"Oh, vanity of age untoward!
Ever spleeny, ever froward!
Why these bolts and massy chains,
Squint suspicions, jealous pains?
Why, thy toilsome journey o'er,
Lay'st thou up an useless store?
Hope along with Time is flown;
Nor canst thou reap the field thou'st sown.
Had'st thou a son? In time be wise;
He views thy toil with other eyes.
Needs must thy kind paternal care,
Lock'd in thy chests, be buried there?
Whence, then, shall flow that friendly ease,
That social converse, heartfelt peace,
Familiar duty without dread,
Instruction from example bred,
Which youthful minds with freedom mend,
And with the father mix the friend.
Uncircumscrib'd by prudent rules,
Or precepts of expensive schools;
Abus'd at home, abroad despis'd,
Unbred, unletter'd, unadvis'd;
The headstrong course of life begun,
What comfort from thy darling son?"
--HOADLEY.[65]
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS, PLATE I.]
In the last series of prints Mr. Hogarth delineated, with a master's
hand, the miseries attendant upon a female's deviation from virtue.
In this he presents to us the picture of a young man, thoughtless,
extravagant, and licentious; and, in colours equally impressive,
paints the destructive consequences of his conduct. The first print
most forcibly contrasts two opposite passions,--the unthinking
negligence of youth, and the sordid avaricious rapacity of age. It
brings into one point of view what Mr. Pope so exquisitely describes
in his Epistle to Lord Bathurst:
"Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store,
Sees but a backward steward for the poor;
This year a reservoir, to keep and spare;
The next a fountain, spouting through his heir."
It represents a young man taking possession of a rich miser's
effects, and is crowded with the monuments of departed avarice.
Everything, valuable or not valuable, has been hoarded. A chest of
old plate, an old coat, a worn-out boot, and the caul of a periwig,
are preserved with equal care. The thread-bare garments are hung up;
the rusty spur put into a closet; and even a spectacle-frame, without
glasses, is thought worthy of preservation. The contents of his
armoury are curious, and valuable as the lumbering furniture of his
room: they consist of two swords, which may be considered as trophies
of his youthful prowess, or protectors of his cankered pelf.
The crutch and walking-stick, those unequal supporters of his
feeble frame, now lean unheeded against the wall. His fur cap and
greatcoat seem to have been winter substitutes for fire, as the grate
in which a withered _Sibyl_ is laying wood has no marks of even a
remaining cinder. The remnant of candle in a save-all, the Jack taken
down as an useless piece of furniture, and, with the spit, hoisted
into a high cupboard, give strong indications of the manner in which
this votary of Mammon existed, for such a being could scarcely be
said to live. The gaunt appearance of an half-starved cat proves not
only the rigid abstinence practised by this wretched slave to his
wealth, but that in his miserable mansion
"No mouse e'er lurk'd, no rat e'er sought for food."
The iron-bound chests, the hidden gold falling from the breaking
cornice, and indeed every article that is displayed in this dreary
tomb of buried wealth, give additional marks of a suspicious and
sordid disposition. The picture of a miser counting his gold; the
escutcheons, those gloomy ornaments of departed wretchedness,
with the armorial bearings of avarice, three vices hard screwed,
are adjuncts highly appropriate to the place; the motto, BEWARE,
inscribed under the arms, is a well-directed caution, and ought
to be seriously considered by those who feel a propensity to this
meanest of passions. An old shoe, soled with the cover of a Bible,
and the little memorandum, _May 5th, 1721, put off my bad shilling_,
are strong proofs that extreme avarice destroys all reverence for
religion, and eradicates every principle of honesty.
The introduction to this history is well delineated, and the
principal figure marked with that easy, unmeaning vacancy of face
which speaks him formed by nature for a DUPE. Ignorant of the value
of money, and negligent in his nature, he leaves his bag of untold
gold in the reach of an old and greedy pettifogging attorney,[66]
who is making an inventory of bonds, mortgages, indentures, etc.
This man, with the rapacity so natural to his profession, seizes the
first opportunity of plundering his employer. Hogarth had a few years
before been engaged in a lawsuit, which gave him some experience of
the PRACTICE of those pests of society.
The figure of the young woman with a wedding-ring is not alluring,
neither is her face attractive; but her being pregnant, and
accompanied by her mother with an apron full of letters, gives her a
claim to our pity, as it clearly intimates that this is meant as a
visit to entreat the promised hand of her seducer; but he violates
every former protestation, refuses her marriage, and attempts by a
bribe to get a release from the obligation. Her mother violently
reproaches him for his conduct, and invokes the curses of offended
Heaven upon his falsehood.
In this print the drawing and disposition of the figures are
tolerably good, the light is properly distributed, and the
perspective accurately represented; but the whole wants _mass_. To
display the hoards, it was necessary to open the boxes and doors; and
though an exhibition of the heterogeneous collection heaped together
by this wretched defrauder of himself most forcibly describes the
disposition of the man, it hurts the _repose_ of the picture.
Breaking the background into so many parts, destroys that breadth
which ought to be considered as a leading excellence.