"There are hardly any two things more essentially different than character and caricature; nevertheless they are usually confounded and mistaken for each other, on which account this explanation is attempted.
"It has ever been allowed, that when a character is strongly marked in the living face, it may be considered as an index of the mind, to express which with any degree of justness in painting, requires the utmost efforts of a great master. Now, that which has of late years got the name of caricature, is, or ought to be, totally divested of every stroke that hath a tendency to good drawing; it may be said to be a species of lines that are produced rather by the hand of chance than of skill: for the early scrawlings of a child, which do but barely hint an idea of a human face, will always be found to be like some person or other, and will often form such a comical resemblance, as in all probability the most eminent caricatures of these times will not be able to equal with design; because their ideas of objects are so much the more perfect than children's, that they will unavoidably introduce some kind of drawing: for all the humorous effects of the fashionable manner of caricaturing chiefly depend on the surprise we are under at finding ourselves caught with any sort of similitude in objects absolutely remote in their kind. Let it be observed, the more remote in their nature, the greater is the excellence of these pieces. As a proof of this, I remember a famous caricature of a certain Italian singer, that struck at first sight, which consisted only of a straight perpendicular line, with a dot over it. As to the French word outré, it is different from the foregoing, and signifies nothing more than the exaggerated outline of a figure, all the parts of which may be in other respects a perfect and true picture of human nature. A giant or a dwarf may be called a common man outré; so any part, as a nose, or leg, made bigger or less than it ought to be, is that part outré, which is all that is to be understood by this word, injudiciously used to the prejudice of character."—See Excess, Analysis of Beauty, chap. 6.
The unfinished group of heads in the upper part of this print was added by the author in October 1764, and was intended as a further illustration of what is here said concerning character, caricature, and outré. He worked upon it the day before his death, which happened the 26th of that month.
The system which Mr. Hogarth has laboured to establish in the above inscription, and which I think the genuine system, he has not illustrated with his usual felicity in the print to which it is annexed.
It was published in 1758, and in its first state exhibited a view of the Court of Common Pleas, and portraits of the four sages who then sat on that Bench.[214] Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Willes is the principal figure; on his right hand is Sir Edward Clive, and on his left Mr. Justice Bathurst, and the Honourable William Noel.
In this state the print gave character only; for though the robes of my Lord Chief-Justice may have a shade of the outré, they in no degree approach to that caricature which the unfinished group added to the plate in 1764 was intended to display. Had the artist lived to finish them, they might have given weight to his assertions, but in their present state do not much illuminate his doctrine.
The picture, from which each of the prints considerably vary, was originally the property of Sir George Hay, and is now in the possession of Mr. Edwards.
"The charge is prepar'd; the lawyers are met;
The judges all rang'd (a terrible show!)
I go undismayed,—for death is a debt,
A debt on demand,—so take what I owe.
Then farewell, my love,—dear charmers, adieu;
Contented I die,—'tis the better for you.
Here ends all dispute the rest of our lives,
For this way at once I please all my wives."
From the third act of this very instructive and popular opera, Mr. Hogarth has selected the subject of this print. The scene is laid in Newgate, and the point of time seems to be about the fifty-third air, which is sung by the elegant and accomplished
CAPTAIN MACHEATH.
"Which way shall I turn me? how shall I decide?
Wives, the day of our death, are as fond as a bride.
One wife is too much for most husbands to hear;
But two at a time, there's no mortal can bear.
This way, and that way, and which way I will,
What would comfort the one, t'other wife would take ill.
POLLY.
"But if his own misfortunes have made him insensible to mine,—a father, sure, will be more compassionate. Dear, dear sir, sink the material evidence, and bring him off at his trial,—Polly upon her knees begs it of you.
"When my hero in court appears,
And stands arraign'd for his life,
Then think of poor Polly's tears,
For ah! poor Polly's his wife.
Like the sailor he holds up his hand,
Distress'd on the dashing wave;
To die a dry death at land
Is as bad as a wat'ry grave.
And alas, poor Polly!
Alack, and well-a-day!
Before I was in love,
Oh! every month was May.
LUCY.
"If Peachum's heart is hardened, sure you, sir, will have more compassion on a daughter: I know the evidence is in your power. How then can you be a tyrant to me?
"When he holds up his hand, arraign'd for his life,
O think of your daughter, and think I'm his wife!
What are cannons, or bombs, or clashing of swords?
For death is more certain by witnesses' words.
Then nail up their lips: that dread thunder allay;
And each month of my life will hereafter be May."
For more of Mr. Gay's moral dialogue I have not room.
In the year 1727, it was performed sixty-three nights successively, and in the year 1791 retains its primitive attractions, and is become what the Drury Lane diary styles a stock play.
That it is countenanced by the public is an apology for the managers:
"For they who live to please, must please to live;"
but that it should have the sanction of the Chamberlain is astonishing.[215]
We are told in Mr. Boswell's Johnson, that when Gay showed this opera to his patron, the late worthy Duke of Queensberry, his Grace's observation was, "This is a very odd thing, Gay; it is either a very good thing, or a very bad thing." It proved the former, beyond the warmest expectations of the author or his friends; though Quin, whose knowledge of the public taste cannot be questioned, was so doubtful of its success, that he refused to play the part of Macheath, which was therefore given to Walker. In the same volumes I learn that Dr. Johnson did not apprehend that the performance of this opera had the pernicious influence which is ascribed to it.[216] For the Doctor's talents and virtues I have a reverence bordering upon idolatry: in questions of morality he can seldom be contradicted, and without the strongest conviction that in this point he is wrong, I should tremble to dissent from his opinion; but my deductions are drawn from examples that to me are conclusive. With three instances that I had an accidental opportunity of seeing, I was very forcibly impressed. Two boys, under nineteen years of age, children of worthy and respectable parents, fled from their friends, and pursued courses that threatened an ignominious termination to their lives. After much search they were found engaged in midnight depredations, and in each of their pockets was the Beggars' Opera.
A boy of seventeen, some years since tried at the Old Bailey for what there was every reason to think his first offence, acknowledged himself so delighted with the spirited and heroic character of Macheath, that on quitting the theatre he laid out his last guinea in the purchase of a pair of pistols, and stopped a gentleman on the highway.[217]
The accumulation of similiar facts is not necessary. Those who think that lively dialogue, and natural though vulgar repartee, can atone for what gives new attractions to vice, will, I suppose, continue to sanction this performance by attending the representation. If anything could balance the baneful influence it is calculated to disseminate, Gay must be allowed the praise of having attempted to stem Italia's liquid stream, which at that time meandered through every alley, street, and square in the metropolis; the honour of having almost silenced the effeminate song of that absurd exotic, Italian opera, which a little previous to this time was the grand pursuit of the fashionable world. For to the dishonour of true taste, to the disgrace of common sense, the discords and jarrings of Cuzzoni, Faustina, and Senesino, excited as much attention, and were entered into with as much party zeal, as were the political contests between Lord Chatham and Sir Robert Walpole, or those still more recent, between Mr. Charles Fox and Mr. William Pitt.[218]
The method Gay took to rout this army of unnatural auxiliaries does great honour to his generalship. A new disorder had been imported from the Continent, and like the plague which was wont to be imported from Turkey, infected our capital. To lay an embargo upon sound was impossible; to make an echo perform quarantine, ridiculous!—he took a better mode, drew up song against sing-song, and to the soft sonnetteering stanza of Italy, opposed the nervous old ballad of Britain. He brought into the field the whole force of three kingdoms, and took his tunes from the most popular songs of the ancient bards of England, Scotland, and Wales. Britons strike home was the word; Chevy Chase led the van, was followed by a Soldier and a Sailor singing All Joy to great Cæsar, and chorussed by Shenkin of a Noble Race; when An old Woman clothed in Gray, with a Bonny Broom in her hand, swept the whole swarm of buzzing caterpillars Over the Hills and far away. Goldoni's opera, i Viaggiatori Ridicoli tornati in Italia,[219] was in a degree realized.[220]
For Italian music, William Hogarth had about as much respect as John Gay, and was therefore so well pleased with a subject which threw it into ridicule, that he not only painted it three times, but has in several of his miscellaneous prints made these senseless sounds one great object of his satire.
The picture from which this is copied was painted in the year 1729, for Mr. Rich of Covent Garden Theatre; at the sale of his effects in 1762, it was purchased by the late Duke of Leeds,[221] and is at this time (1806) in the collection of the noble peer who now bears that title. When the late Duke permitted Messrs. Boydell to copy it, the print was engraved by Mr. Blake. To these volumes is annexed an outline descriptive of the characters, which it is therefore unnecessary to enumerate in this page.[222] They afford a good example of the dresses, and what was then called the dignified manner, of the old school. That any woman should admire such a figure as Mr. Walker in Macheath, must excite a degree of astonishment; but to believe for a moment that so attractive a female as Miss Fenton would choose such an Adonis,[223] must, even in the year 1727, require a very large portion of dramatic faith. Her charms have fascinated the Duke of Bolton: his eye is fixed on her face, and his mind wholly engrossed by the contemplation of that beauty which he afterwards made his own. Mr. Rich, and Mr. Cock the auctioneer, are properly enough represented as totally inattentive to the scene. The poet immediately behind them, saturated by public approbation, pays no greater regard to the performance than is displayed by the manager. It had made Gay rich, and Rich gay, and that was sufficient.
As Hogarth was invariably faithful in delineating what he saw, I dare believe the characters are represented as they were. Considered in that point, without regard to other merit, it has quite as much value as many groups of portraits which are published in this our day, and denominated "Historical Pictures."
In the beginning of the year 1729, Hogarth painted for a Sir Archibald Grant two original pictures, "The Committee,"[224] and the "Beggars' Opera;" but though Sir Archibald paid half-price for them at the time he gave the order, I cannot positively assert that they were ever in his possession, for they afterwards got into the hands of Mr. Huggins, at the sale of whose effects the latter was purchased by Doctor Monkhouse, of Queen's College, Oxford. It has a frame with a carved bust of Gay at the top. The late Horace Lord Orford had a sketch of a scene in the same play.
As performed at Mr. Conduit's, Master of the Mint, before the Duke of Cumberland, etc.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Cortez.Cydaria.Almeria.Alibeck.
Act. IV.—Scene 4th.—A Prison.
CYDARIA.
"More cruel than the tiger o'er his spoil,
And falser than the weeping crocodile;
Can you add vanity to guilt, and take
A pride to hear the conquests which you make?
Go; publish your renown, let it be said
You have a woman, and that lov'd betray'd."
CORTEZ.
"With what injustice is my faith accused!
Life! freedom! empire! I at once refus'd;
And would again ten thousand times for you."
ALMERIA.
"She'll have too great content to find him true;
And therefore since his love is not for me,
I'll help to make my rival's misery.
Spaniard, I never thought you false before;
Can you at once two mistresses adore?
Keep the poor soul no longer in suspense,
Your change is such, it does not need defence."
The scene of Hogarth's last drama was Newgate; and in this it is a Mexican prison, where his pigmy personages are playing their little parts in one of Dryden's heroic tragedies.
That these minor performers should prefer rhyme to prose, I can readily conceive—the jingling of verse is a great help to your short memory; but that Dryden, "the great high priest of all the Nine," should so far deviate from nature and outrage common sense as thus to fetter his dramatic dialogue, is to be accounted for on no other principle than the vile taste of Charles the Second's vile Court. The play is dedicated to the most excellent and most illustrious Princess Anne, Duchess of Monmouth and Buccleuch, wife to the most illustrious and high-born James Duke of Monmouth; and by that dedication[225] appears to have been warmly patronized by the most eminent persons of wit and honour.
It is a sequel to the Indian Queen, written by Dryden and Sir Robert Howard, which was published two years before. Of this connection between the two tragedies, notice was given to the audience by printed bills distributed at the door,[226]—an expedient which the Duke of Buckingham very happily ridicules in The Rehearsal, when Bayes boasts of the number of bills he has printed, to instil into the audience some conception of his plot. By the age of the warlike William of Cumberland, I conjecture that these embryotic heroes and heroines strutted away their little hour about the year 1731; and though the play which they are enacting is beneath the blazing genius of John Dryden, it is well worthy the puny powers of these puny performers.[227] Lady Sophia Fermor, who plays the part of Almeria, in 1744 married Lord Granville, and died in 1750. The prompter was a Mr. T. Hill; and though this reverend gentleman is in rather too conspicuous a situation, he is not quite so obtrusive an object as the prompter at the Opera House. The governess playing with one of the children was Lady Deloraine. Miss Conduit, who appears as Alibeck, was daughter to Catherine, the niece of Sir Isaac Newton, and in 1740 married Lord Lymington, eldest son to John first Earl of Portsmouth.
The names and additions of three of the auditors are inserted under the small print. One of the figures has a resemblance to the courtly Lord Chesterfield. Upon the chimney-piece is the bust of Sir Isaac Newton, and it is fair to conjecture that the two framed portraits represent Mr. and Mrs. Conduit.
The figure leaning on the back of a chair is said to be intended for the Duke of Montagu; and the two in the background, for the Duke and Duchess of Richmond.
Hogarth's original painting is the property of Lord Holland.
The writer of this catalogue is now come to his last chapter, and has before him the last plate that Hogarth engraved, which is properly denominated the Finis to that great painter's works.
Of the various opinions which the numerous readers of these his volumes will form at this his conclusion, he can have no certain judgment; but fears that some of them may be thus anticipated.
The votary of comedy, who considers Hogarth as a mere burlesque painter, with whom he only wishes to laugh, will deem this book too grave; while the saturnine spirit, that looks at him as a mere sermonic moralist, will say it is not grave enough. The man who supposes that every character was individual, and expects the scandalous chronicle of those who were satirized by the artist, will probably complain that there is too little anecdote; while he that considers this as a frivolous, gossiping, and anecdotish age, will say there is too much.
Some will observe that these volumes are too long, and in the style of a tired mariner, exult that they see land. In this their exultation the writer most sincerely participates, but at the same time acknowledges (so predominant is vanity) that he trusts there are who would not regret if the work were still longer, who will correct what they find erroneous without triumphing in their superior sagacity, and candidly forgive the writer's weakness without too much glorying in their own strength.
From the pedantic and quizzical connoisseur I expect no mercy, but suppose that the book and the writer will be arraigned and condemned in manner and form following:—
"I took up these volumes with the expectation of seeing all the characters that Hogarth introduced determined, and all his variations recorded. With respect to the characters, some are mistaken, and others are omitted; and as to the variations, few are noticed.[228] Concerning a multitude of invaluable prints, which have singly produced three times as much as the volume of his prints in their present state sells for, there is not even a catalogue; there are many pages of extraneous matter, which I had not patience to read; every iota of Hogarth I understood without the assistance of this book."
With all possible humility the author declareth, that for your use or benefit he did not compile it.
"Laugh where you may, be candid where you can."
That you may know some of the characters of which the writer is ignorant, he willingly acknowledges; that you may guess at many, where he sees no ground for conjecture, he cheerfully admits; and that both you and himself are very frequently mistaken, he firmly believes.
The prints are described as they are copied from the present state of the plates, and the material alterations incidentally noticed. However great the merit of the tankards and teapots, the waiters and coats of arms, to reduce them did not come into the present plan; to commemorate them was unnecessary.[229] The author of these volumes, from the day he has written man, inspected the works of Hogarth with delight, but was not fully conscious of their superlative merit until the compilation of these remarks, in the progress of which his duty to the public obliged him to examine their design, and endeavour to illustrate their tendency. In this he has engaged with the consciousness that there would be error,—which to such a work is necessarily attached.
To those readers who are not too fastidious to peruse it with this allowance, or who have not hitherto looked at Hogarth with the attention he merits, it is addressed. If it impels them to more minute inspection of his works, the purpose is answered.
Yes, great and unrivalled genius! every contemplation of thy works must be succeeded by admiration!
Inscribed to the dealers in dark pictures.
In five compartments beneath the title are the following inscriptions:—
In the dexter corner is a pyramidical shell inscribed: "The conic form in which the Goddess of Beauty was worshipped by the ancients at Paphos in the Island of Cyprus. See the medal struck when a Roman emperor visited the temple."
"Simulacrum Deæ non effigie humana, continuus orbis latiori initio tenuem in ambitum meta modo, exsurgens et ratio in obscuro."—Tacit. Hist. lib. 2.
In the sinister corner is a white pyramid, round which is twisted the favourite serpentine line inscribed:—
"A copy of the precise line of Beauty, as it is represented on the first explanatory plate of the 'Analysis of Beauty.'"
"Venus a Paphiis colitur, cujus simulacrum nulli rei magis assimile, quam albæ Pyramidi."—Maximus Tyrius, Ann. 157.
"Note.—The similarity of these two conic figures did not occur to the author till two or three years after the publication of the Analysis in 1754."
Thus conclude the inscriptions. We will next inquire into the motives by which the artist was actuated, and the subjects he has intended to satirize in this his concluding enigmatical and pun-ical print.
The labours of this great painter to the passions are now at an end; and this is the last page of his eventful and instructive histories. Those which he had formed into a series, added to the single prints, portraits, etc., had become so numerous as to form a large volume. A concluding plate seemed necessary; and we are told that, a few months before he was seized with that malady which deprived society of one of its greatest ornaments, he had in contemplation a last engraving. After a dinner with a few social friends at his own table, enjoying
"The feast of reason, and the flow of soul,"
the board crowned with wine, and each glass circulating convivial cheerfulness, he was asked, "What will be the subject of your next print?" "The end of all things!" was his reply. "If that should be the case," added one of his friends, "your business will be finished, for there will be an end of the painter." With a look that conveyed a consciousness of approaching dissolution, and a deep sigh, he answered, "There will so; and therefore, the sooner my work is done the better." With this impulse he next day began this plate, and seeming to consider it as a terminus to his fame, never turned to the right or left until he arrived at the end of his journey.
The aim of this Omega to his own alphabet was twofold; to bring together every object which denoted the end of time, and throw a ridicule upon the bathos and profundity of the ancient masters.
That the bathos is not confined to the poet, but hath at sundry times and in divers manners been of sovereign use to the painter, I am well convinced. My opinion was originally formed upon the inspection of many ancient and modern pictures, innumerable volumes of ancient and modern prints, and an annual attendance at the Royal Exhibition: it was confirmed by the perusal of some papers on the arts, which came into my possession by one of those fortunate accidents that happen to few men above once in their lives. Walking some years ago through Harp Alley, I observed a porter carrying an old trunk without a cover, in which was a little picture in a broad and deep ebony frame, a few mutilated pamphlets, a parcel of prints, and an old manuscript volume bound in vellum. He laid down his load at a broker's shop; I inspected it, and seeing the book inscribed "Mart. Scrib.," purchased the whole lot, took a hackney coach, and joyfully conveyed my prize home. Eagerly inspecting the contents, I found the picture was Dutch, and turned to a tint sombre as the frame: by the help of clear water I brought out the colours, and—
"Oh! Jephtha, judge of Israel,—what a treasure!"
To have painted it, must have been the labour of a long life. Such a green stall!—such a cabbage!—a cauliflower!—a string of Spanish onions!—a bunch of carrots!—a lobster!—a brass kettle!—and a sunflower!—I never beheld before. So clear! transparent! vivid!—It was forcible as Rembrandt! brilliant as Rubens!—and for finishing—the most accurate works of Denner!—the most delicate pencilling of the Chevalier Vanderweff!—compared with this charming tableau, would appear hasty sketches.
The pamphlets were German, and touched of the transmutation of metals; to discover which, who can calculate the loads of charcoal that have been burnt, the retorts that have been burst, or the heads that have been turned? That this grand arcanum of nature will at some future day be revealed, I have no doubt; and there is little reason to fear but the benefit of the discovery will be reaped by this island;—because, Britain is highly favoured by the gods; and several great calculators have clearly proved, that without some such miraculous assistance, Britain must be undone by her enormous national debt.
The prints were Flemish; but these subjects are foreign to my manuscript. First craving pardon for the digression, to that I proceed.
By time[232] it was turned to the colour of old parchment, but that it was written by the righte cunnynge hand of Martinus Scriblerus there can be little doubt.
When he sent some literary memoranda to Arbuthnot,[233] he recommended to the Doctor "the recovery of others which lay straggling about the world."[234]
Let it be also remembered, that though this prodigy of science presented to our English Cervantes numerous tracts, he might not think the Doctor would have a proper value for those on painting. That Martinus was a competent judge of the fine arts, is proved by his fifth chapter on Sinking in Poetry. Now as the family of the Scribleri, with all their alliances and collateral relations, have time immemorial been distinguished for the cacoëthes scribendi of whatever he was a judge, certes he would write, and that which he hath written I have happily preserved. A few extracts[235] which I have inserted will give a general idea of the whole, which is entitled, The Art of Sinking in Painting; and is thus introduced in the Prolegomena:—
"Great and manifold have been the benefits (my dear countryman) which poesy hath derived from that innumerable army of critics and commentators, who fabricated fences to keep her in bounds, and bore blazing torches to irradiate her path. Lamentable is it to consider how few lights have been held out to her sister art; who, notwithstanding an equal or prior claim, hath been suffered to wander through her dreary night with no other illumination than the glow-worm on the bank, or the ignis fatuus in the ditches. For the use and service of the poet there is an ocean of commentary; while the painter hath no other stream in which to slake his thirst for instruction than that which creeps among the weeds in the meadow, or gurgles over the pebbles in the valley.
"From intense application to the mysterious tablets of my great ancestors, for ages professors of astrology and chemistry in the universities of Germany, I am empowered to see by anticipation.
"For me it is decreed to strike the rock of nature with the rod of science, and liberate the fountain of truth, whose waters shall fertilize this ungenial isle. Ye whose well-poised pinions enable you to soar above this our terrestrial globe, and dip your pencils in the rainbow! come and contemplate the magic mirror of Martinus Scriblerus.
"Conscious am I that this our divine muse, who hath not unaptly been styled journeywoman to Nature, is now in a profound sleep; but in the coming century she shall awake from her trance, shake the dust from her many-coloured mantle, and dazzle the surrounding nations. Blest with the power of penetrating the cloud of time, which is impervious to vulgar sight, I see, as in a vision, the wonders of another age; and should these my lucubrations be neglected by my contemporaries, happy am I in the confidence that by their posterity they will be properly estimated, and sought for as were the Sibyl's leaves, regarded as the oracles of Apollo, and considered as the touchstone of true taste. To the age of whom they are worthy, and who are worthy of them, I dedicate these my labours.
"The few who have written upon the fine arts have endeavoured to inculcate simplicity of action, anatomical correctness, symmetry of parts, harmony of colouring, easy folding of drapery, and due attention to the grouping of figures. These rules can only be classed among the idle dreams of visionary speculation; resign yourselves unto my guidance, and listen unto the lessons of truth.
"In every animal there is an original instinct, tending towards that for which it was by nature designed. In man, there is a natural bias to the bathos; but he must be instructed, or rather compelled into any relish or taste for what is denominated the sublime.
"To prove this my position, show a collection of drawings or paintings to a child: it will be irresistibly attracted by glittering colours, forced expressions, and grotesque, or what are commonly called caricatured countenances. Let the savage, who is not vitiated by idle rules, and has never seen painted canvas, be taken into a picture-gallery,—his natural taste will lead him to similar objects. What the artists call a quiet picture, he will quietly pass; but let the figures be crowded, the attitudes extravagant, and the colours gaudy,—his attention and admiration are ensured.
"These facts being admitted, and they cannot be denied, why should we not take the genuine undebauched disposition of man in his original state of simplicity, as a better criterion of truth than that ideal nature which hath misled many painters and writers; of whose fantastic dogmas I cannot too strongly caution you to beware. Should you, in the course of your early studies, have contracted any of this ancient ærugo,—it is corrosive,—consider it as the dross of science, and scatter it in the air, for with my precepts it cannot coalesce. Ideal beauty is a childish absurdity. Painting is, or ought to be, an imitation of nature; and that can never be a good picture which representeth things that never did or can exist."
After many more pages to the same purport, this great philosopher divideth his subject. The table of contents to a few of his chapters, which will give a general idea of his plan, is hereunto annexed:—
"Chap. 1.—Of the Story.
"The principal character in your piece should be an illustrious person; but as great men may sometimes, for their recreation and diversion, or worse purposes, be taken up in mean and trivial matters, in such situations, it is proved from many right worthy examples, they may and ought to be delineated. The Emperor Domitian should be represented killing flies; Nero, playing upon the fiddle; Julius Cæsar, kicking a football; and Commodus, at a bull-baiting.
"Chap. 2.—Relateth unto the Allegory.
"To raise an historical picture above vulgar expression, it should be seasoned with allegory, and elevated with metaphorical allusions and figures.
"Chap. 3.—Of the Time.
"In this there should be variety; and if your story have not a sufficient number of great and famous persons to render it important and interesting, you may embellish it with such portraitures as suit your purpose. Their not having lived in the same age or nation is of little import.
"Chap. 4.—Of the Machinery.
"The machinery, id est, the celestial and infernal powers, must be brought into your picture on every great or difficult occasion. This will not only give your delineation a classical and learned air, but account for any wonderful action which the world might think your hero could not perform without supernatural assistance.
"Chap. 5.—Treateth of the Episode.
"To vary the pleasure of the spectator, an historical picture should be diversified with an episode; especial care being taken that it have no congruity with the main subject; for the name deriveth from that which is superadded to the original plan, and ought no more to appear a part of it than an insect appeareth as a part of the animal unto which it adhereth.
"Chap. 6.—Describeth the nature and end of the Hyperbola, or Impossible.
"This image is of eminent use in giving a cast of grandeur and greatness to what would, without it, appear trivial and mean. It excites astonishment; and the majority of mankind being most delighted with that which is most marvellous, is a good and sufficient cause for your works being well strewed with wonders."
For the contents of eighteen succeeding chapters, treating of the cumbrous, the inflated, the glittering, the infantine, the pun-ical, the vulgar, and sundry other styles, I have not room, but quitting the bathos of Martinus Scriblerus, must proceed unto that of William Hogarth.
It is well worthy of the title, for a more heterogeneous compound of ludicrous and serious objects was never displayed in one print.
Some of his images the artist has gleaned from the common field of the poor company of punsters, and for others hath soared into the lofty regions of mythological allegory. He ascends from an inch of candle setting fire to a print, to the chariot of the sun, which, with Apollo Pæan and his three fiery coursers, sinks into endless night. Mounts from the cobbler's end, twisted round a wooden last, to the world's end, elegantly exemplified by a bursting globe on an alehouse sign. He has contrasted the worn-out brush with the broken crown; and opposed to the empty purse a commission of bankrupt, which, sanctioned with the great seal of a hero upon a white horse, is issued and awarded against Nature,—by Heaven knows who! He has joined the huge cracked bell of the cathedral to the broken bottle of the tavern; and set in opposition to the mutilated column and capital of Ionia, the rope's end of a man-of-war. The bow which, drawn by the old English archer, gave force fraught with death to the barbed arrow, is unstrung and broken. The mutilated firelock, divested of its tube, shall no more thin the ranks of contending armies. The tottering tower, funeral yew, death's head, cross-bones, and "Hic jacet" of a country churchyard, are opposed by the hard-worn besom, blighted oaks, falling sign-post, and unthatched cottage. In what painters call the sky, we have not only the son of Latona, but Luna in a veil: in the distance a ship is sinking into the bed of the ocean, and a gibbet is erected on the shore; to this, in conformity with the wise institutions of our polished ancestors, and for the luxury of those strong-beaked birds that feast their young with blood,—a lord of the creation is suspended.[236] Once,—
"On our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
Stole, ere we could effect them."
Now,—his scythe, tube, and hour-glass being broken, his progress is ended! his sinews are unstrung! his hour of dissolution arrived!—and with those five capital letters that have concluded the labours of so many learned authors, and which conjoined form the word FINIS,—