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[Illustration: WILLIAM HOGARTH.]
THE
WORKS
OF
WILLIAM HOGARTH;
IN A
SERIES OF ENGRAVINGS:
WITH
DESCRIPTIONS,
AND
A COMMENT ON THEIR MORAL TENDENCY,
BY THE
REV. JOHN TRUSLER.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED,
ANECDOTES OF THE AUTHOR AND HIS WORKS,
BY J. HOGARTH AND J. NICHOLS.
London:
PUBLISHED BY JONES AND CO.
TEMPLE OF THE MUSES, (LATE LACKINGTON'S,) FINSBURY SQUARE.
1833.
C. BAYNES, PRINTER, 13 DUKE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.
THE LIFE OF HOGARTH.
William Hogarth is said to have been the descendant of a family
originally from Kirby Thore, in Westmorland.
His grandfather was a plain yeoman, who possessed a small tenement in
the vale of Bampton, a village about fifteen miles north of Kendal, in
that county; and had three sons.
The eldest assisted his father in farming, and succeeded to his little
freehold.
The second settled in Troutbeck, a village eight miles north west of
Kendal, and was remarkable for his talent at provincial poetry.
Richard Hogarth, the third son, who was educated at St. Bees, and had
kept a school in the same county, appears to have been a man of some
learning. He came early to London, where he resumed his original
occupation of a schoolmaster, in Ship-court in the Old Bailey, and was
occasionally employed as a corrector of the press.
Mr. Richard Hogarth married in London; and our artist, and his sisters,
Mary and Anne, are believed to have been the only product of the
marriage.
William Hogarth was born November 10, and baptised Nov. 28, 1697, in the
parish of St. Bartholomew the Great, in London; to which parish, it is
said, in the Biographia Britannica, he was afterwards a benefactor.
The school of Hogarth's father, in 1712, was in the parish of St.
Martin, Ludgate. In the register of that parish, therefore, the date of
his death, it was natural to suppose, might be found; but the register
has been searched to no purpose.
Hogarth seems to have received no other education than that of a
mechanic, and his outset in life was unpropitious. Young Hogarth was
bound apprentice to a silversmith (whose name was Gamble) of some
eminence; by whom he was confined to that branch of the trade, which
consists in engraving arms and cyphers upon the plate. While thus
employed, he gradually acquired some knowledge of drawing; and, before
his apprenticeship expired, he exhibited talent for caricature. "He felt
the impulse of genius, and that it directed him to painting, though
little apprised at that time of the mode Nature had intended he should
pursue."
The following circumstance gave the first indication of the talents with
which Hogarth afterwards proved himself to be so liberally endowed.
During his apprenticeship, he set out one Sunday, with two or three
companions, on an excursion to Highgate. The weather being hot, they
went into a public-house; where they had not long been, before a quarrel
arose between some persons in the same room; from words they soon got to
blows, and the quart pots being the only missiles at hand, were sent
flying about the room in glorious confusion. This was a scene too
laughable for Hogarth to resist. He drew out his pencil, and produced on
the spot one of the most ludicrous pieces that ever was seen; which
exhibited likenesses not only of the combatants engaged in the affray,
but also of the persons gathered round them, placed in grotesque
attitudes, and heightened with character and points of humour.
On the expiration of his apprenticeship, he entered into the academy in
St. Martin's Lane, and studied drawing from the life: but in this his
proficiency was inconsiderable; nor would he ever have surpassed
_mediocrity_ as a painter, if he had not penetrated through external
form to character and manners. "It was character, passions, the soul,
that his genius was given him to copy."
The engraving of arms and shop-bills seems to have been his first
employment by which to obtain a decent livelihood. He was, however, soon
engaged in decorating books, and furnished sets of plates for several
publications of the time. An edition of _Hudibras_ afforded him the
first subject suited to his genius: yet he felt so much the shackles of
other men's ideas, that he was less successful in this task than might
have been expected. In the mean time, he had acquired the use of the
brush, as well as of the pen and graver; and, possessing a singular
facility in seizing a likeness, he acquired considerable employment as a
portrait-painter. Shortly after his marriage, he informs us that he
commenced painter of small conversation pieces, from twelve to fifteen
inches in height; the novelty of which caused them to succeed for a few
years. One of the earliest productions of this kind, which distinguished
him as a painter, is supposed to have been a representation of Wanstead
Assembly; the figures in it were drawn from the life, and without
burlesque. The faces were said to bear great likenesses to the persons
so drawn, and to be rather better coloured than some of his more
finished performances. Grace, however, was no attribute of his pencil;
and he was more disposed to aggravate, than to soften the harsh touches
of Nature.
A curious anecdote is recorded of our artist during the early part of
his practice as a portrait painter. A nobleman, who was uncommonly ugly
and deformed, sat for his picture, which was executed in his happiest
manner, and with singularly rigid fidelity. The peer, disgusted at this
counterpart of his dear self, was not disposed very readily to pay for a
reflector that would only insult him with his deformities. After some
time had elapsed, and numerous unsuccessful applications had been made
for payment, the painter resorted to an expedient, which he knew must
alarm the nobleman's pride. He sent him the following card:--"Mr.
Hogarth's dutiful respects to Lord----; finding that he does not mean to
have the picture which was drawn for him, is informed again of Mr.
Hogarth's pressing necessities for the money. If, therefore, his
lordship does not send for it in three days, it will be disposed of,
with the addition of a tail and some other appendages, to _Mr. Hare, the
famous wild beast man_; Mr. H. having given that gentleman a conditional
promise on his lordship's refusal." This intimation had its desired
effect; the picture was paid for, and committed to the flames.
Hogarth's talents, however, for original comic design, gradually
unfolded themselves, and various public occasions produced displays of
his ludicrous powers.
In the year 1730, he clandestinely married the only daughter of Sir
James Thornhill, the painter, who was not easily reconciled to her union
with an obscure artist, as Hogarth then comparatively was. Shortly
after, he commenced his first great series of moral paintings, "The
Harlot's Progress:" some of these were, at Lady Thornhill's suggestion,
designedly placed by Mrs. Hogarth in her father's way, in order to
reconcile him to her marriage. Being informed by whom they were
executed, Sir James observed, "The man who can produce such
representations as these, can also maintain a wife without a portion."
He soon after, however, relented, and became generous to the young
couple, with whom he lived in great harmony until his death, which took
place in 1733.
In 1733 his genius became conspicuously known. The third scene of "The
Harlot's Progress" introduced him to the notice of the great: at a Board
of Treasury, (which was held a day or two after the appearance of that
print), a copy of it was shown by one of the lords, as containing, among
other excellences, a striking likeness of Sir John Gonson, a celebrated
magistrate of that day, well known for his rigour towards women of the
town. From the Treasury each lord repaired to the print-shop for a copy
of it, and Hogarth rose completely into fame.
Upwards of twelve hundred subscribers entered their names for the
plates, which were copied and imitated on fan mounts, and in a variety
of other forms; and a pantomime taken from them was represented at the
theatre. This performance, together with several subsequent ones of a
similar kind, have placed Hogarth in the rare class of original geniuses
and inventors. He may be said to have created an entirely new species of
painting, which may be termed the _moral comic_; and may be considered
rather as a writer of comedy with a pencil, than as a painter. If
catching the manners and follies of an age, _living as they rise_--if
general satire on vices,--and ridicule familiarised by strokes of
Nature, and heightened by wit,--and the whole animated by proper and
just expressions of the passions,--be comedy, Hogarth composed comedies
as much as Moliere.
Soon after his marriage, Hogarth resided at South Lambeth; and being
intimate with Mr. Tyers, the then spirited proprietor of Vauxhall
Gardens, he contributed much to the improvement of those gardens; and
first suggested the hint of embellishing them with paintings, some of
which were the productions of his own comic pencil. Among the paintings
were "The Four Parts of the Day," either by Hogarth, or after his
designs.
Two years after the publication of his "Harlot's Progress," appeared the
"Rake's Progress," which, Lord Orford remarks, (though perhaps
superior,) "had not so much success, for want of notoriety: nor is the
print of the Arrest equal in merit to the others." The curtain, however,
was now drawn aside, and his genius stood displayed in its full lustre.
The Rake's Progress was followed by several works in series, viz.
"Marriage a-la-Mode, Industry and Idleness, the Stages of Cruelty, and
Election Prints." To these may be added, a great number of single comic
pieces, all of which present a rich source of amusement:--such as, "The
March to Finchley, Modern Midnight Conversation, the Sleeping
Congregation, the Gates of Calais, Gin Lane, Beer Street, Strolling
Players in a Barn, the Lecture, Laughing Audience, Enraged Musician,"
&c. &c. which, being introduced and described in the subsequent part of
this work, it would far exceed the limits, necessarily assigned to these
brief memoirs, _here_ minutely to characterise.
All the works of this original genius are, in fact, lectures of
morality. They are satires of particular vices and follies, expressed
with such strength of character, and such an accumulation of minute and
appropriate circumstances, that they have all the truth of Nature
heightened by the attractions of wit and fancy. Nothing is without a
meaning, but all either conspires to the great end, or forms an addition
to the lively drama of human manners. His single pieces, however, are
rather to be considered as studies, not perhaps for the professional
artist, but for the searcher into life and manners, and for the votaries
of true humour and ridicule. No _furniture_ of the kind can vie with
Hogarth's prints, as a fund of inexhaustible amusement, yet conveying at
the same time lessons of morality.
Not contented, however, with the just reputation which he had acquired
in his proper department, Hogarth attempted to shine in the highest
branch of the art,--serious history-painting. "From a contempt," says
Lord Orford, "of the ignorant virtuosi of the age, 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, or 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 proposition 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 Sigismonda of Sir Luke Schaub, now in the
possession of the Duke of Newcastle, said to be painted by Correggio,
probably by Furino."--"It is impossible to see the picture," (continues
his lordship,) "or read Dryden's inimitable tale, and not feel that the
same soul animated both. After many essays, Hogarth at last produced
_his_ Sigismonda,--but no more like Sigismonda than I to Hercules."
Notwithstanding Hogarth professed to decry literature, he felt an
inclination to communicate to the public his ideas on a topic connected
with his art. His "Analysis of Beauty" made its appearance in one volume
quarto, in the year 1753. Its leading principle is, that beauty
fundamentally consists in that union of uniformity which is found in the
curve or waving line; and that round swelling figures are most pleasing
to the eye. This principle he illustrates by many ingenious remarks and
examples, and also by some plates characteristic of his genius.
In the year 1757, his brother-in-law, Mr. Thornhill, resigned his office
of king's serjeant-painter in favour of Hogarth, who received his
appointment on the 6th of June, and entered on his functions on the 16th
of July, both in the same year. This place was re-granted to him by a
warrant of George the Third, which bears date the 30th October, 1761,
with a salary of ten pounds per annum, payable quarterly.
This connexion with the court probably induced Hogarth to deviate from
the strict line of party neutrality which he had hitherto observed, and
to engage against Mr. Wilkes and his friends, in a print published in
September, 1762, entitled _The Times_. This publication provoked some
severe strictures from Wilkes's pen, in a North Briton (No. 17.) Hogarth
replied by a caricature of the writer: a rejoinder was put in by
Churchill, in an angry epistle to Hogarth (not the brightest of his
works); and in which the severest strokes fell on a defect the painter
had not caused, and could not amend--his age; which, however, was
neither remarkable nor decrepit; much less had it impaired his talents:
for, only six months before, he had produced one of his most capital
works. In revenge for this epistle, Hogarth caricatured Churchill, under
the form of a canonical bear, with a club and a pot of porter.
During this period of warfare (so virulent and disgraceful to all the
parties), Hogarth's health visibly declined. In 1762, he complained of
an internal pain, the continuance of which produced a general decay of
the system, that proved incurable; and, on the 25th of October, 1764,
(having been previously conveyed in a very weak and languid state from
Chiswick to Leicester Fields,) he died suddenly, of an aneurism in his
chest, in the sixty-seventh or sixty-eighth year of his age. His remains
were interred at Chiswick, beneath a plain but neat mausoleum, with the
following elegant inscription by his friend Garrick:--
"Farewell, great painter of mankind,
Who reach'd the noblest point of art;
Whose pictured 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 honour'd dust lies here."
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS.
VOL. I.
RAKE'S PROGRESS.
Page
PLATE 1 Heir taking Possession 11
" 2 Surrounded by Artists 13
" 3 Tavern Scene 15
" 4 Arrested for Debt 17
" 5 Marries an Old Maid 19
" 6 Gaming House 21
" 7 Prison Scene 23
" 8 Mad House 25
The Distressed Poet 27
The Bench 29
The Laughing Audience 31
Gate of Calais 33
The Politician 35
Taste in High Life 37
HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 1 39
" 2 41
" 3 43
" 4 45
" 5 47
" 6 49
The Lecture 51
The Chorus 53
Columbus breaking the Egg 55
Modern Midnight Conversation 57
Consultation of Physicians 59
Portrait of Daniel Lock, Esq. 61
The Enraged Musician 63
Masquerades and Operas 65
TIMES OF THE DAY.
Morning 67
Noon 69
Evening 71
Night 73
Sigismonda 75
Portrait of Martin Fowkes, Esq. 77
The Cockpit 78
Captain Thomas Coram 81
Country Inn Yard 83
INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS.
PLATE 1 85
" 2 87
" 3 89
" 4 91
" 5 93
" 6 95
" 7 97
" 8 99
" 9 101
" 10 103
" 11 105
" 12 107
Southwark Fair. 109
Garrick as Richard III. 111
FRANCE AND ENGLAND.
PLATE 1 France 113
" 2 England 115
HOGARTH'S WORKS.
THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
Of all the follies in human life, there is none greater than that of
extravagance, or profuseness; it being constant labour, without the
least ease or relaxation. It bears, indeed, the colour of that which is
commendable, and would fain be thought to take its rise from laudable
motives, searching indefatigably after true felicity; now as there can
be no true felicity without content, it is this which every man is in
constant pursuit of; the learned, for instance, in his industrious quest
after knowledge; the merchant, in his dangerous voyages; the ambitious,
in his passionate pursuit of honour; the conqueror, in his earnest
desire of victory; the politician, in his deep-laid designs; the wanton,
in his pleasing charms of beauty; the covetous, in his unwearied
heaping-up of treasure; and the prodigal, in his general and extravagant
indulgence.--Thus far it may be well;--but, so mistaken are we in our
road, as to run on in the very opposite tract, which leads directly to
our ruin. Whatever else we indulge ourselves in, is attended with some
small degree of relish, and has some trifling satisfaction in the
enjoyment, but, in this, the farther we go, the more we are lost; and
when arrived at the mark proposed, we are as far from the object we
pursue, as when we first set out. Here then, are we inexcusable, in not
attending to the secret dictates of reason, and in stopping our ears at
the timely admonitions of friendship. Headstrong and ungovernable, we
pursue our course without intermission; thoughtless and unwary, we see
not the dangers that lie immediately before us; but hurry on, even
without sight of our object, till we bury ourselves in that gulf of
woe, where perishes at once, health, wealth and virtue, and whose
dreadful labyrinths admit of no return.
Struck with the foresight of that misery, attendant on a life of
debauchery, which is, in fact, the offspring of prodigality, our author
has, in the scenes before us, attempted the reformation of the
worldling, by stopping him as it were in his career, and opening to his
view the many sad calamities awaiting the prosecution of his proposed
scheme of life; he has, in hopes of reforming the prodigal, and at the
same time deterring the rising generation, whom Providence may have
blessed with earthly wealth, from entering into so iniquitous a course,
exhibited the life of a young man, hurried on through a succession of
profligate pursuits, for the few years Nature was able to support
itself; and this from the instant he might be said to enter into the
world, till the time of his leaving it. But, as the vice of avarice is
equal to that of prodigality, and the ruin of children is often owing to
the indiscretion of their parents, he has opened the piece with a scene,
which, at the same time that it exposes the folly of the youth, shews us
the imprudence of the father, who is supposed to have hurt the
principles of his son, in depriving him of the necessary use of some
portion of that gold, he had with penurious covetousness been hoarding
up, for the sole purpose of lodging in his coffers.
PLATE I.
THE YOUNG HEIR TAKING POSSESSION.
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.
Hast 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_?
Uncircumscribed by prudent rules,
Or precepts of expensive schools;
Abused at home, abroad despised,
Unbred, unletter'd, unadvised;
The headstrong course of life begun,
What comfort from thy darling son?
HOADLEY.
The history opens, representing a scene crowded with all the monuments
of avarice, and laying before us a most beautiful contrast, such as is
too general in the world, to pass unobserved; nothing being more common
than for a son to prodigally squander away that substance his father
had, with anxious solicitude, his whole life been amassing.--Here, we
see the young heir, at the age of nineteen or twenty, raw from the
University, just arrived at home, upon the death of his father. Eager to
know the possessions he is master of, the old wardrobes, where things
have been rotting time out of mind, are instantly wrenched open; the
strong chests are unlocked; the parchments, those securities of treble
interest, on which this avaricious monster lent his money, tumbled out;
and the bags of gold, which had long been hoarded, with griping care,
now exposed to the pilfering hands of those about him. To explain every
little mark of usury and covetousness, such as the mortgages, bonds,
indentures, &c. the piece of candle stuck on a save-all, on the
mantle-piece; the rotten furniture of the room, and the miserable
contents of the dusty wardrobe, would be unnecessary: we shall only
notice the more striking articles. From the vast quantity of papers,
falls an old written journal, where, among other memorandums, we find
the following, viz. "May the 5th, 1721. Put off my bad shilling." Hence,
we learn, the store this penurious miser set on this trifle: that so
penurious is the disposition of the miser, that notwithstanding he may
be possessed of many large bags of gold, the fear of losing a single
shilling is a continual trouble to him. In one part of the room, a man
is hanging it with black cloth, on which are placed escutcheons, by way
of dreary ornament; these escutcheons contain the arms of the covetous,
_viz._ three vices, hard screwed, with the motto, "BEWARE!" On the
floor, lie a pair of old shoes, which this sordid wretch is supposed to
have long preserved for the weight of iron in the nails, and has been
soling with leather cut from the covers of an old Family Bible; an
excellent piece of satire, intimating, that such men would sacrifice
even their God to the lust of money. From these and some other objects
too striking to pass unnoticed, such as the gold falling from the
breaking cornice; the jack and spit, those utensils of original
hospitality, locked up, through fear of being used; the clean and empty
chimney, in which a fire is just now going to be made for the first
time; and the emaciated figure of the cat, strongly mark the natural
temper of the late miserly inhabitant, who could starve in the midst of
plenty.--But see the mighty change! View the hero of our piece, left to
himself, upon the death of his father, possessed of a goodly
inheritance. Mark how his mind is affected!--determined to partake of
the mighty happiness he falsely imagines others of his age and fortune
enjoy; see him running headlong into extravagance, withholding not his
heart from any joy; but implicitly pursuing the dictates of his will. To
commence this delusive swing of pleasure, his first application is to
the tailor, whom we see here taking his measure, in order to trick out
his pretty person. In the interim, enters a poor girl (with her mother),
whom our hero has seduced, under professions of love and promises of
marriage; in hopes of meeting with that kind welcome she had the
greatest reason to expect; but he, corrupted with the wealth of which he
is now the master, forgets every engagement he once made, finds himself
too rich to keep his word; and, as if gold would atone for a breach of
honour, is offering money to her mother, as an equivalent for the
non-fulfilling of his promise. Not the sight of the ring, given as a
pledge of his fidelity; not a view of the many affectionate letters he
at one time wrote to her, of which her mother's lap is full; not the
tears, nor even the pregnant condition of the wretched girl, could
awaken in him one spark of tenderness; but, hard hearted and unfeeling,
like the generality of wicked men, he suffers her to weep away her woes
in silent sorrow, and curse with bitterness her deceitful betrayer. One
thing more we shall take notice of, which is, that this unexpected
visit, attended with abuse from the mother, so engages the attention of
our youth, as to give the old pettifogger behind him an opportunity of
robbing him. Hence we see that one ill consequence is generally attended
with another; and that misfortunes, according to the old proverb, seldom
come alone.
Mr. Ireland remarks of this plate--"He here 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.'
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, who is
making an inventory of bonds, mortgages, indentures, &c. This man,
with the rapacity so natural to those who disgrace the profession,
seizes the first opportunity of plundering his employer. Hogarth
had, a few years before, been engaged in a law suit, which gave him
some experience of the PRACTICE of those pests of society."
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 1.
THE YOUNG HERO TAKES POSSESSION OF THE MISER'S EFFECTS.]
PLATE II.
SURROUNDED BY ARTISTS AND PROFESSORS.
_Prosperity_ (with harlot's smiles,
Most pleasing when she most beguiles),
How soon, great foe, can all thy train
Of false, gay, frantic, loud, and vain,
Enter the unprovided mind,
And memory in fetters bind?
Load faith and love with golden chain,
And sprinkle _Lethe_ o'er the brain!
_Pleasure_, on her silver throne,
Smiling comes, nor comes alone;
_Venus_ comes with her along,
And smooth _Lyaeus_, ever young;
And in their train, to fill the press,
Come _apish Dance_ and _swoln Excess_,
Mechanic _Honour_, vicious _Taste_,
And _Fashion_ in her changing vest.
HOADLEY.
We are next to consider our hero as launched into the world, and having
equipped himself with all the necessaries to constitute him a man of
taste, he plunges at once into all the fashionable excesses, and enters
with spirit into the character he assumes.
The avarice of the penurious father then, in this print, is contrasted
by the giddy profusion of his prodigal son. We view him now at his
levee, attended by masters of various professions, supposed to be here
offering their interested services. The foremost figure is readily known
to be a dancing-master; behind him are two men, who at the time when
these prints were first published, were noted for teaching the arts of
defence by different weapons, and who are here drawn from the life; one
of whom is a Frenchman, teacher of the small-sword, making a thrust with
his foil; the other an Englishman, master of the quarter-staff; the
vivacity of the first, and the cold contempt visible in the face of the
second, beautifully describe the natural disposition of the two nations.
On the left of the latter stands an improver of gardens, drawn also from
the life, offering a plan for that purpose. A taste for gardening,
carried to excess, must be acknowledged to have been the ruin of
numbers, it being a passion that is seldom, if ever, satisfied, and
attended with the greatest expense. In the chair sits a professor of
music, at the harpsichord, running over the keys, waiting to give his
pupil a lesson; behind whose chair hangs a list of the presents, one
Farinelli, an Italian singer, received the next day after his first
performance at the Opera House; amongst which, there is notice taken of
one, which he received from the hero of our piece, thus: "A gold
snuff-box, chased, with the story of Orpheus charming the brutes, by J.
Rakewell, esq." By these mementos of extravagance and pride, (for gifts
of this kind proceed oftener from ostentation than generosity,) and by
the engraved frontispiece to a poem, dedicated to our fashionable
spendthrift, lying on the floor, which represents the ladies of Britain
sacrificing their hearts to the idol Farinelli, crying out, with the
greatest earnestness, "one G--d, one Farinelli," we are given to
understand the prevailing dissipation and luxury of the times. Near the
principal figure in this plate is that of him, with one hand on his
breast, the other on his sword, whom we may easily discover to be a
bravo; he is represented as having brought a letter of recommendation,
as one disposed to undertake all sorts of service. This character is
rather Italian than English; but is here introduced to fill up the list
of persons at that time too often engaged in the service of the votaries
of extravagance and fashion. Our author would have it imagined in the
interval between the first scene and this, that the young man whose
history he is painting, had now given himself up to every fashionable
extravagance; and among others, he had imbibed a taste for cock-fighting
and horse-racing; two amusements, which, at that time, the man of
fashion could not dispense with. This is evident, from his rider
bringing in a silver punch-bowl, which one of his horses is supposed to
have won, and his saloon being ridiculously ornamented with the
portraits of celebrated cocks. The figures in the back part of this
plate represent tailors, peruke-makers, milliners, and such other
persons as generally fill the antichamber of a man of quality, except
one, who is supposed to be a poet, and has written some panegyric on the
person whose levee he attends, and who waits for that approbation he
already vainly anticipates. Upon the whole, the general tenor of this
scene is to teach us, that the man of fashion is too often exposed to
the rapacity of his fellow creatures, and is commonly a dupe to the more
knowing part of the world.
"How exactly," says Mr. Ireland, "does Bramston describe the
character in his _Man of Taste_:--
'Without Italian, and without an ear,
To Bononcini's music I adhere.----
To boon companions I my time would give,
With players, pimps, and parasites I'd live;
I would with jockeys from Newmarket dine,
And to rough riders give my choicest wine.
My evenings all I would with sharpers spend,
And make the thief-taker my bosom friend;
In Figg, the prize-fighter, by day delight,
And sup with Colley Cibber every night.'
"Of the expression in this print, we cannot speak more highly than
it deserves. Every character is marked with its proper and
discriminative stamp. It has been said by a very judicious critic
(the Rev. Mr. Gilpin) from whom it is not easy to differ without
being wrong, that the hero of this history, in the first plate of
the series, is _unmeaning_, and in the second _ungraceful_. The fact
is admitted; but, for so delineating him, the author is entitled to
our praise, rather than our censure. Rakewell's whole conduct proves
he was a fool, and at that time he had not learned how to perform an
artificial character; he therefore looks as he is, unmeaning, and
uninformed. But in the second plate he is _ungraceful_.--Granted.
The ill-educated son of so avaricious a father could not have been
introduced into very good company; and though, by the different
teachers who surround him, it evidently appears that he wishes to
_assume_ the character of a gentleman, his internal feelings tell
him he has not attained it. Under that consciousness, he is properly
and naturally represented as ungraceful, and embarrassed in his new
situation."
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 2.
SURROUNDED BY ARTISTS & PROFESSORS.]
PLATE III.
THE TAVERN SCENE.
"O vanity of youthful blood,
So by misuse to poison good!
Woman, framed for social love,
Fairest gift of powers above,
Source of every household blessing;
All charms in innocence possessing:
But, turn'd to vice, all plagues above;
Foe to thy being, foe to love!
Guest divine, to outward viewing;
Ablest minister of ruin?
And thou, no less of gift divine,
Sweet poison of misused wine!
With freedom led to every part,
And secret chamber of the heart,
Dost thou thy friendly host betray,
And shew thy riotous gang the way
To enter in, with covert treason,
O'erthrow the drowsy guard of reason,
To ransack the abandon'd place,
And revel there with wild excess?"
Mr. Ireland having, in his description of this Plate, incorporated
whatever is of value in Dr. Trusler's text, with much judicious
observation and criticism of his own, the Editor has taken the former
_verbatim_.
"This Plate exhibits our licentious prodigal engaged in one of his
midnight festivities: forgetful of the past, and negligent of the
future, he riots in the present. Having poured his libation to Bacchus,
he concludes the evening orgies in a sacrifice at the Cyprian shrine;
and, surrounded by the votaries of Venus, joins in the unhallowed
mysteries of the place. The companions of his revelry are marked with
that easy, unblushing effrontery, which belongs to the servants of all
work in the isle of Paphos;--for the maids of honour they are not
sufficiently elevated.
"He may be supposed, in the phrase of the day, to have beat the rounds,
overset a constable, and conquered a watchman, whose staff and lantern
he has brought into the room, as trophies of his prowess. In this
situation he is robbed of his watch by the girl whose hand is in his
bosom; and, with that adroitness peculiar to an old practitioner, she
conveys her acquisition to an accomplice, who stands behind the chair.
"Two of the ladies are quarrelling; and one of them _delicately_ spouts
wine in the face of her opponent, who is preparing to revenge the
affront with a knife, which, in a posture of threatening defiance, she
grasps in her hand. A third, enraged at being neglected, holds a lighted
candle to a map of the globe, determined to _set the world on fire,
though she perish in the conflagration_! A fourth is undressing. The
fellow bringing in a pewter dish, as part of the apparatus of this
elegant and Attic entertainment, a blind harper, a trumpeter, and a
ragged ballad-singer, roaring out an obscene song, complete this motley
group.
"This design may be a very exact representation of what were then the
nocturnal amusements of a brothel;--so different are the manners of
former and present times, that I much question whether a similar
exhibition is now to be seen in any tavern of the metropolis. That we
are less licentious than our predecessors, I dare not affirm; but we are
certainly more delicate in the pursuit of our pleasures.
"The room is furnished with a set of Roman emperors,--they are not
placed in their proper order; for in the mad revelry of the evening,
this family of frenzy have decollated all of them, except Nero; and his
manners had too great a similarity to their own, to admit of his
suffering so degrading an insult; their reverence for _virtue_ induced
them to spare his head. In the frame of a _Caesar_ they have placed a
portrait of _Pontac_, an eminent cook, whose great talents being turned
to heightening sensual, rather than mental enjoyments, he has a much
better chance of a votive offering from this company, than would either
Vespasian or Trajan.
"The shattered mirror, broken wine-glasses, fractured chair and cane;
the mangled fowl, with a fork stuck in its breast, thrown into a corner,
and indeed every accompaniment, shews, that this has been a night of
riot without enjoyment, mischief without wit, and waste without
gratification.
"With respect to the drawing of the figures in this curious female
coterie, Hogarth evidently intended several of them for beauties; and of
vulgar, uneducated, prostituted beauty, he had a good idea. The hero of
our tale displays all that careless jollity, which copious draughts of
maddening wine are calculated to inspire; he laughs the world away, and
bids it pass. The poor dupe, without his periwig, in the back-ground,
forms a good contrast of character: he is maudlin drunk, and sadly sick.
To keep up the spirit of unity throughout the society, and not leave the
poor African girl entirely neglected, she is making signs to her friend
the porter, who perceives, and slightly returns, her love-inspiring
glance. This print is rather crowded,--the subject demanded it should be
so; some of the figures, thrown into shade, might have helped the
general effect, but would have injured the characteristic expression."
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 3.
TAVERN SCENE.]
PLATE IV.
ARRESTED FOR DEBT.
"O, vanity of youthful blood,
So by misuse to poison good!
Reason awakes, and views unbarr'd
The sacred gates he wish'd to guard;
Approaching, see the harpy _Law_,
And _Poverty_, with icy paw,
Ready to seize the poor remains
That vice has left of all his gains.
Cold _penitence_, lame _after-thought_,
With fear, despair, and horror fraught,
Call back his guilty pleasures dead,
Whom he hath wrong'd, and whom betray'd."
The career of dissipation is here stopped. Dressed in the first style of
the ton, and getting out of a sedan-chair, with the hope of shining in
the circle, and perhaps forwarding a former application for a place or a
pension, he is arrested! To intimate that being plundered is the certain
consequence of such an event, and to shew how closely one misfortune
treads upon the heels of another, a boy is at the same moment stealing
his cane.
The unfortunate girl whom he basely deserted, is now a milliner, and
naturally enough attends in the crowd, to mark the fashions of the day.
Seeing his distress, with all the eager tenderness of unabated love, she
flies to his relief. Possessed of a small sum of money, the hard
earnings of unremitted industry, she generously offers her purse for the
liberation of her worthless favourite. This releases the captive beau,
and displays a strong instance of female affection; which, being once
planted in the bosom, is rarely eradicated by the coldest neglect, or
harshest cruelty.
The high-born, haughty Welshman, with an enormous leek, and a
countenance keen and lofty as his native mountains, establishes the
chronology, and fixes the day to be the first of March; which being
sacred to the titular saint of Wales, was observed at court.
Mr. Nichols remarks of this plate:--"In the early impressions, a
shoe-black steals the Rake's cane. In the modern ones, a large group
of sweeps, and black-shoe boys, 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; 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
blackguard 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."
Mr. Gilpin observes:--"Very disagreeable accidents often befal
gentlemen of pleasure. An event of this kind is recorded in the
fourth print, which is now before us. Our hero going, in full dress,
to pay his compliments at court on St. David's day, was accosted in
the rude manner which is here represented.--The composition is good.
The form of the group, made up of the figures in action, the chair,
and the lamplighter, is pleasing. Only, here we have an opportunity
of remarking, that a group is disgusting when the extremities of it
are heavy. A group in some respects should resemble a tree. The
heavier part of the foliage (the cup, as the landscape-painter calls
it) is always near the middle; the outside branches, which are
relieved by the sky, are light and airy. An inattention to this rule
has given a heaviness to the group before us. The two bailiffs, the
woman, and the chairman, are all huddled together in that part of
the group which should have been the lightest; while the middle
part, where the hand holds the door, wants strength and consistence.
It may be added too, that the four heads, in the form of a diamond,
make an unpleasing shape. All regular figures should be studiously
avoided.--The light had been well distributed, if the bailiff
holding the arrest, and the chairman, had been a little lighter, and
the woman darker. The glare of the white apron is disagreeable.--We
have, in this print, some beautiful instances of expression. The
surprise and terror of the poor gentleman is apparent in every limb,
as far as is consistent with the fear of discomposing his dress. The
insolence of power in one of the bailiffs, and the unfeeling heart,
which can jest with misery, in the other, are strongly marked. The
self-importance, too, of the honest Cambrian is not ill portrayed;
who is chiefly introduced to settle the chronology of the story.--In
pose of grace, we have nothing striking. Hogarth might have
introduced a degree of it in the female figure: at least he might
have contrived to vary the heavy and unpleasing form of her
drapery.--The perspective is good, and makes an agreeable shape."
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 4.
ARRESTED FOR DEBT AS GOING TO COURT.]
PLATE V.
MARRIES AN OLD MAID.
"New to the school of hard _mishap_,
Driven from the ease of fortune's lap.
What schemes will nature not embrace
T' avoid less shame of drear distress?
_Gold_ can the charms of youth bestow,
And mask deformity with shew:
Gold can avert the sting of shame,
In Winter's arms create a flame:
Can couple youth with hoary age,
And make antipathies engage."
To be thus degraded by the rude enforcement of the law, and relieved
from an exigence by one whom he had injured, would have wounded,
humbled, I had almost said reclaimed, any man who had either feeling or
elevation of mind; but, to mark the progression of vice, we here see
this depraved, lost character, hypocritically violating every natural
feeling of the soul, to recruit his exhausted finances, and marrying an
old and withered Sybil, at the sight of whom nature must recoil.
The ceremony passes in the old church, Mary-le-bone, which was then
considered at such a distance from London, as to become the usual resort
of those who wished to be privately married; that such was the view of
this prostituted young man, may be fairly inferred from a glance at the
object of his choice. Her charms are heightened by the affectation of an
amorous leer, which she directs to her youthful husband, in grateful
return for a similar compliment which she supposes paid to herself. This
gives her face much meaning, but meaning of such a sort, that an
observer being ask, "_How dreadful must be this creature's hatred?_"
would naturally reply, "_How hateful must be her love!_"
In his demeanor we discover an attempt to appear at the altar with
becoming decorum: but internal perturbation darts through assumed
tranquillity, for though he is _plighting his troth_ to the old woman,
his eyes are fixed on the young girl who kneels behind her.
The parson and clerk seem made for each other; a sleepy, stupid
solemnity marks every muscle of the divine, and the nasal droning of the
_lay brother_ is most happily expressed. Accompanied by her child and
mother, the unfortunate victim of his seduction is here again
introduced, endeavouring to enter the church, and forbid the banns. The
opposition made by an old pew-opener, with her bunch of keys, gave the
artist a good opportunity for indulging his taste in the burlesque, and
he has not neglected it.
A dog (Trump, Hogarth's favorite), paying his addresses to a one-eyed
quadruped of his own species, is a happy parody of the unnatural union
going on in the church.
The commandments are broken: a crack runs near the tenth, which says,
_Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife;_ a prohibition in the
present case hardly necessary. The creed is destroyed by the damps of
the church; and so little attention has been paid to the poor's box,
that it is covered with a _cobweb_! These three high-wrought strokes of
satirical humour were perhaps never equalled by any exertion of the
pencil; excelled they cannot be.
On one of the pew doors is the following curious specimen of church-yard
poetry, and mortuary orthography.
THESE : PEWES : VNSCRUD : AND TANE : IN : SVNDER
IN : STONE : THERS : GRAUEN : WHAT : IS : VNDER
TO : WIT : A VALT : FOR : BURIAL : THERE : IS
WHICH : EDWARD : FORSET : MADE : FOR : HIM : AND : HIS.
This is a correct copy of the inscription. Part of these lines, in
raised letters, now form a pannel in the wainscot at the end of the
right-hand gallery, as the church is entered from the street. The mural
monument of the Taylor's, composed of lead, gilt over, is still
preserved: it is seen in Hogarth's print, just under the window.
A glory over the bride's head is whimsical.
The bay and holly, which decorate the pews, give a date to the period,
and determine this preposterous union of January with June, to have
taken place about the time of Christmas;
"When Winter linger'd in her icy veins."
Addison would have classed her among the evergreens of the sex.
It has been observed, that "the church is too small, and the wooden
post, which seems to have no use, divides the picture very
disagreeably." This cannot be denied: but it appears to be meant as an
accurate representation of the place, and the artist delineated what he
saw.
The grouping is good, and the principal figure has the air of a
gentleman. The light is well distributed, and the scene most
characteristically represented.
The commandments being represented as broken, might probably give the
hint to a lady's reply, on being told that thieves had the preceding
night broken into the church, and stolen the communion-plate, and the
ten commandments. "I suppose," added the informant, "that they may melt
and sell the plate; but can you divine for what possible purpose they
could steal the commandments?"--"To _break_ them, to be sure," replied
she;--"to _break_ them."
[Illustration: THE RAKE'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 5.
MARRIES AN OLD MAID.]
PLATE VI.
SCENE IN A GAMING HOUSE.
"_Gold_, thou bright son of Phoebus, source
Of universal intercourse;
Of weeping Virtue soft redress:
And blessing those who live to bless:
Yet oft behold this sacred trust,
The tool of avaricious lust;
No longer bond of human kind,
But bane of every virtuous mind.
What chaos such misuse attends,
Friendship stoops to prey on friends;
Health, that gives relish to delight,
Is wasted with the wasting night;
Doubt and mistrust is thrown on _Heaven_,
And all its power to chance is given.
Sad purchase of repentant tears, }
Of needless quarrels, endless fears, }
Of hopes of moments, pangs of years! }
Sad purchase of a tortured mind,
To an imprison'd body join'd."
Though now, from the infatuated folly of his antiquated wife, in
possession of a fortune, he is still the slave of that baneful vice,
which, while it enslaves the mind, poisons the enjoyments, and sweeps
away the possessions of its deluded votaries. Destructive as the
earthquake which convulses nature, it overwhelms the pride of the
forest, and engulfs the labours of the architect.