandos’ coach. This plate was intended as a satire on the poet, on Mr. Kent the architect, and the Earl * Hunter’s edit, of Lavater’s Physiognomy, vol. II. p. 414. As the French, from which the above passage is translated, is pecu- liarly animated, we subjoin it for the satisfaction of our readers. — “ II ne faut pas attrendre beaucoup de noblesse de Hogarth. Le vrait beau n’etoit guere a la portee de ce peintre, que je serois tente d’appeller le faux prophete de la beaute. Mais quelle richesse inexprimable dans les scenes comiques ou morales de la vie ! Personne n’a mieux caracterise les physionomies basses, les moeurs crapuleuse de la lie du peuple, les charges du ridicule, les horreurs de vice .”— Essai sur la Physiognomic, edit. 1783, seconde partie, p. 370. WILLIAM HOGARTH. 11 of Burlington : but Hogarth being apprehensive that the poet’s pen was as pointed as the artist’s graver, recalled the impressions, and destroyed the plate. Soon after his marriage, Hogarth resided at South Lambeth; and being intimate with Mr. Tyers, the then spirited proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, he contributed much to the impiovement of those gardens ; and (Mr. Nichols states) fiist suggested the hints of embellishing them with paintings, some of which were the productions of his own comic pencil. Among these paintings weie “ The four Parts of the Day,” either by Hogarth, or after his designs.* Two years after the publication of his " Harlot’s Progress,” appeared the “Rake’s Progress ,” which Lord Orford remarks (though perhaps superior) had not so much success from want of notoriety ; nor is the print of the arrest equal in merit to the others.” The curtain, however, was now drawn aside ; and his genius stood displayed in its full lustre. The Rake’s Progress was followed by several works in series, viz. Marriage-a-la-Mode, Industry and Idleness, the Stages of Cruelty, and Election Prints. To these may be added a great number * M. R. vol. LXV. p. 446, note f.— For this, and some other assistance, Mr. Tyers presented our artist with a gold admission ticket for himself and friends. 12 SOME ACCOUNT OF of single comic pieces, all of which present a rich source of amusement: — Such as, the March to Finchley, Modern Midnight Conversation, the Sleeping Congregation, the Gates of Calais,* Gin Lane, Beer Street, Strolling Players in a Barn, the Lecture, Laughing Audience, Enraged Musician,” &c. &c. which, being introduced and described in the subsequent part of this work, it would far ex- ceed the limits, necessarily assigned to these brief memoirs, here minutely to characterise, * The following amusing adventures are connected with this picture. Shortly after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, Hogarth went over to France ; and during his residence in that country, he expressed the most marked disapprobation of every thing he saw. Regardless of the advice of a friend, who intreated him to be more cautious in his public remarks, he treated the gentleman, who offered these prudential considerations, as a pusillanimous wretch, unworthy of residence in a free country: and made his monitor the butt of his ridicule for several evenings afterwards. At length (Mr. Nichols continues) this unreasonable pleasantry was com- pletely extinguished by an adventure which befel the artist at Calais. While he was drawing the gate of that city, he was appre- hended as a spy, and carried before the commandant, who told him, that if the treaty of peace had not actually been signed, he should have been obliged immediately to have hung him up on the ram- parts. He was then committed a prisoner to his landlord, M. Grandsire, on his promising Hogarth should not go out of the house, till he was about to embark lor England. Two guards were appointed to convey him on ship-board: nor did they quit him, till he was three miles from shore. They then spun him round like .a top on the deck, and told him he was at liberty to proceed on his voyage, without further attendance or molestation. — Nichols - ' “ Bi- ographical Anecdotes.’' WILLIAM HOGARTH. 13 All the works of this original genius are, in fact, lectures of morality. They are satires of particular vices and follies, expressed with such strength of character, and such an accumulation of minute and appropriate circumstances, that they have all the truth of nature heightened by the attractions of wit and fancy. Nothing is without a meaning, but all either conspires to the great end, or forms an addition to the lively drama of human manners. His single pieces, however, are rather to be considered as studies, not perhaps for the professional artist, but for the searcher into life and manners, and for the votary of true humor and ridicule. No fur- niture of the kind can vie with Hogarth’s prints as a fund of inexhaustible __ amusement, yet, con- veying at the same time a fund of important morality. Not contented, however, with the just reputa- tion which he had acquired in his proper depart ment, Hogarth (whose mind was not a little vain) attempted to shine in the highest branch of the art, — serious history-painting. “From a con- tempt,” says Lord Orford, “ of the ignorant virtuosi of the age, and from indignation at the impudent tricks of picture-dealers, whom he saw continually recommending and vending vile copies to bubble collectors, and from having never studied. 14 SOME ACCOUNT OF indeed having seen, few good pictures of the great Italian masters, he persuaded himself that the praises bestowed on those glorious works were nothing but the effects of prejudice. He talked this language till he believed it ; and having heard it often asserted fas is true) that time gives a mellowness to colors and improves them ; he not only denied the proposition, but maintained that pictures only grew black and worse by age, not distinguishing between the degrees in which the proposition might be true or false. He went farther : he determined to rival the ancients, and, unfortunately, chose one of the finest pictures in England as the object of his competition. This was the celebrated Sigismonda, of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the possession of the Duke of Newcastle, said to be painted by Corregio, pro- bably by Furino.” — “ It is impossible to see the picture” (continues his lordship) “or read Dry- den’s inimitable tale, and not feel that the same soul animated both. After many essays, Hogarth at last produced Ms Sigismonda, — but no more like Sigismonda than I to Hercules. Not to mention the wretchedness of the coloring, it was the representation of a maudlin strumpet, just turned out of keeping, and her eyes red with rage and usquebaugh, tearing off the ornaments her keeper had given her. To add to the disgust WILLIAM HOGARTH. 15 raised by such vulgar expression, her fingers were bloodied by her lover’s heart,* that lay before her like that of a sheep for her dinner. None of the sober grief, no dignity of suppressed anguish, no involuntary tear, no settled meditation on the fate she meant to meet, no amorous warmth turned holy by despair ; — in short, all was wanting that should have been there; — all was there, that such a story would have banished from a mind capable of conceiving such complicated woe — woe so stern- ly felt, and yet so tenderly. Hogarth’s performance was more ridiculous than any thing he had even ridiculed. He set the price of £400 on it, and had it returned on his hands by the person for whom it was painted. He took subscriptions for a plate of it, but had the sense at last to suppress it.”f This severe criticism of Lord Orford’s, has been spiritedly animadverted on by Mr. Ireland (“ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. III. p. 207). Wal- pole’s critique, he observed, did not appear till after Hogarth’s death ; but, when he states Hogarth’s performance to be more ridiculous * This circumstance has been questioned by Mr. Nichols, in his Biographical Anecdotes of our artist : but Lord Orford has replied that, at the time he saw Hogarth’s picture, when it was first painted, the fingers of gigismonda were bloody. It is net unlikely that the painter afterwards altered this part. Lord Orford’s Works, yol. III. p. 461. 16 SOME ACCOUNT OF than any thing the artist had ever ridiculed, it ceases to be criticism. The best reply to so extravagant an assertion, is the original picture now in possession of Messrs. Boydell, which, though not well colored, and rather French, is marked with mind, and would, probably, have been better, had it not been so often altered, on the suggestions of different critical friends. Adverting to this failure of Hogarth’s, the late Sn Joshua Reynolds has the following appropriate observations upon our artist : “ Who, with all his extraordinary talents, was not blessed with this knowledge of his own deficiency, or of the bounds which were set to the extent of his own powers. After this admnable artist had spent the greater part of his life in active, busy, and, we may add, successful attention to the ridicule of life after he had invented a new species of dramatic painting, in which, probably, he never will be equalled j and had stored his mind with infinite materials to explain and illustrate the domestic and familiar scenes of common life, which were generally, and ought to have been always, the subject of his pencil ; — he very imprudently, or rather presumptuously, attempted the great his- torical style, for which his previous habits had by no means prepared him : he was indeed so entirely unacquainted with the principles of this style, that he was not aware that any artificial preparation WILLIAM HOGARTH. 17 was even necessary. It is to be regretted that any part of the life of such a genius should be fruitlessly employed. Let his failure teach us not to indulge ourselves in the vain imagination, that by a momentary resolution we can give either dex- terity to the hand, or a new habit to the mind.”* It may be necessary to state, that the gentle- man for whom this picture was originally painted, was the late Earl (then Sir Richard) Grosvenor. An engraving of Hogarth’s Sigismonda, by Mr. B. Smith, was published by Messrs. Boydell, in the year 1792. A reduced copy is given in Mr. John Ireland’s Hogarth Illustrated, vol. I. p. lxxxviii. Notwithstanding Hogarth professed to decry literature, he felt an inclination to communicate to the public his ideas on a topic connected with his art : and we have now to consider our artist in the novel charac ter of an author. The following are the circumstances which led to the publication of his celebrated “ Analysis of Beauty, written with a view to fix the fluctuating ideas of taste.” Finding his prints were become sufficiently numerous to form a volume, Hogarth, in the year 1745, engraved his own portrait as a frontis- piece. In one corner of the plate he introduced * Sir Joshua Reynolds’ Works, 4th edit. vol. II. p. 164. 18 SOME ACCOUNT OF a painter s palette, on which was a waving line,, inscribed " The Line of Beauty.”* This created much curious speculation, drew upon him a nume- rous band of opponents, and involved him in so many disputes, that he at length determined to write a book, explain his system, and silence his adversaries. Accordingly, his “ Analysis of Beauty” made its appearance in one volume quarto, in the year 1753. Its leading principle is, that beauty fundamentally consists in that unioq of uniformity which is found in the curve or waving line; and that round, swelling figures are most pleasing to the eye. This principle he illustrates by many ingenious remarks and examples, and also by some plates characteristic of his genius. This work being now of rare occurrence, an accu- rate copy of it, illustrated with Hogarth’s engrav- ings, will be found in a subsequent part of this publication. In the publication of his Analysis, Hogarth acknowledges himself indebted to his friends for assistance. “ These appear” (for some difference exists in the opinion of his biographers) “ to have been Benjamin Hoadley, M. D. who corrected the language in part, (he professed not to understand the subject,!) and was succeeded by the celebrated * Ireland’s Hogarth, vol. III. p. 100. f Nichols’ Biographical Anecdotes, and Monthly Rev. (O. S.) vol. LXV. p. 448, notes. WILLIAM HOGARTH. 19 political writer, Mr. Ralph, who was a neighbour of Hogarth’s at Chiswick,* and who volunteered his friendly services on this occasion. Dr. Morell is said, by Mr. Nichols, to have completed what Mr. Ralph left unfinished ; though the learned doctor’s labors have, by others, been restricted to the translation of a single Greek passage. The Rev. Mr. Townley corrected the preface of this work; the publication of which afforded much pleasure to the author’s family, y himself : — “ Industry and Idleness exemplified in the conduct of two fellow- ’prentices ; where the one, by taking good courses, and pursuing points for which he was put apprentice, becomes a valuable man, and an orna- ment to his country; the other, by giving way to idleness, naturally falls into poverty, and ends fatally, as expressed in the last print, — And, lest any print should be mistaken, the description of each print is engraved at top.”* Such is Hogarth’s avowed design ; and, as example is far more convincing and persuasive than precept, it must be acknowledged that the prints of Industry and Idleness do, unquestionably afford to young * Mr. John Ireland’s “ Hogarth,” vol. i. p. 190, where this ' account is stated to have been copied from the Artist’s own hand- writing.— Mr. Samuel Ireland (“ Graphic Illustrations of Hogarth,” p. 154,) has given a similar, though somewhat more enlarged account. c 3 34 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. minds an admirable lesson, by setting before them that misery, shame, and destruction, which inevitably await the slothful and the vicious ; while they at the same time show the infallible reward that attends the virtuous and the diligent. The object which the Artist had in view he has certainly accomplished ; although the prints composing this series “ have” (as Lord Orford appropriately observes) “ more merit in the intention than execution.”* PLATE I. THE FELLOW ’PRENTICES AT THEIR LOOMS. JWotto. The drunkard shall come to poverty ; and drowsiness shall clothe a mans with rags.” Proverbs xiii. 21. “ The hand of the diligent maketh rich.”— Proverbs x. 4. These passages of scripture are well adapted to the moral contrast, which presents itself to our notice. f In the scene before us, two apprentices are delineated at the looms of their master, a silk-weaver of Spital- * Works, vol. rii. p. 457. j It may be proper here to state, that the texts applied to the plates of Industry and Idleness were selected by the Rev. Mr. IS BIT 8 TiRX & IDIETsE § S . INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 35 fields. The industrious youth (whose countenance is strongly expressive of serenity and benevolence) is diligently employed at his work. On the floor near him lies an open book, entitled “ The ' Prentice 1 Guide'' and on the wall behind him are pasted the celebrated old ballads of “ Turn again Whittington , lord-mayor of London” and the “ Valiant Appren- tice !" It should seem that the “ ’Prentice’s Guide” •was presented by the master of our young pupil, as the same title appears on a mutilated pamphlet lying at the feet of Thomas Idle, who is overpowered by the united strength of beer and tobacco, (as is evi- dent from the half-gallon pot and tobacco-pipe before him,) and with his arms folded, is fallen asleep ; — while the shuttle, dropping from his hands, “ becomes the plaything of a wanton kitten.” The ballad containing the history of Moll Flanders , which is also pasted over his head, indicates the de- praved turn of his mind ; his countenance at the same time, is strongly characteristic of sloth, as his dress is expressive of filthiness. The master, silently entering the room, with uplifted stick and angry countenance, gives us to understand that the conse- quence of his sloth is a present castigation ; but, if, we may judge from the physiognomy of young Idle, these vices are too deeply rooted in him to be eradi- cated by punishment. Arnold King; (Nichols’s “Hogarth,” vol. i. p. 138,) and that the mottos in verse, that will occasionally be found in the subsequent pages, were written for Hogarth by Dr. Hoadley, (son of the celebrated Bishop of Winchester,) and by others of his friends. 36 PLATE II. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE PERFORMING THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN. JUftotto. “ 0 how I love thy law ! it is ray meditation day and night.”— Psalm cxix. 97. The industrious apprentice is here represented at church, in the same pew with his master’s daughter. The countenances of young Goodchild and of Miss West have a slight resemblance, and are marked by an interesting simplicity. We behold him in this plate joining in the public service in a devout and decent manner ; to which a strong contrast is offered by the pompous female figure behind him, while the humble pew-opener and the two women contiguous to Miss West (and who are almost lost in shadow) seem to rival the powerful tones of the organ in their shrill vociferations. The men behind her, (one of whom is asleep, are contributing their deep-toned bass to this concert ; and, together with the preacher^ reader, clerk, and the listless slumbering audience, they unite in giving a humorous, not to say a bur- lesque effect to the whole scene before us. Mo garth, del? W O ir § TTTRY & ITDJUIEHE S S a 37 PLATE III. THE IDLE ’PRENTICE AT PLAY IN THE CHURCH-YARD DURING DIVINE SERVICE. JWotto. “ Judgments are prepared for scorners, and stripes for the back of fools.” Proverbs xix. 29. As the observance of religion is, confessedly, the only permanent foundation ot virtue, so the neglect of re- ligious duties has long been acknowledged to be the precursor of every kind of wickedness. Of the truth of this remark we have ocular demonstration in this third print. Here then we see the idle youth (while others are intent on sacred duties) transgressing all laws, both divine and human, gambling on a tomb- stone with the meanest of the human race. So cal- lous is his depraved heart — so wilfully blind is he to every thing tending to his future interest, that neither the surrounding tombs, nor the yawning newly-dug grave, nor the skulls (all of which are very expressive) and bones scattered about, are sufficient to awaken in his mind one serious thought. He is lying on a tomb-stone, the inscription of which (“ HERE LIES THE BODY OF ”) applies but too well to the slothful apprentice, who, having been detected in an attempt to defraud his vile com- panions, is so warmly contesting the matter with thena 38 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. as to be insensible of the approach of the vigilant Beadle, whom we see in the very act of inflicting condign punishment. The whole of this group is strikingly marked. The stern keeper of the Church’s peace has been incorporated into a group of figures by Lavater:* — the hand of the boy employed upon his head, and that of the shoe-black in his bosom, are powerfully expressive of filth and vermin ; and may also be designed to intimate, that Idle is in imminent danger of being overspread with the beg- garly contagion. * Hunter’s Edit, of “ Lavater,” vol. i. p. 163. JPILi. IT 1H1D) TETSTTKy & 3 1U>JL-1KK1K S S 39 PLATE IV. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE A FAVOURITE, AND EN- TRUSTED BY HIS MASTER. J^totto. “Well done, thou good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things.”— Matt. xxv. 21. The industrious youth having, by his discreet and steady conduct, acquired the confidence of his master, we now find him (admirably continued from the first and third prints) in the counting-house, entrusted with the books, giving and receiving orders, as is evident from the delivery of goods by a city porter from Blackwell Hall. From the keys in one hand, and the bag in the other, we may infer, that he has conducted himself with so much prudence and dis- cretion, and has given to his employer such proofs of fidelity, as now to become the keeper of untold gold. The integrity of his heart is visible on his face ; and the modesty and tranquillity of his counte- nance are well calculated to show, that notwithstand- ing the ample trust reposed in him is an addition to his happiness, still he discharges his duties with so much becoming diffidence and care, as not to betray any of that pride which so frequently attends great promotion. The attitude of the master, who is 40 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. giving him some directions, is strongly expressive of his friendly regard; and their mutual union is not inappositely hinted at, by the position of the gloves on the flap of the writing-desk, which has been sup- posed covertly to intimate a speedy partnership to be in view. The head-piece to a London Almanack, Industry taking Time by the forelock, is not one of the least beauties of this plate ; and is strikingly calcu- lated to show the necessity of early and sedulous ap- plication to business. The humour of the scene (for ridicule enters into almost every thing that Hogarth touched with his comic pencil) is not a little augmented by the pimpled face of the city-porter, who is entering with a bale of goods, accompanied by a mastiff, and by the contest between the latter and the house-cat for admittance. The animals are ill-drawn, and seem to be introduced merely to fill up the piece ; the perspective also is incorrect; but these little blemishes are lost in the gradual development of this excellent moral drama, which is carried on with much spirit. Hogarth, del? IKBITSTTRY &> 1BI£H£§3 41 PLATE V. THE IDLE ’PRENTICE TURNED AWAY, AND SENT TO SEA. J¥totto. “ A foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.” — Proverbs x. 1; Still persevering in vicious habits, the idle apprentice, having tired out the patience of his benevolent em- ployer, is sent to sea ; in the hope that, being removed alike from the city and from his dissipated companions, he might be reclaimed by the discipline and hard ser- vice of a maritime life. We now behold him in the ship’s boat, making towards the vessel in which he is to embark. The attitudes and physiognomies of the different figures in the boat indicate with sufficient plainness the subject of their discourse, which is con- cerning his idleness. In the back ground is a gibbet with a figure suspended, to which the waterman is pointing his attention, as emblematical of his future fate ; while a boy, tapping him on the shoulder with one hand, presents a cat-o’-nine-tails, as a specimen of the salutary discipline in use on board a man-of- war. This is returned by young Idle, holding up two fingers of his left hand in the form of horns, supposed to have been dictated to him by the place in the river which they have just passed, and which from this 42 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. circumstance is known to be Cuckolds' Point. His forfeited indentures he has thrown into the river with an air of contempt, regardless both of his present condition, and of the affectionate persuasions of his afflicted widowed mother. The group of figures composing this print, has been copied by the ingenious Lavater ; with whose appro- priate remarks we conclude our present description “ Observe,” says this great analyst of the human countenance, “ in the annexed group, that unnatural wretch, with the infernal visage, insulting his sup- plicating mother : the predominant character on the three other villain-faces, though all disfigured by ef- frontery, is cunning and ironical malignity. Every face is a seal with this truth engraved on it : Nothing MAKES A MAN SO UGLY AS VICE ; NOTHING RENDERS THE COUNTENANCE SO HIDEOUS AS VILLANY.”* * Hunter’s Edit, of “ Lavater,” vol. i. p. 163. PL;. VJ. 43 PLATE VI. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE OUT OF HIS TIME, AND MARRIED TO HIS MASTER’S DAUGHTER. Jtlotto. “ The virtuous woman is a crown to her husband.” — Proverbs xii. 4. From the joint names of West and Goodchild upon the sign, we learn that the industry and fidelity of the attentive youth are crowned with success, and that he has been taken into partnership by his master ; who has further given his daughter in marriage. By the young man’s appearance in his gown and cap the time is evidently morning; and from the popu- lace assembled round the house, it is the morning after his nuptials. His benevolence and liberality here also are displayed, by a servant distributing the remnants of the table, while the bridegroom is pay- ing the master-drummer for the noisy gratulations of himself and his comrades. In this group of figures the spirit of the different characters is well supported, in the earnestness with which one of the butchers (who is standing on the left with his marrow-bone and cleaver) is observing the fortunate drummer re- ceiving Mr. Goodchild’s bounty, — and in the anger expressed on the countenance of his fellow, who is elbowing out of the first rank the performer on the 44 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. violoncello. The cripple lying on the ground is add- ing to the clangour of this melodious English concert, by bawling out the song of “ Jesse, or the Happy Pair. This figure represents a well-known beggar in Hogarth s day, known by the name of Philip in the Tub, from the circumstance of his being reduced (through want of limbs) to drag his person about the streets in a shallow tub, as here delineated. This man . had visited Ireland and the United Provinces, was a constant attendant at all weddings, and usually received a small gratuity for his epithalamiums. Although some of the figures in this scene are de- ficient in proportion, yet the interest of the whole is well supported ; and a near view of the Monument is not inappositely introduced, to shew our hero’s re- sidence to be in the vicinity of that noble column. IJfDDSmr &: llDJiE? 45 PLATE VII. THE IDLE ’PRENTICE RETURNED FROM SEA, AND IN A GARRET WITH A COMMON PROSTITUTE. JWotto. “ The sound of a shaken leaf shall chase him.” — Leviticus xxvi. 36. The Idle Apprentice is advancing with rapid strides towards his fate. We here behold him returned from sea after a long voyage, in a wretched garret with a common prostitute. Disgusted with a maritime life, and also (we may infer) with the correction which his vicious habits had deservedly brought upon him, he has returned to London, with a determination to follow some other course. The nature of his present pursuits is evident from the watches, trinkets, pistols, &.c. lying upon, and beside the crazy bedstead. Pie has acquired them by robbery on the highway. In this scene we have an admirable picture of the horrors of a guilty conscience : — how strong a contrast to the honest simplicity, benevolence, and tranquillity displayed on the countenance of his fellow-apprentice, which we have already had occasion to notice ! — Though the door is double bolted, and barricadoed with planks from the floor, to prevent surprise ; — and notwithstanding he has attempted to expel thought 46 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. by the powerful effect of spirituous liquors, evident from the glass and bottle upon the floor;— still he cannot secure himself against the terrors of his guilty conscience. The circumstance of a cat dropping down the ruinous chimney, together with the falling of a few bricks, is sufficient to create unutterable horrors. Mark him, starting in his bed, and all the tortures of his mind imprinted on his face ; — his hair standing on end, and his teeth chattering with dis- may. This accident, however, makes but little impres- sion on his companion in iniquity, who indifferent to every thing but the plunder, is contemplating with delight a glittering ear-ring. The phials on the shelf over the fire-place, indicate that sickness and disease are the certain attendants of her wretched life ; while the miserable furniture, the hole in the wall as a sub- stitute for a window (by whose light she is examining her iniquitous acquisition) the precipitate retreat of the rat, on grimalkin’s abrupt entrance, — all concur to strike the eye of the observant spectator. The intro- duction of the lady’s hoop, which seems to have been hung up in order to exclude the cold) is apposite, and affords a good specimen of the preposterous fashion of former days ; — a fashion which, excepting on a few extraordinary occasions, has at length given way to a mode of dressing far more consistent with nature and decorum. .OHD US TRY & IBU1SESS. 47 PLATE VIII. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE GROWN RICH, AND SHERIEP OF LONDON. JWotto. “ With all thy gettings, get understanding. Exalt her, and she shall pro- mote thee ; she shall bring thee to honour, when thou dost embrace her.” Proverbs iv. 7, 8. The progress of virtue and vice, together with their consequent rewards and punishments, have hitherto kept even pace with each other. We have traced the slothful and abandoned Idle through various scenes of folly and of vice, and at last find him harassed and tormented by guilty apprehensions; while his faithful and diligent fellow-apprentice, having become respect- able and opulent, has attained the dignity of sheriff of London ; and, in the print before us, is feasting the liverymen of his company at their hall. This scene is laid in Fishmongers’ Hall, which is decorated with a portrait of William III., a judge, and a full-length of the illustrious hero, Sir William Wal- worth ; in commemoration of whose valour the weapon with which he slew Wat Tyler was introduced into the city arms. His effigies still remain in the hall above mentioned, with the following quaint and memo- rable inscription beneath : — “ Brave Walworth, knight, lord mayor, that slew Rebellious Tyler in his alarms ; The King therefore did give in lieu The Dagger to the city arms.”* * Ireland's “ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. i.p. 213: vol.iii. p. 3S3. 48 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. Hogarth has, in this print, given full scope to his humorous and sarcastic genius, in the various charac- ters he has grouped together. The figure in black, at the end of the table, is famine personified ; to which a strong contrast is offered in the person of the fat citizen, with a napkin fastened to his button-hole; and who seems to have burnt his mouth by his vora- cious eagerness to participate in the good things set before him. Not less w'orthy of note is the reverend gentleman near him, who is swallowing his soup with as high a relish as the gentleman next him experiences in his wine. The backs of the figures in the back ground are delineated in the costume of the day, with bag-wigs, tie-wigs, kc. kc. and contribute not a little to the comical effect of the whole. Two other objects remain to be noticed: the first is, the beadle perusing the direction of a letter to “ The Worshipful Francis Goodchild, Esq. Sheriff of London. The self-consequence of this underling of office (snuffing up his nose with sovereign contempt of the group before him), is well contrasted by the humble deportment of the lank-haired wight behind *.he bar; whom we may suppose to be a delinquent brought to justice by the crowd that accompany him. To complete the piece, the gallery is filled with musicians, who are actively occupied in the production of sweet sounds, to recreate the good citizens during their entertainment. 49 PLATE IX. THE IDLE ’PRENTICE BETRAYED BY A PROSTITUTE, AND TAKEN IN A NIGHT-CELLAR WITH HIS ACCOMPLICE. JUtotto. “ The adultress will hunt for the precious life.” — Proverbs vi. 26. From the picture of diligence and its consequent re- ward, we return to take a view of the progress of sloth and infamy, together with tlieir certain consequence , punishment. The scene before us is laid in the cellar of a house in Chick Lane, Smithfield ; which at the time of publishing these prints (the year 1747) went by the name of the blood-bowl house. It received this appellation from the various sanguinary transac- tions there carried on, and was a notorious receptacle for villains of the deepest die; a month rarely passing without the commission of some act of murder. In a night-cellar of this house, our hero is repre- sented in company with a one-eyed accomplice (whom the attentive observer will recognize to be one of his associates in the third print,) dividing the booty which had been acquired by robbery, followed, it should also seem, by murder. In the midst of this villanous employment, he is betrayed by his favourite female (the same in whose garret we saw him in plate VII.) to the high-constable and his attendants, who have D 50 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. succeeded in tracing the murderer to his haunt. The police-officers are in the very act of enterings while the body of the murdered gentleman is let down into a hole, made in this subterraneous place of iniquity, for the purpose of concealment. The back-ground of this horrid scene is perfectly in unison with the more prominent objects. All is riot and confusion ; and the contrast is very strongly marked between the noseless woman with a jug in her hand, and the furious combatants who are wielding chairs, shovel, &c. with horrible dexterity: their contest, however, does not seem to have disturbed either the fellow who is asleep, or the smoking gre- nadier. The cards, scattered on the floor, (one of which is torn), are perhaps designed to show that gambling was one of the amusements exercised in this infernal mansion, and (together with the rope suspended over the head of the sleeping figure just noticed), afford a striking proof of Hogarth’s attention to minutiee. ■TcT IlfjDIUSTBT & iDjLES 51 PLATE X. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE ALDERMAN OF LONDON ; THE IDLE ONE BROUGHT BEFORE HIM, AND IMPEACHED BY HIS ACCOMPLICE. jWotto. Thou shalt do no unrighteousness in judgment.” — Leviticus xix. 15. “ The wicked is snared in the work of his own hands.” — Psalm ix. 16. From the shrievalty, the industrious apprentice has advanced one step higher in civic dignity : we now behold him an alderman, and in course acting as a magistrate. In this capacity, the idle apprentice is brought before him, strongly hand-cuffed, and charged with the two-fold crimes of robbery and murder, by the one-eyed miscreant noticed in the last print, who has turned evidence against him. He is here at the bar, with all the marks of conscious guilt imprinted on his countenance: torn by remorse, the accused stands trembling with agony, and (were he not supported by the bar) he would be unable to support himself. In the person of the alderman, we see the strug- gle between mercy and justice admirably displayed. Shocked at the sight of one who had been the com- panion of his youth, under such circumstances, he is d 2 52 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. reclining his averted head on his left hand to conceal the emotions of his soul ; while the other hand is ex- tended in a manner expressive both of pity and of shame — of pity for the situation of his fellow-appren- tice — of shame to think that human nature should be so depraved. “The concern,” Lord Orford has justly remarked, “ shewn by the Lord Mayor, when the companion of his childhood is brought before him as a criminal, is a touching picture, and big with human admonition and reflection.” The mother of our delinquent, in an agony of dis- tress, is intreating the consequential constable to exert his interest in her son’s behalf : he seems to listen to her supplications, and apparently replies, with up-lifted hand, and with all the sternness of inflexible justice — “ TV e , who are in office, must execute the laws!” — A crowd of watchmen are in attendance, one of whom is holding up a sword and a pair of pistols which had been found on the culprit’s person. A young woman is bribing the clerk, whose office it is to administer the oath, to swear the one-eyed wretch, who has turned evidence, with his left hand laid on the Gospels ; this upright officer of justice stands with uncommon impudence, having stuck his pen behind his ear, in order that his right hand may be at liberty to receive the bribe : a sacrifice this, of sacred things to the inordinate love of gain, which, for the honour of the British character, one would hope has long since ceased. — “ Yet,” says Mr. Ire- land, “ I have been told that the dealers in perjury at Westminster Hall, as well as the Old Bailey, con- INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 53 sider this little circumstance as a complete salvo for false swearing* !” One object more remains to be noticed : it is the alderman’s clerk making out the mittimus of Thomas Idle, directed to the turnkey of Newgate ; whence we shall soon see him drawn to the place of execution, there to receive the punishment denounced on mur- derers by the violated laws of his country. * Ireland’s “ Hogarth Illustrated.” vol. i. p. 217, note. To this we may add the abominable practice resorted to by many of the lower classes at courts of kissing the thumb, under the pretext of kissing the book ; and this vile fraud, they persuade themselves, is an innocent and satisfactory evasion ! Be it, however, remem- bered, that an inspired writer has said — “ A false witness shall not be unpunished : and he that speaketh lies shall not escape." Prov. xix. 5. 9. 54 PLATE XI. THE IDLE ’PRENTICE EXECUTED AT TYBURN. JfHotto. “ When fear cometh as desolation, and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when distress cometh upon them, then shall they call upon God, but he will not answer.”— Proverbs i. 27, 28. The career of our lost and degraded hero at kngth terminates at Tyburn.* His ghastly look, and the horror delineated in his countenance, evidently describe the dreadful situation of his mind, agitated with shame, remorse, confusion, and terror. The procession is led, as was usual, by the ordinary of Newgate, whom we see carelessly seated in a coach : while an itinerant minister is delineated in the cart with the wretched criminal, whom he earnestly exhorts to repentance. Hogarth has, in this scene, rather digressed from the principal subject; and has, with singular humour, given a pretty accurate view of the confusion that usually prevailed at executions, before * It may be necessary, perhaps, now to inform our juvenile readers, that this place is a small village, in the outskirts of the metropolis, near the north side of Hyde Park, whither criminals were formerly conducted for execution. The memory of this transaction is at present chiefly preserved by the circumstance of persons (who prosecute a felon to conviction) receiving a certifi- cate that exempts them from the execution of certain civil offices ; which certificate is called a Tyburn ticket. .rr,. 2\ 'L , JBnOUJ^TjRX & ITOLEOTS S © . INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 55 the present mode of finishing the sentence of the law was adopted. On the left side of the print, a boy is in the act of picking the pocket, and at the same time is earnestly watching the motions of a vender of gingerbread, at that time well known by the name of Tiddy-Doll , from the burthen of the song he usually sang in com- mendation of his cakes. Another young stripling is at his elbow, waiting to receive the plunder. Close by this group, an orange-woman is actively exer- cising her talons upon the eyes of a luckless wight who has upset her barrow. In the cart behind we recognise the mother of the unhappy Idle, whom a benevolent female attempts to console. Above her, in another cart, is a curious group of females ; one of whom is drinking a glass of geneva, and at the same time sanctimoniously breathing out a hypocritical ejaculation. A glass is handing up to the young woman next her, from below, while a fellow is inde- cently helping up a girl into the same cart. To the right of the print is a soldier who has stept up to his knees in a ditch, for no very honourable purpose, to the woman before him, at which two urchins are making themselves not a little merry. In the centre, a female boxer, intent upon punish- ing a man who had incurred her displeasure, has dropped her infant ; which is in imminent danger of being trampled, under foot. Next her is an inhabitant (probably) of St. Giles’s, in the act of throwing a dog at the itinerant minister ; and close to him ig a Grub Street oratrix, vociferating the last dying speech and confession of Thomas Idle, printed the day before 56 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. his execution ; a circumstance that cannot but add to the horrors of his mind in the prospect of eternity. Near this vocal performer, a tall butcher has sus- pended a lawyer’s wig at the end of his cudgel ; which has been thought covertly to intimate the sanguinary complexion of our laws. It only remains to notice the carrier-pigeon, (bred at Newgate) which it was then customary to send home, in order to give notice to the keeper of the prison of the execution of the criminal; the bird is just let fly from the gallery on the left for this pur- pose. The executioner, smoking his pipe on the gib- bet, forcibly shews how little concern the melancholy business makes upon him ; and affords an additional proof that the frequency of such spectacles is calcu- lated to produce a gradual, but certain, and at length an utter, insensibility in the human breast. The initials on the coffin “ I. T.” have been reversed in all the engravings from the original drawing. They should have been T. I. for Thomas Idle. The back ground presents a view of Hampstead and Highgate hills. Most of the figures delineated in this scene are ex- cellently expressed. The late Kev. Mr. Gilpin (whose opinion of Hogarth we have already had occasion to cite), truly observes, “We seldom see a crowd more beautifully managed than in this print.” • — - USTJID UT S TIRES' 3c IBILIBMSS 57 PLATE XII. THE INDUSTRIOUS ’PRENTICE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON. JWotto. “ Length of days is in her right-hand, and in her left-hand riches and honour.” — Proverbs iii. 16. We cheerfully turn from the melancholy spectacle last described, to consider the concluding scene of this moral drama. The industrious apprentice has attained the highest honour which the city could bestow, that of being lord mayor of London. In this, as in the eleventh plate, Hogarth has in- dulged his usual humour, by exhibiting the low, rather than the more splendid parts of this civic pageant. The scene is laid at the east side of St. Paul’s Cathedral? just turning into Cheapside; and in a balcony, to the left of the print, the artist has introduced his late Majesty’s parents, the Prince and Princess of Wales, as spectators of the show. A group of the most laughable figures is collected on the scaffolding be- neath ; where a young fellow is in the act of saluting a fair nymph, whose manner indicates not the most cordial reception. Below is a blind man, who has straggled in among the crowd, and is joining in the general halloo : and before him is one of the ciiy militia, so completely intoxicated as to be insensible what he is doing. This, in fact, is a continuation of the satire levelled in the present scene at the city militia; a detachment of whom is introduced, con- sisting of ill-disciplined men of every age, size, and condition ; fat, lean, tall, short, crooked, lame ; and d 3 58 INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. all in general so unused to firelocks, that they know not how to carry them ; one is in the act of firing off his piece, and at the same time turns his head another way ! They are indeed most whimsically, yet cha- racteristically, delineated. The most prominent figure in the mayor’s coach is the city sword-bearer, arrayed in the costume which he now wears on the same festive occasion. The car- riage is surrounded by a company of butchers, whose concerto on marrow-bones and cleavers contributes not a little to the noise and confusion which are here represented. In the centre of the print a plank (supported by a stool and a tub,) has given way, and precipitated to the ground two girls. And near them on the left, a public orator is introduced, vociferating “ jl full , true, and particular account of the Ghost of Tho- mas Idle," which appeared to the lord mayor. The windows and roofs of the houses are crowded with spectators of every age and rank. The two flags beneath the pieces of tapestry, (at the sign of the King s Head,) are emblazoned with the arms of the Stationers’ company ; that fixed on the stand, on the right, belongs to the company of Pinners and Needlers, now fallen into comparative obscurity. This series of prints is appositely employed as an ornament to the chamber of the city of London, where apprentices are usually bound and enrolled. The late Mr. James Love (otherwise Dance) composed a petit drama on this subject, in which the character of the good apprentice was performed by Mr. King.* * J. Ireland’s “ Kogarth Illustrated,” vol. i. p. 225. INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 59 The year after Hogarth published these twelve engravings, [viz. 1748,) was produced a pamphlet, entitled, “ The Effects of Industry and Idleness, illustrated in the Life, Adventures, and various For- tunes of Two Fellow-’Prentices of the City of London : shewing the different paths, as well as rewards, of virtue and vice ; how the good and virtuous ’prentice, by gradual steps of industry, rose to the highest pitch of grandeur ; and how, by contrary pursuits, his fellow-’prentice, by laziness and wickedness, came to die an ignominious death at the gallows. This little book ought to be read by every ’prentice in England, to imprint in their hearts these two different exam- ples; the contrary effects each will produce on their young minds being of more worth than a hundred times the price ; i. e. an abhorrence of the vice and wickedness they perceive in the one boy, and, on the contrary, an endeavour after an imitation of the actions of the other ; and is a more proper present to be given by the chamber of London, at the binding and enrolling an apprentice, than any other book whatever.”* In the “ British Critic,”! the late Dr. James is stated to have said, that he once heard a sermon preached from Hogarth’s prints of Industry and Idle- ness. The subject, it must be admitted, is well cal- culated to strike the young mind ; and, though the text be rather novel, we have no doubt but that such a sermon, in the hands of a judicious preacher, would be productive of beneficial effects. * Nichols’s “ Hogarth,” vol. i. p. 138. + Vol. xii. p. 354. THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. PLATE I. An ancient sage* has remarked, that “ virtue is the beauty , and vice the deformity of the soul.” If therefore, to trace the certain operations of vice, and to expose it in all its deformity, he to render an es- sential service to society, Hogarth has claims of no common extent to the gratitude of every philanthro- pist for his very successful development of that varied and certain misery, which never fails to overtake the deluded votaries of dissipation and of vice. The series of plates now under oor contemplation unfolds the history of a prostitute, whose eventful history the painter commences with her arrival in the metropolis. The heroine of this tale, about six- teen years of age, is delineated as having just alighted from the York waggon ; and the huge bell suspended over the door, indicates the scene to be laid in the yard of the Bell Inn, in Wood Street. The artist, in representing her as having come from so distant a part of the kingdom to improve her fortune , has dis- played much judgment ; and we may from this cir- * Socrates. MAaiXidD'TS ]PIR (GIRTE S S THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. 61 cumstance infer, that she is utterly ignorant of the artificial and dissipated manners of London. The neatness of her attire, the modest simplicity of her manners, her native innocence, the bloom of youth, all concur to give an interest to her person, and render her an easy prey to the wiles of the wretch who is addressing her. This pander to the depraved ap- petites of the rich and libidinous is apparently hiring her as a domestic, and is accosting her more with the cordiality of a friend, than with the reserve of one who is to be her mistress. The figure of the old procuress (whose bepatched face demonstrates her iniquitous profession) is under- stood to be a correct portrait of mother Needham, a fiend celebrated in the annals of iniquity ; and who, in Hogarth’s time, was an object of public notoriety, Pope has thus noticed her in his Dunciad “ To Needham’s quick, the voice triumphal rode, But pious Needham dropt the name of God.” Book i. ver. 323. The commentator on this passage states her to have been “ a matron of great fame, and very religious in her way; whose constant prayer it was, that she might ‘ get enough by her profession to leave it off in time, and make her peace with God.’ But her fate was not so happy ; for, being convicted and set in the pillory, she was so ill used by the populace, that it put an end to her days.”* * Nichols’s and Steevens’s “ Commentary on Hogarth,” vol. ii, p. 98. This miscreant was sentenced to stand twice in the pillory at the Westminster Quarter-Sessions, to pay a fine of one shilling, 62 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. Behind the procuress, descending the steps of the door, are two men, one of whom is libidinously gazing on the unsuspecting country girl. This is said to be a good likeness of the hoary veteran in iniquity, Colonel Francis Chartres, whose name has long since been con- signed to infamy, and whose character has been ener- getically sketched in an epitaph, from which we select the following passages for the information of our readers : “ 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 bestowing it on the most unworthy of all mortals .” and find security for her good behaviour for three years . — Grub Street Journal , April 29, 1731. The same paper (of the 6th of May) records the execution of this sentence, and her rough usage while in the pillory, and that she died the day before she was to stand there for the second time. “ She declared,” it is said, “ in her last words, that what had most affected her was, the terror of THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. 63 The other figure behind this miscreant is also a portrait, and represents John Gourlay, a pimp, whom he always kept about his person. On the right of this plate, we behold one w'hose garb proclaims him to be a clergyman ; and who is so intently occupied in perusing the address of a letter to the bishop of the diocese, that he heeds not the mischief committing by his lean and hungry Rosinante. The animal has caught at the straw, or hay, in which some earthen-ware is packed. One of the pans has already been thrown down ; and a dismal crash appears to await the pile of brittle ware. Some have conjectured the person mounted on this luckless steed to be the parent of our heroine; (whose future fate is, perhaps, covertly intended by the full blown rose in her bosom ;) but it is more likely to suppose, that Hogarth intro- duced this personage with the view of shewing, still more forcibly, the infatuation which formerly possessed our unpractised countrymen, in coming to the gay metropolis with the chimerical prospect of mending their fortunes. The group of female passengers in the waggon appear to have their attention divided between the procuress and her victim. “ The balcony” (Mr. John Ireland has appropriately remarked) “with linen hanging to dry; the York standing in the pillory to-morrow, in New Palace Yard, having been so ungratefully used by the populace on Wednesday.” A melancholy accident took place while this woman was suffering the sentence of the law. A boy was killed by falling upon some iron spikes from a lamp post, which he had ascended to behold her in the pillory. — Gent. Mag. vol i. p. 176. 64 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. waggon, which intimates the county that gave birth to our young adventurer; parcels lying on the ground, and a goose, directed “ To my lofen coosin in Terns Street , London prove the peculiar attention which Hogarth paid to the minutise. The initials “ M. H.” on one of the trunks, give us the name of the heroine of the drama. Hackabout was the name of a character then well known, and infamous for her licentiousness and debauchery.”* To the attentive observer, every circumstance in this print becomes interesting ; and the regard to costume and propriety of manner, which pervades the whole (in common with most of Hogarth’s other prints) contributes to render it an authentic document of modes and fashions as they existed in his day. * “ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. i. p. 6. Hogarth dtl 1 65 PLATE II. In this scene we find our heroine in a situation widely different from that state of unsuspecting simplicity which so lately interested our feelings. It should seem that, having been conducted from the yard of the Bell Inn to the house of the procuress, she had been prevailed upon to relinquish her homely dress ; and, having been initiated into the follies and fashions of the town, she had first fallen a prey to the seductive arts of the miscreant Chartres. Being abandoned by him, and the moral sense extinguished, we now find her pursuing the career of vice ; and the plate before us represents her as the mistress of an opulent Jew. She appears attended by her black boy, (then a necessary appendage to the household of the fashionable and the dissipated.) and living in the highest splendour and profusion. Having quitted her innocence with her modesty of dress, our depraved heroine continues to act as incon- siderately as at the first, and keeps up the spirit of the character she professes, by giving way to extravagance and inconstancy. The former trait in her character is well illustrated by the monkey dragging her splendid head-dress round the floor of her apartment; the latter is sufficiently evident from the whole tenor of the piece, her gallant being represented in the back-ground in the very act of retreating. The 66 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. Jew is at breakfast with his mistress; but, arriving before her favourite had quitted her apartment, the mistress and her attendant are obliged to exert all their ingenuity in order to effect his unobserved retreat. To effect this design, she contrives to quarrel with her keeper, kicks down the breakfast- table with its appen- dages, and scalds his legs. The noise occasioned by the falling china, (which is so well represented, that, without any great stretch of imagination, one may almost hear it breaking,) added to the screams of the enraged Jew, smarting with pain, facilitates the flight of the gallant without suspicion or discovery. The furniture of the apartment should not pass un- noticed. Among the decorations we see two pictures, the one representing Jonah sitting under a gourd, and David dancing before the ark. Mr. Ireland conjectures them to have been placed there with the view of ridiculing the old masters, who generally painted from the ideas of others, and continually repeated the same tale. Or probably they were designed to satirize the impropriety of decorating apartments with unappro- priate subjects. On the toilet-table we notice a mask, which indicates masquerades to have been at that time a very fashion- able amusement, much frequented by women of this character. It may also intimate, that duplicity and hypocrisy were now familiarized to our heroine, of which the scene before us conveys ample proof. Yet, though her infidelity might escape discovery for a short time, she seems to have proceeded with so little caution, that she could not long continue under the protection [we use, with regret, this prostituted THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS 67 word] of the Israelite. His lavish donations could not gain her regard, nor secure her attachment; and we shall soon see her punished for her infidelity by dismission, and involved in penury and disgrace, from her want of prudence in neglecting to provide for the evil hour of adversity. All the characters in this print are delineated with a master’s hand. The insolent air of the harlot; the attitude of the astonished Jew, eagerly grasping at the falling table ; the start of the sable attendant ;* the caut ious step of the unguarded and barefooted gallant ; and the sudden spring of the scalded and squalling monkey, all are expressed with admirable accuracy. To represent an object in its descent has been said to be impossible : the attempt has seldom succeeded ; but, in this print, the tea-equipage has actually the appear- ance of falling to the ground. * This black boy afforded room for an ill-natured remark by Quin, when Garrick once attempted tc perform 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.” This circumstance, Mr. Nichols remarks, by no means encouraged our Roscius to continue acting the part. In fact, when Garrick’s face was obscured, his chief power of expression was lost, and then, and not till then, was he reduced to a level with several other per- formers. Nichols’s “ Anecdotes of Hogarth, ’ vol. ii. p. 99.— Ireland’s “ Hogarth,” vol. i. pp. 7, 9. 68 PLATE III. Still descending in the scale of vice, our heroine now appears the humble tenant of a wretched apartment in the hundreds of Drury (which is obvious from the inscription on the pewter-pots). The tasteless profusion of magnificence, with which she had so lately been surrounded, is now exchanged for penury and wretched- ness. She, who once breakfasted in state, is now- reduced to take her comfortless meal as she can. Her silver tea-kettle has given place to a tin-pot, from which her attendant (whose countenance is furrowed with villany) is pouring water for her tea. Instead of her splendid toilet, with its magnificent mirror we now behold an old leaf-table, covered with a broken punch- bowl, and the fragments of the preceding nocturnal revel, among which a comb and the relic of a looking- glass appear conspicuous, and afford a striking contrast to her former situation. On the bed’s head is a wig- box of James Dalton, a notorious street-robber, who was afterwards executed at Tyburn. This, in addition to the tobacco-pipes, spirit-measures, and pewter-pots, which are strewed upon the dirty floor, further informs us of the gross habits of life into which she has entered, and of the vile associates with whom she now cohabits. The person of our heroine is in unison with the whole. Her laced head-dress, and the tawdry cloak hanging over the chair, may be considered as neces- saries of her profession — serving to conceal a loathsome body, and to attract the eyes of unwary youth. For HAMOI’S PROGRESS. THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. 69 thou gh her countenance still exhibits a few traces of that beauty which in the first print attracted our notice, it is bloated and marked with disease; and that she has a latent fire consuming her constitution, in addition to the evils of poverty, is obvious from the phials and boxes of nostrums, that are deposited in the window, the broken casements of which are but ill calculated to resis;t the inclemencies of the weather. Disorder and indecency characterize her throughout. In her right- hand is a watch, which we may suppose either to have been presented to her, or (which is more probable) stolen from her last gallant ; pilfering being then (as our daily journals now frequently inform us) a prin- cipal means of the prostitute’s support. The other articles of furniture are in a correspondent style. The silver-candlestick is now exchanged for a bottle, in the neck of which is placed a candle, and the china-ewer for a sorry earthenware-bason, both of which stand on a chair, whose seat is nearly gone. The prints which ornament the walls of her room are: Abraham offering up Isaac — a Madonna, or portrait of the Virgin Mary — Dr. Sacheverel of turbulent fame — and Macheath the notorious highwayman; — as curious a group, perhaps, as ever decorated any apartment. Roquet has noticed a circumstance which ought not to escape the reader’s observation. The artist, he remarks, has seized an opportunity of placing a bit of butter (which formed part of her breakfast) on the title of a pastoral letter, which an eminent prelate* had then addressed to his people, many copies of Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London. 70 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. which became literally waste paper, and were con- signed to the chandlers’ shops. One group more remains to he described : it is that which is entering the door, and which consists of a band of constables, headed by Sir John Gonson, who is very cautiously entering the room. That Sir John was the person intended in this print, is evident from a circumstance to be noticed in the next plate, where, on a door in Bridewell, a figure hanging is drawn in chalk, superscribed “ Sir J. G.”* This magistrate was very active in the suppression of brothels. He is noticed by Pope (in his 4th Satire of Dr. Donne versified), and also by Mr. Loveling in an elegant sapphic ode, which Mr. Nichols has given at length. f In “A View of the Town,” in 1735, by Mr. T. Gilbert, a fellow of Peter House, Cambridge, (and an intimate friend of Loveling’s) the following lines occur: — “ Though laws severe, to punish crimes, were made, What honest man is of these laws afraid? All felons against judges will exclaim, As harlots tremble at a Gonson’s name." To return to our heroine : — These emissaries of the law have arrested her, together with her wretched attendant and companion in vice, and have conducted her to Bridewell — a place of punishment unquestion- ably well designed , but the inefficacy of which, in reforming the moral habits, is daily evinced by the callous indifference with which the victims of prostitu- tion return to their lawless pursuits. * Nichol’s “Anecdotes,” vol. ii. p. 100. t Ibid. vol. i. p. 58. IHEAJR.ILi ©T 13 JPJB. © (BJK.IB S S IT.® 4 71 PLATE IV. Pitiable as the situation of our heroine was in her last residence, her present abode is far more wretched. We now behold her in company with pickpockets, sharpers, and females of her own pro- fession — suffering the punishment her vices had justly broiught upon her — reduced to the miserable alterna- tive of beating hemp, or receiving the correction of the stern keeper — and exposed to the derision of all around her, not excepting her own servant. The latter , indeed, seems to be familiarized to the place, and cannot refrain from insulting her ; though, while tying up her garter, she displays a pair of gaudy shoes, which, together with the stockings, we may conclude to have been a present from her mistress in the days of her prosperity. From the villanous sneer visible on the countenance of the servant, we learn that ingratitude is the never-failing concomitant of infamy. The surrounding figures are well grouped, and are well calculated to display the variety of punishments wkich are inflicted according to the greater or less degree of obstinacy in the offenders. Contiguous to the block where this victim of debauchery is beating hemp, lies a heavy log, which some are obliged to drag about, locked to their legs, and with which her 72 THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS. task-master seems to be menacing her; while the staple adjacent intimates that others are thus fastened to the ground. Those who will not work are sus- pended by the wrist for an hour or longer, at the discretion of their tyrannical overseer. Over the pil- lory, where this punishment is inflicted, appear these words — “ Better to work than stand thus and on the whipping-post, near the figure in a laced coat (the tattered cards at whose feet show him to be a gamester) is this inscription — “ The Bernard of Idle- ness As the rigid keeper reaps the profits of their labours, all are compelled to work with little inter- mission. To illustrate the inefficiency of punishment like this in the prevention of crimes, Hogarth has introduced a one-eyed female (probably the task- master’s wife), who, though close to the keeper, is not deterred from picking our heroine’s pocket, at the same time casting a wishful eye towards the lap- pets of her head-dress. Two or three objects more present themselves to our notice. The first is a young girl who scarcely appears to have entered her teens, and who seems to have been introduced as a pointed reflection on our police. Will it be credited by posterity, that in the enlightened nineteenth century these unfortunate fe- males still nightly attract the notice of the reflecting spectator, or the libidinous sons of debauchery ? The other character is a black woman, whose appearance demonstrates, that complexion of skin presents no barrier to prostitution. On the left-hand corner of this print, some waggish artist has displayed his in- genuity by sketching upon the wall a pe?ident figure THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. 73 with a pipe in his mouth. This is designed as a ca- ricature-portrait of Sir John Gonson,* by whom, pro- bably, he had been sent to this place to prosecute his pictorial studies. The composition of this print, Mr. Ireland observes, is tolerably good; the figures in the background, though properly subordinate, are sufficiently marked : the lassitude of the principal character is well con- trasted with the rigid austerity of the overseer. A fine gradation of female debasement is observable, from the gaudy heroine of our drama to her maid, and from thence to a still lower object, “ who is repre- sented as destroying one of the plagues of Egypt. ”f But though the whole attitude of our heroine does certainly evince much of lassitude, the attentive phy- siognomist may notwithstanding discover in her coun- tenance something like reflection — perhaps remorse. In such a disagreeable situation, indeed, we are not to imagine her altogether destitute of reflection. — What, under such circumstances, could be more na- tural than to think of the many anxious moments which she must have occasioned to her affectionate and indulgent parents, and to recollect her former ease and happiness'? Considerations like these must augment her distress, and render her misery still more acute. Now, perhaps for the first time, she takes a retrospect of her past life ; — reflects with hor- ror on its odious scenes ; — in some measure detests her proceedings, and determines upon a thorough change. "While impressed with such a resolution the * See p. 70. f “ Hogarth Illustrated, vol. i. p. 16. 74 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. period of her confinement expires, and she is once more at liberty; but, friendless and pennyless, this victim of folly and of sin has no resource — no place of shelter in which to conceal herself from the world. At the time this striking scene was delineated by Hogarth, neither the Magdalen Hospital nor the Female Penitentiary had been instituted : the former has now existed for many years, and has been a means of reclaiming very many to the path of virtue. — The latter, though comparatively of recent date, has already been productive of much benefit. The establishment of similar institutions in other large cities and towns of this kingdom, while it is cal- culated to display the benevolent influence of Chris- tianity, — at the same time presents the reflecting observer with a melancholy view of the immorality of the age. Had either of these benevolent institutions then been founded, it is possible that our heroine would have taken refuge beneath its friendly roof ; and, having been restored to the paths of virtue, might have proved an useful member of civil society, a com- fort to her parents. But now, deserted by all, no resource is left but to return to her former habits. On then she goes in her accustomed course, till, con- sumed by poverty and disease, she falls a martyr to prostitution. JffATRlL© T "S :m© GK E $ S - 95 - 75 PLATE V. In this print the tragedy is completed : we now be- hold our heroine released from her confinement in Bridewell, in all the extremity of penury. This, indeed, is sufficiently marked by the appearance of her wretched apartment ; in the corner of which coals are lying, while the opposite side presents to the view candles hanging against the wall, and, near them, a cake of Jew bread, given her probably by her Israelitish keeper, (whom we noticed in the second plate,) and which is now employed as a fly-trap. The bellows and gridiron, which are supported on nails — the linen hung up to dry — the bottle, plate, paper inscribed “ Anodyne Necklace” &c. on the floor, all contribute to show in striking colours the accumulated misery of our unfortunate heroine. — Consequent on the loss of virtue is the loss of her health : she is here represented expiring of the dis- ease incident to her profession. Two quacks (one of whom is known to be Dr. Misaubin, a celebrated nostrum-monger of that day) are disputing about the efficacy of their pernicious drugs with no small vehe- mence : in vain does the servant entreat them to sus- pend their vociferations at this serious moment. During this indecent contest, the callous nurse is plundering her mistress’s trunk of its few remaining e 2 76 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. valuables, regardless of the squabble between the rival quacks. One object alone in this plate excites our sympathy ; it is the innocent victim of illicit love, who is turning a scanty piece of meat roasting at the fire. During this scene of confusion, the victim of in- discretion expires at the early age of twenty -three ; as she lived in disgrace, so she died in infamy. The confusion, indeed, (Mr. Ireland justly remarks,) is admirably represented. “ The noise of two enraged quacks, disputing in bad English — the harsh vulgar scream of the maid- servant — the table falling — and the pot boiling over, must produce a combination of sounds dreadful and dissonant to the ear. In this pitiable situation, with- out a friend to close her dying eyes, or soften her sufferings by a tributary tear ; — forlorn, destitute, and deserted, the heroine of this eventful history expires : her premature death [being] brought on by a licentious life, seven years of which had been devoted to debauchery and dissipation, and attended by consequent infamy, misery, and disease. The whole story affords a valuable lesson to the young and inexperienced, and proves this great, this im- portant truth, that A DEVIATION FROM VIRTUE IS A DEPARTURE FROM HAPPINESS.”* Mr. J. Ireland's “ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. i. p. 19. 77 PLATE VI. The tragical adventures of our heroine being con- cluded in the last scene, the present plate has by some* been considered as the farce at the conclusion of it : of which death is more frequently the occasion than the subject. It is, however, more probable that Hogarth designed to convey important moral advice after the death of his heroine ; and that he has availed himself of this opportunity of indulging his humour in the ridicule of a funeral ceremonial, although he has done this at the expense of propriety in his delineation. The room, for instance, is decorated with the es- cutcheons of her profession ; but Mr. Nichols has justly observed, “At the burial of a wanton, who expired in a garret, no escutcheons were ever hung up, or rings given away ; and he questions, if any bawd ever chose to avow that character before a clergyman, or any infant was ever habited as chief mourner, to attend a parent to the grave.”f The consistency of the characters is, however, well supported. The company here assembled is evidently of our heroine’s profession. In one corner sits an old * Rouquet, and (after him) Dr. John Trusler. f Nichols’ “ Hogarth,” vol. ii. p. 103. 78 the harlot’s progress. procuress, howling for the dead with a bottle of Nantz by her side. On the opposite side is a clergy- man, occupied in a manner utterly unbecoming his sacred profession ; and so intent is he on ogling the female by his side, as to spill his wine on his hand- kerchief. Near them another is dealing out liquor, in order to support this maudlin sorrow ; and close to the latter are two mourners habited in all the pride of funeral woe, one of whom is, notwithstanding, sipping her liquor ; while the other wrings her hands, and is turning up her eyes with hypocritical ejaculation. Another is reconnoitring herself in a glass : and near her the undertaker, unappalled at the ghastly corpse, fixes his lascivious eyes on the woman whose glove he is fitting on ; while she, unaffected at the awful solemnity, is artfully robbing him of his pocket-handkerchief. The only person in this group that seems at all touched with the present scene, is the woman contemplating the corpse of her departed associate. The boy, habited as chief mourner, and winding up his top, keeps up the spirit of the piece, and adds not a little to its humour. All the figures, indeed, are both strongly and characteristically marked. The success and popularity which attended the publi- cation of these prints having already been noticed,* it only remains to notice one or two local customs, to which Hogarth has adverted. * Vide supra, p. 8. THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. 79 It will be observed, that the clergyman, who is here introduced, has in his left-hand a sprig of rose- mary ; and that almost all the other personages are furnished with white pocket-handkerchiefs. At the time these plates were engraved, it was the general custom (now indeed disused, except in some of the more remote parts of this island,) to distribute among the mourners sprigs of rosemary : “ and, to appear at a funeral without one, was as great an indecorum as to be without a white handkerchief.” Mr. Ireland (to whom we are indebted for this last fact) conjec- tures, that the custom probably originated at a time when the plague depopulated the metropolis, and rosemary was deemed an antidote against conta- gion. It is still frequently put into the coffins of the dead. We conclude our description of this series of prints with the following verses, by a late ingenious and lamented young poet, who has glanced at the custom just noticed : — TO THE HERB ROSEMARY. Sweet-scented dower ! who art wont to bloom On January’s front severe, And o’er the wdntery desert drear, To waft thy waste perfume ! Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now. And I will bind thee round ray brow ; And, as I twine the mournful wreath, I’ll weave a melancholy song, And sweet the strains shall be, and long, The melody of death. 80 THE HARLOT’S PROGRESS. Come, funeral flow’r ! who lov’st to dwell With the pale corse in lonely tomb, And throw across the desert gloom A sweet decaying smell. Come, press my lips, and lie with me. Beneath the lowly alder-tree ; And we will sleep a pleasant sleep, And not a care shall dare intrude To break the marble solitude. So peaceful, and so deep. And, hark ! the wind-god as he flies, Moans hollow in the forest-trees, And, sailing on the gusty breeze. Mysterious music dies. Sweet flower, that requiem wild is mine. It warns me to the lowly shrine, The cold turf altar of the dead ; My grave shall be in yon rude spot. Where, as I lie by all forgot, A dying fragrance thou wilt o’er my ashes shed. “ Remains of H. K. White,” vol. i. p. l 'J. :PIR©(&ffi!K£3^ Ifl THE RAKE’S PROGRESS PLATE I Jflftotto. Oh, vanity of age untoward ! Ever spleeny, ever froward ! Why these bolts and massy chains, Squint suspicions, jealous pains. Why thy toilsome journey o’er, Lay’st thou in an useless store ? Hope along with time is flown, Nor canst thou reap the field thou’st sown. Hast thou a son? in time be wise— He views thy toil with other eyes. Needs must thy kind, paternal care, Lock’d in thy chest be buried there ? Whence then shall flow that friendly ease, That social converse, home-felt peace, Familiar duty without dread, Instruction from example bred, Which youthful minds with freedom mend, And with the father mix the friend? Uncircumscribed by prudent rules, Or precepts of expensive schools ; Abused at home, abroad despised, Unbred, unletter’d, unadvised ; The headstrong course of youth begun, What comfort from this darling son ? In the two preceding series of prints we have seen Hogarth’s inventive genius brilliantly displayed in his delineation of the progressive rewards of virtue, and e 2 82 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. sure punishment of vice. In the present series he has traced the certain consequences of prodigality in most striking colours, and thus holds out to the unthinking youth an important lesson. “ The first print of this capital work,” (says the late Rev. Mr. Gilpin,) “is an excellent representation of a young heir taking possession of a miser’s effects. The passion of avarice, which hoards every thing without distinction — what is and what is not valuable — is admirably described.” Here we see the young heir, Rakewell, newly ar- rived from college, upon the death of his father. Eager to ascertain the extent of his possessions, he has caused the old wardrobes to be wrenched open ; — the strong chests are unlocked ; India bonds, mortgage-deeds, and other securities for money, are indiscriminately tumbled out ; and the bags of gold, which had long been hoarded with griping care, are now exposed to the dishonest hands of those about him. The scrap of candle stuck upon a save-all upon the mantle-piece : — the picture over it of a miser counting his gold ; — the rotten furniture of the room — the spectacle-frame destitute of glasses ; — the miserable contents of the dusty wardrobe, consisting of an old boot, old periwigs, rusty swords, &c. together with the neglected crutch and walking-stick leaning against the wall, — all most accurately mark the character of the defunct miser. From a mass of papers falls an old MS. memorandum, with this entry, “ May 5th, 1721, put off my bad shilling .” thus intimating, that amid all his hoards of gold, the apprehension of losing a single shilling is to he miser a constant source of uneasiness. the rake’s PROGRESS. S3 Tn one part of the room we see a man hanging it with black cloth, on which are fixed escutcheons, containing (appropriately enough) the arms of the avaricious, viz. three vices hard screwed , witn the motto, “ Beware” underneath. On the floor lies a pair of old shoes, which this sordid wretch is supposed to have long preserved, for the weight of iron in the nails, and which he had soled with leather cut from the covers of a family Bible. The gold falling from the breaking cornice ; — the jack and spit removed from their usual places, and hoisted up into a high cupboard : the clean and empty chimney, in which an antiquated attendant is laying wood ; and the emaciated figure ot the famished cat, strongly characterise the miserable manner in which their late owner had dragged on a wretched existence. We now turn to the hero of the piece, whose coun- tenance exhibits such strong marks of simplicity, as to lay him open to the designs of the mercenary and unprincipled. While the country tailor is taking nis measure, the heir’s attention is arrested by the entrance of a young woman having a wedding-ring, whom fie had seduced under the promise of marriage, together with her mother, whose united applications he totally disregarded. Unmoved by her pregnant situation, or by the arguments or reproaches of the mother, whose apron is full of letters, he attempts to silence both by a bribe. In this altercation he is so closely engaged, as to give the pettifogging solicitor an opportunity of robbing him, instead of making out the inventory for which he was employed. The composition of this print, though not excellent, 84 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. is not unpleasing. Mr. Gilpin (whose critique on this series of plates is too valuable to be omitted) has very appropriately remarked, that “ the principal group, consisting of the young gentleman, the tailor, the ap- praiser [attorney'], the papers, and chest, is well shaped : but the eye is hurt by the disagreeable regu- larity of three heads nearly in a line, and at equal distances. The light is not ill-disposed ; but the effect might have been improved. If the extreme parts of the mass (the white apron on one side, and the memo- randum-book on the other) had been in shade, the repose had been less injured. The detached parts of a group should rarely catch a strong body of light. “We have no striking instances of expression in this print. The principal figure is unmeaning. The only one which displays the true vis comica of Hogarth, is the appraiser [attorney] fingering the gold. You enter at once into his character. The young woman might have furnished the artist with an opportunity of pre- senting a more graceful figure, which would have been more pleasing. The figure he has introduced is by no means an object of allurement. The perspective is accurate, but affected. So many windows and open doors may show the author’s learning, but they break the back-ground and injure the simplicity of it.” 3PJR, (KJRIE 8 S 3J 85 PLATE II. J&otto. Prosperity, (with harlot smiles, Most pleasing when she most beguiles,) How soon, sweet foe, with all thy train Of false, gay, frantic, loud, and vain, Enter the unprovided mind, And memory in fetters bind ? Load faith and love with golden chain, And sprinkle Lethe o’er the brain ! Pleasure, on her silver throne, Smiling comes, nor comes alone ; Venus comes, with her along, And smooth Lyaeus ever young ; And in their train, to fill the press, Come apish Dance, and swoll’n Excess ; Mechanic Honour, vicious Taste, And fashion in her changing vest. This second scene introduces our hero into all the dissipations of modish life. We first became acquainted with him when a youth of eighteen, fresh from college. He is now of age ; has entirely thrown off the clownish school-boy, and assumes the man of taste and fashion. Instead of the rustic tailor who took measure of him for his father’s mourning, he is now attended by French barbers, French tailors, poets, milliners, and the whole retinue of a modern fine gentleman. The foremost figure is evidently a Parisian dancing- master; behind him stand two celebrated teachers of the art of defence : — one a Frenchman of the name of 86 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. Dubois, who taught the use of the small-sword, and who is here in the act of making a thrust with his foil ; — the other is Figg, a noted English prize-fighter of that day, master of the quarter-staff. The vivacity of the Frenchman, and the cool contempt visible on the countenance of the Englishman, are admirably characteristic of the different temperaments of the two nations. To the left of Figg stands an improver of gardens (whose name was Bridgeman, and who was in his day held in much estimation) ; he is in the attitude of presenting a scheme for the better laying out of our young squire’s grounds. In addition to these various masters, he is attended by a performer on the French horn, who is in the right-hand corner, serenading his patron with his delectable notes. At the elbow of the latter is a stern- looking figure, with one hand on his breast and the other on his sword, who is easily ascertained to be a bravo, and who has brought a letter of recommendation, as one disposed to undertake any kind of services. This character, it has been observed, is rather Italian than English, and seems to have been introduced in order to fill up the list of persons who were at that time engaged in the employment of the votaries of fashion and extravagance. Below this bully, on one knee, is a jockey supporting a silver bowl, which one of his horses is supposed to have won. In a chair on the left a professor of music is seated, whose fingers are running over a harpsichord, while he waits to give his pupil a lesson. This has been supposed to be intended for Handel, to whose portrait it bears a strong resem- blance. At the back of this performer’s chair hangs a THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. 8T long list of presents received by the Italian singer Farinelli, the day after he had represented a favourite character in that most idle, frivolous, and expensive of all fashionable amusements, the Italian opera. Among others is the following item, presented by our hero : — “ gold snuff-box, chased with the story of Orpheus charming the brutes, from T. Bake well, Esq.” On the floor, at the foot of this list, is an engraved frontis- piece to a poem, dedicated to our fashionable spend- thrift, and representing the British ladies as sacrificing their hearts to this same idol Farinelli, and exclaiming with the utmost earnestness, “ One God — one Fari- nelli ! ! /” The group of figures in the back-ground represents tailors, peruke-makers, milliners, and other usual attendants on men of quality. One, however, is too conspicuous to be unnoticed; he is evidently a poet, reciting a panegyric on our hero, whose applauses he already seems to enjoy by anticipation. The ornaments of young Rakewell’s apartments are perfectly in character. The portraits of two fighting- cocks, intimate that, in addition to the other branches of fashionable expenditure, he has acquired a passion for that disgrace to the English character— cock- fighting : between these, however, Hogarth has placed a picture representing the Judgment of Paris , which (Mr. Ireland observes) bears a whimsical allusion. The attitude of Venus is graceful ; but the cool indifference and sang froid of the Trojan shepherd, carelessly seated, while the fair competitors for the prize are standing up, is intolerable.”* * Ireland’s “ Hogarth,” vol. i. p. 34, note. 88 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. “ The expression in this print,” Mr. Gilpin observes, “ is wonderfully great. The dauntless front of the bully — the keen eye and elasticity of the fencing-master — and the simpering importance of the dancing-master, are admirably expressed. The last is perhaps a little outre . The architect [improver of grounds ] is a strong copy from nature. The composition seems to be entirely subservient to the expression. It appears as if Hogarth had sketched in his memorandum-book all the characters which he has here introduced, but was at a loss how to group them ; and chose rather to introduce them in detached figures, as he had sketched them, than to lose any part of the expression by com- bining them. The light is ill distributed.* It is spread indiscriminately over the print, and destroys the whole. We have no instance of grace in any of the figures. The principal figure is very deficient. There is no contrast in the limbs, which is always attended with a degree of ungracefulness. The execution is very good : it is elaborate, yet free. The satire on operas, though it may be well directed, is forced and unnatural.” * On this remark Mr. Ireland thus comments : — “ The light, it must be acknowleged, is very ill distributed, and the figures most inartificially grouped. To infer from hence with Mr. Gilpin, that the artist “ was at a loss how to group them," is not quite fair: his other compositions prove that he was not ignorant of the art, but in many of them he has been inattentive to it. In this he may have introduced in his print figures which were not inserted in the sketch, merely because they were appropriate to his story. The expression of the actors in his drama was always his leading object : composition he considered as secondary, and was little solicitous about their situation on the stage .” — Vol i p. S6. 89 PLATE III. JWotto. “ O vanity of youthful blood, So by misuse to poison good ! Woman, framed for social love, Fairest gift of powers above, Source of ev’ry household blessing, All charms in innocence possessing : But, turn’d to vice, all plagues above. Foe to thy being, foe to love ! Guest divine, to outward viewing, Ablest minister of ruin ! “ And thou, no less of guilt divine, Sweet poison of misused wine ! With freedom led to ev’ry part, And secret chamber of the heart, Dost thou thy friendly host betray, And shew thy riotous gang the way Ta enter in, with covert treason, O’erthrow the drowsy guard of reason, To ransack the abandon’d place, And revel there with wild excess.” This plate carries us still deeper into the history ; and we meet our hero engaged in one of his evening amuse- ments. Having beat the rounds , defeated the con- stable of the night, and knocked down a watchman, (as is evident from the trophy of the staff and lantern at his feet,) behold this deluded son of dissipation in a 90 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. state of bestial intoxication. In this condition he is robbed of his watch by the girl whose hand is in his bosom, and who is dexterously conveying her plunder to an associate in villany, that stands behind our hero’s chair. The mutilated state of the furniture, obvious from the decapitated pictures , broken mirrors, &c. seems to intimate that the former part of the evening had been devoted to wanton mischief : and the characters he introduced are strictly descriptive of the wretched company to which our hero resorts for recreation. Two of these frail nymphs are at high words ; one ol them is spouting wine in the face of her antagonist, who, grasping a knife, vows vengeance for this insult. Behind them is another, indignant at being slighted, placing a lighted candle against a map of the world, swearing she will fire the world, though she should expire in its flames. In the front, a woman is un- dressing, in order to exhibit some indecent postures, (a filthy practice by which she obtained a precarious maintenance,) the large pewter-dish, which a porter is bringing in, being designed for one of her positions. To crown the whole, a blind harper and trumpeter are introduced, for the purpose of accompanying the ragged girl who is bawling out an obscene song. “ The design of this print,” Mr. Gilpin remarks, “ is good, and may be a very exact description of the humours of a brothel. The composition too is note amiss : but we have few of those masterly strokes which distinguish the works of Hogarth. The whole is plain history. The lady setting the world on fire is the best thought : and there is some humour in furnish- THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. 91 ing the room with a set of Caesars, and not placing them in order. Expression we have a little throughout the whole print. That of the principal figure is the best. The ladies have all the air of their profession, hut no variety of character. Hogarth’s women are in general very inferior to his men : the female face has seldom strength of feature enough to admit the strong markings of expression.” PLATE IV. JKlotto “ O vanity of youthful blood, So by misuse to poison good! Reason awakes, and views unbarr’d, The sacred gates he watched to guard ; Aproaching sees the harpy — Law, And Poverty, with icy paw, Ready to seize the last remains That vice has left of all his gains. Cold Penitence, lame After-thought, With fears, despair, and horrors fraught, Call back his guilty pleasures dead, Whom he hath wrong’d and whom betray’d.” Very disagreeble accidents often befal gentlemen of pleasure ; — an event of this kind is recorded in the scene before us. Our hero is arrested by a bailiff while going in full dress to court, to pay his compliments on St. David’s Day,* (which festival is indicated by the enormous leek visible in the pompous Welshman’s hat.) To add to his misfortune, while the sheriff’s officer is seizing his prey, the lamplighter above carelessly spills his oil on the spendthrift’s head ; while * The 1st of March was the birth-day of Queen Caroline, con- sort of George II. RAMIE S PRO ffi-IRIE S S THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. 93 a young urchin is making a prize of his gold-headed cane. Our attention in this plate is attracted by the young woman whom Rakewell had seduced, and whom the observant reader may remember to have seen in- troduced in the first print. From the band-box falling by her side she is evidently become a milliner, and, with undiminished regard, she offers her little purse for the release of her worthless betrayer. This liberates the dissipated captive, and affords a striking proof of that constant affection in the female sex, which, when once rooted, the severest treatment can hardly alienate. In the back-ground we are presented with a view of St. James’s palace, and of White’s chocolate-house, a noted rendezvous in the last century for sharpers and gamesters. To intimate, at the same time, that gambling is not confined to the great and the opulent, our artist has introduced a motley group of chimney- sweepers, &c. &c. variously occupied with cups and balls, throwing dice, playing at cards, and prick- ing in the belt. One of these having lost his clothes, is now staking his basket, brushes, and blacking. To carry on the humour of the scene (and by way of contrast to that of the chocolate-house above mentioned,) Hogarth has introduced a smutty little politician smoking his pipe, and most studiously perusing the “ Farthing Post,” a newspaper at that time in circulation, and as its name imports, sold for — one farthing. The composition and grouping of the figures in this plate, upon the whole are pleasing. The surprise and 94 THE RAKE 5 S PROGRESS. terror of the poor beau are apparent in every limb, as far as is consistent with the fear of discomposing his dress. The insolence of power in one of the sheriff’s officers, and the unfeeling heart (which can sport with misery) in the other, are strongly marked. The self- importance of the honest Welshman is not ill pour- frayed. 95 PLATE V. J¥lotto “ Now to the school of hard mishap, Driv’n from the ease of fortune’s lap, What schemes will nature not embrace, T’ avoid less shame of drear* distress? Gold can the charms of youth bestow, And mash deformity with shew ; Gold can avert the sting of shame, In winter’s arms create a flame ; Can couple youth with hoary age, And make antipathies engage.” Difficulties continuing to crowd fast upon our hero, we here behold him driven to the necessity of marrying a one-eyed, ugly, antiquated sybil, whom he detests, as an expedient for recruiting his wasted fortune. The nuptial ceremony is performing in the old church of St. Mary-le-bone ; which (being formerly in the outskirts of the metropolis) was the usual rendezvous for those who were desirous of being privately married. Secretly , however, as Rakewell might wish to celebrate his nuptials, they do not take place, without the * Some copies of these lines which we have seen, ijead 11 It an distress.” 96 THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. knowledge of the young woman (who so lately re- leased him from the talons of the law,) and who, together with her child and mother, are endeavouring to enter the church, and prevent the completion of the ceremony. They are opposed by the old pew-opener, whose character is critically pourtrayed by her bunch of keys whirling in the air; and who seems not a little apprehensive lest she should lose her usual fee on this occasion. A violent altercation ensues, which Hogarth has drawn with his accustomed humour. The parson and his clerk (whose nasal harmony we may almost imagine ourselves to hear) are well paired; and the burlesque of the piece is not ill sup- ported by the introduction of our artist’s favourite pug-dog Trump, paying his devoirs to a one-eyed female of the same breed. It only remains to notice the church, which exhibits every appearance of rapid decay. The Creed is torn, the Commandments are most literally broken, a crack runs through the table near the 10th, which says, Thou slialt not covet thy neighbour's wife ; “ a pro- hibition (Mr. Ireland remarks) in the present case hardly necessary. And so little attention has been paid to the poor’s-box, that — it is covered with acobrceb! ! f These three high-wrought strokes of satirical humour were, perhaps, never equalled by an exertion of the pencil — excelled they cannot he.”* The branches of holly and hay that decorate the pews, mark the period of the year when this unna- tural junction is taking place to be about Christmas. J. Ireland’s “ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. i. p. 48. THE RAKE’S PROGRESS. 97 — On one of the pews are the following lines, which all the commentators on our author have preserved as a curious specimen of church-yard poetry : — THESE : PEWES : VNSCRVD : AND : TANE : IN : SVNDER IN : STONE : THERS : GRAVEN : WHAT : IS : VNDER TO : WIT : A : VALT : FOR : BVRIAL : IS WHICH : EDWARD : FOREST : MADE : FOR : HIM : AND : HIS.* The composition of this piece is good : the principal figure is graceful ; and there is strong expression in the seeming tranquillity of his features. He conceals his contempt of the withered object before him as well as he can ; and yet he cannot do it. The intro- duction of a glory over her head has a comical effect ; and she also has as much meaning as can appear through the deformity of her features. Applying to herself, his amorous glances towards her maid, the affected bride returns them with a squint of satisfac- tion ? * Part of these lines, in raised letters, now form a pannel in the wainscot at the end of the right-hand gallery, as the church is entered from the street. No heir of the Forest (or Forret,') family appearing, the vault has been claimed and used by his Grace the (late) Duke of Portland, as lord of the manor. — Ibid, 98 PLATE VI. J¥lotto. “ Gold ! thou bright son of Phoebus, source Of universal intercourse; Of weeping virtue sweet redress, And blessing those, who live to bless : — Yet oft behold this sacred trust, The tool of avaricious lust, No longer bond of human kind, But bane of ev’ry virtuous mind. What chaos such misuse attends ! Friendship stoops to prey on Friends, Health, that gives relish to delight, Is wasted with the wasting night : Doubt and mistrust are thrown on heav’n And all its pow’r to chance is given. Sad purchase of repentant tears, Of needless quarrels, endless fears, Of hopes of moments, pangs of years ! Sad purchase of a tortur’d mind, To an imprison’d body join’d 1” The fortune, which our adventurer purchased -by his unnatural union, enabled him to make one more ef- fort at the gaming-table. In the scene before us, he is exhibited, after having lost his last stake, upon his knees, in a desperate state of mind, uttering the RAKEiS JFK 2 . 117 PLATE II “ That indifference between the parties which pre- ceded Marriage a-la-Mode has not been wanting to follow it. We unite ourselves by contract, and we live separately by inclination. Tired and fatigued one of another, such husbands and wives have nothing in common but a house, tiresome to the husband, and into which he enters as late as he can ; and which would not be less tiresome to the lady, was it not sometimes the theatre of other pleasures, either in entertainments or routs. There is here represented a room where there has just been one of these routs, and the company just separated, as you see by the wax-candles not yet extinguished. The clock shows you it is noon ; and this anticipation of the night upon the day, is not the slightest of those strokes which are intended to show the disorder which reigns in the house. Madam, who has just had her tea, is in an attitude which explains itself, perhaps, too much. Be that as it will, the painter’s intention is to represent this lady neglected by her husband, un- der dispositions which make a perfect contrast with the present situation of this husband, who is just come home, and who appears in a state of the most perfect indifference, fatigued, exhausted, and glutted with pleasure. This figure of the husband, by the 118 MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. novelty of its turn, the delicacy and truth of its ex- pression, is most happily executed. A steward of an old stamp, one of those, if such there be, who are contented with their salary, seizes this moment, not being able to find another, to settle some accounts. The disorder which he perceives gives him a motion which expresses his chagrin, and his fear for the speedy ruin of his master.” The cards scattered on the floor, the treatise of Hoyle lying at our heroine’s feet, the music and musical instruments thrown down, are strongly cha- racteristic of her dissipated habits ; she is yawning with ennui , while the fatigued and disordered ap- pearance of her husband evidently shews that he has not been much better employed. The nature of his nocturnal pursuits is sufficiently marked by his broken sword, and also by the female cap hanging out of his pocket, whence it is on the point of being drawn by a playful lap-dog. It is worthy of note, that Ho- garth has humorously put into the steward’s hands a number of unpaid bills, and placed upon the file only one receipt ! The servant in the back-ground seems utterly inattentive to his lord and lady, and to take no notice whatever of the chair on his right, which is in danger of taking fire from the blaze of an expir- ing taper. 119 PLATE III. “ T he bad conduct of the hero of the piece must be shewn here ; the painter for this purpose introduces him into the apartment of a quack, where he would not have been but for his debauchery. He makes him meet at the same time, at this quack’s, one of those women, who, being ruined themselves long since, make afterwards the ruin of others their occu- pation. A quarrel is supposed to have arisen between this woman and our hero, and the subject thereof appears to be the bad condition, in point of health, of a young girl, from a commerce with whom he had received an injury. This poor girl makes here a contrast on account of her age, her fearfulness, her softness, with the character of the other woman, who appears a composition of rage, madness, and of all other crimes which usually accompany these aban- doned women towards those of their own sex. The doctor and his apartments are objects thrown in by way of episode. Although heretofore only a barber, he is now, if you judge by the appearance he makes, not only a surgeon, but a naturalist, a chemist, a mechanic, a physician, and an apothecary; and, to 120 MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. heighten the ridicule, you see he is a Frenchman. The painter, to finish this character according to his own idea, makes him the inventor of machines ex- tremely complicated, for the most simple operations, as, one to reduce a dislocated limb, and another to draw the cork out of a bottle.” This circumstance of the barber- surgeon seems to be implied by the broken comb, pewter-basin, and the horn so placed as to resemble a barber’s pole, all which are exhibited either above or within the glass- case ; in which the skeleton appears whispering a man who had been exsiccated by some mode of em- balming at present unknown. About the time of publishing this set of prints, a number of bodies thus preserved were discovered in a vault in Whitechapel Church. Our quack is likewise a virtuoso. An antique spur, a high-crowned hat, old shoes, &c. together with a model of the gallows, are among his rarities. On his table lies a skull, rendered carious by the disease he professes to cure.* The following verses from Dr. Garth’s “ Dispensary,” so exactly characterize the motley collection of this nostrum- * Nichols’s “Hogarth,” vol. ii. p. 179. The initials on the breast of the procuress have been variously interpreted. “ B. (or E.) C.” for the celebrated Betsey Careless ; (who after a routine of dissipation, fell a victim to debauchery, and was buried from the poor-house of St. Paul’s, Covent Garden): or 1 F. C. for Fanny Cock , daughter of an eminent auctioneer of that day, with whom the artist had some dispute.— ( Ibid.) Mr. Ireland, how- ever, thinks it probable that these gunpowder initials are merely the mark of a woman of the lowest rank and most infamous description. — Ireland's “ Hogarth Illustrated,” vol. ii. p. 35, note. MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. 121 vender, that one might conjecture that Hogarth had copied the description when designing the print : — “ His shop the gazing vulgar’s eyes employs With vulgar trinkets, and domestic toys. Here mummies lay, most reverendly stale : And there the tortoise hung her coat of mail : Not far from some huge shark’s devouring head, The flying-fish the finny pinions spread. Aloft in rows large poppy-heads were strung, And near a scaly alligator hung: In this place drugs, in musty heaps decay’d ; In that , dry’d bladders and drawn teeth were laid.” Dispensary, canto ii. 122 PLATE IV. The old earl having paid the debt of nature, the young viscount is come into the entire possession of his estate and title ; and his dissipated wife has at- tained the acme of her wishes, in acquiring the rank and appellation of a countess. In consequence of this they mutually launch into every species of fashionable extravagance and folly. This piece is amusing by the variety of characters therein represented. Let us begin with the princi- pal ; and this is Madam at her toilet : a French zalet- de-chambre is putting the finishing stroke to her dress. The painter supposes her returned from one of those auctions of old goods, pictures, and an hun- dred other things, which are so common at London, and where numbers of people of condition are duped. It is there that, for emulation, and only not to give place to another in point of expense, a woman buys at a great price an ugly pagod, without taste, with- out worth, and which she has no sort of occasion for. It is there also that an opportunity is found of con- versing, without scandal, with people who you can- not see any where else. The things which you see on the floor, are the valuable acquisitions our heroine has just made at one of those auctions. It is ex- tremely fashionable at London to have at your house lEE -A. JLA MiDMJE MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. 123 one of those melodious animals which are brought from Italy at great expense ; there appears one here, whose figure sufficiently distinguishes him to those who have once seen one of those unhappy victims of the rage of Italians for music. The woman there is charmed, almost to fainting, with the ravishing voice of this singer ; hut the rest of the company do not seem so sensible of it. The country gentleman, fatigued at a stag or fox chase, is fallen asleep. You see there, with his hair in papers, one of those personages who pass their whole life in endeavouring to please, but without succeeding ; and there, with a fan in his hand, you see one of those heretics in love, a disciple of Anacreon. You see likewise, on the couch, the lawyer, who is introduced in the first picture, talking to the lady. He appears to have taken advantage of the indifference of the husband, and that his affairs are pretty far advanced since the first scene. He is proposing the masquerade to his mistress, who does not fail to accept of it. The insidious Counsellor Silver-Tongue is pointing to certain figures on the screen (a friar and a nun in close conversation), that sufficiently indicate his in- tentions towards ner. A number of complimental message cards lie strewed upon the floor, to the fol- lowing purport : — “Lady Squander’s company is desired at Lady Townley’s Drum, next Monday.” “Lady Squander’s company is desired at Lady Heathen’s Drum Major, next Sunday.” “ Lady Squander’s company is desired at Miss Hairbrain’s Rout.” Count Basset desire to no how Lady Squander sleep last nite.” G 2 124 MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. The furniture of the apartment is characteristic of its dissipated tenants. Among the pictures we re- cognise the portrait of the young barrister — Jupiter and Io — Ganymede and the Eagle— Lot and his Daughters. Before we conclude the description of this plate, it is worth while to notice the precious trumpery , which, from the catalogue on the floor, appears to have been purchased by her ladyship from the collection of Sir Thomas Baby house. Among these is a porcelain figure of Actceon , to whose horns the little black page is archly pointing (with a sarcastic leer upon his lady), as emblematical of the ridiculous appearance of his master. MATRIiiAGE A JLA 125 PLATE V. The fatal consequences of going to the masquerade are here shown to perfection. The ticket was accepted to favour an assignation ; the assignation took place, and the catastrophe is dire. The barrister and countess are supposed to have withdrawn to some bagnio, in order to gratify their illicit amours. “A husband, whose wife goes to the masquerade without him, is not without his inquietudes ; it is natural that ours here has secretly followed his wife thither, and from thence to the bagnio, where he finds her in bed with the lawyer. They fight; — the husband is mortally wounded : his wife, upon her knees, is making useless protestations of her remorse. The watchmen enter; and the lawyer, in his shirt, is getting out of the window.” The sleek rotundity of the constable, is well contrasted by the lank-visaged guardian of the night ; terror and conscious guilt are strongly marked on the countenance of the retreating adulterer. The pallid face of the wounded peer evidently indicates the rapid approach of death. 126 PLATE VI. “ We are now at the house of the alderman. London bridge, which is seen through the window, shows the quarter where the people of business live. The fur- niture of this house does not contribute to its orna- ment ; every thing shows niggardliness ; and the dinner, which is on the table, the highest frugality. You see the tobacco pipes set by in the corner : this too is a mark of great economy. Some pictures you see, upon very low subjects, to give you to under- stand by this choice, that persons who, like the alderman, pass their whole life in thinking of nothing but enriching themselves, generally want taste and elegance iP besides, every thing here is contrasted with what you saw at the earl’s ; the pride of one, and the sordidness of the other, are always equally ridiculous, by the odd subjects of the pictures which are there seen : but generally in the choice of pictures, neither the analogy, taste, or agreement, one with another, are consulted. The broker only is advised with, who, on his part, consults only his own interest, of which he is much more capable of being a judge than he is of painting ; like a seller of old books, who knows how to say, here is an Elzevir Horace, or one of the Louvre edition; — and who knows all this, without being acquainted with poetry, or capable of :HOAG]B AILAMOISTE MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. 127 distinguishing an epigram from an epic poem. There is only one difference between a bookseller and a broker ; the first has certain marks by which he knows the edition, and the other is obliged to have recourse to inspiration, which is the only way whereby he is able to judge infallibly, as he does, whether a picture is an original one or no. But to return to our subject. The daughter of the alderman, now a widow, is returned to her father. Her lover has been taken and hanged for the murder of her husband : this she has learned from the dying speech, which is at her foot upon the floor. A conscience disturbed and tormented with remorse is very soon drove to despair. This woman, who by the consequence of her infidelity has destroyed her husband, her lover, her reputation, and her quiet, has nothing to lose but her life; this she does by taking laudanum. — She dies. An old servant in tears makes her kiss her child, the melancholy production of an unfortunate marriage. The alderman, more sensible of the least acquisition than of the most tragical events, takes, without emotion, a ring from the finger of his expiring daughter. The apothecary is severely repri- manding the ridiculous footman of the house who had procured the poison, the effects of which finish the catastrophe.” — Thus ends the strange eventful history. Lord Orford has the following just observations on the series of prints which form the subject of Marriage a-la-Mode. — “ An intrigue is carried on throughout the piece. He (Hogarth) is more true to character than Congreve; each personage is distinct from the rest, acts in his sphere, and cannot be confounded with any other of the dramatis personae. The alderman’s 128 MARRIAGE A-tA-MODE. foot-boy, in the last print, is an ignorant rustic ; and if wit is struck out from the characters in which it is not expected, it is from their acting conformably to their situation, and from the mode of their passions, and not from their having the wit of fine gentlemen. Thus, there is wit in the figure of the alderman, who when his daughter is expiring in the agonies of poison, wears a face of solicitude — but it is to save her gold ring, which he is gently drawing from her finger. The thought is parallel to Moliere’s, where the miser puts out one of the candles as lie is talking. Moliere in- imitable as he has proved, brought a rude theatre to perfection. Hogarth had no model to follow and improve upon.”* * Works, vol. ii. p. 452U JPJL.XKKV Ho garth, del* FTDiBILIEd: JLJE (C T’lJIRIE THE LECTURE. DATUR VACUUM. We are here presented with a motley assemblage of graduates and under-graduates of one of the universi- ties profoundly attending to a philosophical lecture the subject of which is vacuum , (or space unoccupied by matter.) Dulness and stupidity seem to characterize the drowsy audience. The portrait of the person read- ing the lecture is said to be that of the late Mr. Fisher, of Jesus College, Oxford, of which university he was registrar. He sat to the artist for this purpose. THE COCKPIT ROYAL. There are few scenes in life calculated to display the follies of mankind, which Hogarth did not seize an opportunity to expose. The print before us exhibits a subject every way worthy of his satirical pencil. Here is assembled a group of gamblers of every rank in society ; butchers, chimney-sweepers noblemen, post- boys, shoe-blacks, pick-pockets, thieves, — in a word, of blackguards of every possible denomination. The rational sport of cock-fighting is of very ancient origin ; it is well known to have been practised by the Greeks in the time of Themistocles : fi'om them it passed over to the Homans, who introduced this precious pastime into our country. It was encouraged in the reigns of Henry VIII. and James I. ; but espe- cially* by the thoughtless and licentious Charles II., under whose patronage was erected the “ Cockpit Royal,” which still continues to disgrace St. James’ Park. The scene of this print has been conjectured to be laid at Newmarket. The first object that strikes our attention in this motley assembly is the blind peer, (Lord Albemarle Bertie,) whom we shall have occasion to notice in a subsequent page. Full of cash, he is beset by a number of sharpers ; and so COCKPIT MOXATL. THE COCKPIT ROYAL. 131 intently is he engaged in betting with them, as to afford an opportunity to one of the gang of purloin- ing a bank note. Two ragged associates fruitlessly attempt to inform his lordship of the depredation. Near him, on the right of the plate, a man is regis- tering the bets ; next him is another with a bag, con- taining a favourite cock for a by-battle ; and by his side is a third, pointing to a piece of money, and vo- ciferously betting. On the left of the plate a curious group appears : among them we see a nobleman in imminent danger of suffocation from the individuals falling upon him : a luckless wight, unable to sup- port this solid pressure, has tumbled backwards with his head against the pit, into which his wig is fall- ing. Above, without the pit, is a Frenchman, ex- claiming with disgust against this savage sport ; and inadvertently dropping some snuff into the eyes of a man below him, who is sneezing and swearing most furiously. This figure is sketched with admi- rable spirit ; we can almost hear him sneeze. Behind the blind peer, a fellow is smoking his pipe with the utmost unconcern. In the middle of the pit is the shadow of a man suspended from the ceiling in a basket, and which Hogarth has introduced here for want of room. By one of the cock-pit laws, this punishment awaits every one who bets more money than he is able to pay. On this side of the pit are several persons, chiefly pos- tillions, all eagerly intent on betting. One of this group, on the left, (apparently a barber,) is furiously menacing with his stick a loser unable to pay ; and another is ruefully contemplating his empty purse. 132 THE COCKPIT ROYAL. The decorations of this apartment are, the King’s Arms, and a portrait of the notorious Nan Rawlins , who lived by gambling, and was a constant at- tendant at horse-races, cock-matches, and the like dignified amusements. In the margin, at the foot of the plate, is a small oval, comprising a fighting cock, on which was in- scribed Royal Sport, and beneath was written Pit Ticket. THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. MORNING. The scene of this plate is laid in Covent Garden ; the time is morning, about seven o’clock, and the season , winter , as is evident from the snow on the ground as well as on the roofs of the houses. Severe as the weather is, it does not deter the antiquated virgin here delineated from going to assist in the early service of the church. She is dressed with all the quaintness and formality peculiar to the sister- hood, and is followed by a slip-shod foot-boy carry- ing her prayer-book. Extreme cold is admirably delineated on the countenance of the shivering lad, who presents a fine contrast to his stiff mistress. Re- gardless of the beggar, who is supplicating her be>- nevolence, the sibyl pursues her walk, and seems to view with stem disdain the two girls who are amor- ously beset by a couple of rakes just issued from Tom King's coffee-house ; the entrance of which pre- sents a noble scene of confusion to the lovers of such sport. 134 THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. On the left of the plate, we see two urchins “ Creeping like snails unwillingly to school.”* Near them, a dealer in rice-milk is pointed out by two porringers and a spoon lying on the bottom of a basket ; and, a little further back, the celebrated quack-doctor, Rock, is vending his nostrums to the credulous populace. The hand of the clock pointing to the hour (seven o’ ©lock), the foot-marks in the snow, the icicles de- pending from the houses, the turnips, and other vegetables usually exposed to sale at this season of the year, all mark the artist’s attention to real life. * “ And school-boys lag, with satchels in their hands.” Swift’s Morning in Town. Hogarth probably had one, if not both, of these passages in view when he drew these boys. HoaajUi del W Q JPL.XL. 135 PLATE II. NOON. In this print the scene is laid at the door of the French church, in Hog Lane, St. Giles’s, whence the congregation are issuing. They are all characteris- tically dressed, and if we had no other guide by which to determine their nation, this alone would identify them. They present a strong contrast to the figures on the left of the plate, which form a whimsical group. A boy, having had the misfortune to break the dish and throw down the pudding, is loudly la- menting his dire mishap, while a hungry girl de- vours the smoking fragments. A servant-maid, passing with a pie from the bakehouse, is saluted by a black ; and, while she receives his sable caresses, the juice or gravy of her pie is poured upon the luckless urchin beneath. Above, are the signs of two houses for good cheer — the one, a cook’s-shop, is distinguished by the sign of the Baptist’s Head ; — the other, a vender’s of liquid fire [alias spirits)., is known by the sign of the Good Woman , beneath which are suspended sundry pewter measures. A humorous contrast to this last sign is presented by the termagant quarelling with her husband, and throwing the family dinner into the street. The dead kitten, and choked up kennel are supposed 136 THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. to convey an indirect hint of the negligence of the scavengers in that parish ; and some have conjectured that the kite hanging from the roof of the French Church, was designed to show that the French Protes- tants, after being expelled from their native country, had at length found a safe harbour from the malignant efforts of their enemies. 137 PLATE III. EVENING. Hogarth has in this print given us the return of a; worthy citizen, his wife and children, from a Sunday afternoon s ramble ; the spot, whence the scene is drawn, is that of a house of entertainment, known by the sign of the Sir Hugh Middleton ,* at the New-River * Some few particulars of this public-spirited man may not be unacceptable to our readers. Hugh Middleton was a native of Denbigh in North Wales, and settled in London, where he was a citizen and goldsmith. When* in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I., the citizens of London obtained a power to bring a new supply of water to the city from streams in Middlesex or Hertfordshire, various projects were considered for the purpose ; all of which were abandoned on account of the difficulty and expense. Undaunted by these objections, Middleton undertook the work ; and (the city having previously made over all its rights and powers to him and his heirs,) he, in 1608, began the work, by uniting two springs, (one in the vicinity of Ware, and the other rising at Amwell,) in order to supply an artificial river, which was conducted to the metropolis. This arduous undertaking was completed in 1613, on Michaelmas- day, in which year the water was admited into the reservoir at Islington. In the prosecution of this noble undertaking, Mr. Mid- dleton exhausted his private fortune ; and, having fruitlessly applied to the city of London for assistance, he made over a moiety of the concern to the king, in consideration of his taking an equal share of the expense. In 1622, this public-spirited man was created a baronet, and died in 1631. The value of the shares in this New River gradually advanced. 138 THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. Head, near Sadler’s Wells. Though formerly in great repute, this place has of late years become little better than an ale-house. In the parlour we behold several thorough-paced smokers, stripped of their wigs, and with handkerchiefs thrown over their heads, in order to enjoy the luxury of smoking, and at the same time inhale the refreshing summer breezes. The worthy citizens are so completely exhausted by fatigue, that their evening recreation is become toil- some and laborious. Without any profound skill in the science of physiognomy, it is not difficult to discover that the lady is absolute master of her husband’s person and prroperty as well as his honour : the first of these is sufficiently indicated by his carrying the child; the second , by the money they have just been spending in pursuit of the phantom —pleasure; and the last, our humorous artist has ingeniously contrived to display, by fixing a cow behind, so as to make the horns appear compactly above his head. By way of contrast , a fan is placed in her hand, on which the story of Venus and Adonis is delineated. Simplicity and submissiveness are stamped on the especially after the company obtained a farther supply of water from the river Lea; and an original hundred pounds share was, in the autumn of 1809, sold by auction for the sum of seventeen thousand five hundred pounds! Such has been the increase of wealth and population in London. Biographia s Britannica, Art. Middleton. Pennant's London, p. 229. Tour in Wales, p. 29. Will posterity credit that, beyond the precarious memorial of a publican’s sign, no monument exists in honour of a man to whom the inhabitants of the metropolis and its vicinity owe so many and such permanent obligations ? THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. 139 husband’s countenance. His eldest son, quaintly dressed with a cockade in his hat, is taking his evening’s ride on papa’s cane : the girl behind has all the embryon features of a shrew. In the early impressions of this plate, the face and neck of the woman were coloured with red, in order to shew her extreme heat ; as the man’s hands were tinged with blue , to intimate that he was by trade a dyer .* * Explanatory Description of Hogarth’s Designs (accompanying Hogarth Restored,) 4to. 1801, p. 59. NIGHT. This plate contains much broad humour, notwith- standing Lord Orford’s* opinion that it is inferior to the other three. The time is the 29th of May, as is evident from the oaken houghs upon the barber’s pole, and the oak-leaves in some of the freemasons’ hats; and on this account probably Hogarth has taken the scene from the narrow part of Charing Cross, within sight of the equestrian statue of Charles I. On each side are the Cardan’s Head and the Rummer Tavern, two celebrated bagnios of that day. The Salisbury Flying Coach , which has just started from the inn, is oversetting near a bonfire ; and the terror of the affrighted passengers is augmented by the entrance of a burning serpent into the coach thrown by some unlucky boy. On the opposite side of the plate, a waiter is leading home a freemason, over- powered with liquor, and who, from the cuts on his face, seems to have been involved in a fray. This is supposed to have been designed for Sir Thomas de Veil, a magistrate cotemporary with our artist, who was celebrated for his vigilance in punishing the keepers and tenants of houses of accommodation. This probability is strengthened by the circumstance of a * Works, vol, iii. p. 457. THE FOUR TIMES OF THE DAY. 141 servant showering her favours from a window of the Rummer Tavern upon his head. Beneath, is the shop of a barber-surgeon, illuminated with candles in com- memoration of the day. The operator’s sign is a hand drawing a tooth, the head being in exquisite pain : beneath was written, “ Shaving, bleeding , and teeth drawn with a touch. — Ecce signum ! (behold the sign." ) Through the window we behold the united operations of shaving and phlebotomy performed by a drunken apprentice. Below the barber’s bench a number of miserable wretches are herding together : though it is dark, we are enabled to discern these children of poverty by the light of the boy’s link, which he is blowing in order to kindle a squib. In the back ground is a cart laden with furniture, which the family are clan- destinely carrying off to elude their landlord. A house on fire at a distance reminds us that such accidents are not very uncommon on similar rejoicing nights. Upon the whole, though many other circumstances daily occur in the streets of the metropolis that might serve to distinguish the four parts of the day, yet these which Hogarth has selected appear to be the most striking, and evince him not only to be a proficient in his art, but also to possess a consummate knowledge of the town. THE DISTRESSED POET. “ Studious he sate, with all his boohs around, Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound ! Plung’d for his sense, but found no bottom there, Then writ, and flounder’d on in mere despair.” These verses from Pope’s Dunciad were originally annexed to some copies of the Distressed Poet , but subsequently erased : though not strictly applicable [one booh only lying on the table), it must however, be acknowledged, that they convey no inaccurate idea of the hapless son of Apollo, who is here introduced to our notice. The scene is laid in a garret , which serves at once for his study and the abode of his family ; every circumstance is calculated to display extreme penury. His wife is busily occupied in mending our poet’s breeches, from which her attention is diverted by the entrance of a clamorous milk-woman demanding pay- ment of her score. The attitude of the vociferous creditor and the confusion of the wife are well marked. On the table by our poet (who is supposed to have been designed for Theobald) lies Byshe’s “ Art of Poetry ,” a work long celebrated for its utility in jfof/tirth ajWT ■'riHUJS 2»* ©.snts 47 PLATE II. CANVASSING TOR VOTES. From an election entertainment to a canvass for votes the transition is natural. We are accordingly intro- duced to an active canvass by the opposite party. The scene is; a country village. In the centre of the print a country freeholder is beset by two inn-keepers, who solicit his vote and interest: both are offering bribes, hut one is much larger than the other^ and honest Hodge’s determination may pretty easily be guessed by the cast of his eye, which significantly in- timates, that though necessity obliges him to accept a douceur from both, conscience bids him vote for the most liberal paymaster. One of the candidates is conciliating the interest of two belles in a balcony, by purchasing a variety of trinkets from a Jew pedlar. During this transaction a porter delivers to our candidate a letter on his bended knee : he has also brought a quantity of printed bills to be distributed, which announce that Punch’s theatre is opened, and invite the worthy electors to behold his performances. The shew-cloth of this exhibition is allusive to the subject. The lower part represents Punch, profusely throwing money amongst the populace ; while the upper part offers a view of the Treasury, where a 48 CANVASSING FOR VOTES. waggon is in the act of being loaded with money, in order to secure parliamentary interest. In this piece Hogarth has seized the opportunity of ridiculing the clumsy and tasteless building of the Horse-guards; the arch^f which is so low, that the sovereign’s state- coachman, literally cannot pass with his head on ; the turret also at the top is so low, as to bear con- siderable resemblance to a porter-butt ! The inscrip- tion to this shew-cloth is appropriate enough : — “ PUNCH, CANDIDATE for GUZZLE-DOWN !” The woman in the corner, whom the grenadier eyes so wistfully, is the mistress of the inn : she is eagerly counting her money, seated on the head of an old ship that is placed at the door ; this represents a lion ready to devour a fieur de Its (the arms of the old French monarchy), and is no bad representation of that spirit of animosity which has now for so many centuries charac- terised the two nations. As this scene would be imperfect without some eating and drinking, our artist has introduced two men in the larder, very actively occupied in the exer- cise of their digestive organs; one is voraciously devouring a fowl, while the other attacks a buttock of beef. On the opposite (the left) side of the plate, two ale-house politicians — a barber and a cobbler, — are busily engaged in settling the concerns of the nation, and planning sieges with half-pence and pieces of tobacco-pipe. The back ground presents an English mob, assem- bled together for the patriotic purpose of break- ing the windows and demolishing the house opened by the contrary party. One of this party is mounted CANVASSING FOR VOTES. 49 on the cross-beam that supports the sign, and is skewering it through, forgetting that with it he also must be precipitated to the ground : in aid of his patriotic exertions, two fellows are with all their strength pulling a rope tied round the beam ; and so resolute are these assailants in their determinations, that they persist in their mischievous design, regard- less of the blunderbuss which the enraged landlord discharges at them. The several characters are finely discriminated. oO PLATE III. THE POLLING. All the necessary preliminaries being duly adjusted, the important day for polling arrives ; and we are now to contemplate both parties at the hustings, availing themselves of every possible experiment in order to swell the number of votes. The sick, the blind, the lame, the deaf, all are pressed into service on this occasion. The rival candidates are seated on two chairs at tMi back of the booth, (on the right of the plate) : one of them seems pretty well assured of his success, and is sitting perfectly at his ease, and resting upon his cane : while the countenance of his opponent is marked by all that anxiety which we may suppose to agitate the mind of a candidate, with the prospect of failure before him. We proceed to the parties tender- ing their votes. The tory interest, in order to support their pre- tensions, have called forth a maimed officer; who has lost a hand, an arm, and a leg in behalf of his country. The veteran laying his stump upon the book, the poll (or swearing) clerk bursts into a fit of laughter ; which he endeavours to stifle with his hand, and which is not a little increased by the two barristers disputing op©: THE POLLING. 51 the validity of his oath. The statute, it should be observed requires the right hand (not a stump ) to he laid upon the book, and furnishes abundant exercise to the quibbling talents of these professional gentry. On the other side, the whigs have brought a para- lytic deaf idiot; he is attended by a man in fetters, who instructs him by a whisper how he must give his vote. By the shackle on this man’s right leg, and the paper in his pocket (which is entitled “ The Sixth Let- ter to the People of England”), we ascertain him to be Dr. Shebbeare, of turbulent memory ; and that he came into disgrace for being the author of that pub- lication.* Behind him is another freeholder brought (almost dying) from his bed. So severe i% the contest, that the opposition are reduced to the necessity of procuring votes, even at the risk of life. The squibs, &c. usually incident to elections, are not wanting here. At the extremity of the hustings a woman is chanting a goodly ballad, the head-piece of which is a gibbet (emblematic of its contents) ; which the«populace below regard with much glee and attention. Amid the numerous little strokes of humour which might be pointed out, we must not omit * The doctor is said to have frequently asserted in a coffee-house that he would have either a pillory or a pension. He was indulged with both. In 1 759 his “ Seventh Letter to the People of England ” exposed him to the resentment of the government ; he was pilloried, and imprisoned for two years. On the accession of his late majesty, he laid aside his hostility to the existing government, together with his attachment to the Stuart family; and received a pension from Lord Bute. He testified his gratitude by publishing several pamphlets on the side of government, especially at the commencement of the American war. 52 THE POLLING. to notice the fellow who is sketching the countenance of the (apparently) unsuccessful candidate. In the left-hand corner, adverting to the disgraceful scenes of venal corruption that formerly attended elections, Hogarth has introduced the Chariot of Bri- tannia breaking down, and Tier life in danger, while the coachman and footman are playing at cards upon the box, regardless of the shrieks of their mistress. Although (Lord Orford remarks) Hogarth was not happy in the introduction of this allegoric personage, yet it must be admitted that it is an admirable stroke at the interested motives of venal statesmen, who regard their own personal advantage rather than the promotion of their country’s true interests. On the bridge in the back-ground, we discern a carriage with colours flying, and a host of freeholders proceeding to the hustings, in order to give their free and inde- pendent votes. THE CHAIMG, 53 PLATE IV. CHAIRING THE MEMBER. At length the poll is closed ; and the successful can- didate, seated in an arm-chair borne by four lusty men, is here performing his triumphant tour round the principal streets of the borough for which he is returned to parliament. As usual in these cases, he is surrounded both by friends and foes, who mutually express their regards, not indeed in the most orderly manner. A thresher defending his pigs, brandishes his flail at a sailor : which, in its tremendous whirl, comes in contact with the skull of one of the bearers. He reels, — he staggers at such an unexpected salute ; and the person of the member is in imminent danger of being precipitated to his mother earth. His hat is taking an aerial flight, in which his tye-wig seems likely also to participate. Alarmed at his perilous situation, a lady in the church-yard faints away in her servants’ arms : in the meantime, two urchin sweeps divert themselves by placing a pair of gingerbread spectacles upon a death’s head, which appears on the gate-post. To increase the confusion, while the bear is devouring some offal, the monkey seated on his back has a carbine by his side, which accidentally goes 54 CHAIRING THE MEMBER. off, and kills the sweep upon the wall.* The ancient fiddler seems determined to enjoy his own music, not knowing which of the two parties is most deserving of his suffrage. In the opposite corner, a soldier is regaling him- self with a cheekful of the best Virginia, and prepar- ing to dress himself after a pugilistic contest. Close by, three different cooks are conveying as many covers to the lawyer’s house ; in the first floor of which a company of the Tory party are recreating them- selves with beholding the noise and confusion below. One of these personages (who is distinguished by a ribbon), is said to be designed for the late Duke of Newcastle, who was unusually busy at elections, in order to establish an interest by making court to the lowest of the people. Fighting and drinking being the ordinary con- comitants of such festive occasions as that now before us, Hogarth has introduced some correspondent figures. We see in the back-ground two fellows forcing their way through the crowd, with two barrels of home- brewed ale : and close by them, a woman is inflicting condign punishment on her husband for leaving his * This has been supposed to allude to the following circum- stance, which took place during the Oxfordshire Election, in 1754. At the conclusion of the scrutiny, the gentlemen of the new interest (as they were called) set out in a grand cavalcade down the High-street. On Magdalen Bridge, some dirt and stones being thrown by the populace of the other party, a pistol was dis- charged from a postchaise, and shot a chimney-sweeper who was active in the assault. Gent. Mag. vol. xxiv. p. 289. CHAIRING THE MEMBER. 55 business : by the thread round his neck, and the scis- sors by his side, we ascertain that he is a tailor. Our artist (it has been remarked) seems to have had a pecu- liar antipathy to persons of this trade. In Le Brun’s celebrated picture of the ‘ Battle of the Granicus ,’ the painter has represented an eagle hovering over Alex- ander’s helmet; and this idea our artist has whimsi- cally parodied by delineating a goose fluttering over the tye-wig of the trembling candidate. “ The ruined house” (Mr. Nichols has appropri- priately remarked) “ adjoining «to the attorney’s, is a stioke of satire that should not be overlooked ; because it intimates that nothing can thrive in the neighbour- hood of such vermin .” — It was however, more pro- bably destroyed by the riotous mob, as having belonged to one of the adverse party.* Although, in the present scene, we see only one member actually chaired, yet from the shadow against the town-hall, we may infer that the procession of the other successful candidate is just setting out. Against the church is a sun-dial, with the motto— we must, beneath it; intimating that we must die — all. This, it must be confessed, is but a poor pun, but it is probable that Hogarth intended it so to be under- stood. All the incidents in this plate are whimsically yet skilfully combined, and with a strict regard to nature. The arch roguery of the sweeps on the wall, —the pallid fear imprinted on the countenance of the * Nichols's Hogarth, vol. i. 56 CHAIRING THE MEMBER. member, — the self-complacency of the scraper on cat-gut, — the meagre French cook, and the other two English cooks, are all replete with humour, and are in every point of view most strikingly charac- teristic. BEER STREET AND GIN LANE. We have already had occasion to remark the atten- tion which Hogarth has paid to the selection of such subjects for many of his pictures, as were calculated to instruct, while they delighted the eye of the observer. The design of this print, and of its companion piece (Gin Lane) , is thus stated by the artist himself. “ When these two prints were designed and en- graved, the dreadful consequences of gin-drinking appeared in every street. In Gin Lane every circum- stance of its horrid effects is brought to view, in ter- rorem. Idleness, poverty, misery, and distress, which drives even to madness and death, are the only objects to be seen ; and not a house in tolerable condition, but the Pawnbroker’s and Gin shop. “ Beer Street, its companion, was given as a con- trast; where that invigorating liquor is recommended, in order to drive the other out of vogue. Here, all is joyous and thriving. Industry and jollity go hand in hand. In this happy place the pawnbroker’s is the only house going to ruin ; and even the small quantity of porter that he can procure is taken in at the wicketj for fear of farther distress.”* These two plates were published in the year 1751. * Ireland’s Hogarth, vol. iii, 3.15. VOL. II. E 58 BEER STREET. J¥lotto. “ Beer, happy produce of our isle, Can sinewy strength impart ; And, wearied with fatigue and toil, Can cheer each manly heart. “ Labour and art, upheld by thee, Successfully advance ; We quaff the balmy juice with glee, And water leave to France. “ Genius of health ' thy grateful taste Rivals the cup of Jove : And warms each English generous breast, With liberty and love.” In this print, Hogarth offers to our view an excellent representation of John Bull in his happiest moments. A general cessation from work appears to have taken place ; and all parties are regaling themselves with refreshing draughts of the cheering liquor Porter, not that deleterious mixture which rumour asserts to have been imposed a few years since on the lower classes,— but the tvholesome beverage, brewed from BEER STREET. 59 genuiue malt and hops, which is calculated at once to nourish and strengthen the honest labourer. On the left, we have a group of jovial tap-house politicians, consisting of a butcher, a cooper, or black- smith (for the trade of this personage has not yet been ascertained by the illustrators of our artist), and a drayman. The two former grasp a foaming pot of porter ; and the cooper or blacksmith having just bought a shoulder of mutton, is waving it in the air. In the first stage of this print Hogarth had represented this man as elevating an astonished Frenchman from the ground, with one hand : but the idea being rather too extravagant, he afterwards altered the engraving as it now stands. By the king’s speech*" and the Daily uddvertiser lying on the table before them, it is evident they have been study- ing the arranging the affairs of the nation. The drayman (the last of this trio) is whispering a soft tale to the servant girl, round whose waist he has thrown one arm, while the other grasps a foaming tankard. The simplicity of the girl, in listening to this fellow’s addresses, excites the risible faculties of the butcher, who indulges himself in hearty laughter at her expence. On the right, a city porter has just set down Iris load of books, consigned for waste paper to Mr. Pas- * speech of his Majesty, George II., contains the follow- ing (among other) passages, which were much admired at the time they were published — •“ Let me earnestly recommend to you the advancement of our commerce , and cultivating the arts of peace ,• in which you may depend on my hearty concurrence and encouragement E 2 GO BEER STREET. tem the trunk-maker, in St. Paul’s Church-yard ; and is about to recruit his spirits by an invigorating draught. Two fishwomen in the centre are supplied with a flaggon of beer, and are singing witli much glee Mr. Lockman’s verses on the herring fishery.* Behind, some paviours are refreshing themselves while at work; and still further in the back-ground, two chairmen have set down their massy load (a dame of quality going to court), and are in like mannei resting their exhausted strength and spirits. In a garret window we see three journeymen tailors, and on the roof of the adjoining house several bricklayers, all partaking of the general hilarity. This next house belongs to a publican ; whom, by his repairing it, we may reasonably infer to be in the high ‘ way to wealth ;’ while the pawnbroker’s dwell- ing opposite, is fast verging to decay for want of trade. The meagre, lank-visaged artist, who is copying a bottle from one hanging before him, has been con- sidered as a satire on John Stephen Liotard, a pro- trait painter and enameller, who came from Geneva in the reign of George II., and of whom Lord Orford has left the following character. “ Devoid of imagination, and one would think of memory, he could render nothing but what he saw * At the time these prints were published, British herrings became very plentiful, under the protection of the society for promoting the British fisheries. To this society Mr. Lockman was secretary: the ballad in question which he wrote on the herring fishery was set to music, and sung with very great applause at Vauxliall. / BEER STREET. 61 before his eyes; freckles, marks of the small -pox every thing found, its place : not so much from fidelity as because he could not conceive the absence of any thing that appeared to him. Truth prevailed in all his works, grace in very few or none.”* * Works, vol. iii. 474. JWotto. “ Gin, cursed fiend, with fury fraught. Makes human race a prey ; It enters by a deadly draught, And steals our life awey. “ Virtue and truth, driv’n to despair, Its rage compels to fly : But cherishes, with hellish care, Theft — murder — perjury. “Damn’d cup ! that on the vitals preys. That liquid fire contains, "Which madness to the heart conveys, And rolls it through the veins.” The last scene presented us with a faithful delineation of health, content, and good humour : we have now to contemplate the hideous contrast, produced by the general use of British spirits among the poor. In Beer Street it may be recollected that all the houses ( the pawnbroker s only excepted ) were in good repair. In Gin Lane , Master Gripe’s alone (beside the dwell- ings of the distiller and undertaker) is in good con- GIN LANE. 63 dition ; nearly all the others being in a tottering, ruin- ous state. This miscreant’s name and business admira- bly correspond. Behold him (on the right of the plate) scrutinizing the tendered articles by way of pledge, lest he should lend too much upon them. One of his customers is a journeyman carpenter, pawning his saw; while a tattered female brings her tea-kettle and other articles in order to obtain the means of pur- chasing the deleterious (may we be permitted to add infernal ) spirit, which has — vulgarly indeed — but most emphatically, been termed strip me naked ! Opposite the pawnbroker’s door, against the wall, are two figures stupified by the noxious draught ; one of them (a woman) has fallen asleep, and thereby gives the snail — fit emblem of sloth — an opportunity of creeping over her. The other, a boy, tormented with famine, which is indelibly impressed on his coun- tenance, is gnawing a bare bone, the possession of which a hungry bull-dog is contesting with him. At the top of the steps a more disgusting object presents itself. An intoxicated mother (whose legs are broken out into ulcers) is taking snuff, regardless of her infant, which falls into the area of a gin cellar. Over the entrance to this cavern of despair, an in- scription was engraved on the larger plates, but which would not have been legible in our copies, if we had attempted to have introduced them : it is however too horribly appropriate to be omitted, and runs as follows: — '“drunk for a penny: dead drunk for twopence: clean straw for nothing.” At the foot of the steps, a retail vender of gin and ballads is at the point of expiring ; corroded by the GIN LANE. 64 constant use of that ardent spirit, we see him reduced to a skeleton, after having pawned or bartered his shirt, waistcoat, and stockings. The scene in the back-ground is not less disgusting. Among the various figures introduced, we see an old woman in the act of being conveyed to her lodg- ings in a wheelbarrow, followed by a young fellow, who tenders an additional glass to her. In the gar- ret above, a barber has in a fit of insanity hung him- self; beneath, is a crowd assembled at the door of Killman, the distiller, anxiously expecting their re- spective allowances. Among them, we contemplate a mother drenching her infant with the liquid Jire ; while two charity girls are mutually drinking healths in the same detestable beverage; and still further back, two (apparently) lame beggars are quarrelling, — one of whom wields his crutch with much dexterity, while his antagonist levels a stool at his devoted head. Two more objects remain to be noticed. The one is a beautiful female, killed by the excessive use of this ardent spirit, whose corpse two men are placing in a shell by order of the parish beadle. The officer’s compassionate attention seems to be directed to her orphan child, who is loudly lamenting for the loss of its mother. The other object is a dancing maniac, “ grinning horribly a ghastly smile,” with a pair of bellows in one hand, and his child impaled on a spit in the other. The agonized mother is screaming behind him. But we forbear to expatiate on a subject so detestably horrid as this part of the present plate. The scene is laid in St. Giles’s parish, the lower inhabitants of which in Hogarth’s time were notorious GIN LANE. 65 for their immorality and depravity : although circum- stances have somewhat changed the face of things, still that part of the metropolis calls aloud for the intervention of some friendly power. And the curious observer of manners, who is disposed to risk his person, may in some parts still behold the pewter measures chained to the tables of the liquor houses, and hear the chains clanked, in order that the empty vessels may be replenished. THE INVASION ; OR, ENGLAND AND FRANCE. PLATE I. ENGLAND. Jttotto. “ 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 fo 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.” This print and its companion were published in the year 1756, when a war broke out between this country and Erance. The present scene is designed to shew the alacrity of all parties in coming forward on that occasion, in order to support their country’s interest. E^t&ILAjnD ENGLAND. 67 In the group on the right, a gallant peasant re- linquishes the guidance of the plough, to wield a musket ; and lest his being under the standard should cause his rejection, he is deceiving the serjeant by standing on tip-toe. On the opposite side, a grenadier is chalking on the wall of the public-house a figure of his majesty of France, whose robe is covered with fleur-de-lis ; and agreeable to the custom of that day, a label is appended to his mouth with the following sentences : — •“ You take a' my fine ships ; you he de pirate ; you he de teef ; me send my grand armies and hang you all” Correspondent with this threat, the grand monarque grasps in one hand a gibbet, and lays the other on his; sword. This circumstance excites the mirth of the soldier and sailor, who with their girls are standing by, and seem greatly to enjoy this chef d' oeuvre of art. One of the latter places her forefinger against the prongs of a fork, to shew (Mr. Ireland observes), that the per- formance has some point, while the other measures the capacious breadth of the military artist’s shoulders. The scene is laid at the sign of the late gallant Duke of Cumberland , who is mounted on a proud charger : on the table out of doors. a buttock of beef invites attention. The soldier has laid his sword across the latter, and the sailor has placed his pistols over a tankard of strong beer. The paper lying on the table is the celebrated national song of “ Bide Britannia and the little fifer playing God save the King , is the same whom we have seen in the March to. Finchley. 68 ENGLAND. The back ground exhibits a sergeant drilling a com - pany of young recruits. The mirth, good humour, and air of content de- lineated on the countenances of the figures here intro- duced, presents a striking contrast to the lank and meagre personages whom we now proceed to contem- plate in the companion to this print. mm (DOB r 69 PLATE II. PRANCE. J¥lotto. “ With lanthorn jaws, and croaking gut, Sec 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.”* The scene before ns represents an embarkation of French troops, in order to invade England : so little are the troops disposed to go on this hazardous expe- dition, that the sergeant is obliged to goad them on with his halbert! The meagre appearance of the troops is very broadly accounted for by their unsubstantial diet. * These verses and those in the preceding print were written by Mr. Garrick; 70 FRANCE. The foreground of this plate exhibits a little ale-house, whose sign is a wooden shoe , with the inscription (which could not here he reduced so as to he legible) “ soup maigre a la sabot royal" — (soup meager at the royal wooden shoe.) In the larder, such as it is, some bones of beef (void of flesh) are suspended, and an officer is in the very humble office of roasting a number of frogs, which he has spitted on his sword. Close by him' is the royal standard of France, which has (in the larger prints) the following inscription in large letters : — “ VENGEANCE, AVEC LE BON BIER, ET BON BEUF, d’angleterre,” — Vengeance with the good beer and good beef of England. This seems to excite a momen- tary joy in the countenances of some of the soldiers, who apparently are devouring by anticipation our substantial British fare. But though the military do not in general relish this expedition, the priest before us seems to enjoy much gratification in the prospect of compelling the heretics to return into the bosom of the church. The scroll in the sledge contains a plan for a monastery to be erected at Blackfriars ; and in the same vehicle he has already deposited an image of St. Anthony, accompanied by his pig, a gibbet, scourges, wheels, and other instruments of torture; and is in the act of adding to them an axe, the sharpness of whose edge he is trying with his fingers. These are designed for the establishment of a British Inquisition. In the back ground, in order to intimate that agri- culture must suffer by the invasion having taken away all the men, two women are introduced ploughing up a barren promontory. If we may credit the assertions FRANCE. 71 of some recent travellers in France, the restless am- bition of its late ruler furnished such incessant employment for his male subjects who were capable of hearing arms, that the agricultural labour was, in several departments, performed almost exclusively by women. THE COUNTRY INN- YARD; OR, THE STAGE COACH. The scene here presented to us is such an one as must be familiar to the recollection of every spectator, who has left his tranquil home, whether for business or for pleasure. The bustle and consequence of the land- lady in the bar, are well contrasted by the obsequi- ousnesss of the landlord ; who seems to be vouching for the moderation of every item in his bill. His asseve- rations do not appear to carry conviction to the mind of the paymaster. A fat lady is forcing her way into the coach, while a fellow-traveller holds her dram- bottle. Opposite to the latter, a rich old fellow (who has come part of his way in a post-chaise) disregards the application of the hump-backed postilion for the accustomed fee. The old dame in the basket behind, enjoys her pipe of "Virginia with great complacency. On the roof of the vehicle are seated an English sailor and a French lacquey, whose countenances afford a good contrast of the manners of the two nations. The noise and confusion usually incident to coun. try-inn yards are much increased by the noisy fellow COUHTRX TAKB - THE COUNTRY INN-YARD. 73 at the window, who is raising some dulcet notes on his French horn, while the landlady rings in vain for her chambermaid, whom a fellow is kissing in the passage. And in the hack-ground an election proces- sion is about to set out. The performers in this farce have chaired a figure, in one of whose hands they have placed a horn-book, and in the other a rattle. This was intended for Child Lord Castlemain (afterwaids Lord Tylney), who opposed Sir Robert Abdy and Mr. Bramston, in a strong contest for the county of Essex. The horn-book, bib, and rattle are obviously allusive to the name, viz. Child. At the election a man was placed on a bulk, with a figure representing a child in his arms : and as he whipped it, he ex- claimed— “ What, you little child , must you be a member ?” In this disputed election, it appeared from the register book of the parish where Lord Castlemain was born, that he was only twenty years of age when he offered himself a candidate. The family name was changed from Child to Tylney, by act of parliament, in the year 1735. Trusler thinks that the scene is at an inn on the Dover Road, but it is more likely to be somewhere in Essex ; though it has puzzled the ingenuity of former illustrators of our artist to ascertain the particular place. PAUL BEFORE FELIX. PLATE I. JtTotto. “ And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to ome, Felix trembled.” — Acts xxiv. 25. The original picture is at present in Lincoln’s Inn Hall, in which the Lord Chancellor holds his sittings after the several terms, for dispatching the suits in the Court of Chancery ; which, being a court of equity, is, perhaps not inappositely, decorated with a picture repesenting an unjust judge writhing under all the tortures of an agonized, guilty conscience. As the circumstances to which the artist alludes must he familiar to every one who peruses the sacred volume, we proceed directly to a concise examination of the print. The proconsul Felix is surrounded by the fasces, standard, and other appendages of office. He is recorded to have been rapacious, intemperate, and unjust : with peculiar propriety, therefore, does the apostle urge righteousness and temperance, and en- force his appeal by the doctrine of a future judgment. The magistrate trembles, while the prisoner speaks JRATIXIL BIEJIFCDTR,]® fEJUKT PAUL BEFORE FELIX. 75 with firmness ; the prisoner, though in chains, makes his judge tremble ! The attention of the whole court is fixed, and their countenances indicate the thoughts that agitate their breasts. One is enraptured at his doctrine ; a second receives the dreadful truths with salutary fear; while a third is internally con- victed, a fourth hangs as it were on the apostle’s lips for the celestial accents. Even Tertullus (who is standing under the column on the right) ceases his accusation with disappointed amazement. The phy- siognomy of the high priest Ananias, evidently de- clares his abhorrence of the man ; and indicates, that notwithstanding he is unable to resist the convincing weight of the apostle’s arguments, still he cannot conceal his professed hatred of Christians. Although Hogarth does not excel in historical composition, yet it must be admitted, that this pic- ture is not altogether unworthy of his talents. The characters are all strongly marked ; the attitudes are judiciously varied. 70 PLATE II. PAUL BEFORE FELIX. There is but little difference between this plate and the last. The countenances indeed are somewhat varied, and Drusilla, the wife of Felix, is here intro- duced, agreeably to the sacred record. The artist has described her as a fine woman ; whose beauty is height- ened by the contrasted features of the persons around her. The presence of this woman serves to exalt the character of Paul, th#subject of whose discourse be- fore Felix is chosen with singular propriety. Drusilla was a Jewess ; her first husband (a heathen sovereign) submitted to the most rigorous ceremony of Judaism, in order to gratify her: but Felix being struck with her charms, prevailed on her to leave her lawful hus- band and marry him. Drusilla is not the first person whom ambition, or the love of riches and honour has prevailed upon to desert the sober path of rectitude. This print is also from the original in Lincoln’s Inn Hall, but is less known than the preceding picture on the same subject ; the wife of Felix having been omitted because the apostle’s hand was impro- perly placed before her. Though the present plate has been held in little estimation, yet, as an un- doubted production of Hogarth’s pencil it was too valuable to be omitted : we have therefore given it a place in our collection. Jlogardh del* JPATOTL BEFORE MS MX PA.TOL, JBJEFOJKOE FIEILIX: * 77 PLATE III. PAUL BEFORE FELIX. . The avowed design of this very humorous print was to ridicule Kembrandt’s style of etching, which prevailed greatly at the time Hogarth flourished. The dramatis personae are the same as in the two former plates. The proconsiul may easily be ascertained by his laurelled brow; Drusilla (who sits next him) is de- lineated with a dog in her lap, in ridicule of the foolish fondmess of some modern ladies for the canine race ; her olfactory nerves, as well as those of her com- panion, appear to be violently affected. The high- priest, swollen with pride and indignation, seems almost to start from his seat and sacrifice the apostle, but that a senator prevents him ; while Tertullus, arrayed as a serjeant at lam , is rending his brief in a fit of mortified pride and revenge. The attitudes and countenances of the officers of the court, and other spectators are correspondent with the true Dutch style, which this print was designed to satirize. Our artist has delineated Paul as a little mean- looking man, and accordingly has placed him on a stool, in order that he may command the court. A fat un- wieldy guardian angel lies asleep at his feet; of which opportunity a little imp avails himself with a malig- nant grin, to saw the leg of the stool asunder, and precipitate the apostle to the ground. Behind creeps p 78 PAUL BEFORE FELIX. a black snarling cur, belonging to Felix, whose name appears inscribed on the collar round his neck. He seems ready to seize St. Paul the moment his tottering stool gives way. Above, on the left of the print, appears a jolly statue of Justice, one only of whose eyes is covered: she stands majestically poising in one hand [the impartial scales, while the other brandishes a butcher's knife , on the blade of which is engraven a dagger, (the arms of the City of London) . This corpulent god- dess, grown fat by the law, is scarcely able to support the massy bags of gold that hang at her side. At the feet of Tertullus, a malicious imp of dark- ness is eagerly gathering up the fragments of his brief; and at the table behind him several curious person- ages are introduced. One of these (a woman) is fast asleep, regardless of the apostle’s torrent of eloquence ; the next, who is apparently the cleric in court , is sagaciously mending a pen ; the olfactory senses of the two next are grievously offended by some noxious odour, the cause of which is pointed out by the vener- able bearded figure next the scribe. ' The Jew who stands next is in an attitude of amaze at the vehe- ment action and language of Paul. The print now described was originally given as a receipt ticket to the serious Paul before Felix , and to Moses brought before Pharaoh's Daughter. The drowsy angel (Mr. J. Ireland has been informed) was intended for Luke Sullivan, an engraver whom Hogarth frequently employed; but it is by no means certain who was the original portrait of Tertullus : by some it has been said to represent a Mr. Hugh Campbell, an PAUL BEFORE FELIX. 79 advocate not remarkable for much elegance of style or politeness of manners ; while others assert it to have been designed for Dr. W. King, formerly principal of St. Mary’s Hall, Oxford ; and in proof of their asser- tion, refer to an ascertained portrait in Worlidge’s View of- Lord Westmoreland's Installation, (1761,) to which it has a striking resemblance.* Mr. J. Ireland's Hogarth, vol. ii. p. 88. THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION. Tiib scene of the present picture is laid in a country church, erected it should seem at a time when our ancestors paid hut little regard to the lighter orders of architecture ; the sombre appearance of the edifice is sufficient of itself to invite the occupiers of its pews to gentle slumber, independent of any gentle opiate which the officiating minister may supply. The text* from which our drowsy divine is preach- ing, is admirably suited to the rustic audience ; who, fatigued by the labour of the preceding week, have taken him at his word, and who (with the exception of two wakeful old dames and the clerk) are all quietly taking their rest. As it was formerly the custom to place an hour-glass by the preacher’s side by way of admonition, our pulpit orator is accordingly equipped with that memento of departing hours ; and on the side of the pulpit the following appropriate text, (which could not be sufficiently reduced to be legible here) was inscribed : — “ I am afraid of you , lest I have bestowed upon you labour in vain,” — (Gal. iv. 2.) The drawling manner of the parson is delineated in his countenance. * “ Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and / will give you rest.” (Matt. xi. 28.) J»2.. S JLJE3E JPJEET © C©I«.B (SATKDIT iXT the SLEEPING CONGREGATION. 81 The clerk beneath is a worthy associate of such a pastor ; his physiognomy is expressive of all that self- consequence which frequently marks these sapient officers of the church. It is evident that a warmer subject occupies his attention than the eloquence of the clergyman. He is wantonly gazing at a damsel who has fallen asleep while studying the office of matrimony, and who is probably dreaming of all the joys incident to wedded life. The fellows snoring below appear to be well practised performers in nasal music, and together with the harmonious notes breathed slowly and solemnly from the nasal organs of the men in. the gallery above, they unite in form- ing a delightful concert, in which, however, the thorough-bass seems to preponderate. The windows of the church (though apparently designed to match) do not correspond; over them are the royal arms, the motto of which is supported by a flying angel, that more resembles one of Nep- tune’s Tritons than a celestial messenger. The tri- angle surrounded by a glory is the manufacture of some rural mechanic, who thereby designed to con- vey an idea of the most sacred doctrine of Chris- tianity ; a doctrine founded indeed upon the infallible volume of inspiration, but which such clumsy repre- sentations as these are rather calculated to bring into contempt than to explain. The soporific pastor is said (on what authority we know not) to have been designed for Hr. Desaguliers. VOL. II. P THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE. A powerful contrast to the preceding print is offered to our consideration in the picture now to be described. It is a representation of one of the Theatres Royal; and exhibits (at the bottom) one end of the orchestra, — behind, a corner of the pit, and above, part of the side boxes. Here we beheld two beaux, arrayed in all the fantastic garb of the haut ton ; one of them is holding amorous parley with an orange girl, while the other presents his snuff-box to a lady. Notwith- standing the pit (with the exception of one stern critic oniy) appear convulsed with laughter, these personages have too much politeness to pay any attention to the comedy which is performing. The dress of the beaux affords no bad chronicle of the disregard entertained by ohr forefathers for those antiquated things, called convenience and consistency. In the laughter-loving faces in the pit, we may observe every gradation, from the prudish simper to the broad grin of boyish folly,— the smile of approba- tion, and the loud roar of sapient applause. 1 he three musicians in the orchestra are so accus- THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE. 83 tomed to similar scenes, that they pay as little regard to the humour of the piece as the sage critic, whose head is covered by an enormous bushy peruke. The laughing audience was published in 1733, as a subscription ticket to the “ Rake’s Progress” and “ Southwark Fair.” — The receipt was afterwards cut off: COLUMBUS BREAKING THE EGG. This print also was engraved as a receipt ticket, and was in 1752 given by Hogarth to the subscribers for his “ Analysis of Beauty.” Its design is to ridicule that spirit of detraction which refuses the deserved meed to real merit, and to useful discoveries. As the history of Columbus is, in fact, the history of the discovery of the new world (for he unquestion- ably first discovered the continent of America, and not America Vespucci,) we are of necessity restricted to a simple recital of the anecdote, on which the print is founded. In the year 1499, Columbus (who was a native of Genoa) sailed on a voyage of discovery at the expense of Ferdinand and Isabella, the sovereigns of Spain, when he first explored the continent of America. On # his return home, he met with the reception which has not unfrequently been given to men of distinguished merit. The Spaniards, instead of rightly estimating the services he had rendered to them, undervalued and even ridiculed the discoveries he had made. To convince them of the folly of such a mode of thinking CQMTMBErS BREAKING TIE EGG. COLUMBUS BREAKING THE EGG. 85 and acting, at a public supper he proposed to some of these malignants to set an egg upright on its smaller end. The table was cleared, and after these bunglers had fruitlessly attempted it,— We will try, ■said the adventurous navigator ; and striking the small end of the egg smartly upon the table, it remained erect. The emotions to which this simple discovery gave existence are strongly delineated in the faces ot the haughty dons. Disappointed pride is evidently stamped on the two whose fingers are applied to the eggs, in order to keep them upright ; a drivelling sim- per appears in him who stands at Columbus s right hand ; the speckled phiz of the man on his left is sin- gularly expressive of stupid astonishment ; while the proud senor behind his chair belabours his stupid head for not hitting on the right way. Columbus, however, maintains the dignity of a great mind, con- scious of its superiority. The articles on the table are introduced with great propriety : the eels twisted round the eggs are illus- trative of the line of beauty explained in the Analysis : and which is further intimated by the curve of the knives and forks lying upon the table. The treatment of Columbus evidently refers to that which the artist himself expected to incur from the critics, and which he in fact did receive on what he called his own discovery, and which he has illus- trated in the above-mentioned treatise. SARAH MALCOLM, WHO WAS EXECUTED ON WEDNESDAY THE 7TH OF MARCH, FOR THE MURDER OF MRS. LYDIA DUNCOMBE, ELIZABETH HARRISON, AND ANN PRICE. The portrait of this murderess was painted in New- gate, by Hogarth, to whom'she sat for her picture two days before her execution, having previously dressed herself for the purpose. The circumstances attending the conviction and execution of this woman are briefly these. On Sunday, Feb. 4, 1733, Mrs. Lydia Duncombe, (aged 60,) and Elizabeth Harrison her companion, were found strangled, and Ann Price (her maid, aged 17,) with her throat cut, at Mrs. Duncombe’s apart- ments in Tanfield Court, in the Inner Temple. Sarah Malcolm (who was a chare- woman) was on the same evening apprehended . on the information of Mr. Ker- rel, who had chambers on the same staircase, and who had found some bloody linen under his bed, and a silver tankard in a close-stool, which she had con- cealed there.* * Our account is drawn up from a careful comparison of the Gent. Mag. vol. iii. (for February and March, 1733,) p. 97, 99, 137, 153, with Mr. J. Ireland’s narrative in his Hogarth Illustrated, vol. ii. p, 3L3, 321, to which we refer once for all. S-AJE^AJHI WA7L (T* (OJUM: SARAH MALCOLM. 87 On her examination before Sir Richard Brocas, she confessed to sharing in the produce of the robbery, but declared herself innocent of the murders; assert- ing upon oath, that Thomas and James Alexander, and Mary Tracy, were principal parties in the whole transaction. Notwithstanding this, the coroner’s jury brought in their verdict of wilful murder against Sarah Malcolm only, it not then appearing that any other person was concerned. Her confession they con- sidered as a mere subterfuge, none knowing such people as she pretended were her accomplices. A few days after, a boy about seventeen years of age was hired as a servant by a person who kept the Red Lion alehouse at Bridewell Bridge ; and hearing it said, in his master’s house, that Sarah Malcolm had given in an information against one Thomas and James Alexander, and Mary Tracy, said to his mas- ter, “ My name is James Alexander, and I have a brother named Thomas, and my mother nursed a woman where Sarah Malcolm lived.” Upon this acknowledgment, the master sent to Alstone, turn- key of Newgate ; and the boy being confronted with Malcolm, she immediately charged him with being concealed under Mrs. Duncombe’s bed, previously to letting in Tracy and his brother, by whom and him- self the murders were committed. On this evidence he was detained; and frankly telling where his bro- ther and Tracy were to be found, they also were taken into custody, and brought before Sir Richard Brocas : here Malcolm persisted in her former asseverations ; but the magistrate thought her unworthy of credit, and would have discharged them ; but being advised 88 SARAH MALCOLM. by some persons present to act with more caution, committed them all to Newgate. Their distress was somewhat alleviated by the gentlemen of the Temple Society, who, fully convinced of their innocence, al- lowed each of them one shilling per diem during the time of their confinement. This ought to be recorded to the honour of the lam , as it has not often been the practice of the profession. Though Malcolm’s presence of mind seems to have forsaken her at the time when she lurked about the Temple, without making any attempt to escape, and left the produce of her theft in situations that ren- dered discovery inevitable, she by the time of trial recovered her recollection, made a most acute and ingenious defence,* and cross-examined the wit- nesses with all the black-robed artifice of a gentleman bred up to the bar. The circumstances, were, how- ever, so clear as to leave no doubt in the minds of the court, and the jury brought in their verdict, guilty. On Wednesday, the 7th of March, about ten in the morning, she was taken in a cart from Newgate to the place of execution, facing Mitre-court, Fleet Street, and there suffered death on a gibbet erected for the occasion. She was neatly dressed in a crape mourning gown, white apron, sarcenet hood, and black gloves ; carried her head aside with an air of * One part of her defence was, it must be acknowledged, rather weak : she declared that seventeen pounds of the money found in her hair was sent to her by her father ; but on inquiry, it was proved that he lived in a state of extreme and pitiable poverty in the city of Dublin, where she was born. — Gent. Mag. vol. iii p. 154* SARAH MALCOLM. 89 affectation, and was said to be painted. She was attended by Dr. Middleton of St. Bride’s, her friend Mr. Peddington, and Guthrie, the ordinary of New- gate. She appeared devout and penitent, and ear- nestly requested Peddington would print a paper she had given him* the night before, which contained, — not a confession of the murder, but protestations of her innocence ; and a recapitulation of what she had before said relative to the Alexanders, &c. This wretched woman, though only twenty-five years of age, was so lost to all sense of her situation, as to rush into eternity with a lie upon her lips. She much wished to see Mr. Kerrel, and acquitted him of every imputation thrown out at her trial. After she had conversed some time with the minis- ters, and the executioner began to do his duty, she fainted away ; but recovering, was in a short space afterwards executed. Her corpse was carried to an undertaker’s on Snow Hill, where multitudes of people resorted, and gave money to see it: among the rest, a gentleman in deep mourning kissed her, and gave the attendants half a crown. Professor Martin dissected this notorious mur- deress, and afterwards presented her skeleton, in a glass case, to the Botanic Gardens at Cambridge, where it still remains.*}* * This paper he sold for twenty pounds ! and the substance of it was printed in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1733, p. L37. f In the Gentleman’s Magazine, (for 1733, p. 154,) however, it is erroneously said that she was buried in St. Sepulchre’s church-yard. p 3 90 SARAH MALCOLM. Besides the present portrait. Hogarth executed a full length of this atrocious offender ; from which it should seem probable that the artist painted her twice. There is also a figure of her cut on wood in the Gen- tleman’s Magazine for March, 1733, slightly differing from our engraving. SIMON LORD LOYAL This nobleman (who was executed for aiding the Pretender in the rebellion of 1745) sat for the pre- sent picture to Hogarth at St. Albans; who having formerly been acquainted with him, went thither for that purpose. He is painted in the act of counting the rebel forces with his fingers ; and those who knew the Scottish peer have pronounced the portrait to be a most faithful likeness. “ Lord Lovat was one of the last chieftains that preserved the rude manners, and barbarous authority, of the early feudal ages. He resided in a house, which would be esteemed but an indifferent one for a very private plain country gentleman m England; as it had properly only four rooms on a floor, and those not large. Here, however, he kept a sort of court, and several public tables ; and a numerous body of retainers always attending. His own constant residence, and the place where he always received company, even at dinner, was the very same room where he lodged ; and his lady’s sole apartment was her bed-room ; and the only provision for the lodging of the servants and retainers was a quantity of straw, which they spread every night on the floors of the lower rooms, where the whole inferior part of 92 LORD LOVAT. the family, consisting of a very great number of per- sons, took up their abode.”* From his own account, (as published in his me- moirs!) Lord Lovat seems to have been a man de- void of any fixed principle, except that of self interest : and on his conduct during the rebellion of 1745, Sir William Young (one of the managers appointed by the house of commons for conducting the prosecution) has the following observations; which are not calculated to place his character in a very amiable point of view. “ Your lordships have already done national jus- tice on some of the principal traitors who appeared in open arms against his majesty, by the ordinary course of law ; but this noble lord, who in the whole course of his life has boasted of his superior cunning in wickedness, and his ability to commit frequent treasons with impunity, vainly imagined that he might possibly be a traitor in private, and rebel only in his heart, by sending his son and his followers to join the Pretender, and remaining at home himself, to endea- vour to deceive his majesty’s faithful subjects; hoping he might be rewarded for his son’s services, if success- ful : or his son alone be the sufferer for his offences, if the undertaking failed. Diabolical cunning ! Atro- cious impiety.”| * King's Observations on ancient castles, inserted in vol. iv. of “ Jrchccologia, or Miscellaneous Tracts relating to Antiquity,” &c. •j- He wrote them originally in French, from which language they were translated into' English and published in octavo, 1797, though they had been printed for several years before, but with- held till that time for some private reasons. J State Trials, vol. iv. p. 627. LORD LOVAT. 93 Lord Lovat suffered the execution of his sentence with fortitude. He was beheaded by the maiden (an implement of death appropriated to state criminals in North Britain), of which the guillotine (which was so destructively employed during the French revolution) is an improvement. This plate had a very extensive circulation ; it was reduced into a small size, and engraved for a watch paper. TIME SMOKING A PICTURE. This plate, Mr. Nichols informs us, was a subscrip- tion ticket for Hogarth’s Sigismunda ; the history of which having already been given,* it only remains briefly to describe the object of the artist’s animated satire. Father Time is here sitting on a mutilated statue, and smoking a landscape which he has pierced with his scythe , in order to evince its antiquity ; — a damaged canvas, as well as sombre tints, being (in the estima- tion of some cognoscenti) infallible marks of the true verd antique. Beneath the easel on which it is fixed stands an ample jar of varnish. This is strikingly characteristic. By part of this print being executed in mezzotinto and the remainder etched, it has a spirited appearance, and the burlesque is increased by introducing the fragments with the following in- scription beneath (which is found in the larger plate.) “ As statues moulder into worth.” P. W. * See vol. i. p. 14. et seq. je%. I TIME SMOKIIG- A HCWttE. •2ios-mqof[jom jif pi s-mAuoj uiy pF 's&og pjoy tl jbsrz /Gjwjz \yoqt .»///y ,jw»y ^7 ■ foo jrir •Jt9U0pj*>rap WMVZ >/■ »?K/rb' ■ fon’.'TVJ-iOff.tiy g • [,.,o /.»>„>/ rj uo/l n -/ • uaf/of / . to ;>.> , ]]a-s«i; r | iiL’pinro’c>prdiii^mf.8TnT0 ry •in: ,z ai / ■ yaiMOD s;wva>M;.gr THE BEGGARS’ OPERA. The scene of this plate is laid in the third act of Gay’s very popular opera; and as the names of the principal performers of the piece here burlesqued, together with those of the audience whose portraits are introduced, are given in our engraving, little further explanation seems necessary. The Beggars’ Opera, it may he observed, was written by Gay to ridicule the absurd Italian Operas, and was originally performed at the Theatre in Lin- coln’s-Inn Fields, in the year 1727 : so great was the applause with which it was received, that sixty-three successive performances were requisite to gratify the public curiosity ; this success can only be paralleled by the astonishing run of Mr. Sheridan’s Pizarro a few years since, The Beggars’ Opera continues to be occasionally performed, notwithstanding its im- moral tendency; and we understand that a burletta founded upon it is in a course of performance at one of the minor theatres of the metropolis for the edifica- tion of the London youth. Our great moralist Johnson, however, was of 96 THE BEGGARS’ OPERA. opinion, that although more influence has been ascribed to the Beggars’ Opera than in reality it ever had, yet that it might have some influence by making the character of a rogue familiar, and in some degree pleasing. “ There is” (says he) “ such a labefac- tion of all principles as may he injurious to morality.” The truth of the doctor’s remark is most amply con- firmed by the two following anecdotes, for which we are indebted to Mr. Ireland, under whose observance the facts took place. We think they must carry con- viction to every unprejudiced mind, and too much publicity cannot be given to whatever is calculated to promote the moral benefit of society. “Two boys, under nineteen years of age, chil- dren of worthy and respectable parents, fled from their friends, and pursued courses that threatened an ignominious termination to their lives. After much search , they mere found engaged in midnight depre- dations, and in each of their pockets mas the Beggars’ Opera.” “ A boy of seventeen, some years since tried at the Old Bailey for what there was every reason to think his first offence, acknowledged himself so' delighted with the spirited and heroic character of Macheath , that on quitting the theatre , he laid out his last gui- nea in the purchase of a pair of pistols, and stopped a gentleman on the highway ”* * Ireland’s Hogarth Illustrated, vol. ii. p. 346. as rortinanrcLat 5Er«iutuifs Mafte ofiic Shnlwftfp thrDnlw «£ Cumbwland 8(*c., /\ _ X ' IJJ) TIKi Oi V IE . >. Duke of limibei'iand . 6. Prowess A/ dry. y Prowess Loiuso . ft. Loffy Drtpranu’ . P S' l/> /ter Daiufftters JLDSS. of’IhchnKpid . J2fP oj ... — .... />■ / — j /v j/id . 4i>-UtMf.uuuUim r. 17 Hu.U o< ' JUdoac^'CHlvu • < THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO ; AS PERFORMED AT MR. CONDUIT’S, MASTER OF THE MINT, BEFORE THE DUKE OF CUBIBERLAND, ETC. The scene of the last plate was laid in Newgate; that of the present is a prison in Mexico ; a number of children are enacting their respective parts in Dry- den's tragedy of the Indian Emperor ; or , the Con- quest of Mexico. The names of the various performers 'and of the audience being engraved at the foot of the print, we proceed to give an extract from Dryden’s play, illustrative of the subject. The Indian Emperor is a continuation or sequel to the Indian Queen , which last was jointly written by Dryden, and Sir Robert Havard. The Indian Emperor is the production of Dryden’s muse, and in rhyme : but, quantum mutatus ab ilia, it is every way unworthy of that great man's pen ; and it has excited some astonishment that the ribaldry 98 THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO. which Dryden wrote to gratify the vicious taste of the abandoned Charles II. and his debauched court, should have been perpetuated in a recent edition of the poet’s collective works. The following are the extracts above referred to ; they are taken from the fourth scene (a prison) of act iv. The dramatis per- sonae are Cortez, Cydaria, Almeria, Alibech. Cydaria. “ More cruel than the tiger o’er his spoil, And falser than the weeping crocodile ; — Can you add vanity to guilt, and take A pride to hear the conquests which you make ? Go — publish your renown ; let it be said, You have a woman, and that love betrayed.” Cortez. “ With what injustice is my faith accus’d ? Life ! Freedom ! Empire ! I at once refused ; And would again ten thousand times for you.” Almeria. “ She’ll have too great content to find him true ; And therefore, since his love is not for me, I’ll help to make my rival’s misery. Spaniards ! I never thought you false before ; Can you at once two mistresses adore ? Keep the poor soul no longer in suspense, Your change is such, it does not need defence.” Mr. Ireland says, a Mr. T. Hill was the promp- ter ; but the figure numbered (15) and referred to him, is stationed among the auditors, and Dr. Desaguliers, (No. 16) is on the stage rehearsing aloud, in order to assist the memories of these pigmy pro- fessors of the buskin. The figures should perhaps be transposed, in order to make the print correspond with the explanation engraved beneath. TTMjK JBJKW in comparison with them, as men are only capable of making; by means of which distinction, I am in hopes of shewing what particularly constitutes the utmost beauty of proportion in the human figure. A clock, by the government’s order, has been made, and another now making, by Mr. Harrison, for the keeping of true time at sea ; which perhaps is one of the most exquisite movements ever made. Happy the ingenious contriver! although the form of the whole, or of every part of this curious machine, should be ever so confused, or displeasingly shaped to the eye; and although even its movements should be disagreeable to look at, provided it answers the end proposed : an ornamental composition was no part of his scheme, otherwise than as a polish might be necessary ; if ornaments are required to be added to mend its shape, care must be taken that they are no obstruction to the movement itself, and the more as they would be superfluous, as to the main design. — But in nature’s machines, how wonderfully do we see beauty and use go hand in hand ! Had a machine for this purpose been nature’s work, the whole and every individual part might have ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 89 had exquisite beauty of form without danger of destroying the exquisiteness of its motion, even as if ornament had been the sole aim ; its movements too might have been graceful, without one superfluous tittle added for either of these lovely purposes. — Now this is that curious difference between the fitness of nature’s machines (one of which is man) and those made by mortal hands ; which distinction is to lead us to our ma in point proposed ; I mean to the shew- ing what constitutes the utmost beauty of proportion. There was brought from France some years ago, a little clock-work machine, with a duck’s head and legs fixed to it, which was so contrived as to have some resemblance to that animal standing upon one foot, and stretching back its leg, turning its head, opening and shutting its bill, moving its wings, and shaking its tail ; all of them the plainest and easiest directions in living movements ; yet for the poorly performing of these few motions, this silly, but much extolled machine, being uncovered, appeared a most compli- cated, confused, and disagreeable object : nor would its being covered with a skin closely adhering to its parts, as that of a real duck’s doth, have much mended its figure ; at best a bag of hob-nails, broken hinges, and patten-rings, would have looked as well, unless by other means it had been stuffed out to bring it into form. Thus again you see, the more variety we pretend to give to our trifling movements, the more confused and unornamental the forms become ; nay, chance but seldom helps them. — How much the reverse are nature’s ! the greater the variety her movements have, the more beautiful are the parts that cause them. 90 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. The finny race of animals, as they have fewer motions, than other creatures, so are their forms less remarkable for beauty. It is also to be noted ol every species, that the handsomest of each move best : birds of a clumsy make seldom fiy well, nor do lumpy fish glide so well through the water as those of a neater make ; and beasts of the most elegant form always excel in speed ; of this, the horse and greyhound are beautiful examples: and even among themselves, are most elegantly made seldom fail of being the swiftest. The war-horse is more equally made for strength than the race-horse, which surplus of power in the former, if supposed added to the latter, as it would throw more weight into improper parts for the busi- ness of mere speed, so of course it would lessen, in some degree, that admirable quality, and partly destroy that delicate fitness of his make; but then a quality in movement, superior to that of speed, would be given to him by the addition, as he would be ren- dered thereby more fit to move with ease in such varied, or graceful directions, as are so delighttul to the eye in the carriage of the fine managed war-horse ; and as at the same time, something stately and grace- ful would be added to his figure, which before could only be said to have an elegant neatness. This noble creature stands foremost amongst brutes ; and it is but consistent with nature’s propriety, that the most useful animal in the brute-creation, should be thus signalized also for the most beauty. Yet, properly speaking, no living creatures are capable of moving in such truly varied and graceful directions, as the human species ; and it would be needless to say how much superior in beauty their ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 91 forms and textures likewise are. And surely also, after what has been said relating to figure and motion, it is plain and evident that nature has thought fit to make beauty of proportion and beauty of movement necessary to each other: so that the observation before made on animals, will hold equally good with regard to man : i. e. that he who is most exquisitely well- proportioned is most capable of exquisite movement, such as ease and grace in deportment , or in dancing. It may be a sort of collateral confirmation of what has been said of this method of nature’s working, as well as otherwise worth our notice, that when any parts belonging to the human body are concealed, and not immedately concerned in movement, all such ornamental shapes, as evidently appear in the muscles and bones,* are totally neglected as unneces- sary, for nature doth nothing in vain ! this is plainly the case of the intestines, none of them having the least beauty, as to form, except the heart ; which noble part, and indeed kind of first mover, is a simple and well varied figure ; conformable to which, some of the most elegant Roman urns and vases have been fashioned. Now, thus much being kept in remembrance, our next step will be to speak of, first, general measure- ments ; such as the whole height of the body to its breadth, or the length of a limb to its thickness ; and, secondly, of such appearances of dimensions as are too intricately varied to admit of a description by lines. The former will be confined to a very few straight * See Chap. ix. on Compositions with the Serpentine Line. 92 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY*. lines, crossing each other, which will easily be under- stood by every one ; hut the latter will require some- what more attention, because it will extend to the precision of every modification, hound, or limit, of the human figure. To be somewhat more explicit. As to the first part, I shall begin with shewing what practicable sort of measuring may be used in order to produce the most proper variety in the proportions of the parts of any body. I say, practicable, because the vast variety of intricately situated parts, belonging to the human form, will not admit of measuring the distances of one part by another, by lines or points, beyond a certain degree or number, without great perplexity in the operation itself, or confusion to the imagination. For instance, say, a line representing one breadth and an half of the wrist, would be equal to the true breadth of the thickest part of the arm above the elbow ; may it not then be asked, what part of the wrist is meant? for if you place a pair of calipers a little nearer or further from the hand, the distance of the points will differ, and so they will if they are moved close to the wrist all round, because it is flatter one way than the other ; but suppose, for argu- ment sake, one certain diameter should be fixed upon ; may it not again be asked, how is it to be applied, if to the flattest side of the arm or the roundest, and how far from the elbow, and must it be when the arm is extended or when it is bent ? for this also will make a sensible difference, because in the latter position, the muscle, called the biceps, in the front of that part of the arm, swells up like a ball one way, and narrows it- self another; nay, all the muscles shift their appearances ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 93 in different movements, so that whatever may have been pretended by some authors, no exact mathema- tical measurements by lines can be given for the true proportion of a human body. It comes then to this, that no longer than whilst we suppose all the lengths and breadths of the body, or limbs, to be as regular figures as cylinders, or as the leg, figure 68 in plate 1, w'hich is as round as a rolling stone, are the measures of lengths to breadths practicable, or of any use to the knowledge of propor- tion : so that as all mathematical schemes are foreign to this purpose, we will endeavour to root them quite out of our way: therefore I must not omit taking notice, that Albert Durer, Lamozzo, (see two tasteless figures taken from their books of proportion*) and some others, have not only puzzled mankind with a heap of minute unnecessary divisions, but also with a strange notion that those divisions are governed by the laws of music ; which mistake they seem to have been led into, by having seen certain uniform and con- sonant divisions upon one string produce harmonv to the ear, and by persuading themselves, that similar distances in lines belonging to form, would, in like manner, delight the eye. The very reverse of which has been shewn to be true, in chap. 3, on Uniformity. “ The length of the foot,” say they, “in respect to the breadth, makes a double suprabipartient , a diapason , and a diatesseron f which, in my opinion, would have * Fig. 55, p. 1. f Note, these authors assure you, that this curious method of measuring will produce beauty far beyond any nature doth afford. Lamozzo recommends also another scheme, with a triangle, to 94 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. been full as applicable to the ear, or to a plant, or to a tree, or any other form whatsoever; yet these sort of notions have so far prevailed by time, that the words, harmony of parts , seem as applicable to form, as to music. Notwithstanding the absurdity of the above schemes, such measures as are to be taken from antique statues may be of some service to painters and sculp- tors, especially to young beginners, but nothing nigh of such use to them, as the measures, taken the same way, from ancient buildings, have been, and are, to architects and builders; because the latter have to do with little else but plain geometrical figures : which measures, however, serve only in copying what has been done before. The few measures I shall speak of, for the setting out the general dimensions of a figure, shall be taken by straight lines only, for the more easy conception of what may indeed be properly called, gaging the con- tents of the body, supposing it solid like a marble sta- tue, as the wires were described to do* in the intro- duction : by which plain method, clear ideas may be acquired of what alone seem to me to require measur- ing, of what certain lengths to what breadths make the most eligible proportions in general. The most general dimensions of a body, or limbs, are lengths, breadths, or thicknesses : now the whole correct the poverty of nature, as they express themselves. These nature-menders put one in mind of Gulliver’s tailor at Laputa, who, having taken measure of him for a suit of clothes, with a rule, quadrant, and compasses, after a considerable time spent, brought them home ill made. * Fig. 2. p. 1. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 95 gentility of a figure, according to its character, de- pends upon the first proportioning these lines or wires (which are its measures) properly one to another; and the more varied these lines are, with respect to each other, the more may the future divisions be varied likewise, that are to be made on them ; and of course the less varied these lines are, the parts influenced by them, as they must conform themselves to them, must have less variety too. For example, the exact cross* of two equal lines, cutting each other in the middle, would confine the figure of a man, drawn conformable to them, to the disagreeable character of his being as broad as he is long. And the two lines crossing each other, to make height and breadth of a figure, will want variety a contrary way, by one line being very short in proportion to the other, and, therefore, also incapable of producing a figure of tolerable variety. To prove this, it will be very easy for the reader to make the experiment, by draw- mg a figure or two (though ever so imperfectly) con- fined within such limits. There is a medium between these, proper for every character, which the eye will easily and accurately determine. fhus, if the lines, fig. f, were to be the measure of the extreme length and breadth, set out either for the figure of a man 01 a vase, the eye soon sees the longest of these is not quite sufficiently so, in proportion to the other, for a genteel man; and yet it would make a vase too taper to be elegant: no rule or compasses w ould decide this matter eitner so quickly or so pre- 96 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. cisely as a good eye. It may be observed, that minute differences in great lengths are of little or no conse- quence as to proportion, because they are not to be discerned ; for a man is half an inch shorter when he goes to bed at night, than when he rises in the morn- ing, without the possibility of its being perceived. In case of a wager, the application of a rule or compasses may be necessary, but seldom on any other occasion. Thus much, I apprehend, is sufficient for the consi- deration of general lengths to breadths. Where, by the way, I apprehend I have plainly shewn, that there is no practicable rule, by lines, for minutely setting out proportions for the human body ; and if there were, the eye alone must determine us in our choice of what is most pleasing to itself. Thus having dispatched general dimension, which we may say is almost as much of proportion, as is to be seen when we have our clothes on : I shall in the second, and more extensive method proposed for con- sidering it, set out in the familiar path of common observation, and appeal as I go on to our usual feeling, or joint sensation, of figure and motion. Perhaps by mentioning two or three known instances it will be found that almost every one is farther advanced in the knowledge of this speculative part of proportion than he imagines ; especially he who hath been used to observe naked figures doing bodily exercise, and more especially if he be any way in- terested in the success of them ; and the better he is acquainted with the nature of the exercise itself, still the better judge he becomes of the figure that is to perfoim it. For this reason, no sooner are two boxers stripped to fight, but even a butcher, thus skilled, shews ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 97 himself a considerable critic in proportion; and on this sort of judgment, often gives, or takes the odds, at bare sight only of the combatants. I have heard a blacksmith harangue like an anatomist, or sculptor’ on the beauty of a boxer’s figure, though not perhaps in the same terms ; and I firmly believe, that one of our common proficients in the athletic art would be able to instruct and direct the best sculptor living, (who hath not seen, or is wholly ignorant of this exercise) in what would give the statue of an English boxer, a much better proportion, as to character, than is to be seen, even in the famous group of antique boxers, (or as some call them, Roman wrestlers) so much admired to this day. Indeed, as many parts of the body are so constantly kept covered, the proportion of the whole cannot be equally known ; but as stockings are so close and thin a covering, every one judges of the different shapes and proportions of legs with great accuracy. The ladies always speak skilfully of necks, hands, and arms ; and often will point out such particular beauties or deiects in their make, as might easily escape the observation of a man of science. Surely, such determinations could not be made and pronounced with such critical truth, if the eye were not capable of measuring or judging of thick- nesses by lengths, with great preciseness. Nay more, in order to determine so nicely as they often do, it must also at the same time trace with some skill those delicate windings upon the surface which have been described in pages 82 and 83, which altogether may be observed to include the two general ideas mentioned at the beginning of this chapter. 98 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. If so, certainly it is in the power of a man of science, with as observing an eye, to go still further, and conceive, with a very little turn of thought, many other necessary circumstances concerning proportion, as of what size and in what manner the hones help to make up the bulk, and support the other parts ; as well as what certain weights or dimensions of muscles are proper (according to the principle of the steel-yard) to move such or such a length of arm with this or that degree of swiftness or force. But though much of this matter may be easily understood by common observation, assisted by science, still I fear it will be difficult to raise a very clear idea of what constitutes, or composes the utmost beauty of 'proportion ,* such as is seen in the Antinous ; which is allowed to be most perfect in this respect, of any of the antique statues ; and though the lovely likewise seems to have been as much the sculptor’s aim, as in the Venus ; yet a manly strength in its proportion is equally expressed from head to foot in it. Let us try, however, and as this master-piece of ait is so well known, we will set it up before us as a pattern, and endeavour to fabricate, or put together in the mind, such kind of parts as shall seem to build another figure like it. In doing which, we shall soon find that it is chiefly to be effected by means of the nice sensation we naturally have of what certain quan- tities or dimensions of parts, are fittest to produce the utmost strength for moving or supporting great weights ; and of what are most fit for the utmost light agility, as also for every degree, between these two extremes. He who hath best perfected his ideas of tnese matters ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 99 by common observations, and by the assistance of arts relative thereto, will probably be most precisely just and clear, in conceiving the application of the various parts and dimensions, that will occur to him, in the following descriptive manner of disposing of them, in order to form the idea of a fine proportioned figure. Having set up the Antinous as our pattern, we will suppose there were placed on one side of it, the unwieldy elephant-like figure of an Atlas, made up of such thick bones and muscles, as would best fit him for supporting a vast weight, according to his character of extreme heavy strength : and, on the other side, imagine the slim figure of a Mercury, every where neatly formed for the utmost light agility, with slender bones and taper muscles fit for his nimble bounding from the ground.— Both these figures must be supposed of equal height, and not exceeding six foot.* Our extremes thus placed, now imagine the Atlas throwing off by degrees certain portions of bone and muscle, proper for the attainment of light agility, as if aiming at the Mercury’s airy form and quality, whilst on the other hand, see the Mercury augmenting his taper figure by equal degrees, and growing towards an Atlas in equal time, by receiving to the like places from whence they came, the very quantities that the other had been casting off, when, as they approach each other in weight, their forms of course may be imagined to grow more and more alike, till at a certain * If the scale of either of these proportions were to exceed six foot in the life, the quality of strength in one, and agility in the other, would gradually decrease, the larger the person grew There are sufficientproofs of this, both from mechanical reasonings and common observation. 100 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. point of time, they meet in just similitude; which being an exact medium between the two extremes, we may thence conclude it to be the precise form of exact proportion fittest for per feet, active strength or graceful movement ; such as the Antinous we proposed to imitate and figure in the mind.* I am apprehensive that this part of my scheme, foi explaining exact proportion, may not be thought so sufficiently determinate as could be wished : be this as it will, I must submit it to the reader as my best resource in so difficult a case : and shall theiefore beg leave to try to illustrate it a little more, by observing that, in like manner, any two opposite colours in the rainbow , form a third between them, by thus impart- ing to each other their peculiar qualities : as for ex- ample, the brightest yellow, and the lively blue that is placed at some distance from it, visibly approach, and blend by interchangeable degrees, and, as above, temper rather than destroy each other’s vigour, till they meet in one firm compound ; whence, at a certain point, the sight of what they were originally, is quite lost; but in their stead, a most pleasing green is found, which colour nature hath chose for the vest- ment of the earth, and with the beauty of which the eye is never tired. From the order of the ideas which the description of the above three figures may have raised in the mind, * The jockey who knows to an ounce what flesh or bone in a horse is fittest for speed or strength, will as easily conceive the like process between the strongest dray-horse and the fleetest racer, and soon conclude, that the fine war-horse must be the medium between the two extremes. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 101 we may easily compose between them, various other proportions. And as the painter, by means of a cer- tain order in the arrangement of the colours upon his pallet, readily mixes up what kind of tint he pleases, so may we mix up and compound in the imagination such fit parts as will be consistent with this or that particular character, or at least be able thereby to dis- cover how such characters are composed when we see them either in art or nature. But perhaps even the word character , as it relates to form , may not be quite understood by every one, though it is so frequently used; nor do I remember to have seen it explained any where. Therefore on this account — and also as it will further shew the use of thinking of form and motion together, it will not be improper to observe, — that notwithstanding a character, in this sense, chiefly depends on a figure being remark- able as to its form, either in some particular part, or altogether; yet surely no figure, be it ever so singular, can be perfectly conceived as a character, till we find it connected with some remarkable circumstance or cause, for such particularity of appearance ; for instance, a fat bloated person doth not call to mind the character of Silenus, till we have joined the idea of voluptuous- ness with it ; so likewise strength to support, and clumsiness of figure, are united, as well in the character of an Atlas as in a porter. When we consider the great weight chairmen often have to carry, do we not readily consent that there is a propriety and fitness in the Tuscan order of their legs, by which they properly become characters as to figure ? Watermen too are of a distinct cast, or character, 102 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. whose legs are no less remarkable for their smallness : for as there is naturally the greatest call for nutriment to the parts that are most exercised, so of course these that lie so much stretched out, are apt to dwindle, or not grow to their full size. There is scarcely a water- man that rows upon the Thames, whose figure doth not confirm this observation. Therefore were I to paint the character of a Charon, I would thus dis- tinguish his make from that of a common man’s; and, in spite of the word low, venture to give him a broad pair of shoulders, and spindle shanks, whether I had the authority of an antique statue, or basso-relievo, for it or not. May be, I cannot throw a stronger light on what has been hitherto said of proportion, than by animadvert- ing on a remarkable beauty in the Apollo Belvedere ; which hath given it the preference even to the Antin- ous : I mean a super-addition of greatness, to at least as much beauty and grace, as is found in the latter. These two master-pieces of art, are seen together in the same palace at Rome, where the Antinous fills the spectator with admiration only, whilst the Apollo strikes him with surprise, and, as travellers express them- selves, with an appearance of something more than human ; which they of course are always at a loss to describe: and, this effect (they say) is the more astonishing, as upon examination its disproportion is evident even to a common eye. One of the best sculptors we have in England, who lately went to see them, confirmed to me what has been now said, par- ticularly as to the legs and thighs being too long, and too large for the upper parts. And Andrea Sacchi, one of the great Italian painters, seems to have been of ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 103 the same opinion, or he would hardly have given his Apollo, crowning Pasquilini, the musician, the exact proportion of the Antinous, (in a famous picture of his now in England,) as otherwise it seems to be a direct copy from the Apollo. Although in very great works we often see an in- ferior part neglected, yet here it cannot be the case, because in a fine statue, just proportion is one of its essential beauties; therefore it stands to reason that these limbs must have been lengthened on purpose, otherwise it might easily have been avoided. So that if we examine the beauties of this figure thoroughly, we may reasonably conclude, that what has been hitherto thought so unaccountably excellent in its general appearance, hath been owing to what hath seemed a blemish in a part of it : but let us endeavour to make this matter as clear as possible, as it may add more force to what has been said. Statues by being bigger than life (as this is one, and larger than the Antinous) always gain some nobleness in effect, according to the principle of quantity,* but this alone is not sufficient to give what is properly to be called, greatness in proportion; for were figures 17 and 18, in plate 1, to be drawn or carved by a scale of ten feet high, they would still be but pigmy propor- tions, as, on the other hand, a figure of but two inches, may represent a gigantic height. Therefore greatness of proportion must be con- sidered, as depending on the application of quantity to those parts of the body where it can give more scope to its grace in movement, as to the neck for the 104 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. larger and swan-like turns of the head, and to the legs and thighs, for the more ample sway of all the upper parts together. By which we find that the Antinous’s being equally magnified to the Apollo’s height, would not sufficiently px-oduce that superiority of effect, as to great- ness, so evidently seen in the latter. The additions necessary to the production of this greatness in pro- portion, as it there appears added to grace, must then be, by the proper application of them, to the parts mentioned only. I know not how further to prove this matter than by appealing to the reader’s eye, and common obser- vation, as before. The Antinous being allowed to have the justest proportion possible, let us see what addition, upon the principle of quantity, can be made to it, without taking away any of its beauty. If we imagine an addition of dimensions to the head, we shall immediately conceive it would only deform — if to the hands or feet, we are sensible of something gross and ungenteel — if to the whole lengths of the arms, we feel they would be dangling and awkward — if by an addition of length or breadth to body, we know it would appear heavy and clumsy — there remains then only the neck, with the legs and thighs to speak of ; but to these we find, that not only certain additions may be admitted without causing any disagreeable effect, but that thereby greatness , the last perfection as to proportion, is given to the human form : as is evidently expressed in the Apollo : and may still be further confirmed by examining the drawings of Parmigiano, where these particulars are ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 105 seen in excess ; yet on this account his works are said, by all true connoisseurs, to have an inexpressible greatness of taste in them, though otherwise very incorrect. Let us now return to the two general ideas we set out with at the beginning of this chapter, and recol- lect that under the first, On Surface, I have shown in what manner, and how far human proportion is mea- surable, by varying the contents of the body, conform- able to the given proportion of two lines. And that under the second and more extensive general idea of form, as arising from fitness for movement, &c. I have endeavoured to explain, by every means I could devise, that every particular and minute dimension of the body, should conform to such purposes of move- ment, &c. as have been first properly considered and determined; on which conjunctively, the true pro- portion of every character must depend ; and is found so to do, by our joint sensation of bulk and motion. Which account of the proportion of the human body, however imperfect, may possibly stand its ground, till one more plausible shall be given. As the Apollo* has been only mentioned on account of the greatness of its proportion, I think in justice to so fine a performance, and also as it is not foreign to the point we have been upon, we may subjoin an observation or two on its perfections. Besides, what is commonly allowed, if we consider it by the rules here given for constituting or compos- ing character, it will discover the author’s great saga- city in choosing a proportion for this deity, which has f 3 * Fig. 12. p. 1. 106 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. served two noble purposes at once ; in that these very dimensions which appear to have given it so much dignity, are the same that are best fitted to produce the utmost speed. And what could characterize the god of day, either so strongly or elegantly, to he ex- pressive in a statue, as superior swiftness, and beauty dignified ? and how poetically doth the action it is put into, carry on the allusion to speed,* as he is lightly stepping forward, and seeming to shoot his arrows from him ; if the arrows may be allowed to signify the sun’s rays ? This at least may as well be supposed as the common surmise that he is killing the dragon, Python ; which certainly is very inconsistent with so erect an attitude, and benign an aspect. f Nor are the inferior parts neglected : the drapery also that depends from his shoulders, and folds over his extended arm, hath its treble office. At first, it assists in keeping the general appearance within the boundary of a pyramid, which being inverted, is, for a single figure, rather more natural and genteel than one upon its basis. Secondly, it fills' up the vacant angle under the arm, and takes off the straightness of the lines the arms necessarily make with the body in such an action; and lastly, spreading as it doth, in pleasing folds, it helps to satisfy the eye with a noble quantity in the composition altogether, without depriv- ing the beholder of any part of the beauties of the ♦ the sun: which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run his course. — Psaim xix. 5. f The accounts given, in relation to this statue, make it so highly probable that it was the great Apollo of Delphos, that, for my own part, I make no manner of doubt of its being, so. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 107 naked : in short, this figure might serve, were a lecture to be read over it, to exemplify every principle that hath been hitherto advanced. We shall therefore close not only all vve have to say on proportion with it, but our whole lineal account of form, except what we have particularly to offer as to the face ; which it will be proper to defer, till we have spoken of light , and shade , and colour. As some of the ancient statues have been of such singular use to me, I shall beg leave to conclude this chapter with an observation or two on them in general. It is allowed by the most skilful in the imitative arts, that though there are many of the remains of antiquity, that have great excellencies about them ; yet there are not, moderately speaking, about twenty that may be justly called capital. There is one reason, nevertheless, besides the blind veneration that gene- rally is paid to antiquity, for holding even many very imperfect pieces in some degree of estimation : I mean that peculiar taste of elegance which so visibly runs through them all, down to the most incorrect of their basso-relievos : which taste , I am persuaded, my reader will now conceive to have been entirely owing to the perfect knowledge the ancients nrnst have had of the use of the precise serpentine line. But this cause of elegance not having been since sufficiently understood, no wonder such effects should have appeared mysterious, and have drawn mankind into a sort of religious esteem, and even bigotry, to the works of antiquity. Nor have there been wanting of artful people, who have made good profit of those whose unbounded admiration hath run them into enthusiasm. Nay, 108 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. there are, I believe, some who still carry on a comfort- able trade in such originals as have been so defaced and maimed by time, that it would be impossible without a pair of double-ground connoisseur-spectacles, to see whether they have ever been good or bad : they deal also in cooked-up copies, which they are very apt to put off for originals. And whoever dares be bold enough to detect such impositions, finds him- self immediately branded, and given out as one of low ideas, ignorant of the true sublime, self-conceited, envious, &c. But as there are a great part of mankind that delight most in what they least understand ; for aught I know, the emolument may be equal between the bubbler and the bubbled : at least this seems to have been Butler’s opinion : Doubtless the pleasure is as great In being cheated, as to cheat. CHAPTER XII. OP LIGHT AND SHADE, AND THE MANNER IN WHICH OBJECTS ARE EXPLAINED TO THE EYE BY THEM. Although both this and the next chapter may seem more particularly relative to the art of painting, than any of the foregoing; yet, as hitherto, I have endea- voured to be understood by every reader, so here also I shall avoid, as much as the subject will permit, speaking of what would only be well conceived by painters. There is such a subtile variety in the nature of appearances, that probably we shall not be able to gain much ground by this inquiry, unless we exert and apply the full use of every sense that will con- vey to us any information concerning them. So far as we have already gone, the sense of feel- ing, as well as that of seeing, hath been ajaplied to; so that perhaps a man born blind, may, by his better touch than is common to those who have their sight, together with the regular process that has been here given of lines, so feel out the nature of forms, as to make a tolerable judgment of what is beautiful to sight. Here again our other senses must assist us, not- withstanding in this chapter we shall be more con- fined to what is communicated to the eye by rays of light; and though things must now be considered as appearances only, produced and made out merely by means of Ugh ts , shades , and colours. 110 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. By the various circumstances of which, every one knows we have represented on the flat surface of the looking-glass, pictures equal to the originals reflected by it. The painter too, by proper dispositions of lights, shades, and colours on his canvass, will raise the like ideas. Even, prints, by means of lights and shades alone, will perfectly inform the eye of every shape and distance whatsoever, in which even lines must be considered as narrow parts of shade ; a number of them, drawn or engraved neatly side by side, called hatching , serve as shades in prints, and, when they are artfully managed, are a kind of pleasing succedaneum to the delicacy of nature’s. Could mezzotinto prints be wrought as accurately as those with the graver, they would come nearest to nature, because they are done without strokes or lines. I have often thought that a landscape, in the pro- cess of this way of representing it, doth a little resem- ble the first coming on of day. The copper-plate it is done upon, when the artist first takes it into hand, is wrought all over with an edged-tool, so as to make it print one even black, like night : and his whole work after this, is merely introducing the lights into it ; which he does by scraping off the rough grain according to his design, artfully smoothing it most where light is most required: but as he proceeds in burnishing the lights, and clearing up the shades, he is obliged to take off frequent impressions to prove the progress of the work, so that each proof appears like the different times of a foggy morning, till one be- comes so finished as to be distinct and clear enough to imitate a day-light piece. I have given this description, ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY, 111 because I think the whole operation, in the simplest manner, shews what lights and shades alone will do. As light must always be supposed, I need only speak of such privations of it as are called shades or shadow's ; wherein I shall endeavour to point out and regularly describe a certain order and arrangement in their appearance; in which order we may conceive different kinds of softenings and modulations of the rays of light which are said to fall upon the eye from every object it sees, and to cause those more or less pleasing vibrations of the optic nerves, which serve to inform the mind concerning every different shape or figure that presents itself. The best light for seeing the shadows of objects truly, is, that which comes in at a common sized win- dow, where the sun doth not shine ; I shall, therefore, speak of their order as seen by this kind of light : and shall take the liberty, in the present and following chapter, to consider colours but as variegated shades ; which, together with common shades, will now be divided into tw'o general parts or branches. The first we shall call prime tints, by which is meant any colour or colours on the surfaces of objects; and the use we shall make of these different hues will be to consider them as shades to one another. Thus gold is a shade to silver, &c. exclusive of those addi- tional shades which may be made in any degree by the privation of light. The second branch may be called retiring shades, which gradate or go off by degrees, as fig.* These shades, as they vary more or less, produce beauty. * Fig. 34, T. p, 2. 112 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. whether they are occasioned by the privation of light, or made by the pencillings of art or nature. When I come to treat of colouring, I shall parti- cularly shew in what manner the gradating of prime tints serve to the making a beautiful complexion ; in this place we shall only observe how nature hath by these gradating shades ornamented the surfaces of animals : fish generally have this kind of shade from their backs downward; birds have their feathers en- riched with it ; and many flowers, particularly the rose, shew it by the gradually increasing colours of their leaves. The sky always gradates one w r ay or other, and the rising or setting sun exhibits it in great perfec- tion, the imitating of which was Claud, de Lorain’s peculiar excellence, and is now Mr. Lambert’s. There is so much of what is called harmony to the eye to be produced by this shade, that I believe we may venture to say, in art it is the painter’s gamut, which nature has sweetly pointed out to us in what we call the eyes of a peacock’s tail : and the nicest needle- workers are taught to weave it into every flower and leaf, right or wrong, as if it was as constantly to be observed as it is seen in flames of fire ; because it is always found to entertain the eye. There is a sort of needle-work called Irish -stitch, done in these shades only, which pleases still, though it has long been out of fashion. There is so strict an analogy between shade and sound, that they may well serve to illustrate each other’s qualities : for as sounds gradually decreasing and increasing give the idea of progression from or to the ear, just so do retiring shades shew progression? ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 113 by figuring it to the eye. Thus, as by objects grow- ing still fainter, we judge of distances in prospects, so by the decreasing noise of thunder, we form the idea of its moving further from us. And, with regard to their similitude in beauty, like as the gradating shade pleases the eye, so the increasing, or swelling note, delights the ear. I have called it the retiring shade, because by the successive, or continual change in its appearance, it is equally instrumental with converging lines,* in shew- ing how much objects, or any parts of them, retire or recede from the eye ; without which, a floor, or hori- zontal-plane, would often seem to stand upright like a wall. And notwithstanding all the other ways by which we learn to know at what distances things are from us, frequent deceptions happen to the eye on account of deficiencies in this shade : for if the light chances to be so disposed on objects as not to give this shade its true gradating appearance, not only spaces are confounded, but round things appear flat, £nd flat ones round. But although the retiring shade hath this property, when seen with converging lines, yet if it describes nt particular form, as none of those do in fig. 94, on toj of plate 2, it can only appear as a flat pencilled shale ; but being inclosed within some known boundary or cutline, such as may signify a wall, a road, a globe, or aiy other form in perspective where the parts retire, it wil then show its retiring quality : as for example, the ^firing shade on the floor, in plate 2, which * Seep. 37. The two converging lines from the ship, to the point C, inder fig. 47, plate 1 . 114 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. gradates from the dog’s feet to those of the dancer’s, shews, that by this means a level appearance is given to the ground : so when a cube is put into true perspective on paper, with lines only, which do but barely hint the directions every face of it is meant to take, these shades made them seem to retire just as the perspective lines direct; thus mutually completing the idea of those recessions which neither of them alone could do. Moreover, the outline of a globe is but a circle on the paper : yet according to the manner of filling up the space within it, with this shade, it may be made to appear either flat, globular, or concave, in any of its positions with the eye ; and as each manner of filling up the circle for those purposes must be very different, it evidently shews the necessity of distin- guishing this shade, into as many species or kinds, as there are classes or species of lines, with which they may have a correspondence. In doing which, it will be found, that, by their correspondency with, and conformity to objects, either composed of straight, curved, waving or serpentine lines, they of course take such appearances of variety as are adequate to the variety made by those lines ; and by this conformity of shades, we have the sane idea of any of the objects composed of the above lhes in their front aspects, as we have of them by tieir profiles ; which otherwise could not be without feding them. Now instead of giving engraved examples of each species of shade, as I have done of lines, I havefound that they may be more satisfactorily pointed cat and described, by having recourse to the life. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 115 But in order to the better and more precisely fixing upon what may be there seen, as the distinct species, of which all the shades of the retiring kind in nature partake, in some degree or other, the following scheme is offered, and intended as an additional means of making such simple impressions in the mind, as may be thought adequate to the four species of lines described in chapter 27. Wherein we are to suppose imperceptible degrees of shade gradating from one figure to another. The first species to he represented by, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. the second by, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. the third by, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. gradating from the dots underneath, repeated either way. As the first species varies or gradates but one way, it is therefore least ornamental, and equal only to straight lines. The second gradating contrary ways, doubling the other’s variety, is consequently twice as pleasing, and thereby equal to curved lines. The third species gradating doubly contrary ways, is thereby still more pleasing in proportion to that quadruple variety which makes it become capable of conveying to the mind an equivalent in shade, which expresses the beauty of the waving line, when it cannot be seen as a line. The retiring shade, adequate to the serpentine line, now should follow ; but as the line itself could not be expressed on paper, without the figure of a cone,* so neither can this shade be described without the 116 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. assistance of a proper form, and therefore must be deferred a little longer. When only the ornamental quality of shades is spoken of, for the sake of distinguishing them from retiring shades, let them be considered as pencillings only; whence another advantage will arise, which is, that then all the intervening mixtures, with their degrees of beauty between each species, may be as easily conceived, as those have been between each class of lines. And now let us have recourse to the experiments in life, for such examples as may explain the retiring power of each species ; since, as has been before observed, they must be considered together with their proper forms, or else their properties cannot be well distinguished. All the degrees of obliquity that planes, or flat surfaces are capable of moving into, have their appear- ances of recession perfected by the first species of retiring shades, which may evidently be seen by sitting opposite a door, as it is opening outwards from the eye, and fronting the light. But it will be proper to premise, that when it is quite shut, and flat or parallel to the eye and window, it will only have a pencilling shade gradating upon it, and spreading all around from the middle, but which will not have the power of giving the idea of recession any way, as when it opens, and the lines run in perspective to a point ; because the square figure or parallel lines of the door, do not correspond with such shade; but let a door be circular in the same situation, and all without side, or round about it, painted of any other colour, to make its figure more distinctly seen, ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 117 and it will immediately appear concave like a bason, the shade continually retiring; because this circular species of shade would then be accompanied by its corresponding form, a circle.* But to return ; we observed that all the degrees of obliquity in the moving of planes or flat surfaces, have the appearance of their recession perfected to the eye by the first species of retiring shade. For example, then; when the door opens, and goes from its parallel situation with the eye, the shade last spoken of, may be observed to alter and change its round gradating appearance into that of gradating one way only; as when a standing water takes a current upon the least power given it to descend. Note, if the light should come in at the door-way, instead of the window, the gradation then would be reversed, but still the effect of recession would be just the same, as this shade ever complies with the per- spective lines. f In the next place, let us observe the ovolo, or quar- ter-round in a cornice, fronting the eye in like manner, by which may be seen an example of the second species : where on its most projecting part, a line of light is seen, from whence these shades retire contrary ways, by which the curvature is understood. * Note, if the light were to come in at a very little hole not far from the door, so as to make the gradation sudden and strong, like what may be made with a small candle held near a wall or a wainscot, the bason would appear the deeper for it. + Note also, that when planes are seen parallel to the eye in opeij daylight, they have scarce any round gradating or pencilling shade at all, but appear merely as uniform prime tints, because the rays of light are equally diffused upon them. Nevertheless, give them but obliquity, and they will more or less exhibit the retiring shade. 118 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. And, perhaps, in the very same cornice may be seen an example of the third species, in that orna- mental member called by the architects cyma recta , or talon, which indeed is no more than a larger sort of waving or ogee moulding; wherein, by the convex parts gently gliding into the concave, you may see four contrasted gradating shades, shewing so many varied recessions from the eye ; by which we are made as sensible of its waving form as if we saw the profile out-line of some corner of it, where it is mitred, as the joiners term it. Note, when these objects have a little gloss on them, these appearances are most dis- tinct. Lastly, the serpentine shade may be seen (light and situation as before) by the help of the following figure, as thus ; imagine the horn, figure 57, plate 2, to be of so soft a nature, that with the fingers only, it might be pressed into any shape ; then beginning gently from the middle of the dotted line, but pressing harder and harder all the way up the lesser end, by such pressure there would be as mucli concave above, as would remain convex below, which would bring it equal in variety or beauty to the ogee moulding; but after this, by giving the whole a twist, like figure 58, these shades must unavoidably change their appearances, and in some measure, twist about as the concave and convex parts are twisted, and consequently thereby add that variety, which of course will give this species of shade, as much the preference to the foregoing, as forms com- posed of serpentine lines have, to those composed only of the waving. See chap. 9 and chap. 10. I should not have given my reader the trouble of completing, by the help of his imagination, the fore- ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 119 going figure, but as it may contribute to the more ready and particular conception of that intricate variety, which twisted figures give to this species of shade, and to facilitate his understanding the cause of its beauty, wherever it may be seen on surfaces of ornament, when it will be found no where more conspicuous than in a fine face, as will be seen upon further inquiry. The dotted line *, which begins from the concave part, under the arch of the brow, near the nose, and from thence winding down by the corner of the eye, and there turning obliquely with the round of the cheek, shews the course of that twist of shades in a face, which was before described by the horn ; and which may be most perfectly seen in the life, or in a marble busto, together with the following additional circumstances still remaining to be described. As a face is for the most part round, it is therefore apt to receive reflected light on the shadowy side,f which not only adds more beauty by another pleasing- tender gradation, but also serves to distinguish the roundness of the cheeks, &c. from such parts as sink and fall in : because concavities do not admit of reflec- tions, as convex forms do4 * Fig. 97, B. p. 1. f Note, though I have advised the observing objects by a front light, for the sake of the better distinguishing our four funda- mental species of shades, yet objects in general are more advanta- geously and agreeably seen by light coming side- ways upon them, and therefore generally chose in paintings ; as it gives an additional reflected softness, not unlike the gentle tone of an echo in music. + As an instance that convex and concave would appear the same, if the former were to have no reflection thrown upon, observe 120 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY I have now only to add, that, as lefore observed, chap. 4, page 23, the oval hath a noble: implicity in it, more equal to its variety than any other object in nature ; and of which the general fo’m of a face is composed ; therefore, from what has teen now shewn, the general gradation shade belongiig to it, must consequently be adequate thereto, and which evidently gives a delicate softness to the whole tomposition of a face; insomuch that every little dent, crack, or scratch, the form receives, its shadows also sufer with it, and help to shew the blemish. Even the least roughness interrupts and damages that soft grrdating play of shades which fall upon it. Mr. Dryden, describing the light and shades of a face, in his epistb to Sir Godfrey Kneller the portrait painter, seems, by the penetration of his incomparable genius, to have understood that language in the works of nature, which the latter, by means of an exact eye and a strict obejing hand, could only faithfully transcribe ; when he sajs, Where light to shades descending, plays, not strives, Dies by degrees, and by degrees revives. the ovolo and cavetto, or channel, in a cornice, placed near together, and seen by a front light, when they will each of them, by turns appear either concave, or convex, as fancy shall direct. CHAPTER XIII. OF COMPOSITION, WITH REGARD TO LIGHT, SHADE, AND COLOURS. Under this head I shall attempt shewing what it is that gives the appearance of that hollow or vacant space in which all things move so freely; and in what manner light, shade, and colours, mark or point out the distances of one object from another, and occa- sion an agreeable play upon the eye, called by the painters a fine keeping, and pleasing composition of light and shade. Herein my design is to consider this matter as a performance of nature without , or before the eye: I mean, as if the objects with their shades, kc. were, in fact, circumstanced as they ap- pear, and as the unskilled in optics take them to be. And let it be remarked throughout this chapter, that the pleasure arising from composition, as in a fine landscape, kc. is chiefly owing to the dispositions and assemblages of light and shades, which are so ordered by the principles called opposition, breadth, and simplicity, as to produce a just and distinct percep- tion of the objects before us. Experience teaches us that the eye may be sub- dued and forced into forming and disposing of objects, even quite contrary to what it would naturally see them, by the prejudgment of the mind from the better authority of feeling, or some other persuasive motive. But surely this extraordinary perversion of the sight would not have been suffered, did it not o. 122 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. tend to great and necessary purposes, in rectifying some deficiencies which it would otherwise be subject to (though we must own, at the same time, that the mind itself may be so imposed upon as to make the eye see falsely as well as truly) : for example, were it not for this control over the sight, it is well known, that we should not only see things double, but upside down, as they are painted upon the retina, and as each eye has a distinct sight. And then as to dis- tances ; a fly upon a pane of glass is sometimes imagined a crow, or larger bird afar oft’, till some circumstance hath rectified the mistake, and con- vinced us of its real size and place. Hence I would infer, that the eye generally gives its assent to such space and distances as have been first measured by the feeling, or otherwise calculated in the mind : which measurements and calculations are equally, if not more, in the power of a blind man, as was fully experienced by that incomparable ma- thematician and wonder of his age, the late professor Sanderson. By pursuing this observation on the faculties of the mind, an idea may be formed of the means by which we attain to the perception or appearance of an im- mense space surrounding us ; which cavity, being subject to divisions and subdivisions in the mind, is afterwards fashioned by the limited power of the eye, first into a hemisphere, and then into the appeal ance of different distances, which are pictured to it by means of such dispositions of light and shade as shall next be described. And these I now desire may be looked upon, but as so many marks or types set upon these distances, and which are remembered and lerrnt ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 123 b y degrees, and when learnt, are recurred to upon all occasions. If permitted, then, to consider light and shades as types of distinction , they become, as it were, our materials, of which prime tints are the principal ; by these, I mean the fixed and permanent colours of each object, as the green of trees, &c. which serve the purposes of separating and relieving the several objects by the different strengths or shades of them being opposed to each other.* The other shades that have been before spoken of, serve and help to the like purposes when properly op- posed ; but as in nature they are continually fleeting and changing their appearances, either by our or their situations, they sometimes oppose and relieve, and sometimes not ; as for instance, I once observed the tower part of a steeple so exactly the colour of a lighj cloud behind it, that, at the distance I stood, there was not the least distinction to be made, so that the spire (of a lead colour) seemed suspended in the air ; but had a cloud of the like tint with the steeple, supplied the place of the white one, the tower would then have been relieved and distinct, when the spire would have been lost to the view. Nor is it sufficient that objects are of different colours or shades, to shew their distances from the eye, if one does not in part hide or lay over the other, as in fig. 86. For, as fig'.f, the two equal balls, though one were black and the other white, placed on the separate walls, supposed distant from each other twenty or thirty feet, * Fig. 86. T. p. 2. f Fig. 90. T. p. 2 o 2 124 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. nevertheless, may seem both to rest upon one, if the tops of the walls are level with the eye ; hut when one hall hides part of the other, as in the same figure, we begin to apprehend they are upon different walls, which is determined by the perspective;* hence you will see the reason why the steeple of Bloombsbury Church, in coming from Hampstead, seems to stand upon Montague House, though it is several hundred yards distant from it. Since then the opposition of one prime tint or shade to another, hath so great a share in marking out the recessions, or distances, in a prospect, by which the eye is led onward, step by step, it becomes a princi- ple of consequence enough to be further discussed, with regard to the management of it in compositions of nature, as well as art. As to the management of it, when seen only from one point, the artist hath the advantage over nature, because, such fixed dispositions of shades as he hath artfully put together, cannot be displaced by the alteration of light, for which reason designs done in two prime tints only, will sufficiently represent all those recessions, and give a just keeping to the representation of a prospect, in a print ; where- as, the oppositions in nature, depending, as has been before hinted, on accidental situations und uncertain incidents, do not always make such pleasing compo- sition, and would therefore have been very often deficient, had nature worked in two colours only ; for which reason she hath provided an infinite number of * The knowledge ox perspective is no small help to the seeing objects truly, for which purpose Dr. Brook laylors “Linear Perspective Made Easy to those who are Unacquainted with Geometry,” may be of most service. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 125 materials, not only by way of prevention, but to add lustre and beauty to her works. By an infinite number of materials, I mean colours and shades of all kinds and degrees ; some notion of which variety may be formed by supposing a piece of white silk by several dippings gradually dyed to a black ; and carrying it in like manner through the prime tints of yellow, red, and blue ; and then again, by making the like progress, through all the mixtures that are to be made of these three original colours. So that when we survey this infinite and immense variety, it is no wonder, that, let the light or objects be situated or changed how they will, oppositions seldom miss: nor that, even every incident of shade should sometimes be so completely disposed as to admit of no further beauty, as to composition; and from whence the artist hath by observation taken his principles of imitation, as in the following respect. Those objects which are intended most to affect the eye, and come forwardest to the view, must have large, strong, and smart oppositions, like the fore-ground in fig.*, and what are designed to be thrown further off, must be made still weaker and weaker, as expressed in figures 86, 92, and 93, which receding in order, make a kind of gradation of oppositions ; to which, and all the other circumstances already described, both for recession and beauty, nature hath added what is knowu by the name of aerial perspective ; being that interposition of air, which throws a general soft retiring tint over the whole prospect; to be seen in excess at the rising of a fog. All which again Fig. 89. T. p. 2. 126 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. receives still more distinctness, as well as a greater degree of variety, when the sun shines bright, and casts broad shadows of one object upon another ; which gives the skilful designer such hints for shew- ing broad and fine oppositions of shades, as give life and spirit to his performances. Breadth of shade is a principle that exists in making distinction more conspicuous ; thus fig.*, is better distinguished by its breadth or quantity of shade, and viewed with more ease and pleasure at any distance, than fig.f, which hath many, and these but narrow shades between the folds. And for one of the noblest instances of this, let Windsor Castle be viewed at the rising or setting of the sun. Let breadth be introduced how it will it always gives great repose to the eye ; as, on the contrary, when lights and shades in a composition are scattered about in little spots, the eye is constantly disturbed, and the mind is uneasy, especially if you are eager to understand every object in the composition, as it is painful to the ear when any one is anxious to know what is said in company, where many are talking at same time. Simplicity (which I am last to speak of) in the disposition of a great variety, is best accomplished by following nature’s constant rule, of dividing compo- sition into three or five parts, or parcels, see chap. 4, On Simplicity : the painters accordingly divide theirs into fore-ground, middle-ground, and distance or back-ground ; which simple and distinct quantities mass together that variety which entertains the eye ; Fig. 87. L. p. 1. t Fig. 88. L. p. 1. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 127 as the different parts of base, tenor, and treble, in a composition of music, entertain the ear. Let those principles be reversed, or neglected, the light and shade will appear as disagreeable as fig.*, whereas, was this to be a composition of lights and shades only, properly disposed, though ranged under no particular figures, it might still have the pleasing effect of a picture. And here, as it would be endless to enter upon the different effects of lights and shades on lucid and transparent bodies, we shall leave them to the reader’s observation, and so conclude the chapter. CHAPTER XIV. OP COLOURING. By the beauty of colouring, the painters mean that disposition of colours on objects, together with their proper shades, which appear at the same time both distinctly varied and artfully united, in compositions of any kind; but, by way of pre-eminence, it is generally understood of flesh-colour, when no other composition is named. To avoid confusion, and having already said enough of retiring shades, I shall now only describe the nature and effect of the prime tint of flesh ; for the composition of this, when rightly understood, com- prehends every thing that can be said of the colouring of all other objects whatever. And herein (as has been shewn in chap. 8, of the manner of composing pleasing forms) the whole pro- cess will depend upon the art of varying ; i. e. upon an artful manner of varying every colour belonging to flesh, under the direction of the six fundamental principles there spoken of. But before we proceed to shew in what manner these principles conduce to this design, we shall take a view of nature’s curious ways of producing all sorts of complexions, which may help to further our concep- tion of the principle of varying colours, so as to see why they cause the effect of beauty. 1. It is well known, the fair young girl, the brown ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 129 old man, and the negro ; nay, all mankind, have the same appearance, and are alike disagreeable to the eye, when the upper skin is taken away: now to conceal so disagreeable an object, and to produce that variety of complexions seen in the world, nature hath contrived a transparent skin, called the cuticula, with a lining to it of a very extraordinary kind, called the cutis ; both which are so thin any little scald will make them blister and peel off. These adhering skins are more or less transparent in some parts of the body than in others, and likewise different in different persons. The cuticula alone is like gold-beaters’ skin, a little wet, but somewhat thinner, especially in fair young people, which would shew the fat, lean, and all the blood vessels, just as they lie under it, as through isinglass, were it not for its lining the cutis, which is so curiously constructed, as to exhibit those things beneath it which are necessary to life and motion, in pleasing arrangements and dispositions of beauty. The cutis is composed of tender threads like net- work, filled with different coloured juices. The white juice serves to make the very fair complexion; — yellow, makes the brunette ; — brownish yellow, the ruddy brown ; — green yellow, the olive; — dark brown, the mulatto; — black, the negro: — These different coloured juices, together with the different meshes of the network, and the size of its threads in this or that part, cause the variety of complexions. A. description of this manner of its shewing the rosy colour of the cheek, and, in like manner, the blueish tints about the temple, &c. see in the profile,* g 3 Fig. 95. T. p. 2. 130 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. where you are to suppose the black strokes of the print to be the white threads of the network, and where the strokes are thickest, and the part blackest, you are to suppose the flesh would be whitest ; so that the lighter part of it stands for the vermillion-colour of the cheek, gradating every way. Some persons have the network so equally wove over the whole body, face and all, that the greatest heat or cold will hardly make them change their colour; and these are seldom seen to blush, though ever so bashful, whilst the texture is so fine in some young women, that they redden or turn pale, on the least occasion. I am apt to think the texture of this network is of a very tender kind, subject to damage many ways, but able to recover itself again, especially in youth. The fair fat healthy child of three or four years old hath it in great perfection; most visible w : hen it is moderately warm, but till that age somewhat imperfect. It is in this manner, then, that nature seems to do her work.— And now let us see how by art the like appearance may be made and pencilled on the surface of an uniform coloured statue of wax or marble ; by describing which operation we shall still more particu- larly point out what is to our present purpose : I mean the reason why the order nature hath thus made use of should strike us with the idea of beauty; which by the way, perhaps may be of more use to some painters than they will care to own. There are but three original colours in painting, besides black and white, viz. red, yellow, and blue. Green and purple, are compounded^ the first of blue and yellow', the latter of red and blue ; however, these ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 131 compounds being so distinctly different from the original colours, we will rank them as such. Fig.*, represents mixed up, as on a painter’s pallet, scales of these five original colours divided into seven classes, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. — 4, is the medium, and most brilliant class, being that which will appear a firm red, when those of 5, 6, 7, would deviate into white, and those of 1, 2, 3, would sink into black, either by twilight or at a moderate distance from the eye, which shews 4 to be brightest, . and a more permanent colour than the rest. But as white is nearest to light, it may be said to be equal if not superior in value as to beauty, with class 4, therefore the classes 5, 6, 7, have also, almost equal beauty with it too, because what they lose of their brilliancy and permanency of colour, they gain from the white or light ; whereas 3, 2, 1, absolutely lose their beauty by degrees as they approach nearer to black, the representative of dark- ness. Let us then, for distinction and pre-eminence sake, call class 4 of each colour, bloom tints , or if you please, virgin tints, as the painters call them ; and once more recollect, that in the disposition of colours as well as of forms, variety, simplicity, distinctness, intricacy, uniformity, and quantity, direct in giving beauty to the colouring of the human frame, especially if we include the face, where uniformity and strong opposi- tion of tints are required, as in the eyes and mouth, which call most for our attention. But for the general hue of flesh now to be described, variety, intricacy, and simplicity, are chiefly required. Fig. 94. T. p. 3. 132 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. The value of the degrees of colour being thus con- sidered and ranged in order upon the pallet, figure 94, let us next apply them to a busto, fig.'*, of white marble, which may be supposed to let every tint sink into it, like as a drop of ink sinks in and spreads itself upon coarse paper, whereby each tint will gradate all around. If you would have the neck of the busto tinged of a very florid and lively complexion, the pencil must be dipped in the bloom tints of each colour as they stand one above another at No. 4. — if for a less florid, in those of No. 5— if for a very fair, from No. 6 — and so on till the marble would scarce be tinged at all : let therefore No. 6, be our present choice, and begin with pencilling on the red, as at r, the yellow tint at y, the blue tint at b, and the purple or lake tint at p. These four tints thus laid on, proceed to covering the whole neck and breast, but still changing and varying the situations of the tints with one another, also causing their shapes and sizes to differ as much as possible ; red must be oftenest repeated, yellow next often, purple red next, and blue but seldom, except in particular parts, as the temples, backs of the hands, &c. where the larger veins shew their branching s'hapes (sometimes too distinctly) still varying those appear- ances. But there are no doubt infinite variations in nature from what may be called the most beautiful order and disposition of the colours in flesh, not only in different persons, but in different parts of the same, all subject to the same principles in some degree or other., * Fig. 96, R. p. 2. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 133 Now if we imagine this whole process to be made with the tender tints of class 7, as they are supposed to stand, red, yellow, blue, green, and purple, underneath each other ; the general hue of the performance will he a seeming uniform prime tint, at any little distance, that is a very fair, transparent and pearl-like com- plexion ; but never quite uniform as snow, ivory, mar- ble, or wax, like a poet’s mistress, for either of these in living flesh would in truth be hideous. As in nature, by the general yellowish hue of the cuticula, the gradating of one colour into another appears to be more delicately softened and united together ; so will the eolours we are supposed to have been laying upon the busto, appear to be more united and mellowed by the oils they are ground in, which takes a yellowish cast after a little time, but is apt to do more mischief hereby than good ; for which reason care is taken to procure such oil as is clearest and will best keep its colour* in oil-painting. * 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 shew, that nothing can be more absurd. Having mentioned above the whole effect of the oil, let us now see in what manner time operates on the colours them- selves; 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 ultramarine, will keep its natural bright- ness even in the fire. Therefore how is it possible that such 134 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. Upon the whole of this account we find, that the utmost beauty of colouring depends on the great prin- 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 sake we suppose, that the colours were to fall equally together, let us see what 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 gentianella, 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 mellow 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 bril- liant 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 greater lustre when embrowned and darkened by decay? surely not. I own it would be a pity that Mr. Addison’s beautiful description of time at work in the gallery of pictures, and the following lines of Mr. Dryden, should want a sufficient foundation ; For time shall with his ready pencil stand, Retouch your figures with his ripening hand ; Mellow your colours, and embrown the tint ; Add every grace which time alone can grant ; To future ages shall your fame convey, And give more beauties than he takes away. Dryden to Kneller. Were it not that the error they are built upon, hath been a ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 135 ciple of varying by all the means of varying, and on the proper and artful union of that variety ; which may be farther proved by supposing the rules here laid down, all or any part of them reversed. I am apt to believe, that the not knowing nature’s artful and intricate method of uniting colours for the production of the variegated composition, or prime tint of flesh, hath made colouring, in the art of painting, a kind of mystery in all ages ; insomuch that it may fairly be said, out of the many thousands who have continual blight to the growth of the art, by misguiding both the proficient, and the encourager ; and often compelling the former, contrary to his former judgment, to imitate the damaged hue cf decayed pictures ; so thatwhen his works undergo the like injuries, they must have a double remove from nature ; which puts it in the power of the meanest observer to see his deficiencies. Whence another absurd notion hath taken rise, viz. that the colours nowa- days do not stand so well as formerly ; whereas colours well prepared, in which there is but little art or expense, have and will always have, the same properties in every age, and without accidents, as damps, bad varnish, and the like, (being laid separate and pure,) will stand and keep together for many years in defiance of time itself. In proof of this, let any one take a view of the ceiling at Greenwich Hospital, painted by Sir James Thornhill, forty years ago, which still remains fresh, strong, and clear, as if it had been finished but yesterday ; and although several French writers have so learnedly and philosophically proved, that the air of this island is too thick, or — too something, for the genius of a painter, yet France in all her palaces can hardly boast of a nobler, more judicious, or richer performance of its kind. Note, the upper end of the hall where the royal family is painted, was left chiefly to the pencil of Mr. Andrea, a foreigner, after the payment originally agreed upon for the work was so much reduced, as made it not worth Sir James’s while to finish the whole with his own more masterly hand. 136 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. laboured to attain it, not above ten or twelve painters have happily succeeded therein. Corregio (who lived in a country-village, and had nothing but the life to study after) is said almost to have stood alone for this particular excellence. Guido, who made beauty his chief aim, was always at a loss about it. Poussin scarce ever obtained a glimpse of it, as is manifest by his many different attempts : indeed France hath not produced one remarkable good colourist.* Rubens boldly, and in a masterly manner, kept his bloom tints bright, separate, and distinct, but some- times too much so for easel or cabinet pictures ; how- ever, his manner was admirably well calculated for great works, to be seen at a considerabte distance, such as his celebrated ceiling at Whitehall Chapel :f which, upon a. nearer view, will illustrate what I have advanced with regard to the separate brightness of the * The lame excuse writers on painting have made for the many great masters that have failed in this particular, is, that they purposely deadened their colours, and kept them, what they affectedly called chaste, that the correctness of their outlines might be seen to greater advantage. Whereas colours cannot he too brilliant, if properly disposed, because the distinction of the parts are thereby made more perfect; as maybe seen by comparing a marble busto with the variegated colours of the face, either in the life, or one well painted : it is true, uncomposed variety, either in the features or the limbs, as being daubed with many, or one colour, will so confound the parts as to render them unintellgible. f The front of this building, by Inigo Jones, is an additional exemplification of the principles for varying the parts in building; (explained by the candlesticks, &c. chap. 8.) which would appear to be a stronger proof still, were a building formed of squares on squares ; with squares uniformly cut in each square to be opposed to it, to shew the reverse. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 137 tints; and shew, what indeed is known to every painter, that had the colours, there seen so bright and separate, been all smoothed and absolutely blended together, they would have produced a dirty grey instead of flesh colour. The difficulty, then, lies in bringing blue , the third original colour, into flesh, on account of the vast variety introduced thereby ; and this omitted, all the difficulty ceases ; and a com- mon sign-painter, that lays his colours smooth, in- stantly becomes, in point of colouring, a Rubens, a Titian, or a Corregio. CHAPTER XV. OS' THE FACE. Having thus spoken briefly of light, shade, and colour, we now return to our lineal account of form, as pro- posed (page 107) with regard to the face. It is an ob- servation, that, out of the great number of faces that have been formed since the creation of the world, no two have been so exactly alike, but that the usual and common discernment of the eye would discover a dif- ference between them : therefore it is not unreason- able to suppose, that this discernment is still capable of further improvements by instructions from a me- thodical inquiry ; which the ingenious Mr. Richard- son, in his treatise on painting, terms the art of seeing. 1. I shall begin with a description of such lines as compose the features of a face of the highest taste, and the reverse. See fig.*, taken from an antique head, which stands in the first rank of estimation : in proof of this, Raphael Urbin, and other great painters and sculptors, have imitated it for the characters of their heroes and other great men ; and the old man’s head, fig.f, was modelled in clay, by Fiamingo (and not in- ferior, in its taste of lines, to the best antique,) for the use of Andrea Sacchi, after which model he painted all the heads in his famous picture of St. Romoaldo’s Fig 97. B. p. 1. f Fig. 98. L.p. 1. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 139 dream; and this picture hath the reputation of being one of the best pictures in the world.* These examples are here chosen to exemplify and confirm the force of serpentine lines in a face ; and let it also be observed, that in these master-pieces of art, all the parts are otherwise consistent with the rules heretofore laid down : I shall therefore only shew the effects and use of the line of beauty. One way of proving in what manner the serpentine line appears to operate in this respect, may be by pressing several pieces of wire close up and down the different parts of the face and features of those casts ; which wires will all come off so many serpentine lines, as is partly marked in fig. 97, B. p. 1. by the dotted lines. The beard and hair of the head, fig. 98, being a set of loose lines naturally, and therefore disposable at the painter’s or sculptor's pleasure, are remarkably composed in this head of nothing else but a varied play of serpen- tine lines, twisting together in a flame-like manner. But as imperfections are easier to be imitated than perfections, we shall now have it in our power to ex- plain the latter more fully ; by shewing the reverse in several degrees, down to the most contemptible mean- ness that lines can be formed into. Figure 99, is the first degree of deviation from figure 97 ; where the lines are made straighter, and reduced in quantity; deviating still more in figure 100, * Note, I must refer the reader to the casts of both these pieces of sculpture, which are to be found in the hands of the curious; because it is impossible to express all that I intend, with sufficient accuracy, in a print of this size, whatever pains might have been taken with it ; or indeed in any print, were it ever so large. 140 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. more yet in figure 101, and yet more visibly in 102; figure 103, still more so, figure 104 is totally divested of all lines of elegance, like a barber’s block ; and 105 is composed merely of such plain lines as children make, when of themselves they begin to imitate in drawing a human face. It is evident, the inimitable Butler was sensible of the mean and ridiculous effect of such kind of lines, by the description he gives of the shape of Hudibras’s beard, fig.*, In cut and dye so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile. 2. With regard to character and expression ; we have daily many instances which confirm the common received opinion, that the face is the index of the mind ; and this maxim is so rooted in us, we can scarce help (if our attention is a little raised) forming some particular conception of the person’s mind, whose face we are observing, even before we receive informa- tion by any other means. How often is it said, on the slightest view, that such a one looks like a good-natured man, that he hath an honest open countenance, or looks like a cunning rogue ; a man of sense, or a fool, &c. And how are our eyes rivetted to the aspects of kings and heroes, murderers and saints ; and as we contemplate their deeds, seldom fail of making appli- cation to their looks. It is reasonable to believe that aspect to be a true and legible representation of the mind, which gives every one the same idea at first sight ; and is afterwards confirmed in fact ; for, in- stance, all concur in the same opinion, at first sight, of a downright idiot. Fig, 106. L. p. l. ANALYSTS OF BEAUTY 141 There is but little to be seen by children’s faces, more than that they are heavy or lively ; and scarcely that, unless they are in motion. Very handsome faces of almost any age, will hide a foolish or a wicked mind till they betray themselves by their actions or their words : yet the frequent awkward movements of the muscles of the fool’s face, though ever so handsome, is apt in time to leave such traces up and down it, as will distinguish a defect of mind upon examination : but the bad man, if he be a hypocrite, may so manage his muscles, by teaching them to contradict his heart, that little of his mind can be gathered from his countenance, so that the character of a hypocrite is entirely out of the power of the pencil, without some adjoining circumstance to discover him, as smiling or stabbing at the same time, or the like. It is by the natural and unaffected movements of the muscles, caused by the passions of the mind, that every man’s character would in some measure be written in his face, by that time he arrives at forty years of age, were it not for certain accidents which often, though not always, prevent it. For the ill- natured man, by frequently frowning, and pouting out the muscles of his mouth, doth in time bring those parts to a constant state of the appearance of ill-nature, which might have been prevented by tbe constant affectation of a smile ; and so of the other passions : though there are some that do not affect the muscles at all simply of themselves, as love and hope. But lest I should be thought to lay too great a stress on outward shew, like a physiognomist, take this with you, that it is acknowledged there are so many different causes which produce the same kind 142 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. of movements and appearances of the features, and so many thwartings by accidental shapes in the make of faces, that the old adage, fronti nulla fides , will ever stand its ground upon the whole ; and for very wise reasons nature hath thought fit it should. But, on the other hand, as in many particular cases, we receive information from the expressions of the coun- tenance, what follows is meant to give a lineal des- cription of the language written therein. It may not be amiss just to look over the passions of the mind, from tranquility to extreme despair ; as they are in order described in the common drawing- book, called Le Brutis Passions of the Mind ; selected from that great master’s works for the use of learners ; where you may have a compendious view of all the common expressions at once. And although these are but imperfect copies, they will answer our purpose in this place better than any other thing I can refer you to ; because the passions are there ranged in succession, and distinctly marked with lines only, the shadows being omitted. Some features are formed so as to make this or that expression of a passion more or less legible ; for example, the little narrow Chinese eye suits a loving or laughing expression best, as a large full eye doth those of fierceness and astonishment ; and round-rising muscles will appear with some degree of cheerfulness even in sorrow: the features thus suiting with the expressions that have been often repeated in the face, at length mark it with such lines as sufficiently dis- tinguish the character of the minci. The ancients in their lowest characters have shewn as much judgment, and as great a degree of taste in ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 143 the management and twisting of the lines of them, as in their statues of a sublimer kind ; in the former vary- ing only from the precise line of grace in some parts where the character or action required it. The dying gladiator, and the dancing faun, the former a slave, the latter a wild clown, are sculptured in as high a taste of lines as the Antinous or Apollo ; with this difference, that the precise line of grace abounds more in the two last : notwithstanding which, it is generally allowed there is equal merit in the former, as there is near as much judgment required for the execution of them. Human nature can hardly be represented more debased than in the character of the Silenus, fig.*, where the bulging-line figure 49, No. 7, runs through all the features of the face, as well as the other parts of his swinish body : whereas in the satyr of the wood, though the ancients have joined the brute with the man, we still see preserved an elegant display of ser- pentine lines, that make it a graceful figure. Indeed the works of art have need of the whole advantage of this line to make up for its other defici- ences: for though in nature’s works the line of beauty is often neglected, or mixed with plain lines, yet so far are they from being defective on this account, that by this means there is exhibited that infinite variety of human forms which always distinguishes the hand of nature from the limited and insufficient one of art ; and as thus she for the sake of variety upon the whole, deviates sometimes into plain and inelegant lines, if the poor artist is but able now and then to correct and give a better taste to some particular part of what he 144 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. imitates, by having learnt so to do from her more per- fect works, or copying from those that have, ten to one he grows vain upon it, and fancies himself a nature-mender ; not considering that even in these, the meanest of her works, she is never wholly desti- tute of such lines of beauty and other delicacies, as are not only beyond his narrow reach, but are seen wanting even in the most celebrated attempts to rival her. But to return, As to what we call plain lines, there is this remark- able effect constantly produced by them, that being more or less conspicuous in any kind of character or expression of the face, they bring along with them certain degrees of a foolish or ridiculous aspect. It is the inelegance of these lines which more pro- perly belonging to inanimate bodies, and being seen where lines of more beauty and taste are expected, that renders the face silly and ridiculous. See chap. 6, p. 51. Children in infancy have movements in the mus- cles of their faces peculiar to their age, as an unin- formed and unmeaning stare, and open mouth, and simple grin : all which expressions are chiefly formed of plain curves, and these movements and expressions idiots are apt to retain ; so that in time they mark their faces with these uncouth lines; and when the lines coincide and agree with the natural forms of the features, it becomes a more apparent and confirmed character of an idiot. These plain shapes last men- tioned, sometimes happen to people of the best sense, to some when the features are at rest, to others when they are put into motion ; which a variety of constant regular movements proceeding from a good under- ANALYSTS OF BEAUTY. 14.5 standing, and fashioned by a genteel education, will often by degrees correct into lines of more elegance. That particular expression likewise of the face, or movement of a feature which becomes one person, shall be disagreeable in another, just as such expres- sions or turns chance to fall in with lines of beauty, or the reverse ; for this reason there are pretty frowns and disagreeable smiles ; the lines that form a pleasing- smile about the corners of the mouth have gentle windings, as fig.*, but lose their beauty in the full laugh, as fig.f, the expression of excessive laughter, oftener than any other, gives a sensible face a silly or disagreeable look, as it is apt to form regular plain lines about the mouth, like a parenthesis, which some- times appear like crying ; as on the contrary, I remember to have seen a beggar who had clouted up his head very artfully, and whose visage was thin and pale enough to excite pity, but his features were other- wise so unfortunately formed for his purpose, that what he intended for a grin of pain and misery, was rather a joyous laugh. It is strange that nature hath afforded us so many lines and shapes to indicate the deficiencies and blemishes of the mind, whilst there are none at all that point out the perfections of it beyond the appearance of common sense and placidity. Deportment, words, and actions, must speak the good, the wise, the witty, the humane, the generous, the merciful, and the brave. Nor are gravity and solemn looks always signs of wisdom : the mind much occupied with trifles will occasion as grave and sagacious an aspect, as if it was * f Fig. 109, L. p. 2. 3. Fig. 108, L p. 2. H 146 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. charged with matters of the utmost moment ; the balance-master’s attention to a single point, in order to preserve his balance, may look as wise at that time as the greatest philosopher in the depth of his studies. All that the ancient sculptors could do, notwithstanding their enthusiastic endeavours to raise the characters of their deities to aspects of sagacity above human, was to give them features of beauty. Their god o f wisdom hath no more in his look than a handsome manliness; the Jupiter is carried somewhat higher, by giving it a little more severity than the Apollo, by a larger prominency of brow gently bending in seeming thoughtfulness, with an ample beard, which being added to the noble quantity of its other lines, invests that capital piece of sculpture with uncommon dignity, which in the mysterious language of a profound connoisseur, is styled a divine idea, inconceivably great, and above nature. 3dly and lastly, I shall shew in what manner the lines of the face alter from infancy upwards, and specify the different ages. We are now to pay most attention to simplicity , as the difference of ages we are about to speak of, turns chiefly upon the use made of this principle in a greater or less degree, in the form of the lines. From infancy till the body has done growing, the contents both of the body and the face, and every part of their surface, are daily changing into more variety, till they obtain a certain medium (see page 95 On Proportion) from which medium, as fig.*, if we return back to infancy, we shall see the variety decreasing, * Fig. 113. B. p. 2. ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 147 till by degrees that simplicity in the form, which gave variety its due limits, deviates into sameness ; so that all the parts of the face may be circumscribed in several circles, as fig.*. But there is another very extraordinary circumstance, (perhaps never taken notice of before in this light) which nature hath given us to distinguish one age from another by ; which is, that though every feature grows larger and longer, till the whole person has done growing, the sight of the eye still keeps its original size ; I mean the pupil, with its iris or ring ; for the diameter of this circle continues still the same, and so becomes a fixed measure by which we, as it were, insensibly compare the daily perceived growings of the other parts of the face, and thereby determine a young person’s age. You may sometimes find this part of the eye in a new-born infant full as large as in a man of six foot ; nay sometimes larger, see fig.f , and*. In infancy the faces of boys and girls have no visible difference, § but as they grow up the features of the boy get the start, and grow faster in proportion to the ring of the eye, than those of the girl, which shews the distinction of the sex in the face. Boys who have * Fig. 116. L. p. 2. f Fig. 110. B. p. 2. + Fig. 114. B. p. 2. § Fig. 115. T. p. 1. which represents three different sizes of the pupil of the eye ; the least, was exactly taken from the eye of a large-featured man, aged 105, the biggest, from one of twenty, who had this part larger than ordinary, and the other is the common size. If this part of the eye in the picture of Charles II. and James II. painted by Vandyke, at Kensington, were to be measured with a pair of compasses, and compared with their pictures painted by Lilly, when they were men, the diameters would be found in both pictures respectively the same. H 2 148 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. larger features than ordinary, in proportion to the rings of their eyes, are what we call manly-featured children ; as those who have the contrary, look more childish and younger than they really are. It is this proportion of the features with the eyes, that makes women, when they are dressed in men’s clothes, look so young and boyish : but as nature doth not always stick close to these particulars, we may be mistaken both in sexes and ages. By these obvious appearances, and the differences of the whole size, we easily judge of ages till twenty, but not with such certainty afterwards ; for the altera- tions from that age are of a different kind, subject to other changes by growing fatter or leaner, which it is well known often give a different turn to the look of the person, with regard to his age. The hair of the head, which encompasses a face as a frame doth a picture, and contrasts with its uniform colour, the variegated inclosed composition, adding more or less beauty thereto, according as it is disposed by the rules of art, is another indication of advanced age. What remains to be said on the different appear- ances of ages, being less pleasing than what has gone before, shall be described with more brevity. In the age from twenty to thirty, barring accidents, there appears but little change, either in the colours or the lines of the face; for though the bloom tints may go off a little, yet on the other hand, the make of the features often attain a sort of settled firmness in them, aided by an air of acquired sensibility; which makes ample amends for that loss, and keeps beauty till thirty pretty much upon a par; after this time, as the ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 149 alterations grow more and more visible, we perceive the sweet simplicity of many rounding parts of the face begin to break into dented shapes, with more sudden turns about the muscles, occasioned by their many repeated movements; as also by dividing the broad parts, and thereby taking off the large sweeps of the serpentine lines; the shades of beauty also conse- quently suffering in their softnesses. Something of what is here meant between the two ages of thirty and fifty, see in figures,* and what further havoc time continues to make after the age of fifty, is too remarkable to need describing : the strokes and cuts he then lays on are plain enough ; however, in spite of all his malice, those lineaments that have once been elegant, retain their flowing turns in venerable age, leaving to the last a comely piece of ruins. Fig. 117. and Fig. 118. B. p. 2, CHAPTEE XVI. OP ATTITUDE. Such dispositions of the body and limbs as appear most graceful when seen at .rest, depend upon gentle winding contrasts, mostly governed by the precise serpentine line, which in attitudes of authority, are more extended and spreading than ordinary, but reduced somewhat below the medium of grace in those of negligence and ease : and as much exaggerated in insolent and proud carriage, or in distortions of pain (see figure 9, plate 1.) as lessened and contracted into plain and parallel lines, to express meanness, awkward- ness, and submission. The general idea of an action, as well as of an attitude, may be given with a pencil in very few lines. It is easy to conceive that the attitude of a person upon the cross, may be fully signified by the two straight lines of the cross ; so the extended manner of St. Andrew’s crucifixion is wholly understood by the X-like cross. Thus, as two or three lines at first are sufficient to shew the intention of an attitude, I will take this opportunity of presenting my reader (who may have been at the trouble of following me thus far) with the sketch of a country-dance, in the manner I began to set out the design; in order to shew how few lines are necessary to express the first thoughts, as to different ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 151 attitudes ; see fig.* which describe in some measure, the several .figures and actions, mostly of the ridiculous kind, that are represented in the chief part of plate 2. The most amiable person may deform his general appearance by throwing his body and limbs into plain lines, but such lines appear still in a more disagreeable light in people of a particular make : I have therefore chose such figures as I thought would agree best with my first score of lines, fig. 71. The two parts of curves next to 71, served for the figures of the old woman and her partner at the farther end of the room. The curve and two straight lines at right angles, gave the hint for the fat man’s sprawling posture. I next resolved to keep a figure within the bounds of a circle, which produced the upper part of the fat woman, between the fat man and the awkward one in the bag wig, for whom I had made a sort of an X. The prim lady, his partner, in the riding-habit, by pecking back her elbows, as they call it, from the waist upwards, made a tolerable D, with a straight line under it, to signify the scanty stiffness of her petti- coat ; and a Z stood for the angular position the body makes with the legs and thighs of the affected fellow in the tye-wig ; the upper parts of his plump partner was confined to an 0, and this changed into a P, served as a hint for the straight lines behind. The uniform diamond of a card, was filled up by the flying dress, kc. of the little capering figure in the spencer- wig; whilst a double L marked the parallel position of his poking partner’s hands and arms : and lastly, Fig. 71 , T. p. 2. 1 52 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. the two waving lines were drawn for the more genteel turns of the two figures at the hither end. The best representation in a picture, of even the most elegant dancing, as every figure is rather a suspended action in it than an attitude, must be always somewhat unnatural and ridiculous ; for were it possible in a real dance to fix every person at one instant of time, as in a picture, not one in twenty would appear to be graceful, though each were ever so much so in their movements; nor could the figure of the dance itself be at all understood. The dancing-room is also ornamented purposely with such statues and pictures as may serve to a farther illustration. Henry the Eighth, fig.*, makes a perfect X with his legs and arms ; and the position of Charles the First, fig.f, is composed of less varied lines than the statue of Edward the Sixth, fig. 'I, 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 the French print of Sancho, where Don Quixote demolishes the puppet shew, fig.§,) is a good contrast to the effect of th serpentine lines in the fine turn of the Samaritan woman, fig.||, taken from one of the best pictures Annibal Carracci ever painted. * Fig. 72. p. 2. f Fig. 51. p. 2. + Fig. 73. p. 2. § Fig. 75. R. p. 2. || Fig. 74. L. p, 2. CHAPTER XVII. OP ACTION. To the amazing variety of forms made still infinitely more various in appearance by light, shade, and colour, nature hath added another way of increasing that variety, still more to enhance the value of all her compositions. This is accomplished by means of action; the fullest display of which is put into the power of the human species, and which is equally subject to the same principles with regard to the effects of beauty, or the reverse, as govern all the former compositions ; as is partly seen in chapter XI. On Proportion. My business here shall be, in as concise a manner as possible, to particularise the application of these principles to the movement of the body, and therewith finish this system of variety in forms and actions. There is no one but would wish to have it in his power to be genteel and graceful in the carriage of his person, could it be attained with little trouble and expense of time. The usual methods relied on for this purpose among well-bred people, take up a con- siderable part of their time : nay, even those of the first rank have no other recourse in these matters, than to dancing-masters, and fencing-masters : dancing and fencing are undoubtedly proper, and very necessary accomplishments; yet are they frequently very im- perfect in bringing about the business of graceful deportment. For although the muscles of the body ii 3 154 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. may attain a pliancy by these exercises, and the limbs, by the elegant movement in dancing, acquire a facility in moving gracefully, yet for want of knowing the meaning of every grace, and whereon it depends, affectations and misapplications often follow. Action is a sort of language which perhaps one time or other may come to be taught by a kind of grammar-rules; but, at present, is only got by rote and imitation; and, contrary to most other copyings or imitations, people of rank and fortune generally excel their originals, the dancing-masters, in easy behaviour and unaffected grace; as a sense of supe- riority makes them act without constraint, especially when their persons are well-turned. If so, what can be more conducive to that freedom and necessary courage which make acquired grace seem easy and natural, than the being able to demonstrate when we are actually just and proper in the least movement we perform ; whereas, for want of such certainty in the mind, if one of the most finished gentlemen at court was to appear as an actor on the public stage, he would find himself at a loss how to move properly, and be stiff, narrow, and awkward in representing even his own character; the uncertainty of being right would naturally give him some of that restraint which the uneducated common people generally have when they appear before their betters. It is known that bodies in motion always describe some line or other in the air, as the whirling round of a fire-brand apparently makes a circle, the water-fall part of a curve, the arrow and bullet, by the swiftness of their motions, nearly a straight line ; waving lines are formed by the pleasing movement of a ship on ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 155 the waves. Now, in order to obtain a just idea of action, at the same time to be judiciously satisfied of being in the right in what we do, let us begin with imagining a line formed in the air by any supposed point at the end of a limb or part that is moved, or made by the whole part, or limb; or by the whole body together. And that thus much of movements may be conceived at once is evident on the least recollection ; for whoever has seen a fine Arabian war- horse, unbacked and at liberty, and in a wanton trot, cannot but remember what a large waving line his rising, and at the same time pressing forward, cuts through the air; the equal continuation of which is varied by its curveting from side to side; whilst his long mane and tail play about in serpentine movements. After thus having formed the idea of all movements being as lines, it will not be difficult to conceive, that grace in action depends upon the same principles as have been shewn to produce it in form. The next thing that offers itself to our consideration is the force of habit and custom in action, for a great deal depends thereon. The peculiar movememts of each person, as the gait in walking, are particularised in such lines as each part describes by the habits they have contracted. The nature and power of habit may be fully conceived by the following familiar instance, as the motions of one part of the body may serve to explain those of the whole. Observe, that whatever habit the fingers get in the use of the pen, you see exactly delineated to the eye by the shapes of the letters. Were the move- ments of every writer’s fingers to be precisely the 156 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. same, one hand-writing would not be known from 1 another ; but as the fingers naturally fall into, or ac- quire different habits of moving, every hand-writing is visibly different. Which movements must tally with the letters, though they are too quick and too small to be as perfectly traced by the eye : but this shews what nice differences are caused, and constantly retained, by habitual movements. It may be remarked, that all useful habitual motions, such as are readiest to serve the necessary purposes of life, are those made up of plain lines, i. e. straight and circular lines, -which most animals have in common with mankind, though not in so extensive a degree : the monkey, from his make, hath it suffi- ciently in his power to be graceful ; but as reason is required for this purpose, it would be impossible to bring him to move genteelly. Though I have said that the ordinary actions of the body are performed in plain lines, I mean only comparatively so with those of studied movements in the serpentine line ; for as all our muscles are ever ready to act, when one part is moved, (as an hand or arm, by its proper movers, for raising up or drawing down,) the adjacent muscles act in some degree in correspondence with them ; therefore our most com- mon movements are but seldom performed in such absolutely mean lines as those of jointed dolls and puppets. A man must have a good deal of practice to be able to mimic such very straight or round motions, which, being incompatible with the human form, are therefore ridiculous. Let it be observed, that graceful movements in serpentine lines are used but occasionally, and rather ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 157 at times of leisure, than constantly applied to every action we make. The whole business of life may be carried on without them, they being, properly speak- ing, only the ornamental part of gesture, and there- fore, not being naturally familiarized by necessity, must be acquired by precept or imitation, and reduced to habit by frequent repetitions. Precept is the means I should recommend as the most expeditious and effectual way. But before we proceed to the method I have to propose for the more ready and sure way of accustoming the limbs to a facility in the ornamental way of moving, I should observe, that quick time gives it spirit and vivacity, as slow time, gravity and solemnity; and further, that the latter of these allows the eye an opportunity of seeing the line of grace to advantage, as in the address of heroes on the stage, or in any solemn act of ceremony ; and that although time in movement is reduced to certain rules for dancing, it is left more at large, and at discretion for deportment. We come now to offer an odd, but perhaps effica- cious method of acquiring a habit of moving in the tines of grace and beauty. 1. Let any one chalk the line, fig.*, on a flat sur- face, beginning at either end, and he will move his hand and arm in a beautiful direction ; but if he chalks the same sort of line on an ogee-moulding of a foot or two in breath, as the dotted line on figuref, his hand must move in that more beautiful direction which is distinguished by the name of grace ; and according to the quantity given to those lines, great- Fig. 119. L. p. 2. f Fig. 120, L. p. 2. 158 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. ness will be added to grace, and the movement will be more or less noble. Gentle movements of this sort, thus understood, may be made at any time and any where, which, by frequent repetitions, will become so familiar to the parts so exercised, that, on proper occasion, they make them as it were of their own accord. The pleasing effect of this manner of moving the hand is seen when a snuff-box, or fan, is presented gracefully or genteelly to a lady, both in the hand moving forward and in its return ; but care must be taken that the line of movement be but gentle, as No. 3, fig. 49, plate 1, and not too S-like and twirling, as No. 7 in the same figure : which excess would be affected and ridiculous. Daily practising these movements with the hands and arms, as also with such other parts of the body as are capable of them, will, in a short time, render the whole person graceful and easy at pleasure. 2. As to the motions of the head , the awe most children are in before strangers, till they come to a certain age, is the cause of their drooping and draw- ing their chins down into their breasts, and looking- under their foreheads, as if conscious of their weak- ness, or of something wrong about them. To prevent this awkward shyness, parents and tutors are con- tinually teasing them to hold up their heads, which, if they get them to do, it is with difficulty, and of course in so constrained a manner that it gives the children pain, so that they naturally take all oppor- tunities of easing themselves by holding down their heads, which posture would be full as uneasy to them were it not a relief from restraint : and there is another ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY, 159 misfortune in holding down the head, that it is apt to make them bend too much in the back ; when this happens to be the case, they then have recourse to steel-collars and other iron machines, all which shacklings are rupugoant to nature, and may make the body grow crooked. This daily fatigue, both to the children and the parents, may be avoided, and an ugly habit prevented, by only (at a proper age) fasten- ing a ribbon to a quantity of plaited hair, or to the cap, so as it may be kept fast in its place, and the other end to the back of the coat, as fig.*, of such a length as may prevent them drawing their chins into their necks : which ribbon will always leave the head at liberty to move in any direction but this awkward one they are so apt to fall into. But till children arrive at a reasoning age, it will be difficult by any means to teach them more grace that what is natural to every well-made child at liberty. The grace of the upper parts of the body is most engaging, and sensible well-made people, in any station, naturally have it in a great degree; there- fore rules, unless they are simple, and easily retained and practised, are of little use, nay, rather are of dis- service. Holding the head erect is but occasionally right, a proper recline of it may be as graceful ; but true elegance is mostly seen in the moving it from one position to another. And this may be attained by a sensibility within 160 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. yourself, though you have not a sight of what you do by looking in the glass, when with your head, as- sisted by a sway of the body in order to give it more scope, you endeavour to make that very serpentine line in the air, which the hands have been before taught to do by the help of the ogee moulding ; and I will venture to say, a few careful repetitions at first setting out will make this movement as easy to the head as to the hands and arms. The most graceful bow is got by the head’s moving in this direction, as it goes downward and rises up again. Some awkward imitators of this elegant way of bowing, for want of knowing what they were about, have seemed to bow with wry necks. The low solemn bow to majesty should have but a very little twist, if any, as more becoming gravity and submission. The clownish nod, in a sudden straight line, is quite the reverse of these spoken of. The most elegant and respectful courtesy hath a gentle, or small degree of the above graceful bowing of the head as the person sinks, and rises, and retreats. If it should be said, that a fine courtesy consists in no more than in being erect in person at the time of sinking and rising, Madam Catherine in clock-work, or the dancing bears led about the street for a show^ must be allowed to make as good a courtesy as any- body. J\T. B. It is necessary in bowing and courtesying to shun an exact sameness at all times ; for, however graceful it may be on some occasions, at other times it may seem formal and improper. Shakspeare seems to have meant the above-spoken-of ornamental manner ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 161 of bowing, in Enobarbus’s description of Cleopatra’s waiting-women : “ And made their bends adorning.” Act ii. 3. Of Dancing. The minuet is allowed by the 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 he could only say with Socrates, lie 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. No doubt, as the minuet contains in it a composed variety of as many movements in the serpentine lines as can well be put together in distinct quanti- ties, it is a fine composition of movements. The ordinary undulating motion of the body in common walking (as may be plainly seen by the waving line, which the shadow a man’s head makes against a wall as he is walking between it and the afternoon sun) is augmented in dancing into a larger quantity of waving by means of the minuet-step, which is so contrived as to raise the body by gentle degrees somewhat higher than ordinary, and sink it again in the same manner lower in the going on of the dance. The figure of the minuet-path on the floor is also composed of serpentine lines, as fig.*, varying a little with the fashion : when the parties, by means of this step, rise and fall most smoothly in time, and free from sudden starting and dropping, * Fig. 122, T. p. 2. 162 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. they come nearest to Shakspeare’s idea of the beauty of dancing, in the following lines : “ What you do, Still betters what is done, — — When you do dance, I wish you A wave o’ th’ sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so, And own no other function.” — Winter’s Tale. The other beauties belonging to this dance are, the turns of the head, and twist of the body, in passing each other, as also gentle bowing and presenting hands in the manner before described ; all which together display the greatest variety of movements in serpentine lines imaginable, keeping equal pace with musical time. There are other dances that entertain merely be- cause they are composed of variety of movements and performed in proper time; but the less they con- sist of serpentine or waving lines, the lower they are in the estimation of dancing-masters : for, as has been shown, when the form of the body is divested of its serpentine lines, it becomes ridiculous as a human figure; so, likewise, when all movements in such lines are excluded in a dance, it becomes low, grotesque, and comical; but, however, being, as was said, composed of variety, made consistent with some character, and executed with agility, it nevertheless is very entertaining. Such are Italian peasant-dances, &,c. But such uncouth contortions of the body as are allowable in a man would disgust in a woman ; as the extreme graceful, so very alluring in this sex, is nau- ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 163 seous in the other; even the minuet-grace in a man would hardly be approved, but as the main drift of it represents repeated addresses to the lady. There is a much greater consistency in the dances of the Italian theatre than of the French, notwith- standing dancing seems to be the genius of that nation. The following distinctly marked characters were originally from Italy; and, if we consider them lineally as to their particular movements, we shall see wherein their humour consists. The attitudes of the harlequin are ingeniously com- posed of certain little quick movements of the head, hands, and feet, some of which shoot out as it were from the body in straight lines, or are twirled about in little circles. Scaramouch is gravely absurd as the character is intended, in over-stretched tedious movements of unnatural lengths of lines. These two characters seem to have been contrived by conceiving a direct opposi- tion of movements. Pierrott’s movements and attitudes are chiefly in perpendiculars and parallels, so is his figure and dress. Punchinello is droll by being the reverse of all elegance, both as to movement and figure ; the beauty of variety is totally and comically excluded from this character in every respect; his limbs are raised and let fall almost altogether at one time, in parallel direc- tions, as if his seeming fewer joints than ordinary were no better than the hinges of a door. Dances that represent provincial characters, as these above do, or very low people, such as gardeners, sailors, &c. in merriment, are generally most enter- taining on the stage : the Italians have lately added 164 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. great pleasantry and humour to several French dances, particularly the wooden-shoe dance, in which there is a continual shifting from one attitude in plain lines to another; both the man and the woman often comically fix themselves in uniform positions, and frequently start, in equal time, into angular forms, one of which remarkably represents two W’s in a line, as over figure 152, plate 2. These sort of dances a little raised, especially on the woman’s side, in expressing elegant wantonness (which is the true spirit of dancing,) have of late years been most delightfully done, and seem at present to have got the better of pompous, unmeaning, grand ballets ; serious dancing being even a contradiction in terms. 4thly. Of Country Dancing. The lines which a number of people together form in country or figure dancing, make a delightful play upon the eye, espe- cially when the whole figure is to be seen at one view, as at the play-house from the gallery ; the beauty of this kind of mystic dancing, as the poets term it, depends upon moving in a compound variety of lines, chiefly serpentine, governed by the principles of intricacy, &c. The dances of barbarians are always represented without these movements, being only composed of wild skipping, jumping, and turning round, or running backward and forward, with con- vulsive shrugs and distorted gestures. One of the most pleasing movements in country dancing, and which answers to all the principles of varying at once, is what they call the hay ; the figure of it altogether is a cypher of S’s, or a number of serpentine lines interlacing, or intervolving each other, which suppose traced on the floor, the lines would ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 165 appear as fig.* Milton, in his Paradise Lost , des- cribing the angels dancing about the sacred hill, pictures the whole idea in words : — “ Mystical dance ! Mazes intricate, Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular; Then most, when most irregular they seem.” I shall venture, lastly, to say a word or two of stage-action. From what has been said of habitually moving in waving lines, it may possibly he found that, if stage-action, particularly the graceful, was to be studied lineally, it may be more speedily and accurately acquired by the help of the foregoing prin- ciples than the methods hitherto taken. It is known that common deportment, such as may pass for elegant and proper off the stage, would no more be thought sufficient upon it than the dialogue of com- mon polite conversation would be accurate or spirited enough for the language of a play. So that trusting to chance only will not do. The actions of every scene ought to be as much as possible a complete composition of well-varied movements, considered as such abstractedly, and apart from what may be merely relative to the sense of the words. Action, considered with regard to assisting the author’s mean- ing, by enforcing the sentiments or raising the passions, must be left entiiely to the judgment of the performer* we only pretend to show how the limbs may be made to have an equal readiness to move in all such direc- tions as may be required. Fig. 123. T. p. 2. 166 ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. What I would have understood hy action, ab- stractedly and apart from its giving force to the meaning of the words, may be better concei\ed by supposing a foreigner, who l's a thorough master of all the effects of action at one of our theatres, but quite ignorant of the language of the play ; it is evident his sentiments, under such limitations, would chiefly arise from what he might distinguish by the lines of the movements belonging to each character ; the actions of an old man, if proper or not, would be visible to him at once, and he would judge of low and odd characters by the inelegant lines which we have already shown to belong to the characters of Punch, Harlequin, Pierrott, or the Clown; so he would also form his judgment of the graceful acting of a fine gentleman, or hero, by the elegance of their movements in such lines of grace and beauty as ha\e been sufficiently described. See chapters 5, 6, 7, 8, On the Composition of Forms: where note, that as the whole of beauty depends upon continually varying , the same must be observed with regard to genteel and elegant acting; and plain space makes a con- siderable part of beauty in form, so cessation of movement in acting is as absolutely necessary, and, in my opinion, much wanted on most stages, to relieve the eye from what Shakspeare calls, continually sawing the air. The actress hath sufficient grace with fewer actions, and those in less extended lines than the actor ; for, as the lines that compose the Venus are simpler and more gently flowing than those that compose the Apollo, so must her movements be in like proportion. And here it may not be improper to take notice ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY. 167 of a mischief that attends copied actions on the stage; they are often confined to certain sets and numbers, which being repeated, and growing stale to the audience, become at last subject to mimickry and ridicule, which would hardly be the case if an actor were possessed of such general principles as include a knowledge of the effects of all the movements that the body is capable of. The comedian, whose business it is to imitate the actions belonging to particular characters in nature, may also find his account in the knowledge of lines ; for whatever he copies from the life, by these principles may be strengthened, altered, and adjusted as his judgment shall direct, and the part the author has given him shall require. THE END. Johnston, Printer, Lovell’s Court, St. Paul’-s. w pug ''w'JV J$* Wmmm *?&& #v#fj wh$\ ■ ^yW . w ^ ' ; i' V C 'w *’( §|j ®li iswi r i; ? . v