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and the twenty-fourth is decanting. Even the timepiece seems infected with the fume of the liquor, for the hour and minute hands do not agree. In justification of the propriety of giving the priest a corkscrew, the following anecdote was related by Lord Sandwich.-"I was in a company where there were ten parsons, and I made a wager privatelyand won it, that among them there was not one prayer book. I then offered to lay another wager that, among the ten parsons there were half a score of corkscrews-it was accepted, the butler received his instructions, pretended to break his corkscrew, and requested any gentleman to lend him one, when each priest pulled a corkscrew from his pocket." The next work of Hogarth was The Enraged Musician." This sensitive mortal, by the frogs on his coat, appears to be a Frenchman; and by the splendour of his dress and grandeur of his house we at once see that he is one of those successful performers who, with better fortune than Glasgerion, who harped fish out of the water, succeed in fiddling the gold out of misers' pockets. To perplex and distress the refined ear of this delicate Monsieur, the artist has assailed him with such a mixture and uproar of vexatious sounds as defies one to contemplate. It seems impossible to increase his annoyance by the addition of any other din, save the braying of an ass, which Cowper says is the only unmusical sound in nature.

"This design," says Ireland, "originated in a story which was told to Hogarth by Mr. John Festin, who is the hero of the print. He was eminent for his skill in playing upon the hautboy and German flute, and much employed as a teacher of music. To each of his scholars he dedicated one hour each day. At nine o'clock, one morning,' said he, 'I waited upon my Lord Spencer, but his lordship being out of town, from him I went to Mr. V-n, now Lord V- -n; it was so early that he was not arisen,

I went into is chamber, and opening a window sat down on the window seat. Before the rails was a fellow playing upon the hautboy. A man with abarrow full of onions offered the piper an onion if he would play him a tune; that ended, he offered a second for a second tune; the same for a third, and was going on; but this was too much-I could not bear it, it angered my very soul. Zounds, said I, stop here! This fellow is ridiculing my profession-he is playing on the hautboy for onions!""

In the spirit of this story the artist has gone to work. Of the vocal performers we have the dustman, shouting “Dust ho! dust ho;" the wandering fishmonger, calling" Flounders ;" a milkmaid, crying "Milk above! milk below!" a female balladsinger, chanting the doleful story of the "Lady's Fall"-her child and a neighbouring parrot screaming the chorus; a little French drummer beats "ruba-dub, rub-a-dub” without remorse, singing all the time; two cats squall and puff in the gutter tiles; a dog is howling in dismay; while, like a young demon overlooking and inspiring all, a sweep-boy, with nothing un-black about him save his teeth and the whites of his eyes, proclaims that his work is done from the top of a chimney-pot. Of instrumental accompaniments there is good store.--A postman with his horn, a stroller with his hautboy, a dustman with his bell, a paver with his rammer, a cutler grinding a butcher's cleaver; and "John Long, Pewterer," over a door, adds the clink of twenty hammers striking on metal to the medley of out-of-door sounds.

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The following advertisement in the Daily London Post for November, 1740, fixes the date of this amusing production. Shortly will be published a New Print, called the Provoked Musician, designed and engraved by William Hogarth; being the companion to a print representing a Distressed Poet, published some time since. To which will be added

a third, on Painting, which will complete the set; but as this subject may turn upon an affair depending between the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor and the author, it may be retarded for some time." What the affair pending between Hogarth and the city was, no one has informed us. Parsons was at

that time Lord Mayor.

The Four Times of the Day, in four prints, were the next works which appeared. "In the Progress of the Harlot and the Adventures of the Rake, Hogarth displayed," says Ireland, "his powers as a painter of moral history; in the Four Times of the Day he treads poetic ground."

He treads London streets, and finds his materials in its follies. The first scene is called "Morning." The sun is newly risen, and there is snow on the housetops. An old maiden lady, prim, withered, miserly, and morose, is walking to church, with a starved and shivering footboy bearing her prayer book. A more than common sourness is in her ook, for she sees, as if she saw them not, two fuddled beaux from Tom King's Coffee House earnestly caressing two of the daughters of folly. The remains of a night-fire glimmer on the pavement; a young girl with a fruit basket is warming her hands, while a beggar woman, her companion, is soliciting charity in vain from the lady who is on her way to church. The door of Tom King's Coffee House is filled with a crowd of drunken and riotous companions. Swords, cudgels, and all such missiles as hasty anger picks up are employed-and the strife grows fast and furious.-Snow on the ground and icicles at the eaves are a chilling pros pect, but to suit the season and the scene there is an open shop, where liquor is sold; and to meet dis ease there is the flying physician, Doctor Rock, expatiating to a motley and marvelling audience on the miracles wrought by his medicine, which he dispenses, as his signpost shows, by letters-patent

'It is said that the old maiden in this print was the portrait of a lady, who was so incensed at the satire that she struck Hogarth out of her will; she was 'pleased at first, for the resemblance was strong, till some good-natured friend explained it in a way injurious to the fortune of the artist. Churchill, the poet, deprived himself of a legacy in a similar way, by singing of

Famed Vine-street,

Where Heaven, the kindest wish of man to grant,
Gave me an old house and an older aunt.

Tom King's Coffee House was famed for riots and dissipation. The proprietor, Mrs. Moll King, the relict of Thomas, was well acquainted with the magistrates, and suffered in purse, and also in her person, for keeping a disorderly house. Retiring from business, and that bad eminence the pillory, to the hill of Hampstead, she lived on her early gains, paid for a pew in church, was charitable at appointed seasons, and died in peace in 1747.

The second scene is "Noon." A crowd of people are coming from church-an affected Frenchwoman, with a fop of a husband and an indulged child, are foremost. A servant girl, returning with a pie from the baker's, is stopped by a black-a-moor, and from the alacrity with which her cheek and his lips come together, they may be considered as old acquaintances: both victuals and virtue, however, seem in some danger. The most natural portion of the picture is where the poor boy, in placing hastily a baked pudding on the head of a post to "rest himself, has broken the dish and scattered the contents. His mouth is gaping in misery, his eyes are shut, yet running over with tears, and he is scratching his head in a ludicrous agony which surpasses description. A poor, half-famished child is devouring some of the smoking fragments. "The scene is laid," says Ireland, "a: the door of a French

chapel in Hog Lane, a part of the town at that time almost wholly peopled by French refugees or their descendants. The congregation is exclusively French, and the ludicrous saluting of the two withered beldames is national. By the dial of St. Giles's church we see that it is only half-past eleven. At this early hour, in those good times, there was as much good eating as there is now at six o'clock in the evening. From twenty pewter measures hanging on the wall, it would seem that good drinking too was considered worthy of attention."

The third is "Afternoon," and the hour five o'clock. The foreground is occupied by a husband and wife walking out to enjoy the air. What the painter intended the former should be taken for may be guessed by the relative position in which his head and the horns of a neighbouring cow are placed: as for his partner, she is so portly, so proud, so swollen with spite, and saturated with venom, that Hogarth has evidently collected into her looks the malice and the poison of a whole district of false and domineering wives. She is fatigued too with the walk, angry with she knows not what, and obviously looking out for a victim worthy of her wrath. The scene is laid on the bank of the New River, near Sadler's Wells, and includes a publichouse, with the head of Sir Hugh Middleton on its signpost-the only memorial, by-the-way, which London ever raised to the memory of that spirited person. He was an opulent goldsmith, and beggared himself by an undertaking which gave pure water to the city, and wealth to many of those who took up his speculation after him.

The fourth scene is "Night." It was the practice at that time to kindle fires openly in the public streets on occasions of rejoicing, and as this was the twenty-ninth of May, boughs of oak were stuck over signs, and wreathed in the hats of the merry spirits of the hour. London seems to be reeling VOL. I.--K