published, I do not think," says Mr. Ireland, "there is one, in which
character is more displayed than in this very spirited little etching.
It is much superior to the more delicate engravings from his designs by
other artists, and I prefer it to those that were still higher finished
by his own burin.
"The prim coxcomb with an enormous bag, whose favours, like those of
Hercules between Virtue and Vice, are contended for by two rival orange
girls, gives an admirable idea of the dress of the day; when, if we may
judge from this print, our grave forefathers, defying Nature, and
despising convenience, had a much higher rank in the temple of Folly
than was then attained by their ladies. It must be acknowledged that,
since that period, the softer sex have asserted their natural rights;
and, snatching the wreath of fashion from the brow of presuming man,
have tortured it into such forms that, were it possible, which _certes_
it is not, to disguise a beauteous face----But to the high behest of
Fashion all must bow.
"Governed by this idol, our beau has a cuff that, for a modern fop,
would furnish fronts for a waistcoat, and a family fire-screen might be
made of his enormous bag. His bare and shrivelled neck has a close
resemblance to that of a half-starved greyhound; and his face, figure,
and air, form a fine contrast to the easy and degagee assurance of the
Grisette whom he addresses.
"The opposite figure, nearly as grotesque, though not quite so formal as
its companion, presses its left hand upon its breast, in the style of
protestation; and, eagerly contemplating the superabundant charms of a
beauty of Rubens's school, presents her with a pinch of comfort. Every
muscle, every line of his countenance, is acted upon by affectation and
grimace, and his queue bears some resemblance to an ear-trumpet.
"The total inattention of these three polite persons to the business of
the stage, which at this moment almost convulses the children of Nature
who are seated in the pit, is highly descriptive of that refined apathy
which characterises our people of fashion, and raises them above those
mean passions that agitate the groundlings.
"One gentleman, indeed, is as affectedly unaffected as a man of the
first world. By his saturnine cast of face, and contracted brow, he is
evidently a profound critic, and much too wise to laugh. He must
indisputably be a very great critic; for, like _Voltaire's
Poccocurante_, nothing can please him; and, while those around open
every avenue of their minds to mirth, and are willing to be delighted,
though they do not well know why, he analyses the drama by the laws of
Aristotle, and finding those laws are violated, determines that the
author ought to be hissed, instead of being applauded. This it is to be
so excellent a judge; this it is which gives a critic that exalted
gratification which can never be attained by the illiterate,--the
supreme power of pointing out faults, where others discern nothing but
beauties, and preserving a rigid inflexibility of muscle, while the
sides of the vulgar herd are shaking with laughter. These merry mortals,
thinking with Plato that it is no proof of a good stomach to nauseate
every aliment presented them, do not inquire too nicely into causes,
but, giving full scope to their risibility, display a set of features
more highly ludicrous than I ever saw in any other print. It is to be
regretted that the artist has not given us some clue by which we might
have known what was the play which so much delighted his audience: I
should conjecture that it was either one of Shakespear's comedies, or a
modern tragedy. Sentimental comedy was not the fashion of that day.
"The three sedate musicians in the orchestra, totally engrossed by
minims and crotchets, are an admirable contrast to the company in the
pit."
[Illustration: THE LAUGHING AUDIENCE.]
GATE OF CALAIS.
O, THE ROAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND!
"'Twas at the gate of Calais, Hogarth tells,
Where sad despair and famine always dwells;
A meagre Frenchman, Madame Grandsire's cook,
As home he steer'd, his carcase that way took,
Bending beneath the weight of famed sirloin,
On whom he often wish'd in vain to dine;
Good Father Dominick by chance came by,
With rosy gills, round paunch, and greedy eye;
And, when he first beheld the greasy load,
His benediction on it he bestow'd;
And while the solid fat his fingers press'd,
He lick'd his chops, and thus the knight address'd:
'O rare roast beef, lov'd by all mankind,
Was I but doom'd to have thee,
Well dress'd, and garnish'd to my mind,
And swimming in thy gravy;
Not all thy country's force combined,
Should from my fury save thee!
'Renown'd sirloin! oft times decreed
The theme of English ballad,
E'en kings on thee have deign'd to feed,
Unknown to Frenchman's palate;
Then how much must thy taste exceed
Soup-meagre, frogs, and salad!'"
The thought on which this whimsical and highly-characteristic print is
founded, originated in Calais, to which place Mr. Hogarth, accompanied
by some of his friends, made an excursion, in the year 1747.
Extreme partiality for his native country was the leading trait of his
character; he seems to have begun his three hours' voyage with a firm
determination to be displeased at every thing he saw out of Old England.
For a meagre, powdered figure, hung with tatters, _a-la-mode de Paris_,
to affect the airs of a coxcomb, and the importance of a sovereign, is
ridiculous enough; but if it makes a man happy, why should he be
laughed at? It must blunt the edge of ridicule, to see natural hilarity
defy depression; and a whole nation laugh, sing, and dance, under
burthens that would nearly break the firm-knit sinews of a Briton. Such
was the picture of France at that period, but it was a picture which our
English satirist could not contemplate with common patience. The swarms
of grotesque figures who paraded the streets excited his indignation,
and drew forth a torrent of coarse abusive ridicule, not much to the
honour of his liberality. He compared them to Callot's beggars--Lazarus
on the painted cloth--the prodigal son--or any other object descriptive
of extreme contempt. Against giving way to these effusions of national
spleen in the open street, he was frequently cautioned, but advice had
no effect; he treated admonition with scorn, and considered his monitor
unworthy the name of Englishman. These satirical ebullitions were at
length checked. Ignorant of the customs of France, and considering the
gate of Calais merely as a piece of ancient architecture, he began to
make a sketch. This was soon observed; he was seized as a spy, who
intended to draw a plan of the fortification, and escorted by a file of
musqueteers to M. la Commandant. His sketch-book was examined, leaf by
leaf, and found to contain drawings that had not the most distant
relation to tactics. Notwithstanding this favourable circumstance, the
governor, with great politeness, assured him, that had not a treaty
between the nations been actually signed, he should have been under the
disagreeable necessity of hanging him upon the ramparts: as it was, he
must be permitted the privilege of providing him a few military
attendants, who should do themselves the honour of waiting upon him,
while he resided in the dominions of "the grande monarque." Two
sentinels were then ordered to escort him to his hotel, from whence they
conducted him to the vessel; nor did they quit their prisoner, until he
was a league from shore; when, seizing him by the shoulders, and
spinning him round upon the deck, they said he was now at liberty to
pursue his voyage without further molestation.
So mortifying an adventure he did not like to hear recited, but has in
this print recorded the circumstance which led to it. In one corner he
has given a portrait of himself, making the drawing; and to shew the
moment of arrest, the hand of a serjeant is upon his shoulder.
The French sentinel is so situated, as to give some idea of a figure
hanging in chains: his ragged shirt is trimmed with a pair of paper
ruffles. The old woman, and a fish which she is pointing at, have a
striking resemblance. The abundance of parsnips, and other vegetables,
indicate what are the leading articles in a Lenten feast.
Mr. Pine, the painter, sat for the friar, and from thence acquired the
title of Father Pine. This distinction did not flatter him, and he
frequently requested that the countenance might be altered, but the
artist peremptorily refused.
[Illustration: GATE OF CALAIS.
"O THE ROAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND."]
THE POLITICIAN.
"A politician should (as I have read)
Be furnish'd in the first place with a head."
One of our old writers gives it as his opinion, that "there are onlie
two subjects which are worthie the studie of a wise man," i.e. religion
and politics. For the first, it does not come under inquiry in this
print,--but certain it is, that too sedulously studying the second, has
frequently involved its votaries in many most tedious and unprofitable
disputes, and been the source of much evil to many well-meaning and
honest men. Under this class comes the Quidnunc here pourtrayed; it is
said to be intended for a Mr. Tibson, laceman, in the Strand, who paid
more attention to the affairs of Europe, than to those of his own shop.
He is represented in a style somewhat similar to that in which Schalcken
painted William the third,--holding a candle in his right hand, and
eagerly inspecting the Gazetteer of the day. Deeply interested in the
intelligence it contains, concerning the flames that rage on the
Continent, he is totally insensible of domestic danger, and regardless
of a flame, which, ascending to his hat,--
"Threatens destruction to his three-tail'd wig."
From the tie-wig, stockings, high-quartered shoes, and sword, I should
suppose it was painted about the year 1730, when street robberies were
so frequent in the metropolis, that it was customary for men in trade to
wear swords, not to preserve their religion and liberty from foreign
invasion, but to defend their own pockets from "domestic collectors."
The original sketch Hogarth presented to his friend Forrest; it was
etched by Sherwin, and published in 1775.
[Illustration: THE POLITICIAN.]
TASTE IN HIGH LIFE,
IN THE YEAR 1742.
The picture from which this print was copied, Hogarth painted by the
order of Miss Edwards, a woman of large fortune, who having been laughed
at for some singularities in her manners, requested the artist to
recriminate on her opponents, and paid him sixty guineas for his
production.
It is professedly intended to ridicule the reigning fashions of high
life, in the year 1742: to do this, the painter has brought into one
group, an old beau and an old lady of the Chesterfield school, a
fashionable young lady, a little black boy, and a full-dressed monkey.
The old lady, with a most affected air, poises, between her finger and
thumb, a small tea-cup, with the beauties of which she appears to be
highly enamoured.
The gentleman, gazing with vacant wonder at that and the companion
saucer which he holds in his hand, joins in admiration of its
astonishing beauties!
"Each varied colour of the brightest hue,
The green, the red, the yellow, and the blue,
In every part their dazzled eyes behold,
Here streak'd with silver--there enrich'd with gold."
This gentleman is said to be intended for Lord Portmore, in the habit he
first appeared at Court, on his return from France. The cane dangling
from his wrist, large muff, long queue, black stock, feathered chapeau,
and shoes, give him the air of
"An old and finish'd fop,
All cork at heel, and feather all at top."
The old lady's habit, formed of stiff brocade, gives her the appearance
of a squat pyramid, with a grotesque head at the top of it. The young
one is fondling a little black boy, who on his part is playing with a
petite pagoda. This miniature Othello has been said to be intended for
the late Ignatius Sancho, whose talents and virtues were an honour to
his colour. At the time the picture was painted, he would have been
rather older than the figure, but as he was then honoured by the
partiality and protection of a noble family, the painter might possibly
mean to delineate what his figure had been a few years before.
The little monkey, with a magnifying glass, bag-wig, solitaire, laced
hat, and ruffles, is eagerly inspecting a bill of fare, with the
following articles _pour diner_; cocks' combs, ducks' tongues, rabbits'
ears, fricasee of snails, _grande d'oeufs buerre_.
In the centre of the room is a capacious china jar; in one corner a
tremendous pyramid, composed of packs of cards, and on the floor close
to them, a bill, inscribed "Lady Basto, D^{r} to John Pip, for
cards,--L300."
The room is ornamented with several pictures; the principal represents
the Medicean Venus, on a pedestal, in stays and high-heeled shoes, and
holding before her a hoop petticoat, somewhat larger than a fig-leaf; a
Cupid paring down a fat lady to a thin proportion, and another Cupid
blowing up a fire to burn a hoop petticoat, muff, bag, queue wig, &c. On
the dexter side is another picture, representing Monsieur Desnoyer,
operatically habited, dancing in a grand ballet, and surrounded by
butterflies, insects evidently of the same genus with this deity of
dance. On the sinister, is a drawing of exotics, consisting of queue and
bag-wigs, muffs, solitaires, petticoats, French heeled shoes, and other
fantastic fripperies.
Beneath this is a lady in a pyramidical habit walking the Park; and as
the companion picture, we have a blind man walking the streets.
The fire-screen is adorned with a drawing of a lady in a sedan-chair--
"To conceive how she looks, you must call to your mind
The lady you've seen in a lobster confined,
Or a pagod in some little corner enshrined."
As Hogarth made this design from the ideas of Miss Edwards, it has been
said that he had no great partiality for his own performance, and that,
as he never would consent to its being engraved, the drawing from which
the first print was copied, was made by the connivance of one of her
servants. Be that as it may, his ridicule on the absurdities of
fashion,--on the folly of collecting old china,--cookery,--card playing,
&c. is pointed, and highly wrought.
At the sale of Miss Edwards's effects at Kensington, the original
picture was purchased by the father of Mr. Birch, surgeon, of
Essex-street, Strand.
[Illustration: TASTE IN HIGH LIFE.]
THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE I.
"The snares are set, the plot is laid,
Ruin awaits thee,--hapless maid!
Seduction sly assails thine ear,
And _gloating, foul desire_ is near;
Baneful and blighting are their smiles,
Destruction waits upon their wiles;
Alas! thy guardian angel sleeps,
Vice clasps her hands, and virtue weeps."
The general aim of historical painters, says Mr. Ireland, has been to
emblazon some signal exploit of an exalted and distinguished character.
To go through a series of actions, and conduct their hero from the
cradle to the grave, to give a history upon canvass, and tell a story
with the pencil, few of them attempted. Mr. Hogarth saw, with the
intuitive eye of genius, that one path to the Temple of Fame was yet
untrodden: he took Nature for his guide, and gained the summit. He was
the painter of Nature; for he gave, not merely the ground-plan of the
countenance, but marked the features with every impulse of the mind. He
may be denominated the biographical dramatist of domestic life. Leaving
those heroic monarchs who have blazed through their day, with the
destructive brilliancy of a comet, to their adulatory historians, he,
like Lillo, has taken his scenes from humble life, and rendered them a
source of entertainment, instruction, and morality.
This series of prints gives the history of a Prostitute. The story
commences with her arrival in London, where, initiated in the school of
profligacy, she experiences the miseries consequent to her situation,
and dies in the morning of life. Her variety of wretchedness, forms such
a picture of the way in which vice rewards her votaries, as ought to
warn the young and inexperienced from entering this path of infamy.
The first scene of this domestic tragedy is laid at the Bell Inn, in
Wood-street, and the heroine may possibly be daughter to the poor old
clergyman who is reading the direction of a letter close to the York
waggon, from which vehicle she has just alighted. In attire--neat,
plain, unadorned; in demeanor--artless, modest, diffident: in the bloom
of youth, and more distinguished by native innocence than elegant
symmetry; her conscious blush, and downcast eyes, attract the attention
of a female fiend, who panders to the vices of the opulent and
libidinous. Coming out of the door of the inn, we discover two men, one
of whom is eagerly gloating on the devoted victim. This is a portrait,
and said to be a strong resemblance of Colonel Francis Chartres.
The old procuress, immediately after the girl's alighting from the
waggon, addresses her with the familiarity of a friend, rather than the
reserve of one who is to be her mistress.
Had her father been versed in even the first rudiments of physiognomy,
he would have prevented her engaging with one of so decided an aspect:
for this also is the portrait of a woman infamous in her day: but he,
good, easy man, unsuspicious as Fielding's parson Adams, is wholly
engrossed in the contemplation of a superscription to a letter,
addressed to the bishop of the diocese. So important an object prevents
his attending to his daughter, or regarding the devastation occasioned
by his gaunt and hungry Rozinante having snatched at the straw that
packs up some earthenware, and produced
"The wreck of flower-pots, and the crash of pans!"
From the inn she is taken to the house of the procuress, divested of her
home-spun garb, dressed in the gayest style of the day; and the tender
native hue of her complexion incrusted with paint, and disguised by
patches. She is then introduced to Colonel Chartres, and by artful
flattery and liberal promises, becomes intoxicated with the dreams of
imaginary greatness. A short time convinces her of how light a breath
these promises were composed. Deserted by her keeper, and terrified by
threats of an immediate arrest for the pompous paraphernalia of
prostitution, after being a short time protected by one of the tribe of
Levi, she is reduced to the hard necessity of wandering the streets, for
that precarious subsistence which flows from the drunken rake, or
profligate debauchee. Here her situation is truly pitiable! Chilled by
nipping frost and midnight dew, the repentant tear trickling on her
heaving bosom, she endeavours to drown reflection in draughts of
destructive poison. This, added to the contagious company of women of
her own description, vitiates her mind, eradicates the native seeds of
virtue, destroys that elegant and fascinating simplicity, which gives
additional charms to beauty, and leaves, in its place, art, affectation,
and impudence.
Neither the painter of a sublime picture, nor the writer of an heroic
poem, should introduce any trivial circumstances that are likely to draw
the attention from the principal figures. Such compositions should form
one great whole: minute detail will inevitably weaken their effect. But
in little stories, which record the domestic incidents of familiar life,
these accessary accompaniments, though trifling in themselves, acquire a
consequence from their situation; they add to the interest, and realise
the scene. In this, as in almost all that were delineated by Mr.
Hogarth, we see a close regard paid to things as they then were; by
which means his prints become a sort of historical record of the manners
of the age.
[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 1.
ENSNARED BY A PROCURESS.]
THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE II.
"Ah! why so vain, though blooming in thy spring,
Thou shining, frail, adorn'd, but wretched thing
Old age will come; disease may come before,
And twenty prove as fatal as threescore!"
Entered into the path of infamy, the next scene exhibits our young
heroine the mistress of a rich Jew, attended by a black boy,[1] and
surrounded with the pompous parade of tasteless profusion. Her mind
being now as depraved, as her person is decorated, she keeps up the
spirit of her character by extravagance and inconstancy. An example of
the first is exhibited in the monkey being suffered to drag her rich
head-dress round the room, and of the second in the retiring gallant.
The Hebrew is represented at breakfast with his mistress; but, having
come earlier than was expected, the favourite has not departed. To
secure his retreat is an exercise for the invention of both mistress and
maid. This is accomplished by the lady finding a pretence for
quarrelling with the Jew, kicking down the tea-table, and scalding his
legs, which, added to the noise of the china, so far engrosses his
attention, that the paramour, assisted by the servant, escapes
discovery.
The subjects of two pictures, with which the room is decorated, are
David dancing before the ark, and Jonah seated under a gourd. They are
placed there, not merely as circumstances which belong to Jewish story,
but as a piece of covert ridicule on the old masters, who generally
painted from the ideas of others, and repeated the same tale _ad
infinitum_. On the toilet-table we discover a mask, which well enough
intimates where she had passed part of the preceding night, and that
masquerades, then a very fashionable amusement, were much frequented by
women of this description; a sufficient reason for their being avoided
by those of an opposite character.
Under the protection of this disciple of Moses she could not remain
long. Riches were his only attraction, and though profusely lavished on
this unworthy object, her attachment was not to be obtained, nor could
her constancy be secured; repeated acts of infidelity are punished by
dismission; and her next situation shows, that like most of the
sisterhood, she had lived without apprehension of the sunshine of life
being darkened by the passing cloud, and made no provision for the hour
of adversity.
In this print the characters are marked with a master's hand. The
insolent air of the harlot, the astonishment of the Jew, eagerly
grasping at the falling table, the start of the black boy, the cautious
trip of the ungartered and barefooted retreating gallant, and the sudden
spring of the scalded monkey, are admirably expressed. To represent an
object in its descent, has been said to be impossible; the attempt has
seldom succeeded; but, in this print, the tea equipage really appears
falling to the floor; and, in Rembrandt's Abraham's Offering, in the
Houghton collection, now at Petersburg, the knife dropping from the hand
of the patriarch, appears in a falling state.
Quin compared Garrick in Othello to the black boy with the tea-kettle, a
circumstance that by no means encouraged our Roscius to continue acting
the part. Indeed, when his face was obscured, his chief power of
expression was lost; and then, and not till then, was he reduced to a
level with several other performers. It has been remarked, however, that
Garrick said of himself, that when he appeared in Othello, Quin, he
supposed, would say, "Here's Pompey! where's the tea-kettle?"
FOOTNOTE:
[1] The attendant black boy gave the foundation of an ill-natured remark
by Quin, when Garrick once attempted the part of Othello. "He pretend to
play Othello!" said the surly satirist; "He pretend to play Othello! He
wants nothing but the tea-kettle and lamp, to qualify him for Hogarth's
Pompey!"
[Illustration: THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE 2.
QUARRELS WITH HER JEW PROTECTOR.]
THE HARLOT'S PROGRESS.
PLATE III.
"Reproach, scorn, infamy, and hate,
On all thy future steps shall wait;
Thy furor be loath'd by every eye,
And every foot thy presence fly."