The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 382, July 25, 1829

"The last which I shall notice of this class of productions, is the portrait of the celebrated demagogue John Wilkes. This singular performance originated in a quarrel with that witty libertine, and his associate Churchill the poet: it immediately followed an article, from the pen of Wilkes, in the North Briton, which insulted Hogarth as a man, and traduced him as an artist. It is so little of a caricature, that Wilkes good humouredly observes somewhere in his correspondence, 'I am growing every day more and more like my portrait by Hogarth.' The terrible scourge of the satirist fell bitterly upon the personal and moral deformities of the man. Compared with his chastisement the hangman's whip is but a proverb, and the pillory a post of honour. He might hope oblivion from the infamy of both; but from Hogarth there was no escape. It was little indeed that the artist had to do, to brand and emblazon him with the vices of his nature—but with how much discrimination that little is done! He took up the correct portrait, which Walpole upbraids him with skulking into a court of law to obtain, and in a few touches the man sank, and the demon of hypocrisy and sensuality sat in his stead. It is a fiend, and yet it is Wilkes still. It is said that when he had finished this remarkable portrait, the former friendship of Wilkes overcame him, and he threw it into the fire, from which it was saved by the interposition of his wife."

All the criticisms on Hogarth's moral pictures have an air of originality and freshness of mind, which is so attractive, as to make us regret that we have not room for them. In proof of this, only let the reader turn to Mr. Cunningham's remarks on the Harlot and Rake's Progress, at pages 98 and 99. His descriptions too of the satirical pictures are extremely ludicrous, and in effect second only to painting itself. The following anecdote of the celebrated March to Finchley is curious, though well known:—

"The original painting was, on the publication of the print, disposed of by a kind of lottery. Seven shillings and sixpence were fixed as the price of a print; and every purchaser of a print was entitled to a chance in the lottery for the picture. Eighteen hundred and forty-three chances were subscribed for; a hundred and sixty-seven tickets, which remained, were presented to the Foundling Hospital. One of the Hospital's tickets drew the desired prize; and on the same night Hogarth delivered the painting to the governors, not a little pleased that it was to adorn a public place."

After quoting Walpole's description of Hogarth's Sigismunda, in which he says—

"To add to the disgust raised by such vulgar expression, her fingers were blooded by her lover's heart, that lay before her like that of a sheep for her dinner;—"

Mr. C. observes, "this is very severe, very pointed, and very untrue. The Sigismunda of Hogarth is not tearing off her ornaments, nor are her fingers bloodied by her lover's heart. It is said that the picture resembled Mrs. Hogarth, who was a very handsome woman; and to this circumstance Wilkes maliciously alludes in his unprincipled attack on her husband. 'If the Sigismunda,' says this polite patriot, 'had a resemblance of any thing ever seen on earth, or had the least pretence to either meaning or expression, it was what he had seen, or perhaps made—in real life—his own wife in an agony of passion; but of what passion no connoisseur could guess.' That Mrs. Hogarth sat for the picture of Sigismunda seems to have been known to conscientious John, and this is supported by that lady's conduct to Walpole. This noble biographer sent her a copy of his Anecdotes, accompanied by a courtly and soothing note; but she was so much offended by his description of the Sigismunda, that she took no notice of his present. The widow of the artist was poor—and an opinion so ill-natured—so depreciating—and so untrue, injured the property which she wished to sell: she loved too the memory of her husband, and resented in the dignity of silence the malicious and injurious attack. She considered the present as an insult offered when she had no one to protect her. I love her pride and reverence her affection."

Of Hogarth's house at Chiswick, we have the following slight notice:—

"The time was now approaching when superstition, and folly, and vice, were to be relieved from the satiric pencil which had awed them so long—the health of Hogarth began to decline. He was aware of this, and purchased a small house at Chiswick, to which he retired during the summer, amusing himself with making slight sketches and retouching his plates. This house stood till lately on a very pretty spot; but the demon of building came into the neighbourhood, choked up the garden, and destroyed the secluded beauty of Hogarth's cottage. The garden, well stored with walnut, mulberry, and apple trees, contained a small study, with a head-stone, placed over a favourite bullfinch, on which the artist had etched the bird's head and written an epitaph. The cottage contained many snug rooms, and was but yesterday the residence of a man of learning and genius, Mr. Cary, the translator of Dante. The change of scene, the free fresh air, and exercise on horseback, had for awhile a favourable influence on Hogarth's health; but he complained that he was no longer able to think with the readiness, and work with the elasticity of spirit, of his earlier years. The friends of this artist observed, and lamented, this falling away; his enemies hastened to congratulate Churchill and Wilkes on the success of their malevolence; and these men were capable of rejoicing in the belief that the work of nature was their own."

We are glad to see Mr. Cunningham throwing light on false conclusions drawn from the eccentricities of genius, as in this little anecdote:—

"With Dr. Hoadley, who corrected the manuscript of the Analysis of Beauty for the press, Hogarth was on such friendly terms that he was admitted into one of the private theatrical exhibitions which the doctor loved, and was appointed to perform along with Garrick and his entertainer, a parody on that scene in Julius Caesar where the ghost appears to Brutus. Hogarth personated the spectre, but so unretentive—(we are told)—was his memory that though the speech consisted only of two lines he was unable to get them by heart, and his facetious associates wrote them on an illuminated lantern that he might read them when he came upon the stage. Such is the way in which anecdotes are manufactured, and conclusions of absence or imbecility drawn. The speech of the ghost written on the paper lantern formed part of the humour of the burlesque. Men, dull in comprehending the eccentricities of genius, set down what passes their own understanding to the account of the other's stupidity."

Here our notice of the Life of Hogarth would end, did we not feel inclined to venture a word or two respecting the omission of Hogarth's Tailpiece, engraved in Ireland's "Life," and there described as his last work. With the superstitious tale attached to it almost every one is familiar; yet some notice ought surely to have been taken of the story, even had it only been to expose its falsehood and absurdity.

We find that we have proceeded but half through the volume, so that Wilson, Reynolds, and Gainsborough must remain for another number.

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY

Microscopic Objects

The most delicate test objects for microscopes are the lines on the feathers of butterflies or moths' wings, of which there are many gradations; some easily demonstrated, and others only to be seen with the most powerful reflectors, and to the best advantage by the simple and uncondensed light of the lamp. The hair of a mouse is a very good test object: it is best seen by daylight; the most difficult parts of which are longitudinal lines in the transparent part of the hair, which require high powers. The hair of the bat and seal are also fine tests. The lines on the scales of the diamond beetle, &c. are excellent opaque proof objects. The feet of flies are likewise very interesting.

New Lilac Dyes

Dr. Macculloch has lately produced two fine lilac dyes from plants of domestic growth, not hitherto applied to this purpose. One is from the berry of the Portugal laurel, and the other the black currant. The simplest process with alum is all that is required for either; and as far as his trials go, the best tint is produced by the former fruit.

Dirty Windows

We have frequently remarked small radiant and arborescent crystallizations on dirty windows in London, and have found them to consist of sulphate of ammonia. This salt, or at least, sulphite of ammonia (which becomes sulphate by exposure to air), is an abundant product of the combustion of coal.

Brande's Journal.

Indigo

This valuable plant, which gives rise to as great speculation in India, as hops in England, is much injured by wet weather; although the rapidity of the growth of plants during much rain, in the temperature of the tropics, is extraordinary, yet a proportional deficiency in all that characterizes the vegetable world necessarily follows. This we find to be the case with all forced vegetables; and the mildness of the radish of hastened growth, when contrasted with the highly pungent and almost acrid flavour of the slowly and gradually advanced one, may be adduced as explanatory of this observation. Hence, it is practically well known to manufacturers, that the indigo plant, however fine and luxuriant, as is the natural result of much rain, is very deficient in produce, and a similar loss is experienced even if the plant, without the fall of too much rain, has grown up under cloudy weather. Sunshine, much and continued sunshine, is essentially necessary for the proper exercise of those secretory organs by which this peculiar drug is formed and perfected.

Indigo leaves produce two dyes—blue and yellow; but the refuse leaves, when boiled for an hour and a half, will render the water yellow, tinged with green. This water, kept boiling for two hours, (supplying the loss by evaporation), will, when filtered, afford a precipitate, which, when dried, will in colour be a dun-slate, and in quantity perhaps about equal to the blue extract such leaves have produced. This observation, as it can lead to no practical advantage, is made for the man of science, rather than the man of business.—Mr. C. Weston—in Brande's Journal.

Chain Bridge

Mr. Disney has lately erected at his seat the Hyde, Ingatestone, Essex, a suspension bridge of common chain, which is much cheaper than either wood or brick. It is fifty feet long, and four feet wide. The whole cost of material, and workmanship scarcely exceeded 30l. Upon a rough estimate, a wooden bridge of the same span would have cost from 80l. to 100l., and a high arch probably from 150l. to 200l. The piers or posts supporting the chains are of oak, but should they in ten or fifteen years decay, 10l. in money, and three days in time would set it up again.—Brande's Jour.

Stone Roofs

The Romans employed pumice in building their arched incombustible roofs. This porous material possessed the additional advantage, when combined with good cement, of rendering the arched surface one united petrifaction, opposing (in consequence of its firm union) little lateral pressure, comparatively, against the sustaining walls.

Bonomi, the architect, suggests that the principal cause of the destructiveness of fires in large buildings, is the want of arched surfaces of incombustible materials. This has been disastrously exemplified in the destruction of the choir of York Minster, where the roof of the aisles, which are solidly arched with stone, suffered no injury; while the choir-roof, although much more raised above the action of the fire, has been entirely destroyed by it.

Fossil Saurians

Several beautiful specimens of fossil saurians, or animals of the lizard tribe, have, as our scientific readers are aware, been found at Lyme, in Dorsetshire; but the world would to this day have remained ignorant of the treasures England possessed, but for the patient labours of three female pioneers in this service, viz. Mary Anning, a dealer; Miss Congrieve, and Miss Philpots, residents, who for years had been collecting and preserving these bodies from the wreck of the coast; the two last without any other view than the gratification of a laudable curiosity, and who, with unequalled liberality, communicated their collections to every man of science that visited the place; and it is to liberal minds like theirs, and Miss Bennet's, of Wiltshire that we owe the first rescuing of these natural gems from the spoilers. We copy this from a communication of Mr. Cumberland to Brande's Journal, and are truly pleased to record such amiable examples of female excellence in scientific pursuits. At Dover, Portsmouth, and other places we could name, we obtained the best information respecting the fossils of the coast, from females resident there, and we need not add that this circumstance imparted additional interest to our inquiries.

The Zoological Society

We copy the following from the Report to the Zoological Society, just published:

"In the Museum in Bruton-street various improvements have taken place. Additional cases have been erected, wherever space could be obtained, for the exhibition of the different collections; and two persons have been in constant employment in preparing and setting up the more interesting specimens. An assistant has also been lately added, for the arrangement of the shells, insects, and the other smaller subjects of the collection; and much care has been bestowed upon the various departments of comparative anatomy. An instructive as well as an attractive series in every branch of zoology, but more particularly in the groups of mammalia, birds, and insects, has thus been arranged for inspection. A catalogue of the more important objects in the Museum has been published; and a more detailed list, accompanied with scientific notices of all the species, is in preparation.

"The increase in the number of subjects in the collection during the last year has been considerable, and many of the additions have been of the utmost importance to science. The whole of these, with a few exceptions, have been presented by the friends of the society. A detailed list of these donations which are too numerous for insertion in this report, is laid upon the table; a reference to the contents of which will evince that the spirit of liberality, which laid the foundations of this already valuable collection, has not decreased.

"A very extensive correspondence has been established with naturalists of foreign countries, and persons resident in distant parts, who are anxious to promote the objects of the Society. Through these channels many valuable acquisitions have been already received; and it is expected that much of novelty and interest will continually pour in to increase the attractions of the Museum and Menagerie.

"The Garden in the Regent's Park is the principal source of attraction and of expense. The nature of the soil, which consists of a thick ungrateful clay, increases the cost of every work. The health of the animals requires that oak floors be raised above the surface of the ground; and it is necessary to lay a thick substratum of dry material under every inclosure and every walk. These disadvantages are however amply counterbalanced by its immediate vicinity to the town. The Council have, notwithstanding the nature of the soil, endeavoured to give to the garden all the attractions which good cultivation and an abundance of flowers can afford: and they have to return their thanks for the very liberal supplies for this purpose which they have occasionally received from the Horticultural Society. The resort to the garden has far surpassed the most sanguine expectations of the Council; 112,226 persons have visited it during the last year."

THE NOVELIST

THE SIEGE OF ABYDOS.

A Romantic Tale

(For the Mirror.)

The infidel Turks, ever at variance with the Christians, were, in the reign of king Orchanes, extremely ambitious to possess the famous Castle of Abydos; and accordingly vast preparations were made for a close siege. Previous to the arrival of the Turkish army before the castle, the angelic Sophronia, daughter of the governor of Abydos, was visited by a dream. She thought, that while walking out on a beautiful evening, breathing the fragrant air, and gazing on the brilliant stars, she fell into a loathsome ditch, in which she remained an hour, terrified, and unable to move. At length, a handsome youth passed, and she implored him to rescue her. She did not implore in vain; the young man assisted her out, cleaned her clothes, and comforted her with pleasant words. They then proceeded to a delightful bower, put on costly attire, and the youth regaled the rescued lady with delicious fruits, and sang sonnets on her personal beauty. Sophronia awoke, sad and disappointed, to find that her late bliss was only a dream. In a day or two afterwards, the Turkish army appeared, and a vigorous siege commenced; nevertheless, the Christians stoutly defended the place, and would, ultimately, have obliged the enemy to retire, had no intervention taken place. It happened, unfortunately for the garrison, that a gallant Turkish captain, in the prime of youth, called Abdurachman approached so near to the castle gates, as to be plainly observed by the fair Sophronia, from a small turret window, out of which she had viewed the besiegers. The lady imagined this captain to be the person to whom she was so much obliged in her dream, and rejoiced at the supposed discovery; she hoped that the assailants would be successful in taking her father's castle that she might have an opportunity of falling into the hands of the gallant captain she so greatly admired. The siege still raged with much fury, but was continually repulsed by the brave Christians, insomuch that the Turkish general became disconcerted, and in the evening of the third day after the commencement of the siege, retired to his camp, about a league distant from the scene of action. Sophronia, meanwhile, was agitated at the ill success of the Turks, though she did not despair of seeing the captain again.

She made a confidante of her maid Annis, who undertook, daring as the attempt was, to steal from the castle to the enemy's camp, in order to convey a letter from her mistress to Abdurachman. The intrepid Annis commenced her task in the night: she avoided passing the sentinels and wardens of the castle, but found her way to a postern gate, scarcely known to any but herself. She arrived at Abdurachman's tent; the captain was conversing with his friends about what the general intended to do on the morrow. Annis desired to speak with him in private, to which he consented. She then delivered the letter, which was bound with a lock of the fair writer's hair, and the astonished Abdurachman perused the following:—

"Adored Youth,

"I am passionately in love with you, and am sorry that you have been frustrated in your endeavours to take the castle. As I adore you beyond measure, and shall certainly take poison if you do not succeed; I engage to deliver Abydos with all its riches into your hands, provided you follow my instructions. I advise, that in the morning by sunrise, you raise the siege and withdraw your whole army from the castle, and return not again till you hear from me. My father will be so rejoiced at your departure, that he will be off his guard, and then I can easily conduct you with secrecy into the castle."

The delighted Turk very politely answered this remarkable billet doux, assuring the fair writer that he was at her service, and that he would implicitly follow her directions as to the taking of Abydos. As soon as he had dismissed Annis, he flew with Sophronia's letter to the general, who, upon reading it, expressed great astonishment; he determined to raise the siege the next morning, and resolved to rely fully on the beautiful traitress for the future success of his enterprise. The next day came, and the general raised the siege and departed. The Christians were rejoiced to see it, and in the evening made merry and drunk wine. The governor's daughter took advantage of the garrison at this unguarded moment; and fearing to trust again to the sincerity of her maid, resolved to proceed herself to Abdurachman's tent. Annis led the way. The night was serene, and the light of the moon showed the stately castle of Abydos, dark and majestic. No noise was heard, save the heavy and uniform step of the sentinels, whose bright arms, as they caught the moon's rays, sparkled against the gloomy looking building. Little did the inmates, now as tranquil as the night, dream of being surprised by an enemy; and little did the brave governor imagine that his own beloved daughter, at this moment, was treacherously hastening to a merciless foe, with the intent to conduct him to Abydos! Sophronia reached her lover's tent weary and faint, for she had walked with great haste. She sank into the captain's arms, and then, almost inaudibly, informed him that not a moment was to be lost, and that he must follow her immediately to the castle.

He obeyed, and having formed a litter for the lady, she was borne on the shoulders of four stout Turks. When they arrived at the postern gate, Sophronia told the captain that he, with his men, must first enter the castle, and then kill the sentinels and wardens, after which he would be enabled to give admittance to all his friends. The Turks strictly obeyed the lady, who before the affair began hastened with Annis to her apartment in order to await the issue of her plot. The Turks entered the castle by hundreds, killing all they met, and were soon masters of the place. Meanwhile, Sophronia and Annis, both dreadfully agitated, heard from their chamber the dying groans of the poor Christians. Sometimes the clashing of swords was distinguished, as if a number of persons were engaged in combat; sometimes the loud lamentations of women intervened; and sometimes the voices of the conquerors were alone heard in exultation. At length the door of Sophronia's room burst open, and Abdurachman rushed in to seize her, while Annis, nearly dead with terror, calmly submitted to the grasp of a common soldier who accompanied the captain.

The dreadful scene was acted and over; the Turks were possessors of the famed castle of Abydos, and Sophronia's father, the governor, was hanged. Alas! deluded Sophronia! The faithless Abdurachman, whom she supposed to have seen in a dream, regarded her not; even lots were cast for her, and she fell to the share of one whom she did not know. The beautiful Sophronia took poison and expired.

G.W.N.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

THE LIBERTINE'S CONFESSION

In Imitation of the Writers of the Sixteenth CenturyI'm sad and sore afraid,That fickle, and forsworn,I've sported life away,And now am left forlorn.Poor fool! I dreamt the yearsOf youth would never fly,And pleasure's brimming bowlMethought could ne'er run dry.That woman's bounteous loveShould e'er wax cold for me!It seem'd that she must firstA woman cease to be.Her fondest smiles I thoughtMy rights by charter were;Her sighs, her tears, forsooth,—Whilst I—was free as air.I've knelt at many a shrine,Of wit and beauty too;I've lisp'd light vows to all,And sworn that all were true.My pastime was to gainTheir young and grateful love,Then break the heart I won,And straight to others rove.Ah! wild wit, now at lastThy vagrancies are o'er;The ear and gazing eyeThat you enthrall'd before.No longer hear or see;Whilst those you now would woo,The time-worn truant slight,Nor dream of love with you.New Monthly Magazine.

Dublin is a great city. Dublin, as the late Lord L–th used to say, is "one of the tay-drinkenest, say-bathinest, car-drivinest places in the world; it flogs for divarsion."

THE TOYMAN IS ABROAD

(Concluded from page 46.)

There is a point at which the inconvenience of superfluities so far exceeds their utility, that luxury becomes converted into a perfect bore. What, for instance, but an annoyance, would be the most splendid feast, to a man whose stomach is already overladen with food? Human ingenuity may effect much; and the Romans, by means of emetics, met this emergency with considerable skill; but on a more enlarged experience of general history, it must be conceded, that it is quite impossible to add one more superfluous meal to those already established by general usage. So also in matters of dress, ladies' hats must not be larger than the actual doorways of the country will admit—not at least until time is allowed for a corresponding increase in our architectural proportions. With respect to personal ornaments also, ear-rings must not be so weighty as to tear the lobes of the ears; nor should a bracelet prevent, by its size, the motions of the arm. "Barbaric pomp and gold" is a fine thing; but a medallion, as heavy and as cumbrous as a shield, appended to a lady's bosom, would be any thing but a luxury. So, in the other extreme, a watch should not be so small as to render the dial-plate illegible; nor should a shoe be so tight as to lame its wearer for life. Beauty, it has been said, should learn to suffer; and there are, I am aware, resources in vanity, that will reconcile man, and woman too, to martyrdom; but these resources should not be exhausted wantonly; and in pleasure, as in economy, there is no benefit in lighting the candle at both ends. The true philosopher extracts the greatest good out of every thing; and fools only, as Horace has it, run into one vice in trying to avoid another. Let not the reader, from these remarks, suppose that their author is a morose censurer of the times; or that the least sneer is intended against that idol of all orthodoxy "things as they are." As a general proposition, nothing can be more true, than that whatever is established, even in the world of fashion, is, for the time being, wisest, discreetest, best; and, woe betide the man that flies too directly in its face.