. William Hogarth: painter, engraver, and philosopher. Essays on the man, the work, and the time . de Ticket, the Lottery—a very confusedand obscure allegory, perhaps a sly parody on one ofLaguerre or Thornhills floundering pictorial and Wantonness are drawing lucky tempts Despair, Sloth hides his head behind acurtain ; all very interesting probably at the time, fromthe number of contemporary portraits the plate mayhave contained, but almost inexplicable and thoroughlyuninteresting to us now. The Taste of tJie Toiun, whichis otherwise the first Burlington Gate sa
. William Hogarth: painter, engraver, and philosopher. Essays on the man, the work, and the time . de Ticket, the Lottery—a very confusedand obscure allegory, perhaps a sly parody on one ofLaguerre or Thornhills floundering pictorial and Wantonness are drawing lucky tempts Despair, Sloth hides his head behind acurtain ; all very interesting probably at the time, fromthe number of contemporary portraits the plate mayhave contained, but almost inexplicable and thoroughlyuninteresting to us now. The Taste of tJie Toiun, whichis otherwise the first Burlington Gate satire (not thePope and Chandos one) created a sensation, and itsauthor paid the first per-centage on notoriety, by seeinghis work pirated by the varlets who did for art thatwhich Edmund Curll, bookseller and scoundrel, did forliterature. Burlington Gate, No. i, was published in 1723. Ho-garth seems to have admired Lord Burlingtons love forart, though he might have paid him a better complimentthan to have placarded the gate of his palace withan orthographical blunder. There is in the engraving. A LONG LADDER, AND HARD TO CLIMB. lOI accademy for academy. The execution is far superiorto that of the South Sea, and the figures are drawn withmuch verve and decision. In the centre stand threehttle figures, said to represent Lord Burhngton, Camp-bell the architect, and his lordships postilion. This isevidently a blunder on the part of the first figure is in cocked hat, wide cuffs, and buckledshoes, and is no more like a postilion than I to it the earls poet, and not his postilion, that ismeant} To the right (using showmans language),sentinels in the peaked shakoes of the time, and withoh! such clumsy, big-stocked brown-besses in theirhands, guard the entrance to the fane where the panto-mime of Doctor Fanstns is being performed. From thebalcony above Harlequin looks out. Fanstns was firstbrought out at the theatre, Lincolns Inn Fields, in 23. Ithad so prodi
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