At the bottom a dying Lion is extended, while a Dog (with Minden on his collar, and Honour's a jest, &c. issuing from his mouth) is at once lifting up his leg against the noble brute, and treading on a wreath of laurel. Here lies Honour, is also written on the side of the expiring animal. I have since been assured that this print was by another artist, whose name I omit to mention, because perhaps he would wish it, on the present occasion, suppressed.
[1] This book, I am told, is now translated into French.
[2] One of these productions, however, should be singled from the rest. The print, entitled The Connoisseurs, was suspected to be a work of Hogarth himself. It is placed with some of his other undisputed designs in the back-ground of The Author run Mad (which is known to be one of Mr. Sandby's performances), and has the following reference—"A. his own Dunciad."
[3] Thus the frontispiece to Taste, designed, if not etched by Worsdale (for whose benefit this dramatic piece was performed), and Sawney in the Bog-house, an anonymous satire on the Scotch, that made its appearance near forty years ago, and was revived during the administration of Lord Bute, are at present imputed to our artist, whose name is already engraved at the bottom of the latter.
[POSTSCRIPT.]
The Author of this pamphlet, being convinced that, in spite of all his care and attention, some errors may still be found in his catalogue, list of variations, &c. will think himself highly obliged by any gentlemen who will point them out, and enable him to correct them. Such favours shall be gratefully acknowledged, if the present rude Essay towards an account of Hogarth's different performances should happen to reach another edition.
As in consequence of the extraordinary prices lately paid for the collected works of this great master, certain dealers, &c. are supposed to be assembling as many of his prints as they can meet with,—binding them up in pompous volumes,—writing "fine old impressions" either over or under them—specifying the precise sums pretended to have been disbursed for several of them (perhaps a guinea for a three shilling article)—preparing to offer a few rare trifles to sale, overloaded with a heap of wretched proofs from our artist's more capital performances;—exhibiting imperfect suites of such as are cut out of books; and intending to station puffers at future auctions, whose office will be to intimate they have received commissions to bid up as far as such or such an amount (i. e. the sum under which the concealed proprietor resolves not to part with his ware), &c. &c. it is hoped the reader will excuse a few parting words of admonition. Perhaps it may be in the power of Mrs. Hogarth to select a few sets from such of her husband's pieces as have remained in her own custody from the hour of their publication. Let the multitude, who of course cannot be supplied with these, become their own collectors. Even ignorance is a more trusty guide than professional artifice. It may be urged, indeed, that the proportionate value of impressions[1] can be ascertained only by those who have examined many of them in their various states, with diligence and acuteness. But surely to qualify ourselves for estimating the merit of the curiosities we are ambitious to purchase, is wiser than to rely altogether on the information of people whose interest is commonly the reverse of our own. Let it also be remembered, that the least precious of all Hogarth's productions are by far the scarcest; and that when, at an immoderate expence, we have procured impressions from tankards ornamented by him, or armorial ensigns engraved for the books of his customers, we shall be found at last to have added nothing to his fame, or the entertaining quality of our own collections. By such means, however, we may open a door to imposition. A work like The Harlot's Progress will certainly remain unimitated as well as inimitable; but it is in the power of every bungler to create fresh coats of arms, or shop bills with our artist's name subscribed to them: and wherein will the Lion or Griffin of Hogarth be discovered to excell the same representation by a meaner hand? A crafty selection of paper, and a slight attention to chronology and choice of subjects, with the aid of the hot-press, may, in the end, prove an overmatch for the sagacity of the ablest connoisseur. A single detection of such a forgery would at least give rise to suspicions that might operate even where no fallacy had been designed. How many fraudulent imitations of the smaller works of Rembrandt are known to have been circulated with success!—But it may be asked, perhaps, from what source the author of this pamphlet derives his knowledge of such transactions. His answer is, from the majority of collectors whom he has talked with in consequence of his present undertaking.
He ought not, however, to conclude without observing, that several genuine works of Hogarth yet remain to be engraved. He is happy also to add that a young artist, every way qualified for such a task, has already published a few of these by subscription.