"The fact is, that though compositions of music and colours may illustrate each other in their principles, they very essentially differ in their effects. The notes on a scale in music will range similar to the colours in a rainbow, or to those separated by the prism, but their operations are precisely opposite.
"For example, let all the keys of an harpsichord be pressed down at one stroke, and the ear will be offended with harsh, jarring, and confused sounds; but if you run your fingers along them in succession, it produces a sort of harmony. In colours it is directly the reverse; for though the varied hues of the rainbow strike the eye agreeably at first sight, yet were flickering colours to follow each other in quick succession, the optic nerve would suffer pain in proportion as the tints were more or less vivid, and played in quick or slow time."
These observations are followed by some hints on easy deportment, and succeeded by the following desultory thoughts, which in his manuscript Hogarth entitles "A Supplementary Chapter on Dress:"—
"Dress is so copious a topic, that it would afford sufficient matter for a large volume. The amazing force and folly of fashion is placed in a most ridiculous point of view in an old book called the Artificial Changeling, where the author not only describes the uncouth, wild, and extravagant mode of clothing the body in different ages and countries, but also states many detestable and barbarous customs of whole nations, who mould and torture the human frame to destroy its original form. Some of the customs that he enumerates are, I believe, still practised, particularly in China, where the feet of the females are bandaged to prevent their growing; and among the Hottentots, where, to improve their children's faces, they break the gristles of their noses. Such is the force of habit, that the eye is soon reconciled, and these horrid disproportions and deformities are considered as beauties.
"In this country, fancy and the love of change, to which we may sometimes add public and private interest, have generally given the lead to fashion; nor is it to be objected to,—sumptuary laws are not consonant to the spirit of a free people. In dress nothing need be restrained except the folly (I had almost said wickedness) of changing the form or colour of nature.[70]
"As to the fashion of men's dresses, if they are not rendered inconvenient, it is of little consequence: the tailors may contrive them as they will.[71] But for the sex to whom nature has been so bountiful to disguise their enchanting forms, and sacrifice ease, elegance, and grace on the shrine of fashion, is defying symmetry and thwarting nature, which, in their capricious variations, they should sometimes suffer to take fancy by the hand. The principles laid down for sculpture, etc., will apply to dress; and fitness, propriety, and convenience being first established, it should be rendered pleasing. Attention to a few plain and simple rules would be conducive to its being made so.
"For a degree of uniformity there is a necessity, as without it our habits would be neither commodious nor comfortable; but when uniformity can be corrected by taste, or rendered less obtrusive by slight variations, the appearance will be more graceful and becoming. Thus, feathers, jewels, and flowers should usually be worn on one side of the head.
"Painters describe this disposition of ornament, etc. by the word picturesque, and have contrived what they call a fancy dress. This is wholly at their own disposal, and they profess to combine in it all the principles of beauty. But, unhappily, should their figures walk across the room, these fantastic garments would drop from their shoulders. Were they contrived with a little attention to common sense, they might have their uses. Such a succedaneum would not only keep their works out of the reach of ill-natured critics, by covering false anatomy, etc., but give an artist such latitude for light and shadow as might enable him to shine in the grand historical style; though in painting the manners of the present day, where dress forms a part of the character, he might be totally at a loss. On the same ground that I think it more difficult to delineate scenes built on real life than to display such as originate in fiction, I believe it an easier task to write tragedy than comedy: I mean true comedy, not a Dutch droll. Dress is in some cases an index to the mind, and characters in improper habits would destroy the illusion at the best performed play.