A. The perspective line of the door.
B. The end of the Serjeant's pike, who is gone in.
C. The end of the Dog's tail, who is following him.
There are similar whims of the Caracci.

A specimen of Hogarth's propensity to merriment, on the most trivial occasions, is observable in one of his cards requesting the company of Dr. Arnold King to dine with him at the Mitre.[46] Within a circle, to which a knife and fork are the supporters, the written part is contained. In the center is drawn a pye, with a mitre on the top of it; and the invitation of our artist concludes with the following sport on three of the Greek letters—to Eta Beta Pi.[47] The rest of the inscription is not very accurately spelt. A quibble by Hogarth is surely as respectable as a conundrum by Swift.

"Some nicer virtuosi have remarked, that in the serious pieces, into which Hogarth has deviated from the natural biass of his genius, there are some strokes of the ridiculous discernible, which suit not with the dignity of his subject. In his preaching of St. Paul, a dog snarling at a cat;[48] and in his Pharaoh's Daughter, the figure of the infant Moses, who expresses rather archness than timidity; are alledged as instances, that this artist, unrivalled in his own walk, could not resist the impulse of his imagination towards drollery. His picture, however, of Richard III. is pure and unmixed, without any ridiculous circumstances, and strongly impresses terror and amazement." As these observations are extracted from the first edition of Dr. Warton's "Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope," it would be uncandid if we did not accompany them with the following note from a subsequent edition of that valuable performance: "The author gladly lays hold of the opportunity of this third edition of his work to confess a mistake he had committed with respect to two admirable paintings of Mr. Hogarth, his Paul Preaching, and his Infant Moses; which, on a closer examination, are not chargeable with the blemishes imputed to them. Justice obliges him to declare the high opinion he entertains of the abilities of this inimitable artist, who shines in so many different lights, and on such very dissimilar subjects; and whose works have more of what the ancients called the ΗθΟΣ [Greek: Ethos] in them, than the compositions of any other Modern. For the rest, the author begs leave to add, that he is so far from being ashamed of retracting his error, that he had rather appear a Man of Candour, than the best Critic that ever lived."[49]

In one of the early exhibitions at Spring Gardens, a very pleasing small picture by Hogarth made its first appearance. It was painted for the earl of Charlemont, in whose collection it remains.[50] It was intituled, Picquet, or Virtue in Danger, and shews us a young lady, who, during a tête-à-tête, had just lost all her money to a handsome officer of her own age. He is represented in the act of returning her a handful of bank bills, with the hope of exchanging them for a softer acquisition, and more delicate plunder. On the chimney piece is a watch-case and a figure of Time over it, with this motto—NUNC. Hogarth has caught his heroine during this moment of hesitation, this struggle with herself, and has marked her feelings with uncommon success. Wavering chastity, as in this instance, he was qualified to display; but the graceful reserve of steady and exalted virtue he would certainly have failed to express. He might have conveyed a perfect idea of such an Iphigenia as is described by Mr. Hayley, in one of the cantoes of his beautiful poem on the Triumphs of Temper; but the dignity of the same female at the Tauric altar would have baffled the most vigorous efforts of his pencil.

Hogarth's Picquet, or Virtue in Danger, when exhibited at Spring Gardens, in May, 1761, produced the following explanation:

Ye fair, be warn'd, and shun those arts,
That faithless men do use for hearts:
Weigh o'er and o'er the destin'd man,
And oft this little lesson scan;
If he his character don't fear,
For yours he'll very little care:
With scorn repulse the wretch so bold,
Nor pawn your virtue for his gold!
Of gaming (cards or not) beware,
'Tis very often found a snare;
But, lest my precept still should fail,
Indulge me—whilst I tell a tale:

Dorinda, chearful, young, and gay,
Oft shone at Balls, at Park, and Play;
Blest with a free, engaging air,
In short, throughout quite debonnair;
(Excuse me—shall I tell the truth?)
That bane of misled, heedless youth,
Gaming—had quite possess'd her mind,
To this (no other vice) inclin'd:
She oft would melancholy sit,
No partner near for dear Picquet!
"At last a cruel spoiler came,"
And deeply learn'd in all the game;
A son of Mars, with iron face,
Adorn'd with impudence and lace!
Acquaintance with her soon he gains,
He thinks her virtue worth his pains:
Cards (after nonsense) came in course,
By sap advances, not by force.
The table set, the cards are laid,
Dorinda dreams not she's betray'd;
The cards run cross, she fumes and frets,
Her brilliant necklace soon she betts,
She fears her watch, but can't resist,
A miniature can scarce be mist!
At last both watch and trinkets go,
A prey to the devouring foe:
Nay more (if fame but tells us true),
She lost her di'mond buckles too!
Her bracelets next became his prize,
And in his hat the treasure lies.
Upon her Virtue next he treats,
And Honour's sacred name repeats:
Tenders the trinkets, swears and lies,
And vows her person is a prize!
Then swears (with hand upon his breast)
That he without her can't be blest!
Then plies her with redoubled pains,
T' exchange her virtue for his gains:
Shame's purple wings o'ershade her face,
He triumphs over her disgrace;
Soon turns to jest her scruples nice,
In short, she falls!—a sacrifice!
Spoil'd of her virtue in her prime,
And, knowing Heaven detests the crime,
Is urg'd, perhaps, to dare his rod,
"And rush unsummon'd to her God!"

Ye fair, if happiness ye prize,
Regard this rule, Be timely wise.

In the "Miser's Feast," Mr. Hogarth thought proper to pillory Sir Isaac Shard, a gentleman proverbially avaricious. Hearing this, the son of Sir Isaac, the late Isaac Pacatus Shard,[51] esq. a young man of spirit, just returned from his travels, called at the painter's to see the picture; and, among the rest, asking the Cicerone "whether that odd figure was intended for any particular person;" on his replying, "that it was thought to be very like one Sir Isaac Shard;" he immediately drew his sword, and slashed the canvas. Hogarth appeared instantly in great wrath; to whom Mr. Shard calmly justified what he had done, saying, "that this was a very unwarrantable licence; that he was the injured party's son, and that he was ready to defend any suit at law;" which, however, was never instituted.

About 1757, his brother-in-law, Mr. Thornhill, resigned the place of king's serjeant-painter in favour of Mr. Hogarth; who soon after made an experiment in painting, which involved him in some disgrace. The celebrated collection of pictures belonging to Sir Luke Schaub was in 1758 sold by public auction;[52] and the admired picture of Sigismunda (purchased by Sir Thomas Sebright for 404. l. 5 s.) excited Mr. Hogarth's emulation.

"From a contempt of the ignorant virtuosi of the age," says Mr. Walpole, "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, 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, as is true, that time gives a mellowness to colours 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 proportion 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 Sigismunda of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the possession of the Duke of Newcastle, said to be painted by Correggio, probably by Furino, but no matter by whom. It is impossible to see the picture, or read Dryden's inimitable tale, and not feel that the same soul animated both. After many essays, Hogarth at last produced HIS Sigismunda—but no more like Sigismunda, than I to Hercules. Not to mention the wretchedness of the colouring, it was the representation of a maudlin strumpet just turned out of keeping, and, with eyes red with rage and usquebaugh, tearing off the ornaments her keeper had given her. To add to the disgust raised by such vulgar expression, her fingers were bloodied by her lover's heart,[53] that lay before her, like that of a sheep, for her dinner.[54] 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 sternly felt, and yet so tenderly. Hogarth's performance was more ridiculous than any thing he had ever ridiculed. He set the price of 400 l. 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. I make no more apology for this account than for the encomiums I have bestowed on him. Both are dictated by truth, and are the history of a great man's excellencies and errors. Milton, it is said, preferred his Paradise Regained to his immortal poem."[55]

Hogarth, however, gave directions before his death that the Sigismunda should not be sold under 500 l. and, greatly as he might have been mortified by Churchill's invective, and the coldness with which the picture was received by the rest of the world,[56] he never wholly abandoned his design of having a plate prepared from it. Finding abundant consolation in the flattery of self-love, he appealed from the public judgement to his own, and had actually talked with the celebrated Mr. Hall about the price of the engraving, which was to have been executed from a smaller painting,[57] copied by himself from the large one. Death alone secured him from the contempt such obstinacy would have riveted on his name. To express a sorrow like that of Tancred's daughter, few modern artists are fully qualified. We must except indeed Sir Joshua Reynolds, with whose pencil Beauty in all her forms, and the passions in all their varieties, are equally familiar.

Since the preceding paragraph was written, the compiler of this volume has seen an unfinished plate of Sigismunda, attempted after the manner of Edelinck, etched by Mr. Basire, but not bit-in, and from which consequently no proof can have been taken. The size of the plate is 18 inches by 16½. The outlines in general, and particularly of the face, were completed under the immediate direction of Mr. Hogarth.[58] It was intended to be published by subscription.[59] The plate itself is still in the hands of Mr. Basire.

This unfortunate picture, which was the source of so much vexation to Mr. Hogarth, at least made a versifier of him, and furnished vent to his anger in the following lines; which, as I know of no other specimen of his poetry,[60] may serve to gratify the curiosity of the reader. The old adage facit indignatio versum, seems scarcely to have been realised in this splenetic effusion, which is intituled "An Epistle to a Friend," occasioned by Sir Richard Grosvenor (now lord) returning the picture of Sigismunda on our artist's hands:

"To your charge, the other day
About my picture and my pay,
In metre I've a mind to try,
One word by way of a reply.

"To risque, you'll own, 'twas most absurd,
Such labour on a rich man's word;
To lose at least an hundred days
Of certain gain, for doubtful praise;
Since living artists ne'er were paid;
But then, you know, it was agreed,
I should be deem'd an artist dead.
Like Raphael, Rubens, Guido Rene,
This promise fairly drew me in;
And having laid my pencil by,[61]
What painter was more dead than I?
But dead as Guido let me be,
Then judge, my friend, 'twixt him and me
If merit crowns alike the piece,
What treason to be like in price;
Because no copied line you trace,
The picture can't be right, you're sure;
But say, my critic connoisseur,
Moves it the heart as much or more
Than picture ever did before?
This is the painter's truest test,
And this Sir Richard's self confess'd.
Nay, 'tis so moving, that the knight
Can't even bear it in his sight;
Then who would tears so dearly buy,
As give four hundred pounds to cry?
I own, he chose the prudent part,
Rather to break his word than heart;
And yet, methinks, 'tis ticklish dealing,
With one so delicate—in feeling.

"However, let the picture rust,
Perhaps time's price-enhancing dust,
As statues moulder into earth,
When I'm no more, may mark its worth;
And future connoisseurs may rise,
Honest as ours, and full as wise,
To puff the piece and painter too,
And make me then what Guido's now."

"The last memorable event in our artist's life," as Mr. Walpole observes, "was his quarrel with Mr. Wilkes, in which, if Mr. Hogarth did not commence direct hostilities on the latter, he at least obliquely gave the first offence, by an attack on the friends and party of that gentleman. This conduct was the more surprizing, as he had all his life avoided dipping his pencil in political contests, and had early refused a very lucrative offer that was made to engage him in a set of prints against the head of a court-party. Without entering into the merits of the cause, I shall only state the fact. In September 1762, Mr. Hogarth published his print of The Times. It was answered by Mr. Wilkes in a severe North Briton.[62] On this the painter exhibited the caricatura of the writer. Mr. Churchill, the poet, then engaged in the war, and wrote his epistle to Hogarth, not the brightest of his works,[63] in which the severest strokes fell on a defect that the painter had neither caused nor could amend—his age;[64] and which, however, was neither remarkable nor decrepit; much less had it impaired his talents, as appeared by his having composed but six months before one of his most capital works, the satire on the Methodists. In revenge for this epistle, Hogarth caricatured Churchill, under the form of a canonical bear, with a club and a pot of porter—et vitulá tu dignus & hic—never did two angry men of their abilities throw mud with less dexterity."

The concluding observation of Mr. Walpole is mortifyingly true. It may be amusing to compare the account given of this squabble, which long engrossed the attention of the town, with the narrative of it printed by Mr. Wilkes; who states the circumstances of it in the following manner:

"Mr. Hogarth was one of the first who, in the paper war begun by lord Bute on his accession to the Treasury, sacrificed private friendship at the altar of party madness. In 1762, the Scotch minister took a variety of hirelings into his pay, some of whom were gratified with pensions, others with places and pensions. Mr. Hogarth was only made serjeant-painter to his majesty, as if it was meant to insinuate to him, that he was not allowed to paint any thing but the wainscot of the royal apartments. The term means no more than house-painter, and the nature of the post confined him to that business. He was not employed in any other way. A circumstance can scarcely be imagined more humiliating to a man of spirit and genius, who really thought that he more particularly excelled in portrait-painting.

"The new minister had been attacked in a variety of political papers. The North Briton in particular, which commenced the week after The Briton, waged open war with him. Some of the numbers had been ascribed to Mr. Wilkes, others to Mr. Churchill, and Mr. Lloyd. Mr. Hogarth had for several years lived on terms of friendship and intimacy with Mr. Churchill and Mr. Wilkes. As the Buckinghamshire militia, which this gentleman had the honour of commanding, had been for some months at Winchester guarding the French prisoners, the Colonel was there on that duty. A friend wrote to him, that Mr. Hogarth intended soon to publish a political print of The Times, in which Mr. Pitt, Lord Temple, Mr. Churchill, and himself, were held out to the public as objects of ridicule. Mr. Wilkes, on this notice, remonstrated by two of their common friends to Mr. Hogarth, that such a proceeding would not only be unfriendly in the highest degree, but extremely injudicious; for such a pencil ought to be universal and moral, to speak to all ages, and to all nations, not to be dipt in the dirt of the faction of a day, of an insignificant part of the country, when it might command the admiration of the whole. An answer was sent, that neither Mr. Wilkes nor Mr. Churchill were attacked in The Times, though Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt were, and that the print should soon appear. A second message soon after told Mr. Hogarth, that Mr. Wilkes should never believe it worth his while to take notice of any reflections on himself; but if his friends were attacked, he should then think he was wounded in the most sensible part, and would, as well as he was able, revenge their cause; adding, that if he thought the North Briton would insert what he sent, he would make an appeal to the public on the very Saturday following the publication of the print. The Times soon after appeared, and on the Saturday following [Sept. 25, 1762,] N° 17, of the North Briton, which is a direct attack on the king's serjeant-painter.[65] If Mr. Wilkes did write that paper, he kept his word better with Mr. Hogarth, than the painter had done with him.

"It is perhaps worth remarking, that the painter proposed to give a series of political prints, and that The Times were marked Plate I. No farther progress was however made in that design. The public beheld the first feeble efforts with execrations, and it is said that the caricaturist was too much hurt by the general opinion of mankind, to possess himself afterwards sufficiently for the execution of such a work.

"When Mr. Wilkes was the second time brought from the Tower to Westminster-hall, Mr. Hogarth skulked behind in a corner of the gallery of the Court of Common Pleas; and while the Chief Justice Pratt,[66] with the eloquence and courage of old Rome, was enforcing the great principles of Magna Charta, and the English constitution, while every breast from him caught the holy flame of liberty, the painter was wholly employed in caricaturing the person of the man; while all the rest of his fellow citizens were animated in his cause, for they knew it to be their own cause, that of their country, and of its laws. It was declared to be so a few hours after by the unanimous sentence of the judges of that court, and they were all present.

"The print of Mr. Wilkes was soon after published, drawn from the life by William Hogarth. It must be allowed to be an excellent compound caricatura, or a caricatura of what nature had already caricatured. I know but one short apology can be made for this gentleman, or, to speak more properly, for the person of Mr. Wilkes. It is, that he did not make himself, and that he never was solicitous about the case of his soul, as Shakspeare calls it, only so far as to keep it clean and in health. I never heard that he once hung over the glassy stream, like another Narcissus, admiring the image in it, nor that he ever stole an amorous look at his counterfeit in a side mirrour. His form, such as it is, ought to give him no pain, because it is capable of giving pleasure to others. I fancy he finds himself tolerably happy in the clay-cottage, to which he is tenant for life, because he has learnt to keep it in good order. While the share of health and animal spirits, which heaven has given him, shall hold out, I can scarcely imagine he will be one moment peevish about the outside of so precarious, so temporary a habitation, or will even be brought to own, ingenium Galbæ male habitat. Monsieur est mal logé.

"Mr. Churchill was exasperated at this personal attack on his friend. He soon after published the Epistle to William Hogarth,[67] and took for the motto, ut pictura poesis. Mr. Hogarth's revenge against the poet terminated in vamping up an old print of a pug-dog and a bear, which he published under the title of The Bruiser C. Churchill (once the Revd.!) in the character of a Russian Hercules, &c."

The Editor of the Monthly Review for November, 1769, in an account of Mr. Wilkes's correspondence, remarks, "The writer of this article had in substance the same relation from the mouth of Mr. Hogarth himself, but a very little while before his death;[68] and the leading facts appeared, from his candid representation, in nearly the same light as in this account which our readers have been just perusing."

I have been assured by the friend[69] who first carried and read the invective of Churchill to Hogarth, that he seemed quite insensible to the most sarcastical parts of it. He was so thoroughly wounded before by the North Briton, especially with regard to what related to domestic happiness, that he lay no where open to a fresh stroke. Some readers, however, may entertain a doubt on this subject. A man feels most exquisitely when the merit of which he is proudest is denied him; and it might be urged, that Hogarth was more solicitous to maintain the character of a good painter, than of a tender husband.

One quotation, however, from Churchill's Epistle the warmest admirers of our matchless artist must be pleased with:

"In walks of humour, in that cast of style,
Which, probing to the quick, yet makes us smile;
In Comedy, his natural road to fame,
Nor let me call it by a meaner name,
Where a beginning, middle, and an end,
Are aptly join'd; where parts on parts depend,
Each made for each, as bodies for their soul,
So as to form one true and perfect whole,
Where a plain story to the eye is told,
Which we conceive the moment we behold;[70]
Hogarth unrival'd stands, and shall engage
Unrival'd praise to the most distant age."

Hogarth having been said to be in his dotage when, he produced his print of the Bear, it should seem as if he had been provoked to make the following additions to this print, in order to give a further specimen of his still existing genius.

In the form of a framed picture on the painter's palette, he has represented an Egyptian pyramid, on the side of which is a Cheshire cheese,[71] and round it 3000 l. per annum; and at the foot a Roman Veteran in a reclining posture, designed as an allusion to Mr. Pitt's resignation. The cheese is meant to allude to a former speech of his, wherein he said that he would rather subsist a week on a Cheshire cheese and a shoulder of mutton, than submit to the implacable enemies of his country.

But to ridicule this character still more, he is, as he lies down, firing a piece of ordnance at the standard of Britain, on which is a dove with an olive-branch, the emblem of peace. On one side of the pyramid is the City of London, represented by the figure of one of the Guildhall giants, going to crown the reclining hero. On the other side is the king of Prussia, in the character of one of the Cæsars, but smoking his pipe. In the center stands Hogarth himself, whipping a Dancing Bear (Churchill) which he holds in a string. At the side of the Bear is a Monkey, designed for Mr. Wilkes. Between the legs of the little animal is a mop-stick, on which he seems to ride, as children do on a hobby-horse: at the top of the mop-stick is the cap of liberty. The Monkey is undergoing the same discipline as the Bear. Behind the Monkey is the figure of a man, but with no lineaments of face, and playing on a fiddle. This was designed for Earl Temple.

At the time these hostilities were carrying on in a manner so virulent and disgraceful to all the parties, Hogarth was visibly declining in his health. In 1762, he complained of an inward pain, which, continuing, brought on a general decay that proved incurable.[72] This last year of his life he employed in retouching his plates with the assistance of several engravers whom he took with him to Chiswick. On the 25th of October, 1764, he was conveyed from thence to Leicester-fields, in a very weak condition, yet remarkably chearful; and, receiving an agreeable letter from the American Dr. Franklin, drew up a rough draught of an answer to it; but going to bed, he was seized with a vomiting, upon which he rung his bell with such violence that he broke it, and expired about two hours afterwards in the arms of Mrs. Mary Lewis, who was called up on his being taken suddenly ill. To this lady, for her faithful services, he bequeathed 100 l. After the death of Hogarth's sister, Mrs. Lewis succeeded to the care of his prints; and, without violation of truth, it may be observed, that her good nature and affability recommend these performances which she continues to dispose of at Mrs. Hogarth's house in Leicester-square. Before our artist went to bed, he boasted of having eaten a pound of beef-steaks for his dinner,[73] and was to all appearance heartier than he had been for a long time before. His disorder was an aneurism; and his corpse was interred in the church-yard at Chiswick, where a monument is erected to his memory, with this inscription, under his family arms:

"Here lieth the body
Of William Hogarth, Esq.
Who died October the 26th, 1764;
Aged 67 years."

On another side, which is ornamented with a masque, a laurel wreath, a palette, pencils, and a book, inscribed "Analysis of Beauty," are the following verses by his friend Mr. Garrick:

"Farewell, great painter of mankind,
Who reach'd the noblest point of art;
Whose pictur'd morals charm the mind,
And through the eye correct the heart.
If genius fire thee, reader, stay,
If nature touch thee, drop a tear;
If neither move thee, turn away,
For Hogarth's honoured dust lies here."

On a third side is this inscription:

"Here lieth the body
Of Dame Judith Thornhill,
Relict of Sir James Thornhill, knight,
Of Thornhill in the county of Dorset.
She died November the 12th, 1757,
Aged 84 years."

And on the fourth side:

"Here lieth the body
Of Mrs. Anne Hogarth, sister
to William Hogarth, Esq.
She died August the 13th, 1771,
Aged 70 years."

Mr. Hayley, in his justly admired Epistle to an Eminent Painter (Mr. Romney), has since expressed himself concerning our artist in terms that confer yet higher honours on his comic excellence:

"Nor, if her favour'd hand may hope to shed
The flowers of glory o'er the skilful dead,
Thy talents, Hogarth! will she leave unsung;
Charm of all eyes, and Theme of every tongue!
A separate province 'twas thy praise to rule;
Self-form'd thy Pencil! yet thy works a School,
Where strongly painted, in gradations nice,
The Pomp of Folly, and the Shame of Vice,
Reach'd thro' the laughing Eye the mended Mind,
And moral Humour sportive Art refin'd.
While fleeting Manners, as minutely shown
As the clear prospect on the mirror thrown;
While Truth of Character, exactly hit,
And drest in all the dyes of comic wit;
While these, in Fielding's page, delights supply,
So long thy Pencil with his Pen shall vie.
Science with grief beheld thy drooping age
Fall the sad victim of a Poet's rage:
But Wit's vindictive spleen, that mocks controul,
Nature's high tax on luxury of soul!
This, both in Bards and Painters, Fame forgives
Their Frailty's buried, but their Genius lives."

Thus far the encomiast, who seeks only for opportunities of bestowing praise. A more impartial narrative will be expected from the biographer.

It may be truly observed of Hogarth, that all his powers of delighting were restrained to his pencil.[74] Having rarely been admitted into polite circles, none of his sharp corners had been rubbed off, so that he continued to the last a gross uncultivated man. The slightest contradiction transported him into rage. To be member of a Club consisting of mechanics, or those not many removes above them, seems to have been the utmost of his social ambition; but even in these assemblies he was oftener sent to Coventry for misbehaviour, than any other person who frequented them. To some confidence in himself he was certainly entitled; for, as a comic painter, he could have claimed no honour that would not most readily have been allowed him;[75] but he was at once unprincipled and variable in his political conduct and attachments. He is also said to have beheld the rising eminence and popularity of Sir Joshua Reynolds with a degree of envy; and, if I am not misinformed, frequently spoke with asperity both of him and his performances. Justice, however, obliges me to add, that our artist was liberal, hospitable, and the most punctual of pay-masters; so that, in spite of the emoluments his works had procured to him, he left but an inconsiderable fortune to his widow. His plates indeed are such resources as may not speedily be exhausted. Some of his domestics had lived many years in his service, a circumstance that always reflects credit on a master. Of most of these he painted strong likenesses on a canvas still in Mrs. Hogarth's possession.

His widow has also a portrait of her husband, and an excellent bust of him by Roubilliac, a strong resemblance; and one of his brother-in-law Mr. Thornhill, much resembling the countenance of Mrs. Hogarth. Several of his portraits also remain in her possession: viz. a finished portrait of Mrs. Mary Lewis; Thomas Coombes of Dorsetshire, aged 108; Lady Thornhill; Mrs. Hogarth herself, &c. &c.

A portrait of Hogarth with his hat on, painted for the late Rev. Mr. Townley by Weltdon, and said to be finished by himself, is in the possession of Mr. James Townley, proctor in Doctors Commons. A mezzotinto print from it will be mentioned under the year 1781 in the Catalogue.

Mr. Edwards, of Beaufort Buildings, has the portrait of Sir George Hay, The Savoyard Girl, The Bench, and Mary Queen of Scots,[76] by Hogarth.

A conversation-piece by him is likewise at Wanstead in Essex, the seat of Earl Tylney.[77] And Mrs. Hoadly has a scene of Ranger and Clarinda in The Suspicious Husband; and the late Chancellor Hoadly repeating a song to Dr. Greene, for him to compose; both by Hogarth. The first of these is an indifferent picture, and contains very inadequate likenesses of the persons represented.

One of the best portraits Hogarth ever painted, is at Lichfield. It is of a gentleman with whom he was very intimate, and at whose houses at Mortlake and in Ironmongers-Lane he spent much of his time—Mr. Joseph Porter, of London, merchant, who died April 7, 1749. Mrs. Porter the sister of this gentleman (who was daughter of Dr. Johnson's wife by a former husband) is in possession of the picture.—John Steers, esq. (of The Paper Buildings in The Temple) has an auction by Hogarth, in which Dr. Chauncey, Dr. Snagg, and others, are introduced; and the Earl of Exeter has a butcher's shop, with Slack fighting, &c.

Of Hogarth's lesser plates many were destroyed. When he wanted a piece of copper on a sudden, he would take any from which he had already worked off such a number of impressions as he supposed he should sell. He then sent it to be effaced, beat out, or otherwise altered to his present purpose.

The plates which remained in his possession were secured to Mrs. Hogarth by his will, dated August 12, 1764, chargeable with an annuity of 80 l. to his sister Anne,[78] who survived him. When, on the death of his other sister, she left off the business in which she was engaged (see, in the Catalogue, the first article among the "Prints of uncertain date,") he kindly took her home, and generously supported her, making her, at the same time, useful in the disposal of his prints. Want of tenderness and liberality to his relations was not among the failings of Hogarth.

Of Hogarth's drawings and contributions towards the works of others, perhaps a number, on enquiry, might be found. An acquaintance of his, the late worthy Mr. John Sanderson, architect, who repaired Woburn Abbey, as well as Bedford House in Bloomsbury-square, possessed several of his curiosities. One was a sketch in black-lead of a celebrated young engraver (long since dead) in a salivation. The best that can be said of it is, that it was most disgustingly natural. Even the coarse ornaments on the corners of the blankets which enwrapped him, were characteristically expressed. Our artist seems to have repeated the same idea, though with less force, and fewer adjuncts, in the third of his Election prints, where a figure swaddled up in flannel is conveyed to the hustings. Two other works, viz. a drawing in Indian ink, and a painting in oil colours, exhibited Bedford House in different points of view; the figures only by Hogarth. Another represented the corner of a street, with a man drinking under the spout of a pump, and heartily angry with the water, which, by issuing out too fast, and in too great quantities, had deluged his face. Our great painter had obliged Mr. Sanderson with several other comic sketches, &c. but most of them had been either begged or stolen, before the communicator of these particulars became acquainted with him.

In the year 1745, Launcelot Burton was appointed naval officer at Deal. Hogarth had seen him by accident; and on a piece of paper, previously impressed by a plain copper-plate, drew his figure with a pen, in imitation of a coarse etching. He was represented on a lean Canterbury hack, with a bottle sticking out of his pocket; and underneath was an inscription, intimating that he was going down to take possession of his place. This was inclosed to him in a letter; and some of his friends, who were in the secret, protested the drawing to be a print which they had seen exposed to sale at the shops in London; a circumstance that put him in a violent passion, during which he wrote an abusive letter to Hogarth, whose name was subscribed to the work. But, after poor Burton's tormentors had kept him in suspence throughout an uneasy three weeks, they proved to him that it was no engraving, but a sketch with a pen and ink. He then became so perfectly reconciled to his resemblance, that he shewed it with exultation to Admiral Vernon, and all the rest of his friends.

In 1753, Hogarth returning with Dr. Morell from a visit to Mr. Rich at Cowley, stopped his chariot, and got out, being struck by a large drawing (with a coal) on the wall of an alehouse. He immediately made a sketch of it with triumph; it was a St. George and the Dragon, all in strait lines.

Hogarth made one essay in sculpture. He wanted a sign to distinguish his house in Leicester-fields; and thinking none more proper than the Golden Head, he, out of a mass of cork made up of several thicknesses compacted together, carved a bust of Vandyck, which he gilt and placed over his door. It is long since decayed, and was succeeded by a head in plaster, which has also perished; and is supplied by a head of Sir Isaac Newton. Hogarth modelled another resemblance of Vandyck in clay; which is likewise destroyed.

It is very properly observed by Mr. Walpole, that "If ever an author wanted a commentary, that none of his beauties might be lost, it is Hogarth; not from being obscure (for he never was that but in two or three of his first prints, where transient national follies, as Lotteries, Free-masonry, and the South Sea, were his topics) but for the use of foreigners, and from a multiplicity of little incidents, not essential to, but always heightening the principal action. Such is the spider's web extended over the poor's box in a parish church; the blunders in architecture in the nobleman's seat, seen through the window, in the first print of Marriage à la Mode; and a thousand in the Strollers dressing in a barn, which, for wit and imagination, without any other aid, is perhaps the best of all his works; as, for useful and deep satire, that on the Methodists is the most sublime. Rouquet, the enameller, published a French explanation, though a superficial one, of many of his prints, which, it was said, he had drawn up for the use of Marshal Belleisle, then a prisoner in England."

However great the deficiencies in this work may be, it was certainly suggested by Hogarth, and drawn up at his immediate request. I receive this information from undoubted authority. Some of the circumstances explanatory of the plates, he communicated; the rest he left to be supplied by Rouquet his near neighbour, who lived in the house at which Gardelle the enameller afterwards lodged, and murdered his landlady Mrs. King. Rouquet, who (as I learn from Mr. Walpole) was a Swiss of French extraction, had formerly published a small tract on the state of the Arts in England, and another, intituled "L'Art de peinture en fromage ou en ramequin, 1755;" 12mo. (V. "La France litteraire, ou Dictionaire des Auteurs François vivans, par M. Formey, 1757.") On the present occasion he was liberally paid by Hogarth, for having cloathed his sentiments and illustrations in a foreign dress. This pamphlet was designed, and continues to be employed, as a constant companion to all such sets of his prints as go abroad. Only the letter descriptive of the March to Finchley was particularly meant for the instruction of Marshal Belleisle.[79]

It was added after the three former epistles had been printed off, and before the plate was published. The entire performance, however, in my opinion, exhibits very strong marks of the vivacious compiler's taste, country, and prejudices. Indeed many passages must have been inserted without the privity of his employer, who had no skill in the French language. That our clergy always affect to ride on white horses, and other remarks of a similar turn, &c. &c. could never have fallen from the pen of Hogarth, or any other Englishman.

This epistle bears also internal evidence to the suggestions Rouquet received from Hogarth. Are not the self-congratulations and prejudices of our artist sufficiently visible in the following passage?

"Ce Tableau dis-je a le defaut d'etre encore tout brillant de cette ignoble fraîcheur qu'on decouvre dans la nature, et qu'on ne voit jamais dans les cabinets bien célèbres. Le tems ne l'a point encore obscurci de cette decte fumée, de ce usage sacré, qui le cachera quelque jour aux yeux profanes du vulgaire, pour ne laisser voir ses beautés qu'aux initiés."

The title of this performance, is, "Lettres de Monsieur * * à un de ses Amis à Paris, pour lui expliquer les Estampes de Monsieur Hogarth.—Imprimé à Londres: et se vend chez R. Dodsley, dans Pall Mall; et chez M. Cooper, dans Paternoster Row, 1746." (Le prix est de douze sols.)

I should here observe, that this pamphlet affords only descriptions of the Harlot's and Rake's Progress, Marriage à la Mode, and the March to Finchley. Nine other plates, viz. the Modern Midnight Conversation, the Distressed Poet, the Enraged Musician, the Fair, Strolling Actresses dressing in a Barn, and the Four Times of the Day, are enumerated without particular explanation.

I am authorized to add, that Hogarth, not long before his death, had determined, in compliance with the repeated solicitations of his customers, to have this work enlarged and rendered into English, with the addition of ample comments on all his performances undescribed by Rouquet.

"Hogarth Moralised"[80] will however in some small degree (a very small one) contribute to preserve the memory of those temporary circumstances which Mr. Walpole is so justly apprehensive will be lost to posterity. Such an undertaking indeed, requires a more intimate acquaintance with fleeting customs, and past occurrences, than the compiler of this work can pretend to. Yet enough has been done by him to awaken a spirit of enquiry, and point out the means by which it may be farther gratified.

The works of Hogarth, as his elegant biographer has well observed, are his history;[81] and the curious are highly indebted to Mr. Walpole for a catalogue of prints, drawn up from his own valuable collection, in 1771. But as neither that catalogue, nor his appendix to it in 1780, have given the whole of Mr. Hogarth's labours, I hope that I shall not be blamed if, by including Mr. Walpole's catalogue, I have endeavoured from later discoveries of our artist's prints in other collections, to arrange them in chronological order. It may not be unamusing to trace the rise and progress of a Genius so strikingly original.

Hogarth gave first impressions of all his plates to his late friends the Rev. Mr. Townley and Dr. Isaac Schomberg.[82] Both sets were sold since the death of these gentlemen. That which was Dr. Schomberg's became the property of the late Sir John Chapman, baronet; and passed after his death into the hands of his brother, the late Sir William Chapman. I should add, indeed, that our artist never sorted his impressions, selecting the slight from the strong ones: so that they who wish to possess any equal series of his prints, must pick it out of different sets.

A portrait of Samuel Martin, esq. the antagonist of Mr. Wilkes, which Mr. Hogarth had painted for his own use, he gave as a legacy to Mr. Martin.

Mrs. Baynes, of Kneeton-Hall, near Richmond, Yorkshire, has an original picture by Hogarth, four feet two inches long, by two feet four inches wide. It is a landscape, with several figures; a man driving sheep; a boat upon a piece of water, and a distant view of a town. This picture was bought in London, by her father, many years ago.

At Lord Essex's sale, in January 1777, Mr. Garrick bought a picture by Hogarth, being the examination of the recruits before the justices Shallow and Silence. For this, it was said in the news-papers, he gave 350 guineas. I have since been told, that remove the figure 3, and the true price paid by the purchaser remains. In private he allowed that he never gave the former of these sums, though in the public prints he did not think such a confession necessary. It was in reality an indifferent performance, as those of Hogarth commonly were, when he strove to paint up to the ideas of others.

Mr. Browning, of King's College, Cambridge, has a small picture by Hogarth, representing Clare-Market. It seems to have been one of our artist's early performances.

There are three large pictures by Hogarth, over the altar in the church of St. Mary Redcliff at Bristol; the sealing of the sacred Sepulchre, the Ascension, and the three Maries, &c. A sum of money was left to defray the expence of these ornaments, and it found its way into Hogarth's pocket. The original sketches in oil for these performances, are now at Mrs. Hogarth's house in Leicester-fields.

In Lord Grosvenor's house, at Milbank, Westminster, is a small painting by our artist on the following subject. A boy's paper-kite in falling become entangled with furze: the boy arrives just as a crow is tearing it in pieces. The expression in his face is worthy of Hogarth.

Hogarth was also supposed to have had some hand in the exhibition of signs,[83] projected above 20 years ago by Bonnel Thornton, of festive memory; but I am informed, that he contributed no otherwise towards this display, than by a few touches of chalk. Among the heads of distinguished personages, finding those of the King of Prussia and the Empress of Hungary, he changed the cast of their eyes so as to make them leer significantly at each other. This is related on the authority of Mr. Colman.

Mr. Richardson ("now," as Dr. Johnson says, "better known by his books than his pictures," though his colouring is allowed to be masterly) having accounted for some classical quotations in his notes on Milton, unlearned as he was, by his son's assisting him as a telescope does the eye in astronomy; Hogarth shewed him with a telescope looking through his son (in no very decent attitude) at a Virgil aloft on a shelf; but afterwards destroyed the plate, and recalled the prints. Qu. if any remain, and what date?—I much question whether this subject was ever thrown upon copper, or meant for the public eye.

In the "Nouveau Dictionnaire Historique, Caen, 1783," our artist is thus characterized: "Ses compositions sont mal dessinées & foiblement colories; mais ce sont des tableaux parlans de diverses scènes comiques ou morales de la vie. Il avoit négligé le méchanisme de son art, c'est à-dire, les traits du pinceau, le rapport des parties entr'elles, l'effèt du clare obscure, l'harmonie du coloris, &c. pour s'élever jusqu'à la perfection de ce méchanisme, c'est à-dire, au poétique & au moral de la peinture. 'Je reconnois,' disoit-il, 'tout le monde pour juge compétent de mes tableaux, excepté les connoisseurs de profession.' Un seul exemple prouvera combien réussit. Il avoit fait graver une estampe, dans laquelle il avoit exprimé avec énergie les différens tourmens qu'on fait éprouver aux animaux. Un charrier fouettoit un jour ses chevaux avec beaucoup de dureté; un bon homme, touché de pitié, lui dit, 'Miserable! tu n'as donc pas vu l'estampe d'Hogarth?' Il n'étoit pas seulement peintre, il fut écrivain. Il publia en 1750 un traité en Anglois, intitulé, 'Analyse de la Beauté.' L'auteur pretend que les formes arrondies constituent la beauté du corps: principe vrai à certains égards, faux a plusieurs autres. Voy. sur cet artiste, la sécond volume du 'Mercure de France,' Janvier, 1770."

Mr. Peter Dupont, a merchant, had the drawing of Paul before Felix, which he purchased for 20 guineas, and bound up with a set of Hogarth's prints. The whole set was afterwards sold by auction, at Baker's, for 17 l. to Mr. Ballard of Little Britain, in whose catalogue it stood some time marked at 25 l. and was parted with for less than that sum.

The following original drawings, by Hogarth, are now in the collection of the Rev. Dr. Lort:

A coloured sketch of a Family Picture, with ten whole-length figures, most insipidly employed. A Head of a Sleeping Child, in colours, as large as life, &c. &c. &c.

When Hogarth designed the print intituled Morning, his idea of an Old Maid appears to have been adopted from one of that forlorn sisterhood, when emaciated by corroding appetites, or, to borrow Dryden's more forcible language, by "agony of unaccomplished love." But there is in being, and perhaps in Leicester-fields, a second portrait by our artist, exhibiting the influence of the same misfortune on a more fleshy carcase. The ancient virgin[84] now treated of, is corpulent even to shapelessness. Her neck resembles a collar of brawn; and had her arms been admitted on the canvas, they must have rivalled in magnitude the thighs of the Farnesian god. Her bosom, luckily for the spectator, is covered; as a display of it would have served only to provoke abhorrence. But what words can paint the excess of malice and vulgarity predominant in her visage!—an inflated hide that seems bursting with venom—a brow wrinkled by a Sardonic grin that threatens all the vengeance an affronted Fury would rejoice to execute. Such ideas also of warmth does this mountain of quaggy flesh communicate, that, without hyperbole, one might swear she would parch the earth she trod on, thaw a frozen post-boy, or over-heat a glasshouse. "How dreadful," said a bystander, "would be this creature's hatred!" "How much more formidable," replied his companion, "would be her love!"—Such, however, was the skill of Hogarth, that he could impress similar indications of stale virginity on features directly contrasted, and force us to acknowledge one identical character in the brim-full and exhausted representative of involuntary female celibacy.

Mr. S. Ireland has likewise a sketch in chalk, on blue paper, of Falstaff and his companions; two sketches intended for the "Happy Marriage;" a sketch for a picture to shew the pernicious effects of masquerading; sketch of King George II. and the royal family; sketch of his present Majesty, taken hastily on seeing the new coinage of 1764; portrait of Hogarth by himself, with a palette; of Justice Welsh;[85] of Sir James Thornhill; of Sir Edward Walpole;[86] of his friend George Lambert, the landscape-painter; of a boy; of a girl's head, in the character of Diana, finished according to Hogarth's idea of beauty; of a black girl; and of Governor Rogers and his family, a conversation-piece; eleven Sketches from Nature, designed for Mr. Lambert; four drawings of conversations at Button's Coffee-house; Cymon and Iphigenia; two black chalk drawings (landscapes) given to Mr. Kirby in 1762; three heads, slightly drawn with a pen by Hogarth, to exemplify his distinction between Character and Caricature, done at the desire of Mr. Townley, whose son gave them to Dr. Schomberg; a landscape in oil: with several other sketches in oil.

The late Mr. Forrest, of York Buildings, was in possession of a sketch in oil of our Saviour (designed as a pattern for painted glass), together with the original portrait of Tibson the Laceman,[87] and several drawings descriptive of the incidents that happened during a five days tour by land and water. The parties were Messieurs Hogarth, Thornhill (son of the late Sir James), Scott (the ingenious landscape-painter of that name), Tothall,[88] and Forrest. They set out at midnight, at a moment's warning, from the Bedford Arms Tavern, with each a shirt in his pocket. They had particular departments to attend to; Hogarth and Scott made the drawings; Thornhill the map; Tothall faithfully discharged the joint office of treasurer and caterer; and Forrest wrote the journal. They were out five days only; and on the second night after their return, the book was produced, bound, gilt, and lettered, and read at the same tavern to the members of the club then present. Mr. Forrest had also drawings of two of the members (Gabriel Hunt and Ben Read), remarkable fat men, in ludicrous situations. Etchings from all these having been made in 1782, accompanied by the original journal in letter-press, an account of them will appear in the Catalogue under that year.

A transcript of the journal was left in the hands of Mr. Gostling,[89] who wrote an imitation of it in Hudibrastic verse; twenty copies only of which having been printed in 1781, as a literary curiosity,[90] I was requested by some of my friends to reprint it at the end of the second edition of this work. It had originally been kept back, in compliment to the writer of the prose journey; but, as that in the mean time had been given to the public by authority, to preserve the Tour in a more agreeable dress cannot, it is presumed, be deemed an impropriety. See the Appendix, N° III.