INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, PLATE XII.
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.
The man in a grenadier's cap, with a pot of porter in his left hand, might perform the part of Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.[173] A neighbouring gentleman, in a cut wig, is scarcely able to support his firelock. The fellow firing off his musket exclaims, "Who's afraid?" The next may be a very great man, though nature has treated his exterior, as she did that of our third Richard, rather unkindly, by placing an envious mountain on his back. The hero in a bag-wig, resting upon his arms, is made from a splinter of the monument; "his dimensions to any thick sight are invisible." Far different is the strong-built man of war at his left hand: by his back front he seems to have grown out at the sides; what nature denied in height, she has abundantly made up in breadth. His long sword is so placed as to give the idea of a bluebottle impaled on a pin. A plank, supported by a tub and stool, having given way, two of the fair sex fall to the ground. The most obtrusive figure in his lordship's coach is Mr. Swordbearer, in a cap like a reversed saucepan, which this great officer wears on these grand occasions. The company of journeymen butchers, with their marrow-bones and cleavers, appear to be the most active, and are infinitely the most noisy of any who grace this solemnity.
Near the left corner, a blind man, conscious that he has but a poor chance in a crowd, endeavours to preserve his hat and wig from the depredating multitude. The Bunhill Fields trooper, who leans against a post, with one of his bandeliers in his left hand, has made a little mistake. A young man in the booth above, not having the fear of dignity before his eyes, is eagerly kissing a girl: the lady, irritated at this indecorum, seems likely to leave marks of her talons upon his forehead. At the opposite corner, a vendor of the Grub Street classics proclaims "a full, true, and particular account of the ghost of Thomas Idle, which appeared to the Lord Mayor."
Numberless spectators, upon every house, and at every window, dart their desiring eyes on the procession. Of the figures on a tapestry, hanging from a balcony[174] at the King's Head, I cannot discover the meaning. Two flags beneath are blazoned with the arms of the Stationers' Company; and that in a stand which exhibits the ardent salutation before mentioned, belongs to the pinners and needlers. The cornucopiæ on the outside of the frame are symbolical of that abundance which fills the hands of the diligent.
Many of the characters in this and the foregoing print bear a strong resemblance to some which Mr. Hogarth etched about twenty years before for Butler's Hudibras.
The following year was published a pamphlet, entitled, "The Effects of Industry and Idleness, illustrated in the life, adventures, and various fortunes of two fellow-'prentices of the city of London: showing the different paths, as well as rewards, of virtue and vice," etc. Printed for C. Corbet, at Addison's Head, Fleet Street.
In the chamber of London where the apprentices are bound, these twelve prints very properly ornament the room.