Part 13

Mr. Hogarth's strong bias to burlesque was not to be checked by time or place. It is not easy to imagine anything more whimsically grotesque than the female Falstaff. A fellow near her, emulating the deep-toned organ, and the man beneath, who, though asleep, joins his sonorous tones in melodious chorus with the admirers of those two pre-eminent poets, Hopkins and Sternhold. The pew-opener is a very prominent and principal figure; two old women adjoining Miss West's seat are so much in shadow, that we are apt to overlook them: they are, however, all three making the dome ring with their exertions.

"Ah! had it been King David's fate To hear them sing...."

The preacher, reader, and clerk, with many of the small figures in the gallery and beneath, are truly ludicrous; and we regret their being on so reduced a scale, that they are scarce perceptible to the naked eye. It was necessary that the artist should exhibit a crowded congregation, but it must be acknowledged he has neglected the rules of perspective. The print wants depth. In the countenance of Miss West and her lover there is a resemblance. Their faces have not much expression, but this is atoned for by a natural and pleasing simplicity. Character was not necessary.

PLATE III.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE AT PLAY IN THE CHURCHYARD DURING DIVINE SERVICE.

"Judgments are prepared for scorners, and stripes for the back of fools."--PROVERBS XIX. 29.

While the industrious and sedate apprentice is engaged in such exercises as mend the heart and improve the understanding; while properly devoting the seventh day to the praise of his Creator, he attends divine service, returns thanks for the blessings he enjoys, and prays for their continuance, an inmate of the same house, about the same age, and of the same rank in society, who might have participated in all his advantages, is stretched upon a grave-stone in the churchyard, and gambling with a group of mendicants. Their amusement seems to be the favourite old English game of hustle-cap, and our idle and unprincipled youth is endeavouring to cheat, by concealing some of the halfpence under the broad brim of his hat. This is perceived by the shoeblack, and warmly resented by the fellow with the black patch over his eye, who loudly insists on the hats being fairly removed. The eager anxiety which marks these mean gamblers is equal to that of two peers playing for an estate. The latter could not have more solicitude for the turn of a die which was to determine who was the proprietor of ten thousand acres, than is displayed in the countenance of Mr. Thomas Idle. Their debate has been loud, and their attention is so much engrossed, that they have not heard the cautious steps of a beadle, who seems likely to terminate the dispute by a smart stroke from his rattan, which is aimed with apparent goodwill at the back of our disciple of indolence. His three associates are of the lowest order; among them is a half-naked shoeblack. Like his companion, with one hand lifted up to his head, he is disturbing part of that clan who have been always distinguished for their tenacious adherence to the slothful. The tombstone--inscribed, "Here lies the body of"--applies very well to the young gentleman who, in an attitude highly expressive of idleness, is recumbent upon it. Even the skulls, on the ground near the new-opened grave, have character. These, with the other mementos of mortality, are indiscriminately scattered on the earth, and trampled upon by the most contemptible survivors. "How rich, how honoured once, avails them not."

The figures in this print are well grouped, and the countenances of the gamblers and beadle admirably marked.

PLATE IV.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE A FAVOURITE, AND ENTRUSTED BY HIS MASTER.

"Well done, thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things."--MATTHEW XXV. 21.

From attention to business and propriety of conduct, the industrious apprentice has gained the confidence of his employer. He is now in the counting-house, entrusted with the management of the business; has the day-book, purse, and keys in his hands, and attentively listens to the directions of his friendly master, who, with a face expressive of the highest partiality and regard, familiarly leans upon his shoulder. A partnership, on the eve of taking place, is covertly intimated by a pair of gloves upon the writing-desk. The young merchant's sedulous application is well hinted at by an headpiece to the _London Almanac_, "Industry taking time by the forelock." A city porter, bringing in bales of goods, has a true Bardolphian face. The mastiff that attends him is violently opposed by the domestic cat, who, considering this house as her own peculiar domain, and having an hereditary dislike to the canine species, endeavours to drive him from the premises. Neither cat, dog, nor porter are well drawn, nor is much regard paid to perspective; but the general design is carried on by such easy and natural gradations, and the consequent success of an attentive conduct displayed in colours so plain and perspicuous, that little errors in execution should be overlooked or forgiven.

PLATE V.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE TURNED AWAY AND SENT TO SEA.

"A foolish son is the heaviness of his mother."--PROVERBS X. 1.

Corrupted by sloth, and contaminated by bad company, the idle apprentice, having forfeited the regard and tired the patience of his master, is sent to sea, in the hope that a separation from his associates, joined to the inevitable hardships of a maritime life, may in some degree reclaim him. He is exhibited in the ship's boat, accompanied by his afflicted mother, whose dress intimates that she is a widow, and who had naturally formed hopes of this boy's being a comfort to her old age. The waterman, with a significant face, points to a figure on a gibbet, advising him to look at it as emblematical of his future fate. A boy shows him a cat-o'-nine tails as a specimen of the discipline on board a ship; this _water-wit_ the abandoned young man returns by holding up two fingers in the form of horns, and recommending this Joe Miller of the Thames to look at Cuckold's Point, which is in the distance. Having forfeited his indentures, he has thrown them into the river, is totally lost to reflection, and insensible to the grief of his mother, the ridicule of his companions, or his own unhappy situation.

That great geographer of the human face, Lavater of Zurich, has very properly thought a copy of this print worthy a place in his _Essays on Physiognomy_. His observations deserve attention:--

"Here are the traits of drunkenness combined with thoughtless stupidity. Who can look without disgust? Would these wretches have been what they are, had they not by vice erased nature's marks? Can perversion be more apparent than in the middle profile?"

PLATE VI.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE OUT OF HIS TIME, AND MARRIED TO HIS MASTER'S DAUGHTER.

"The virtuous woman is a crown to her husband."--PROVERBS XIII. 4.

The reward of industry is success. Our prudent and attentive youth is now become partner with his master,[157] and married to his daughter. To show that plenty reigns in this mansion, a servant distributes the remains of the table to a poor woman, and the bridegroom pays one of the drummers, who, according to ancient custom, attend with their thundering gratulations the day after a wedding. A performer on the bass viol, and a herd of butchers armed with marrow-bones and cleavers, form an English concert![158] A cripple, with the ballad of _Jesse_, or the _Happy Pair_, represents a man known by the name of Philip in the Tub, who had visited Ireland and the United Provinces, and in the memory of some persons now living was a general attendant at weddings. From those votaries of Hymen, who were honoured with his _epithalamiums_, he received a small reward. To show that Messieurs West and Goodchild's habitation is near the Monument,[159] the base of that stately column appears in the background.

A footman and butcher at the opposite corner, compared with the other figures, are gigantic; they might serve for the Gog and Magog of Guildhall.

It has been said that the thoughts in this print are trite, and the actions mean, which must be in part acknowledged; but they are natural and appropriate to the rank and situation of the parties, and to the fashions of the time at which it was published.

PLATE VII.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE RETURNED FROM SEA, AND IN A GARRET WITH A COMMON PROSTITUTE.

"The sound of a shaken leaf shall chase him."--LEVITICUS XXVI. 36.

The profligate and degraded apprentice, returned from his voyage, is now exhibited in a garret with a common prostitute. Tired of a seafaring life, where we may naturally suppose he met with punishment adequate to his crimes, he returns to London. By the pistols, watches, etc. which lie upon and near the bed, it seems evident that the source of his present subsistence is from robbery on the highway. Horror and dismay are strongly depicted in his agitated and terrified face.--What a contrast to the serenity displayed in the countenance of his fellow-'prentice! To prevent surprise, the door is locked, double bolted, and barricaded with planks from the floor; notwithstanding these precautions, the noise occasioned by a cat having slipped down a ruinous chimney, throws him into the utmost terror. Not so his depraved companion; solely engrossed by the plunder upon the bed,[160] she looks with delighted eyes at a glittering earring. The broken jug, pipe, knife, plate, dram-bottle, glass, and pistols, are very properly introduced; and the rat, who makes a precipitate retreat, instinctively conscious that its natural enemy is near, renders this filthy and disgusting scene still more nauseous. The lady's hoop is a good specimen of the fashion of that day, when this cumbrous, inconvenient, and ungraceful combination of whales' bones was worn by women of the lowest as well as the highest rank.

PLATE VIII.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE GROWN RICH, AND SHERIFF OF LONDON.

"With all thy gettings, get understanding. Exalt her; and she shall promote thee; she shall bring thee to honour, when thou dost embrace her."--PROVERBS IV. 7, 8.

From industry become opulent, from integrity and punctuality respectable, our young merchant is now Sheriff of London, and dining with the different companies in Guildhall. A group on the left side are admirably characteristic; their whole souls seem absorbed in the pleasures of the table. A divine,[161] true to his cloth, swallows his soup with the highest _goût_. Not less gratified is the gentleman palating a glass of wine. The man in a black wig is a positive representative of famine; and the portly and oily citizen, with a napkin tucked in his button-hole,[162] has evidently burnt his mouth by extreme eagerness.

The backs of those in the distance, behung with bags, major perukes, pinners, etc., are most laughably ludicrous. Every person present is so attentive to business, that one may fairly conclude "they live to eat, rather than eat to live."

But though this must be admitted to be the case with this party here exhibited, the following recent instance of city temperance proves that there are now some exceptions:--

When the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Aldermen, Chamberlain, etc. of the city of London were once seated round the table at a public and splendid dinner at Guildhall, Mr. Chamberlain Wilkes lisped out, "Mr. Alderman B--ll, shall I help you to a plate of turtle or a slice of the haunch,--I am within reach of both, sir?" "Neither one nor t'other, I thank you, sir," replied the Alderman; "I think I shall dine on the beans and bacon which are at this end of the table." "Mr. Alderman A----n," continued the Chamberlain, "which would you choose, sir?" "Sir, I will not trouble you for either, for I believe I shall follow the example of my Brother B--ll, and dine on beans and bacon," was the reply. On this second refusal the old Chamberlain rose from his seat, and with every mark of astonishment in his countenance, curled up the corners of his mouth, cast his eyes round the table, and in a voice as loud and articulate as he was able, called "Silence!" which being obtained, he thus addressed the prætorian magistrate, who sat in the chair: "My Lord Mayor, the wicked have accused us of intemperance, and branded us with the imputation of gluttony. That they may be put to open shame, and their profane tongues be from this day utterly silenced, I humbly move that your lordship command the proper officer to record in our annals, that 'two Aldermen of the city of London prefer beans and bacon to either turtle-soup or venison.'"

Notwithstanding all this, there are men who, looking on the dark side, and perhaps rendered splenetic, and soured by not being invited to these sumptuous entertainments, have affected to fear that their frequent repetition would have a tendency to produce a famine, or at least to check the increase, if not extirpate the species of those birds, beasts, and fish with which the tables of the rich are now so plentifully supplied.[163] But these half-reasoners do not take into their calculation the number of gentlemen so laudably associated for encouraging cattle being fed so fat that there is no lean left; or that more ancient association, sanctioned and supported by severe Acts of Parliament, for the preservation of the game. From the exertions of these and similar societies, we may reasonably hope there is no occasion to dread any such calamity taking place; though the Guildhall tables, often groaning under such hecatombs as are recorded in the following account, may make a man of weak nerves and strong digestion shake his head, and shudder a little:--

"On the 29th October 1727, when George II. and Queen Caroline honoured the city with their presence at Guildhall, there were nineteen tables covered with 1075 dishes. The whole expense of this entertainment to the city was £4889, 4s."

To return to the print! A self-sufficient and consequential beadle, reading the direction of a letter to Francis Goodchild, Esq., Sheriff of London, has all the insolence of office. The important and overbearing air of this dignified personage is well contrasted by the humble simplicity of the straight-haired messenger behind the bar. The gallery is well furnished with musicians busily employed in their vocation.

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast."

Besides a portrait of William III. and a judge, the hall is ornamented with a full length of that illustrious hero Sir William Walworth; in commemoration of whose valour, the weapon with which he slew Wat Tyler was introduced into the city arms.

PLATE IX.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE BETRAYED BY A PROSTITUTE, AND TAKEN IN A NIGHT-CELLAR WITH HIS ACCOMPLICE.

"The adulteress will hunt for the precious life."--PROVERBS VI. 26.

From a picture of the reward of diligence, we return to the consequence of sloth. The idle and incorrigible outcast, mature in vice, and lost to society, is here represented in a night-cellar.[164] In this dreary and horrid cavern of vice and infamy he is dividing the spoil produced by robbery with one of his wretched accomplices. The woman that seems his favourite, and in whose garret we saw him in the seventh plate, deliberately betrays him. The officers of justice are entering, and he is on the point of being seized. The corpse of a gentleman, who has been murdered, is with unfeeling indifference put down a cavity made in the floor for the purposes of concealment. To show that the grenadiers company were then, as now, a virtuous body of men, one of them, in a true Dutch attitude, is smoking in the corner. A scene of riot, likely to terminate in blood, passes in the background. The countenances of the combatants, and a noseless woman bringing the porter, are finely marked. A rope, hanging immediately over a fellow who is asleep, should not be overlooked. The watches, which are in a hat, exhibit another instance of Hogarth's peculiar accuracy; each of them is a little after ten. Some cards scattered on the floor show the amusements of this earthly Pandemonium.

PLATE X.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE ALDERMAN OF LONDON; THE IDLE ONE BROUGHT BEFORE HIM, AND IMPEACHED BY HIS ACCOMPLICE.

"Thou shalt do no unrighteousness in judgment."--LEVITICUS XIX. 15.

"The wicked is snared in the work of his own hands."--PSALM XIX. 16.

He who was an industrious apprentice is now an alderman and a magistrate; his depraved and atrocious contrast, who was once his fellow-'prentice, and the last plate exhibited in a night-cellar, is now brought handcuffed before him, and accused of robbery, aggravated by murder. Shocked at seeing the companion of his youth in so degraded a situation, he instinctively covers his eyes. Agitated, trembling, terrified, self-convicted, and torn by remorse, the wretched culprit is unable to support his tottering frame. Did he not lean upon the bar, he would sink to the earth.

His distressed and heart-broken mother intercedes with the swollen and important constable to use his interest for her unhappy son. This application the mighty magistrate of the night answers by--"We that are in power must do justice!" A number of watchmen attend the examination, and one of them holds up the sword and pistols which were found on the prisoner. A young woman[165] bribes the swearing clerk to befriend the one-eyed wretch who has turned evidence against his accomplice, by suffering him to take the usual oath with his left hand laid upon the book, instead of his right.[166]

This debased villain was first introduced to us gambling on a grave-stone; his second appearance was in a night-cellar, where he divided the evening's plunder with the man he now deliberately betrays!

The alderman's clerk is making out a warrant of commitment directed to the turnkey of Newgate.

PLATE XI.

THE IDLE 'PRENTICE EXECUTED AT TYBURN.

"When fear cometh as desolation, and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind: when distress cometh upon them, then they shall call upon God, but He will not answer."--PROVERBS I. 27, 28.

After a life of sloth, wretchedness, and vice, the career of our degraded character terminates at Tyburn. His pale and ghastly look denotes the remorse and horror of his mind; and it must embitter his last moments to hear a Grub Street orator proclaim his dying speech. The ordinary of Newgate leads the procession, but the criminal's spiritual concerns are left to an enthusiastic follower of John Wesley, who zealously exhorts him to repentance.[167] On the right side of the print we see his afflicted mother: her coming to view this dreadful spectacle does not seem consonant to strict propriety, but there have been similar examples. In a cart above her is a curious trio of females; an old beldam, who might have been Sam. Foote's model for Mother Cole, breathing out a pious ejaculation, and swallowing a bumper of spirits at the same moment; a young woman taking a glass from beneath, and a third dissuading a fellow from ascending the vehicle. While a vendor of gingerbread[168] expatiates on the excellence of his delicious cakes, a minor pickpocket purloins his handkerchief. A female grimalkin, enraged at a man oversetting her orange-barrow, is literally tearing his eyes out. To show the reverence which an English mob have for anything that bears the appearance of religion, and the effects which this exhibition has upon their minds, an inmate of St. Giles' seizes a dog by the tail, and is on the point of throwing it at the Methodist parson. A female pugilist, near the centre of the print, is so earnest in punishing a fellow who has offended her, that she neglects her child, which, lying on the ground, is probably destined to be crushed to death. A tall butcher has suspended an old legal periwig on the end of his cudgel: in this, the artist might intend to display an emblem of the sanguinary complexion which marks our courts of justice.[169] The porter, with his pipe; a cripple; the soldier sunk knee-deep in a bog, and two boys laughing at him, are well imagined. Among the figures in the background, we must not overlook a gentleman emphatically called the "Finisher of the law," who sedately smokes his best Virginia upon the gallows.

A carrier pigeon is despatched at the time the criminal arrives at Tyburn.[170] Two initials on the coffin, not having been reversed from the original drawing, are wrong in the print; I. T. instead of T. I.

In the background we have a view of Highgate and Hampstead hills.

The arch look of a young pickpocket, the savage ferocity of a woman tearing a fellow's face, and the yell of another crying the dying speech, are admirably expressed. Many of the smaller figures are full fraught with character; for the grouping, let us hear Mr. Gilpin, with whom I entirely agree:--

"We seldom see a crowd more beautifully managed than in this print. If the sheriff's officers had not been placed in a line, and had been brought a little lower in the picture, so as to have formed a pyramid with the cart, the composition had been unexceptionable."--_Gilpin's Essay._

Two skeletons hanging on the outside of the frame are emblematical; the body of a murderer being usually consigned to Surgeon's Hall.[171]

The trophies, composed of fetters, whips, and halters, with the swords, maces, gold chains, etc., with which the framework of the preceding prints are decorated, must be admitted to be beneath the dignity of historical painting; but considered as addressed to young persons, and exhibiting a view of the different consequences of industry and sloth, are strictly proper.

PLATE XII.

THE INDUSTRIOUS 'PRENTICE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.

"Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour."--PROVERBS III. 16.

In the last print we saw a crowd witnessing the ignominious death of a murderer; in this are a cheerful assembly joining the procession of a chief magistrate; some reeling, some roaring, and all rejoicing.[172]

The scene is laid at the east side of St. Paul's Church, just turning into Cheapside; and in particular honour of this day, the artist has introduced the late Prince and Princess of Wales at a balcony, in view of the pageant. A group on the scaffolding beneath is formed of the most comic characters. Who can abstain from laughter at the city militia, which are below? They were at that time composed of undisciplined men, of all ages and descriptions; young, old, tall, short, crooked, straight, fat, and lean, made up the motley band.