[39] This idea originally occurred in Colley Cibber's Apology. From thence it was transplanted by Lloyd into his celebrated poem intituled The Actor. Lying thus in the way of Garrick, he took it up for the use of the prologue already quoted. Lastly, Mr. Sheridan, in his beautiful Monody, condescended to borrow it, only because it spared him the labour of unlocking the richer storehouse of his own imagination.

I may however remark that Cibber, when he suggested this mortifying reflection, had more reason on his side than some of his successors who have indulged themselves in the same dolorous strain of complaint. To whatever oblivion the celebrated actors of the last age have been resigned, the pencil of Hogarth, Dance, Zoffani, and Reynolds, had left Mr. Garrick not the slightest reason to be apprehensive that, in his own particular case, the art and the artist would alike be forgotten. Meanwhile, let our heroes of the stage be taught to moderate their anxiety for posthumous renown, by a recollection that their peculiar modes of excellence will, at least, be as well preserved to futurity as those of the lords Chatham and Mansfield, whose talents, perhaps, might support an equal claim to perpetuation.

[40] Dr. M. once observed to J. N. in a letter on this subject, "In the 13th chapter I was somewhat puzzled with the flat and round, or the concave and convex, appearing the reverse; till the sun happily shining in upon the cornice, I had a fair example of what he intended to express. The next chapter, with regard to colouring, did not go on quite so smooth; for, if I satisfied him, I was not satisfied myself with his peculiar principles; nor could I relish his laying the blame on the colourmen, &c."

[41] One exception to this remark occurs in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1754, p. 14; where the reviewer of the Analysis observes, that it is "a book written with that precision and perspicuity which can only result from a perfect knowledge of his subject in all its extent. His rules are illustrated by near two hundred figures, engraved by himself; the knowledge which it contains is universally useful, and as all terms of art are avoided, the language will be universally understood. The player and the dancing-master, whom others consider as patterns of just action and genteel deportment, are not less instructed than the statuary and the painter; nor is there any species of beauty or elegance that is not here investigated and analysed.

"A book, by which the author has discovered such superiority, could scarce fail of creating many enemies; those who admit his Analysis to be just, are disposed to deny that it is new. Though in the year 1745, having drawn a serpentine line on a painter's pallet, with these words under it, 'the line of beauty,' as a frontispiece to his prints, no Egyptian hieroglyphic ever produced greater variety of speculation; both painters and sculptors then came to enquire the meaning of a symbol, which they soon pretended to have been their old acquaintance; though the account they could give of its properties were scarce so satisfactory as that of a day-labourer, who constantly uses the lever, could give of that instrument, as a mechanical power. The work, however, will live when these cavils are forgotten; and except the originals, of which it is pretended to be a copy, are produced, there is no question but that the name of the author will descend to posterity with that honour which competitors only can wish to withhold."

It should be observed, however, that the general decision on Hogarth's performance may be just. Certain we are, that it has not been reversed by the opinion of the First of our Modern Painters.

[42] The Analysis itself however affords sufficient specimens of inaccuracy in spelling. Thus we have (pref. p. xix.) Syclamen instead of Cyclamen; (p. 44.) calcidonian for Chalcedonian; (p. 65.) nuckles for knuckles; (p. 97.) Irish-stitch for Iris-stitch, &c. &c. In the sheets that contain these errors, it is easy to conceive that Hogarth must have been his own corrector of the press.

[43] It is so extraordinary for an illiterate person to ridicule inaccuracy of spelling, that this might probably be a real blunder.

[44] Some account of this work will be given in a future page.

[45] See a note on Marriage-a-la-Mode (under the year 1745); from whence it sufficiently appears, that indelicacies, &c. had been imputed to Hogarth's performances, and that, therefore, when he advertised the six plates of Marriage-a-la-Mode, he thought it necessary to assure the public that no indelicacy, indecency, or personality, would be found in any of these representations.

[46] The exigence of this card having been doubted, it is engraved in our title-page, from the original now in Charles Street, Grosvenor Square, in the possession of Dr. Wright.

[47] This pun reminds us of a similar one from Garth to Rowe, who making repeated use of his snuff-box, the Doctor at last sent it to him with the two Greek letters written on the lid, Φ, ρ, (Phi, Ro). At this the sour Dennis was so provoked, as to declare, that "a man who could make such a vile pun, would not scruple to pick a pocket."

[48] The cat spitting at the dog is a circumstance in the fourth plate of Industry and Idleness, where it is naturally introduced. The dog attends on a porter who is bringing in goods; and the warehouse cat, who considers this animal as an invader, is preparing to defend her person and premises.

[49] When this ample, nay, redundant, apology by Dr. Joseph Warton first made its appearance, Hogarth was highly delighted with as much of it as he understood. But, not knowing the import of the word ΗθΟΣ [Greek: Ethos], he hastened to his friends for information. All, in their turn, sported with his want of skill in the learned languages; first telling him it was Greek for one strange thing, and then for another, so that his mind remained in a state of suspence; as, for aught he knew to the contrary, some such meaning might lie under these crooked letters, as would overset the compliments paid him in the former parts of the paragraph. No short time, therefore, had passed before he could determine whether he ought to retract or continue his charge against his adversary: but it was at last obliterated. For several months afterwards, however, poor Hogarth never praised his provision or his wine, without being asked what proportion of the ΗθΟΣ [Greek: Ethos] he supposed to be in either.

[50] An engraving from this picture may be expected from Mr. Livesay.

[51] A polite gentleman, of great learning, and much esteemed. He had some good pictures, and a very fine library, in the great house at Peckham (formerly inhabited by Lord Trevor), which, together with a considerable estate there, was bequeathed to him by his aunt Mrs. Hill.

[52] See the names of the purchasers, and prices of this collection, in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1758, p. 225.

[53] He painted the heart from an injected one provided for him by Cæsar Hawkins the surgeon; and, on the authority of repeated inspection, I venture to affirm, that the fingers of Sigismunda are unstained with blood, and that neither of her hands is employed in rending ornaments from her head, or any other part of her person. In this instance Mr. Walpole's memory must have failed him, as I am confident that his misrepresentation was undesigned. It is whispered (we know not with how much truth) that Mrs. H. was hurt by this description of the picture, and that she returned no thanks for the volume that contains it, when it was sent to her as a present by its author. It should seem that she still designs to dispose of this ill-fated performance, and thinks that its reputation required no additional blast.

I have reprinted this note, without correction, that I might thereby obtain the fairer opportunity of doing justice to Mr. Walpole, concerning the faithfulness of whose memory I had ventured to express a doubt. Genuine information is not always to be had; nor shall I hesitate a moment to apologize for the fallaciousness of mine. The fingers of Sigismunda were originally stained with blood. This indelicate and offensive circumstance was pointed out by some intelligent friend to Hogarth, who reluctantly effaced it.

A correspondent, however, on reading this work, has furnished an additional reason why the lady already mentioned may be offended by the severity of Mr. Walpole's strictures on Sigismunda. "It has been whispered that Count Guiscard's widow was a copy from the daughter of Sir James Thornhill. If this circumstance be true, the very accomplished Critick of Strawberry Hill will own at least that her wrath and Juno's had the same provocation, 'Judiciam Paridis, spretæque injuria formæ.' Impartiality, however, obliges us to add, that Mrs. Hogarth, though in years, is still a very fine woman; and that Mr. Walpole's idea of what a picture of Sigismunda ought to express, is poetically conceived, and delivered with uncommon elegance and force of language. The sober grief, the dignity of suppressed anguish, the involuntary tear, the settled meditation on the fate she meant to meet, and the amorous warmth turned holy by despair, are words that fill the place of colours, supply all the imperfections of Hogarth's design, and succeed even where a Furino or a Correggio may have failed."

[54] This circumstance was ridiculed in a grotesque print, called A Harlot blubbering over a bullock's heart. By William Hogart.

[55] "Many causes may vitiate a writer's judgement of his own works. On that which has cost him much labour he sets a high value, because he is unwilling to think that he has been diligent in vain; what has been produced without toilsome efforts is considered with delight, as a proof of vigorous faculties and fertile invention; and the last work, whatever it be, has necessarily most of the grace of novelty. Milton, however it happened, had this prejudice, and had it to himself." Dr. Johnson.

[56] Sigismunda, however, though she missed of judicious admirers, had, at least, the good fortune to meet with a flatterer in the late Mr. Robert Lloyd, whose poem intituled Genius, Envy, and Time, addressed to William Hogarth, esq. has the following lines. Time is the speaker.

"While Sigismunda's deep distress
Which looks the soul of wretchedness,
When I, with slow and softening pen,
Have gone o'er all the tints agen,
Shall urge a bold and proper claim,
To level half the ancient fame;
While future ages, yet unknown,
With critic air shall proudly own
Thy Hogarth first of every clime
For humour keen, or strong sublime, &c."

It is but justice, on one hand, to add, that when Lloyd wrote this eulogium, he was not yet enlisted under the banners of fashion; but impartiality, on the other hand, requires we should observe that, having, like Hogarth, seen few pictures by the best masters, he was treating of an art he did not understand.

The authors of the Monthly Review are of opinion, that Mr. Walpole speaks too contemptuously of Sigismunda, and that there is no ground for the insinuation that the person for whom it was painted thought meanly of it. "We have in our possession (say they) a letter to Hogarth from the noble person referred to, in which he expresses himself in the following terms;—I really think the performance so striking and inimitable, that the constantly having it before one's eyes, would be often occasioning melancholy ideas to arise in one's mind, which, a curtain being drawn before it, would not diminish in the least." Surely this epistle, if genuine, was ironical. Or shall we suppose that, afterwards, his lordship only saw the picture through the disgusting medium of the price? Mr. Wilkes's opinion of the piece will be best conveyed in his own words, which are therefore copied in note 65, below.

Dr. Morell, an intimate friend of Mr. Hogarth, who was applied to for information, returned for answer: "His excellencies, as well as his foibles, are so universally known, that I cannot add to the former, and would not, if I could, to the latter. I should think we lived in a very ill-natured world, if the whims and follies in a man's life were to be exposed, and his oddities and mistakes, ubi plura nitent, seriously condemned. But the unhappy affair of Sigismunda requires animadversion. And I will venture to say that even this Sigismunda would not have deserved so many hard things as have been said of it, if Mr. Hogarth had timely and properly observed the caution—Manum de Tabula. But it was so altered, upon the criticism of one Connoisseur or another; and especially when, relying no longer upon strength of genius, he had recourse to the feigned tears and fictitious woe of a female friend; that, when it appeared at the exhibition, I scarce knew it again myself, and from a passable picture it became little better than the wretched figure here represented. In my opinion, I never saw a finer resemblance of flesh and blood, while the canvas was warm, I mean wet; but, like that of real flesh, as soon as it was chilled, the beauty wore off. And this, he said, could not be helped, as no colours, but those of pure nature, as ultramarine, &c. would keep their natural brightness. But it is granted that colouring was not Mr. Hogarth's forte; and the subject we are upon is a disagreeable one."

[57] The first sketch in oil for Sigismunda, and a drawing from the finished picture, are in the possession of Mr. Samuel Ireland.

[58] At the Club of Artists, it was not unusual to reproach Hogarth with want of due attention to the Ancients, whom he always affected to despise. It accidentally happened that Mr. Basire, whilst this plate was in hand, was employed likewise in engraving, for the Society of Antiquaries, two plates of an antique bronze from the collection of Mr. Hollis, so remarkably grotesque, that Mr. Hogarth very readily consented that his plate should be postponed, and declared, "he could not have imagined that the Ancients had possessed so much humour."

[59] Some subscriptions were actually received, and the money returned. The munificient Mr. Hollis, who was one of the subscribers, refused to take back what he had paid; and it was given by Mr. Basire to a public charity.

[60] Two other little pieces are ascribed to him; the distich under the subscription-ticket for his Sigismunda, 1761,

'To Nature and yourself appeal;
Nor learn of others how to feel.'

And the following well-known Epigram:

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

[61] On what account I know not, but he had then forborn painting for more than a year.

[62] See hereafter, note 65.

[63] In the Beauties of all the Magazines, 1773, p. 440, is a droll "Epistle from Jacob Henriques, born anno Domini, &c. to Messieurs Hogarth and Churchill greeting."

[64] For this the Satirist unmercifully apologizes in the conclusion of his poem, which may be seen in the Catalogue, under the year 1763, in a note on N° 2.

[65] As much of this paper as relates to our artist is here subjoined:

"The humourous Mr. Hogarth, the supposed author of the Analysis of Beauty, has at last entered the list of politicians, and given us a print of The Times. Words are man's province, says Pope; but they are not Mr. Hogarth's province. He somewhere mentions his being indebted to a friend for a third part of the wording: that is his phrase. We all titter the instant he takes up a pen, but we tremble when we see the pencil in his hand. I will do him the justice to say, that he possesses the rare talent of gibbetting in colours, and that in most of his works he has been a very good moral satirist. His forte is there, and he should have kept it. When he has at any time deviated from his own peculiar walk, he has never failed to make himself perfectly ridiculous. I need only make my appeal to any one of his historical or portrait pieces, which are now considered as almost beneath all criticism. The favourite Sigismunda, the labour of so many years, the boasted effort of his art, was not human. If the figure had a resemblance of any thing ever on earth, or had the least pretence to meaning or expression, it was what he had seen, or perhaps made, in real life, his own wife in an agony of passion; but of what passion no connoisseur could guess. All his friends remember what tiresome discourses were held by him day after day about the transcendent merit of it, and how the great names of Raphael, Vandyke, and others, were made to yield the palm of beauty, grace, expression, &c. to him, for this long laboured, yet still, uninteresting, single figure. The value he himself set on this, as well as on some other of his works, almost exceeds belief; yet from politeness or fear, or some other motives, he has actually been paid the most astonishing sums, as the price, not of his merit, but of his unbounded vanity.

"The darling passion of Mr. Hogarth is to shew the faulty and dark side of every object. He never gives us in perfection the fair face of nature, but admirably well holds out her deformities to ridicule. The reason is plain. All objects are painted on his retina in a grotesque manner, and he has never felt the force of what the French call la belle nature. He never caught a single idea of beauty, grace, or elegance; but, on the other hand, he never missed the least flaw in almost any production of nature or of art. This is his true character. He has succeeded very happily in the way of humour, and has miscarried in every other attempt. This has arisen in some measure from his head, but much more from his heart. After Marriage à la Mode, the public wished for a series of prints of a happy marriage. Hogarth made the attempt, but the rancour and malevolence of his mind made him very soon turn with envy and disgust from objects of so pleasing contemplation, to dwell and feast a bad heart on others of a hateful cast, which he pursued, for he found them congenial, with the most unabating zeal, and unrelenting gall.

"I have observed some time his setting sun. He has long been very dim, and almost shorn of his beams. He seems so conscious of this, that he now glimmers with borrowed light. John Bull's house in flames has been hackney'd in fifty different prints; and if there is any merit in the figure on stilts, and the mob prancing around, it is not to be ascribed to Hogarth, but to Callot. That spirited Italian, whom the English painter has so carefully studied, has given us in the Balli di Sfessania di Jacomo Callot, the very same ideas, but infinitely more ludicrous in the execution. The piece is Smaraolo cornuto. Ratsa di Boio. The Times must be confessed destitute of every kind of original merit. The print at first view appears too much crouded with figures; and is in every part confused, perplexed, and embarrassed. The story is not well told to the eye; nor can we any where discover the faintest ray of that genius, which with a few strokes of the pencil enabled us to penetrate into the deepest recesses of thought, and even caprice, in a rake, a harlot, and a profligate young man of quality.

"I own too that I am grieved to see the genius of Hogarth, which should take in all ages and countries, sunk to a level with the miserable tribe of party-etchers, and now, in his rapid decline, entering into the poor politics of the faction of the day, and descending into low personal abuse, instead of instructing the world, as he could once, by manly moral satire. Whence can proceed so surprizing a change? Is it the frowardness of old age? Or is it that envy and impatience of resplendent merit in every way, at which he has always sickened? How often has he been remarked to droop at the fair and honest applause given even to a friend, though he had particular obligations to the very same gentleman! What wonder then that some of the most respectable characters of the age become the objects of his ridicule? It is sufficient that the rest of mankind applaud; from that moment he begins the attack, and you never can be well with him, till he hears an universal outcry against you, and till all your friends have given you up. There is besides a silly affectation of singularity, joined to a strong desire of leading the rest of the world: when that is once found impracticable, the spleen engendered on such an occasion is discharged at a particular object, or ends in a general misanthropy. The public never had the least share of Hogarth's regard, or even good-will. Gain and vanity have steered his little bark quite through life. He has never been consistent but with respect to those two principles. What a despicable part has he acted with regard to the society of Arts and Sciences! How shuffling has his conduct been to the whole body of Artists! Both these useful societies have experienced the most ungenteel and offensive behaviour from him. There is at this hour scarcely a single man of any degree of merit in his own profession, with whom he does not hold a professed enmity. It is impossible the least degree of friendship could ever subsist in this intercourse of the arts with him; for his insufferable vanity will never allow the least merit in another, and no man of a liberal turn of mind will ever condescend to feed his pride with the gross and fulsome praise he expects, or to burn the incense he claims, and indeed snuffs like a most gracious god. To this he joins no small share of jealousy; in consequence of which, he has all his life endeavoured to suppress rising merit, and has been very expert in every mean underhand endeavour, to extinguish the least spark of genuine fire. Rut all genius was not born, nor will die, with Mr. Hogarth: and notwithstanding all his ungenerous efforts to damp or chill it in another, I will trust to a discerning and liberal spirit in the English nation, to patronize and reward all real merit. It will in the end rise superior to the idle laugh of the hour, which these triflers think it the highest praise to be able to raise. For my part, I scarcely know a more profligate principle, than the indiscriminately sacrificing every thing, however great or good, to the dangerous talent of ridicule; and a man, whose sole object is dummodo risum excutiat, ought to be avoided as the worst pest of society, as the enemy most to be feared, I mean a treacherous friend. Such a man will go all lengths to raise a laugh at your expence, and your whole life will be made miserable from his ambition of diverting the company for half an hour.

"I love to trace the ideas of a Genius, and to mark the progress of every art. Mr. Hogarth has heard much of the cobwebs of the law, and the spinning fine spider-webs, &c. This is thrown on paper, and the idea carefully treasured. Lord Hardwicke being at the head of the law, and deservedly in as high esteem with his countrymen as any man who ever held the seals, unspotted in life, and equally revered by prince and people, becomes an excellent subject for the satirical pencil of a malevolent painter. He is accordingly emblematically represented by Mr. Hogarth as a great spider in a large, thick web, with myriads of the carcases of flies, clients I suppose, sucked to death by the gloomy tyrant. Mr. Hogarth had heard of Mr. Pitt's being above all his fellow-citizens, and of his superior virtue having raised him to an envied and dangerous height of grandeur. Now this he has taken literally, and, with the kind aid of Callot, has put Mr. Pitt on stilts, and made the people look up to him; which, after all this insipid ridicule, they will continue to do, as a kind of tutelar deity, from whom they expect that security and those blessings they despair of from others. As to the conceit of the bellows, to signify, I suppose, Mr. Pitt's endeavours to blow up the flames of war and discord, it is at once very poor and very false. His whole conduct the last session in parliament, and out of the house ever since, has demonstrated the contrary: neque vero hoc oratione solum, sed multo magis vitâ et moribus comprobavit. Cic. de Fin.

"Lord Temple is a nobleman of fine parts and unsullied honour, who has shewn a thorough disinterestedness, a great love of liberty, and a steady attachment to the public, in every part of his conduct through life. It was impossible such a character could be missed by the poisonous shafts of envy, which we see pointed at all superior virtue.... Mr. Hogarth's wit on this noble lord is confined to the wretched conceits of the Temple Coffee-house, and a squirt to signify the playing on the ministry. I really believe this wit is all Mr. Hogarth's own.

"When a man of parts dedicates his talents to the service of his country, he deserves the highest rewards: when he makes them subservient to base purposes, he merits execration and punishment. Among the Spartans, music and poetry were made to serve the noblest purposes of the Lacedemonian state. A manly courage and great contempt of death were inspired by them; and the poet, musician, soldier, and patriot, were often the same good citizen, who despised the low mechanic lucre of the profession, and was zealous only for the glory of his country. In the year 1746, when the Guards were ordered to march to Finchley, on the most important service they could be employed in, the extinguishing a Scottish rebellion, which threatened the intire ruin of the illustrious family on the throne, and, in consequence, of our liberties, Mr. Hogarth came out with a print to make them ridiculous to their countrymen and to all Europe; or perhaps it rather was to tell the Scots in his way how little the Guards were to be feared, and that they might safely advance. That the ridicule might not stop here, and that it might be as offensive as possible to his own sovereign, he dedicated the print to the king of Pru[s]ia[A] as an encourager of arts. Is this patriotism! In old Rome, or in any of the Grecian states, he would have been punished as a profligate citizen, totally devoid of all principle. In England he is rewarded, and made serjeant painter to that very king's grandson. I think the term means the same as what is vulgarly called house-painter; and indeed he has not been suffered to caricature the royal family. The post of portrait-painter is given to a Scotsman, one Ramsay. Mr. Hogarth is only to paint the wainscot of the rooms, or, in the phrase of the art, may be called their pannel-painter. But how have the Guards offended Mr. Hogarth, for he is again attacking them in The Times? Lord Harrington's second troop of grenadier guards is allowed to be very perfect in every part of military discipline; and Hogarth's friend, the king of Prussia, could have shewn him the real importance of it. He had heard them much applauded, and therefore must abuse them. The ridicule ends however in airs composed by Harrington, and in a piece of clock-work; but he ought to have known, that though l'homme machine is not sound philosophy, it is the true doctrine of tactics.

"The Militia has received so many just testimonies of applause, both from their king and country, that the attack of envy and malevolence was long expected. But I dare say this poor jester will have Mr. George Townshend's free consent to vent his spleen upon him and the gentlemen of Norfolk. I believe he may ever go on in this way almost unnoticed; at one time ridiculing the Guards for a disorderly, and at another the Militia for an exact and orderly march. Mr. Townshend will still have the warm applause of his country, and the truest satisfaction, that of an honest heart, for his patriot labours in establishing this great plan of internal defence, a Militia, which has delivered us from the ignominy of foreign hirelings, and the ridiculous fears of invasion, by a brave and well-disciplined body of Englishmen, at all times ready and zealous for the defence of their country, and of its laws and constitution."

[66] The present Lord Camden.

[67] This gave rise to a catchpenny, intituled, "Pug's Reply to Parson Bruin; or, a Political Conference, occasioned by an Epistle to William Hogarth, Esq;" 4to.

[68] "Which was probably accelerated by this unlucky (we had almost said unnatural) event; for Wilkes, Churchill, and Hogarth, had been intimate friends, and might have continued such as long as they lived, had not the dæmon of politics and party sown discord among them, and dissolved their union."

[69]—the friend——Dr. Morell. The conduct of this gentleman cannot fail to put the reader in mind of Sir Fretful Plagiary's complaint in Mr. Sheridan's Critic: "—if it is abuse, why one is always sure to hear of it from one damn'd good-natured friend or another."

[70]

"While thinking figures from the canvas start,
And Hogarth is the Garrick of his art,"

is a couplet in Smart's Hilliad.

The compliment from the Hilliad to Mr. Hogarth, Mr. Smart observes, "is reciprocal, and reflects a lustre on Mr. Garrick, both of them having similar talents, equally capable of the highest elevation, and of representing the ordinary scenes of life with the most exquisite humour."

[71] The pyramid, &c. This stroke of satire was retorted on Hogarth, and employed to express his advanced age and declining abilities; while the Cheshire cheese, with 3000 l. on it, seemed to imply that he himself merited an annual pension.

I received this explanation from an ingenious friend.—The late Mr. Rogers explained it thus: "Mr. Pitt is represented in it sitting at his ease [in the position of the great Sir Isaac Newton in Westminster-Abbey], with a mill-stone hanging over his head, on which is written 3000 l. in allusion to his saying, that Hanover was a mill-stone round the neck of England, on account of the expences attending it; and his afterwards adding himself to the public expences by accepting a pension of 3000 l. a year. He is firing a mortar-piece levelled at a Dove bearing an olive-branch (the symbol of peace) perched on the standard of England; and is supported by the City of London, denoted by the two Giants in Guildhall. Hogarth is flogging Wilkes and Churchill, and making them dance to the scrapings of a fidler; designed to represent a Nobleman [Earl Temple], who patronized them in 1763, and who, for his unmeaning face, has ever been described without a feature. See Trusler's Preface, p. vii."

[72] It may be worth observing, that in "Independence," a poem which was not published by Churchill till the last week of September, 1764, he considers his antagonist as a departed Genius:

"Hogarth would draw him (Envy must allow)
E'en to the life, was Hogarth living now."

How little did the sportive Satirist imagine that the power of pleasing was so soon to cease in both! Hogarth died in four weeks after the publication of this poem; and Churchill survived him but nine days. In some lines which were printed in November 1764, the compiler of these Anecdotes took occasion to lament that

"——Scarce had the friendly tear,
For Hogarth shed, escap'd the generous eye
Of feeling Pity, when again it flow'd
For Churchill's fate. Ill can we bear the loss
Of Fancy's twin-born offspring, close ally'd
In energy of thought, though different paths
They sought for fame! Though jarring passions sway'd
The living artists, let the funeral wreath
Unite their memory!"

[73] The Monthly Reviewer unintentionally reads supper, instead of dinner. As to this article of minute intelligence, whether it be true or false, it was communicated by Mrs. Lewis.

[74] Mr. Walpole once invited Gray the Poet and Hogarth to dine with him; but what with the reserve of the one, and a want of colloquial talents in the other, he never passed a duller time than between these representatives of Tragedy and Comedy, being obliged to rely entirely on his own efforts to support conversation.

[75] The most solid praise, perhaps, that ever was given to our artist, was a legacy of 100 l. "for the great pleasure the testator had received from his works."

[76] Originally begun for a portrait of Mrs. Cholmondeley, but altered, after one or two sittings, to the Queen.

[77] See p. 9.

[78] To whom, in case of Mrs. Hogarth's marrying again, he gave the plates of Marriage à la Mode, and of the Harlot's and Rake's Progress.

[79] Whilst the Marshal was a prisoner in England, Monsieur Coetlagon opened a subscription at two guineas, one to be paid on subscribing, the other on the delivery of "A Dictionary of Arts and Sciences," in two large folio volumes. Many of the nobility, as well as gentry subscribed; but very few of them made good their second payments, or had the work; and the author dedicated it (in gratitude, it is supposed, for the generous patronage he received from the English) to Marshal Belleisle; whose place of confinement was in The Round Tower at Windsor Castle; where the large dining-room is still ornamented with a variety of humourous French engravings; and a small library of French books.

[80] In the year 1768 was published a work, intituled, "Hogarth Moralised. Being a complete Edition of Hogarth's Works. Containing near Fourscore Copper-Plates, most elegantly engraved. With an Explanation, pointing out the many Beauties that may have hitherto escaped Notice, and a Comment on their Moral Tendency, &c. With the Approbation of Jane Hogarth, Widow of the late Mr. Hogarth."

The history of the work is as follows: The Rev. John Trusler engaged with some engravers in this design, after Hogarth's death, when they could carry it into execution with impunity. Mrs. Hogarth, finding her property would be much affected by it, was glad to accept an offer they made her, of entering into partnership with them; and they were very glad to receive her, knowing her name would give credit to the publication, and that she would certainly supply many anecdotes to explain the plates. Such as are found in the work are probably all hers. The other stuff was introduced by the editor to eke out the book. We are informed, that, when the undertaking was completed, in order to get rid of her partners, she was glad to buy out their shares, so that the whole expence which fell on her amounted to at least 700 l.

[81] "They abound," says an excellent judge, "in true humour; and satire, which is generally well-directed: they are admirable moral lessons, and afford a fund of entertainment suited to every taste: a circumstance, which shews them to be just copies of nature." We may consider them too as valuable repositories of the manners, customs, and dresses of the present age. What amusement would a collection of this kind afford, drawn from every period of the history of Britain!—How far the works of Hogarth will bear a critical examination, may be the subject of a little more enquiry. In design Hogarth was seldom at a loss. His invention was fertile, and his judgement accurate. An improper incident is rarely introduced; a proper one rarely omitted. No one could tell a story better; or make it, in all its circumstances, more intelligible. His genius, however, it must be owned, was suited only to low, or familiar subjects. It never soared above common life: to subjects naturally sublime, or which from antiquity, or other accidents, borrowed dignity, he could not rise. In composition we see little in him to admire. In many of his prints, the deficiency is so great, as plainly to imply a want of all principle; which makes us ready to believe, that when we do meet with a beautiful group, it is the effect of chance. In one of his minor works, the Idle Prentice, we seldom see a crowd more beautifully managed, than in the last print. If the sheriff's officers had not been placed in a line, and had been brought a little lower in the picture, so as to have formed a pyramid with the cart, the composition had been unexceptionable: and yet the first print of this work is so striking an instance of disagreeable composition, that it is amazing, how an artist, who had any idea of beautiful forms, could suffer so unmasterly a performance to leave his hands. Of the distribution of light Hogarth had as little knowledge as of composition. In some of his pieces we see a good effect; as in the execution just mentioned; in which, if the figures at the right and left corners had been kept down a little, the light would have been beautifully distributed on the fore-ground, and a little fine secondary light spread over part of the crowd: but at the same time there is so obvious a deficiency in point of effect, in most of his prints, that it is very evident he had no principles. Neither was Hogarth a master in drawing. Of the muscles and anatomy of the head and hands he had perfect knowledge; but his trunks are often badly moulded, and his limbs ill set on. I tax him with plain bad drawing; I speak not of the niceties of anatomy, and elegance of outline: of these indeed he knew nothing; nor were they of use in that mode of design which he cultivated: and yet his figures, upon the whole, are inspired with so much life and meaning, that the eye is kept in good humour, in spite of its inclination to find fault. The author of the Analysis of Beauty, it might be supposed, would have given us more instances of grace, than we find in the works of Hogarth; which shews strongly that theory and practice are not always united. Many opportunities his subjects naturally afford of introducing graceful attitudes; and yet we have very few examples of them. With instances of picturesque grace his works abound. Of his expression, in which the force of his genius lay, we cannot speak in terms too high. In every mode of it he was truly excellent. The passions he thoroughly understood, and all the effects which they produce in every part of the human frame: he had the happy art also of conveying his ideas with the same precision with which he conceived them.—He was excellent too in expressing any humorous oddity, which we often see stamped upon the human face. All his heads are cast in the very mould of nature. Hence that endless variety, which is displayed through his works: and hence it is, that the difference arises between his heads, and the affected caricaturas of those masters, who have sometimes amused themselves with patching together an assemblage of features from their own ideas. Such are Spagniolet's; which, though admirably executed, appear plainly to have no archetypes in nature. Hogarth's, on the other hand, are collections of natural curiosities. The Oxford-heads, the physicians-arms, and some of his other pieces, are expressly of this humorous kind. They are truly comic; though ill-natured effusions of mirth: more entertaining than Spagniolet's, as they are pure nature; but less innocent, as they contain ill-directed ridicule.—But the species of expression, in which this master perhaps most excels, is that happy art of catching those peculiarities of air, and gesture, which the ridiculous part of every profession contract; and which, for that reason, become characteristics of the whole. His counsellors, his undertakers, his lawyers, his usurers, are all conspicuous at sight. In a word, almost every profession may see, in his works, that particular species of affectation which they should most endeavour to avoid. The execution of this master is well-suited to his subjects, and manner of treating them. He etches with great spirit; and never gives one unnecessary stroke. For myself, I greatly more value the works of his own needle, than those high-finished prints on which he employed other engravers. For as the production of an effect is not his talent; and as this is the chief excellence of high finishing; his own rough manner is certainly preferable; in which we have most of the force and spirit of his expression. The manner in none of his works pleases me so well as in a small print of a corner of a play-house. There is more spirit in a work of this kind, struck off at once, warm from the imagination, than in all the cold correctness of an elaborate engraving. If all his works had been executed in this style, with a few improvements in the compositions, and the management of light, they would certainly have been a much more valuable collection of prints than they are. The Rake's Progress, and some of his other works, are both etched and engraved by himself: they are well done; but it is plain he meant them as furniture. As works designed for a critick's eye, they would certainly have been better without the engraving, except a few touches in a very few places. The want of effect too would have been less conspicuous, which in his highest-finished prints is disagreeably striking." Gilpin, Essay on Prints, p. 165.