Part 16

"It has been well observed, that a great and just objection to the Genius of Painters is their want of invention; from whence proceeds so many different designs or draughts on the same history or fable. Few have ventured to touch upon a new story; but still fewer have invented both the story and the execution, as the ingenious Mr. _Hogarth_ has done, in his six prints of a _Harlot's Progress_; and, without a compliment, Sir, your admirable Cantos are a true key and lively explanation of the painter's hieroglyphicks.

"I am, Sir, yours, &c.

"A. PHILLIPS."

This letter, ascribed to _Ambrose Phillips_, was in all probability a forgery, like the name of _Joseph Gay_.

[3] "Mother _Needham's_ Lamentation," was published in _May_ 1731, price 6d.

[4] It seems agreed on by our comic-writers, not to finish the character of a Bawd without giving her some pretence to Religion. In _Dryden's_ Wild Gallant, _Mother du Lake_, being about to drink a dram, is made to exclaim, "'Tis a great way to the bottom; but heaven is all-sufficient to give me strength for it." The scene in which this speech occurs, was of use to _Richardson_ in his _Clarissa_, and perhaps to _Foote_, or _Foote's_ original of the character of Mother _Cole_.

[5] So in _Hill's Actor_, pp. 69, 70. "If there be any thing that comes in competition with the unluckiness of this excellent player's figure in this character, it is the appearance he made in his new habit for _Othello_. We are used to see the greatest majesty imaginable expressed throughout that whole part; and though the joke was somewhat prematurely delivered to the publick, we must acknowledge, that his appearance in that tramontane dress made us rather expect to see a tea-kettle in his hand, than to hear the thundering speeches _Shakspeare_ has thrown into that character, come out of his mouth."

[6] See the back ground of this plate, for a circumstance of such unpardonable grossness as admits of no verbal interpretation.

[7] Bishop _Gibson_.

[8] Beat hemp.

2. Rehearsal of the Oratorio of _Judith_. Singing men and boys. Ticket for "A Modern Midnight Conversation." This Oratorio of _Judith_, which was performed in character, was written by Mr. _Huggins_, as has been already observed in p. 187; and the line taken from it,

"The world shall bow to the _Assyrian_ throne,"

inscribed on the book, is a satire on its want of success.--The corner figure looking over the notes, was designed for Mr. _Tothall_.

3. A Midnight Modern Conversation. _W. Hogarth inv. pinx. & sculp. Hogarth_ soon discovered that this engraving was too faintly executed; and therefore, after taking off a few impressions in red as well as black, he retouched and strengthened the plate. Under this print are the following verses:

Think not to find one meant resemblance here, We lash the Vices, but the Persons spare. Prints should be priz'd, as Authors should be read, Who sharply smile prevailing Folly dead. So _Rabilaes_ laught, and so _Cervantes_ thought, So Nature dictated what Art has taught.

Most of the figures, however, are supposed to be real portraits. The Divine and the Lawyer,[1] in particular, are well known to be so.

A pamphlet was published about the same time, under the same title as this plate. In _Banks's_ Poems, vol. I. p. 87. the print is copied as a head-piece to an Epistle to Mr. _Hogarth_, on this performance. In a note, it is said to have appeared after _The Harlot's Progress_; and that in the original, and all the larger copies, on the papers that hang out of the politician's pocket at the end of the table, was written _The Craftsman_, and _The London Journal_.

Of this print a good, but contracted copy, was published (perhaps with _Hogarth's_ permission), and the following copy of verses engraved under it.

The Bacchanalians; or a Midnight Modern Conversation. A Poem addressed to the Ingenious Mr. _Hogarth_.

Sacred to thee, permit this lay Thy labour, _Hogarth_, to display! Patron and theme in one to be! 'Tis great, but not too great for thee; For thee, the Poet's constant friend, Whose vein of humour knows no end. This verse which, honest to thy fame, Has added to thy praise thy name! Who can be dull when to his eyes Such various scenes of humour rise? Now we behold in what unite The Priest, the Beau, the Cit, the Bite; Where Law and Physick join the Sword, And Justice deigns to crown the board: How _Midnight Modern Conversations_ Mingle all faculties and stations!

Full to the sight, and next the bowl, Sits the physician of the soul; No loftier themes his thought pursues Than Punch, good Company, and Dues: Easy and careless what may fall, He hears, consents, and fills to all; Proving it plainly by his face That cassocks are no signs of grace.

Near him a son of _Belial_ see; (That Heav'n and _Satan_ should agree!) Warm'd and wound up to proper height He vows to still maintain the fight, The brave surviving Priest assails, And fairly damns the first that fails; Fills up a bumper to the Best In Christendom, for that's his taste: The parson simpers at the jest, And puts it forward to the rest.

What hand but thine so well could draw A formal Barrister at Law? _Fitzherbert, Littleton,_ and _Coke,_ Are all united in his look. His spacious wig conceals his ears, Yet the dull plodding beast appears. His muscles seem exact to fit Much noise, much pride, and not much wit.

Who then is he with solemn phiz, Upon his elbows pois'd with ease? Freely to speak the Muse is loth-- Justice or knave--he may be both-- Justice or knave--'tis much the same: To boast of crimes, or tell the shame, Of raking talk or reformation, 'Tis all good _Modern Conversation_.

What mighty _Machiavel_ art thou, With patriot cares upon thy brow? Alas, that punch should have the fate To drown the pilot of the state! That while both sides thy pocket holds, Nor _D'Anvers_ grieves, nor _Osborne_ scolds, Thou sink'st the business of the nation In _Midnight Modern Conversation_!

The Tradesman tells with wat'ry eyes How Credit sinks, how Taxes rise; At Parliaments and Great Men pets, Counts all his losses and his debts.

The puny Fop, mankind's disgrace, The ladies' jest and looking-glass; This he-she thing the mode pursues, And drinks in order--till he sp--s.

See where the Relict of the Wars, Deep mark'd with honorary scars, A mightier foe has caus'd to yield Than ever _Marlbro'_ met in field! See prostrate on the earth he lies; And learn, ye soldiers, to be wise.

Flush'd with the fumes of gen'rous wine The Doctor's face begins to shine: With eyes half clos'd, in stamm'ring strain, He speaks the praise of rich champaign. 'Tis dull in verse, what from thy hand Might even a _Cato's_ smile command. Th' expiring snuffs, the bottles broke, And the full bowl at four o'clock.

_March_ 22, 1742, was acted at _Covent-Garden_, a new scene, called _A Modern Midnight Conversation_, taken from _Hogarth's_ celebrated print; in which was introduced, _Hippisley's Drunken Man_, with a comic tale of what really passed between himself and his old aunt, at her house on _Mendip-Hills_, in _Somersetshire_. For Mr. _Hippisley's_ benefit.

[1] These, in my first edition, I had ventured, on popular report, to say were parson _Ford_, and the first Lord _Northington_, when young. But I am now enabled to identify their persons, on the authority of Sir _John Hawkins_: "When the Midnight Modern Conversation came out, the general opinion was, that the Divine was the portrait of Orator _Henley_; and the Lawyer of _Kettleby_, a vociferous bar orator, remarkable, though an utter barrister, for wearing a full-bottom'd wig, which he is here drawn with, as also for a horrible squint."

In that once popular satire, _The Causidicade_, are the following lines on this lawyer:

"Up _Kettleby_ starts with a _horrible stare!_ 'Behold, my good Lord, your old friend at the bar, Or rather old foe, for foes we have been, As treason fell out, and poor traitors fell in. Strong opposites e'er, and not once of a side, Attornies will always great counsel divide. You _for_ persecutions, I always _against_, How oft with a joke 'gainst your law have I fenc'd? How oft in your pleadings I've pick'd out a hole, Thro' which from your pounces my culprit I've stole; I've puzzled against you now eight years or nine, You, my Lord, for your King, I a ----l for mine. But what is all this? Now your Lordship will say, To get at the office this is not the way. I own it is not, so I make no request For myself, still firm to my party and test: But if 'tis your pleasure to give it my son, He shall take off his coif t'accept of the boon; That coif I, refusing, transferr'd upon him, For who'd be a serjeant where _P----r_ was Prime? That my son is a lawyer no one can gainsay, As witness his getting off _W----te_ t'other day.' Quo' my Lord, 'My friend _Abel_, I needs must allow You have puzzled me oft, as indeed you do now; Nay, have puzzled yourself, the court and the law, And chuckled most wittily over a flaw; For your nostrums, enigmas, conundrums, and puns, Are above comprehension, save that of your son's. To fling off the coif! Oh fye, my friend _Abel_, 'Twould be acting the part of the Cock in the Fable! 'Tis a badge of distinction! and some people buy it; Can you doubt on't, when _Skinner_ and _Hayward_ enjoy it? Tho' I own you have spoil'd (but I will not enlarge on't) A good Chancery draftsman to make a bad Serjeant.'"

Lord _Northington_ did not come into notice till many years after the publication of this print.

* * * * *

1735.

1. The Rake's Progress, in eight plates.

Extract from the _London Daily Post, May_ 14, 1735:

"The nine prints from the paintings of Mr. _Hogarth_, one representing a Fair, and the others a Rake's Progress, are now printing off, and will be ready to be delivered on the 25th of _June_ next.

"Subscriptions will be taken at Mr. _Hogarth's_, the _Golden-Head_, in _Leicester-fields_, till the 23d of _June_, and no longer, at half a guinea to be paid on subscribing, and half a guinea more on delivery of the prints at the price above-mentioned, after which the price will be two guineas.

"N. B. Mr. _Hogarth_ was, and is, obliged to defer the publication and delivery of the abovesaid prints till the 25th of _June_ next, in order to secure his property, pursuant to an act lately passed both houses of parliament, now waiting for the royal assent, to secure all new invented prints that shall be published after the 24th of _June_ next, from being copied without consent of the proprietor, and thereby preventing a scandalous and unjust custom (hitherto practised with impunity) of making and vending base copies of original prints, to the manifest injury of the author, and the great discouragement of the arts of painting and engraving."

In _The Craftsman_, soon afterwards, appeared the following advertisement:

"Pursuant to an agreement with the subscribers to the Rake's Progress, not to sell them for less than two guineas each set after publication thereof, the said original prints are to be had at Mr. _Hogarth's_, the _Golden-Head_, in _Leicester-fields_; and at _Tho. Bakewell's_, print-seller, next _Johnson's Court_, in _Fleet-street_, where all other print-sellers may be supplied.

"In four days will be published, copies from the said prints, with the consent of Mr. _Hogarth_, according to the act of parliament, which will be sold at 2 _s._ 6 _d._ each set, with the usual allowance to all dealers in town and country; and, that the the publick may not be imposed on, at the bottom of each print will be inserted these words, _viz._ 'Published with the consent of Mr. _William Hogarth_, by _Tho. Bakewell_, according to act of parliament.'

"N. B. Any person that shall sell any other copies, or imitations of the said prints, will incur the penalties in the late act of parliament, and be prosecuted for the same."

This series of plates, however, as Mr. _Walpole_ observes, was pirated by _Boitard_ on one very large sheet of paper, containing the several scenes represented by _Hogarth_. It came out a fortnight before the genuine set, but was soon forgotten. The principal variations in these prints are the following:

Plate I. The girl's face who holds the ring is erased, and a worse is put in.[1] The mother's head, &c. is lessened. The shoe-sole, cut from the cover of an ancient family Bible, together with a chest, is added; the memorandum-book removed into another place; the woollen-draper's shop bill,[2] appended to a roll of black cloth, omitted; the contents of the closet thrown more into shade.

In Plate II. are portraits of _Figg_, the prize-fighter;[3] _Bridgeman_, a noted gardener; and _Dubois_, a master of defence, who was killed in a duel by one of the same name, as the following paragraphs in _The Grub-street Journal_ for _May_ 16, 1734, &c. will testify: "Yesterday (_May_ 11) between two and three in the afternoon, a duel was fought in _Mary-le-bone Fields_, between Mr. _Dubois_ a _Frenchman_, and Mr. _Dubois_ an _Irishman_, both fencing-masters, the former of whom was run through the body, but walked a considerable way from the place, and is now under the hands of an able surgeon, who has great hopes of his recovery."

_May_ 23, 1734, "Yesterday morning died Mr. _Dubois_, of a wound he received in a duel."

The portrait of _Handel_ has been supposed to be represented in the plate before us; but "this," as Sir _John Hawkins_ observes to me, "is too much to say. Mr. _Handel_ had a higher sense of his own merit than ever to put himself in such a situation; and, if so, the painter would hardly have thought of doing it. The musician must mean in general any composer of operas." On the floor lies a picture representing _Farinelli_, seated on a pedestal, with an altar before him, on which are several flaming hearts, near which stand a number of people with their arms extended, offering him presents: at the foot of the altar is one female kneeling, tendering her heart. From her mouth a label issues, inscribed, "One God, one _Farinelli_;" alluding to a lady of distinction, who, being charmed with a particular passage in one of his songs, uttered aloud from the boxes that impious exclamation. On the figure of the captain, _Rouquet_ has the following remark: "Ce caractere ne paroit plus _Italien_ qu'_Anglois_." I am not sufficiently versed in _Alsatian_ annals to decide on the question; but believe that the bully by profession (not assassin, as _Rouquet_ seems to interpret the character) was to be found during the youth of our artist. More have heard and been afraid of these vulgar heroes, than ever met with them. This set of prints was engraved by _Scotin_ chiefly; but several of the faces were touched upon by _Hogarth_. In the second plate the countenance of the man with the quarter-staves was wholly engraved by _Hogarth_. In some early proofs of the print, there is not a single feature on this man's face; there is no writing either in the musician's book, or on the label; nor is there the horse-race cup, the letter, or the poem that lies at the end of the label, that being entirely blank. I mention these circumstances to shew that our artist would not entrust particular parts of his work to any hand but his own; or perhaps he had neither determined on the countenance or the inscription he meant to introduce, till the plate was far advanced. With unfinished proofs, on any other account, this catalogue has nothing to do. As the rudiments of plates, they may afford instruction to young engravers; or add a fancied value to the collections of connoisseurs.

In the third plate is _Leather-coat_,[4] a noted porter belonging to _The Rose_ Tavern, with a large pewter dish in his hand, which for many years served as a sign to the shop of a pewterer on _Snow-Hill_. In this utensil the posture-woman, who is undressing, used to whirl herself round, and display other feats of indecent activity: "II suffit" (I transcribe from _Rouquet_, who is more circumstantial) "de vous laisser à deviner la destination de la chandelle. Ce grand plat va servir a cette femme comme à une poularde. Il sera mis au milieu de la table; elle s'y placera sur le dos; et l'ivresse et l'esprit de débauche feront trouver plaisant un jeu, qui de sang-froid ne le paroit guères." _Rouquet_, in his description of an _English_ tavern, such as that in which our scene lies, mentions the following as extraordinary conveniencies and articles of magnificence: "Du linge toujours blanc[5]--de tables de bois qu'on appelle ici mahogani--grand feu et gratis." Variations: _Pontac's_ head is added in the room of a mutilated _Cæsar_. Principal woman has a man's hat on. Rake's head altered. Undrest woman's head altered. Woman who spirts the wine, and she who threatens her with a drawn knife, have lower caps, &c.

So entirely do our manners differ from those of fifty years ago, that I much question if at present, in all the taverns of _London_, any thing resembling the scene here exhibited by _Hogarth_ could be found. That we are less sensual than our predecessors, I do not affirm; but may with truth observe, we are more delicate in pursuit of our gratifications.--No young man, of our hero's fortune and education, would now think of entertaining half a score of prostitutes at a tavern, after having routed a set of feeble wretches, who are idly called our Guardians of the Night.

Plate IV. _Rakewell_ is going to court on the first of _March_, which was Queen _Caroline's_ birth-day, as well as the anniversary of _St. David_. In the early impressions a shoe-black steals the Rake's cane. In the modern ones, a large group of blackguards[6] [the chimney-sweeper peeping over the poll boy's cards, and discovering that he has two honours, by holding up two fingers, is among the luckiest of _Hogarth's_ traits] are introduced gambling on the pavement; near them a stone inscribed BLACK'S, a contrast to _White's_ gaming-house, against which a flash of lightning is pointed. The curtain in the window of the sedan chair is thrown back. This plate is likewise found in an intermediate state;[7] the sky being made unnaturally obscure, with an attempt to introduce a shower of rain, and lightning very aukwardly represented. It is supposed to be a first proof after the insertion of the group of black-guard gamesters; the window of the chair being only marked for an alteration that was afterwards made in it. _Hogarth_ appears to have so far spoiled the sky, that he was obliged to obliterate it, and cause it to be engraved over again by another hand.[8] Not foreseeing, however, the immense demand for his prints, many of them were so slightly executed, as very early to stand in need of retouching. The seventh in particular was so much more slightly executed than the rest, that it sooner wanted renovation, and is therefore to be found in three different states. The rest appear only in two.

In Plate V. is his favourite dog _Trump_. In this, also the head of the maid-servant is greatly altered, and the leg and foot of the bridegroom omitted.

From the antiquated bride, and the young female adjusting the folds of her gown, in this plate, is taken a _French_ print of a wrinkled harridan of fashion at her toilet, attended by a blooming coëffeuse. It was engraved by _L. Surugue_ in 1745, from a picture in crayons by _Coypel_, and is entitled, _La Folie pare la Decrepitude des ajustemens de la Jeunesse_. From the _Frenchman_, however, the _Devonshire-square_ dowager of our artist has received so high a polish, that she might be mistaken for a queen mother of _France_.

Mr. _Gilpin_, in his remarks on this plate, appears not to have fully comprehended the extent of the satire designed in it. Speaking of the church, he observes, that "the wooden post, which seems to have no use, divides the picture disagreeably." _Hogarth_, however, meant to expose the insufficiency of such ecclesiastical repairs as are confided to the superintendance of parish-officers. We learn, from an inscription on the front of a pew, that "This church was beautified in the Year 1725. _Tho. Sice, Tho. Horn,_ Churchwardens."[9] The print before us came out in 1735 (i. e. only ten years afterwards), and by that time the building might have been found in the condition here exhibited, and have required a prop to prevent part of its roof from falling in.--As a proof that this edifice was really in a ruinous state, it was pulled down and rebuilt in the year 1741.

Fifty years ago, _Marybone_ church was considered at such a distance from _London_, as to become the usual resort of those who, like our hero, wished to be privately married.

In Plate VI. the fire breaking out, alludes to the same accident which happened at _White's, May_ 3, 1733. I learn from a very indifferent poem descriptive of this set of plates (the title is unfortunately wanting), that some of the characters in the scene before us were real ones:

"But see the careful plain old man, _M----_[10], well-known youth to trepan, To _C------sh_[11] lend the dear bought pence, _C------sh_ quite void of common sense, Whose face, unto his soul a sign, Looks stupid, as does that within. A quarrel from behind ensues, The sure retreat of those that lose. An honest _'Squire_ smells the cheat, And swears the villain shall be beat: But _G----dd_ wisely interferes, And dissipates the wretch's fears."

The original sketch in oil for this scene is at Mrs. _Hogarth's_ house in _Leicester-fields_. The principal character was then sitting, and not, as he is at present, thrown upon his knees in the act of execration.

The thought of the losing gamester pulling his hat over his brows is adopted from a similar character to be found among the figures of the principal personages in the court of _Louis_ XIV. folio. This work has no engraver's name, but was probably executed about the year 1700.

Plate VII. The celebrated _Beccaria_, in his "Essay on Public Happiness," vol. II. p. 172, observes, "I am sensible there are persons whom it will be difficult for me to persuade: I mean those profound contemplators, who, secluding themselves from their fellow-creatures, are assiduously employed in framing laws for them, and who frequently neglect the care of their domestic and private concerns, to prescribe to empires that form of government, to which they imagine that they ought to submit. The celebrated _Hogarth_ hath represented, in one of his moral engravings, a young man who, after having squandered away his fortune, is, by his creditors, lodged in a gaol. There he sits, melancholy and disconcerted, near a table, whilst a scroll lies under his feet, and bears the following title: 'being a new scheme for paying the debt of the nation. By _T. L._ now a prisoner in _The Fleet_.'"

The Author of the poem already quoted, intimates that the personage in the night-gown was meant for some real character:

"His wig was full as old as he, In which one curl you could not see. His neckcloth loose, his beard full grown, An old torn night-gown not his own. _L------_, great schemist, that can pay, The nation's debt an easy way."