January 1, 1800. A French Ordinary. Published by S. W. Fores. (See January 2, 1804.)

January 20–3, 1800. Washing Trotters. Published by Hixon, 355 Exeter Change, Strand.—As the title indicates, an etching of a curious couple engaged in the domestic operation of tubbing.

January 20, 1800. Desire, No. 1. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.—'Various are the ways this passion might be depicted: in this delineation the subjects chosen are simple—a hungry boy and a plum-pudding.'

January 20, 1800. Attention, No. 2. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 20, 1800. Hatred or Jealousy, No. 3. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 20, 1800. Admiration with Astonishment, No. 4. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 20, 1800. Veneration, No. 5. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Rapture, No. 6. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson.—'What's life without passion, sweet passion of love?' 'Melody produces rapture, as exemplified in the Jew clothesman's rapturous attention to the vocal strains of the ballad-singer and her family.' A street ballad-singer, with a basket of ballads in slips, and surrounded by her family of children, has thrown a wandering Hebrew into a fit of pious ecstasy by the strains of her squalling voice, helped out by the shrill accompaniments supplied by those of her children.

1800. Desire, No. 7. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson.—'Female attraction is frequently the cause of this passion, as represented in the delineation of the Old Beau and the Sleeping Lady.' A fair young female, fashionably attired, has dropped asleep in an inviting attitude, leaning on a cushion, an old buck, spyglass in hand, is ogling the unconscious beauty.

January 21, 1800. Joy with Tranquillity, No. 8. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Laughter, No. 9. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Acute Pain, No. 10. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp.—'The curious observer of the passions has only to get a careless servant to pour some hot water on his foot, in a case of the gout, and he will soon know the nature of Acute Pain.'

January 21, 1800. Acute Pain (2nd plate), No. 19. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Simple Bodily Pain, No. 11. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Sadness, No. 12. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.—'This passion is represented by an old maid, who is rendered completely miserable by the death of her favourite lapdog.' A 'serious footman' is gravely contemplating the body of a deceased puppy, extended on a velvet cushion, while an antiquated spinster, his mistress, who is smartened up with bows and ribbons, is in the depths of despair.

January 21, 1800. Weeping, No. 13. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Compassion, No. 14. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Scorn, No. 15. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.—'This passion is frequently brought forward when a rich old dowager meets a poor relation.' A stout citizeness is pouting her nether lip, and closing her eyes to the pathetic appeals of a miserable-looking female, whose poverty and leanness offer a striking contrast to the portly city dame, with comfortable muff, resplendent in jewellery and brave apparel.

January 21, 1800. Horror, No. 16. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Terror, No. 17. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Anger, No. 18. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann.

January 21, 1800. Despair, No. 20. G. M. Woodward del., Rowlandson fec. Published by R. Ackermann—'A disappointed old maid and a bachelor are selected as proper subjects to represent the passion of despair.' The old maid, who is far from an attractive example of her tribe, is looking venom and acerbity personified. The old bachelor is also of a flinty aspect, his hands are clasped, thumbs pressed together, and head and eyes uplifted in pious abstraction and contemplation.

February 14, 1800. Beef À la Mode. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. Etched by Rowlandson (companion to Collar'd Pork).—A veritable bovine specimen, a fine Alderney, dressed out in the reigning mode. The fore part in female guise, on the head a gigantic hat of the cart-wheel order, straw trimmed and garnished, huge ear-rings, the extensive muslin 'choker,' a miniature of a bull round the cow's neck, ladies' buckled shoes, and ribboned sandles on the fore legs, and maccaroni's hessians and tassels on the hind ones; a lady's shawl thrown over the shoulders, according to the fashionable costume worn at the end of the eighteenth century.

March 6, 1800. Dr. Botherum, the Mountebank.—From the bustle and life visible on all sides it would seem that the period is fair-time, when the rustics and agricultural population of the vicinity in general flock into the town, holiday-making. A travelling mountebank has established his theatre in the market place; the person of the ingenious charlatan is decked out in a fine court dress, with bag wig, powder, sword, and laced hat complete, the better to excite the respect of his audience; he is holding forth on the marvellous properties ascribed to the nostrums which he is seeking to palm off on the simple villagers as wonder-working elixirs; while his attendants, Merry Andrew and Jack Pudding, are going through their share of the performance. One branch of the mountebank physician's profession was the drawing of teeth; an unfortunate sufferer is submitting himself to the hands of the empiric's assistant. The rural audience is stolidly contemplating the antics of the party, without being particularly moved by Dr. Botherum's imposing eloquence, these vagabond scamps being frequently clever rogues, blessed with an inexhaustible fund of bewildering oratory, and witty repartee at glib command. Leaving the quack, we find plentiful and suggestive materials to employ the humourist's skilful graver scattered around. In the centre, a scene of jealousy is displayed; the beguilements of a portly butcher are prevailing against the assumed privileges of a slip-shod tailor, who is seemingly tempted to have recourse to his sheers, to cut the amorous entanglement summarily asunder. On the left, the promiscuous and greedy feeding associated with 'fairings,' is going busily forward, and on the opposite side are exhibited all the drolleries which can be got out of a Jew pedlar, his pack, the diversified actions of customers he is trying to tempt with his wares, and the bargains for finery into which the fair and softer sex are vainly trying to beguile the cunning Hebrew on their own accounts.

It seems probable that Rowlandson in his print of Doctor Botherum may have had a certain Doctor Bossy in his eye, a German practitioner of considerable skill, who enjoyed a comfortable private practice, said to have been the last of the respectable charlatans who exhibited in the British metropolis. This benevolent empiric, as Angelo informs us, dispensed medicines and practised the healing art, publicly and gratuitously on a stage, his booth being erected weekly in the midst of Covent-Garden Market, where the mountebank, handsomely dressed and wearing a gold-laced cocked hat, arrived in his chariot with a liveried servant behind.

According to the old custom, the itinerant quack doctor, with his attendant gang, was as constant a visitor at every market-place as the pedlar with his pack.

March 12, 1800. Humbugging, or Raising the Devil. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A credulous personage, who, judging from his costume, is in a fair position in life, has called to consult a necromancer. The enchanter has a venerable beard, and a divining rod; according to usage, he has made a circle of skulls, toads, and other inviting objects, in the centre of which, through a stage trap, he is raising the 'very deil,' and has conjured up a pantomimic demon, horned, winged, and grotesquely arranged, holding in one hand a gore-stained dagger, and a goblet of suppositious blood in the other. The knees of the befooled spectator are trembling beneath him; his back is turned to a curtain which conceals a fair enchantress, who is assisting the invocation, and giving a practical turn to the delusion by removing a well-filled pocket-book from the coat-tail of the simple victim. In the background is the traditional whiskered cat, and the folio of cabalistic signs; a stuffed crocodile is suspended from the roof.

March 12, 1800. Hocus Pocus, or Searching for the Philosopher's Stone. Rowlandson del. and sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—Companion plate to 'Humbugging, or raising the Devil.' The artist introduces us to the laboratory of a so-called alchemist. A roguish Jew and his familiar are busily engaged in the transmutation of metals; the servant, with a pair of long-nozzled bellows, is engaged in kindling the furnace, in which is a crucible; various retorts, alembics, and other paraphernalia of the 'black arts,' are scattered about, as well as a formula for 'changing lead into gold;' although the alchemists at best could only contrive to accomplish the reverse transmutation. Suggestive prints are hung on the walls of this chamber of mystery, such as the portrait of the notorious 'Count Cagliostro, discoverer of the Philosopher's Stone,' and the figure of the spurious 'Bottle Conjurer.'

A military officer, in the next apartment, is turning his opportunities to more practical advantage by embracing, with a certain display of ardour, a pretty maiden—who is nothing loth,—the daughter, it appears, of the philosophically minded investigator.

April 1, 1800. A Ghost in the Wine Cellar. Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James's Street, Adelphi.

April, 1800. Caricature Medallions for Screens. Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.

April 20, 1800. Hearts for the year 1800. Woodward inv., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.

May 1, 1800. Cash. Published by R. Ackermann.

May 1, 1800. Bills of Exchange. Published by R. Ackermann.

May 12, 1800. Melopoyn haranguing the prisoners in the Fleet. Hogarthian Novelist. Plate 5.

May 12, 1800. Captain Bowling introduced to Narcissa. Hogarthian Novelist. Plate 6.

May 20, 1800. A Skipping Academy. G. M. Woodward inv., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.

June, 1800. Sketches at the Oratorio. G. M. Woodward inv., Rowlandson sculp.

June 4, 1800. Pictures of Prejudice. Designed by Woodward. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann.

June 4, 1800. Britannia's Protection, or Loyalty Triumphant.—George the Third, his face shown in profile, is standing upright and firm; his left arm is resting on the pillar of Fortitude, Britannia's shield is outstretched for his protection, and her spear is striking at the would-be assassin Hadfield, who, wearing a repellant expression, is slinking down before her: his pistol has fallen from his hand; round his neck is a halter, with the end of which a miniature edition of the Evil One is flying off, crying: 'Hadfield, for thy diabolical attempt thou shalt meet with thy reward!'

June 26, 1800. A Silly. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—An ill-favoured old maid, who is evidently a person of fortune, is seated on her sofa between two admirers, a clergyman and a military officer, who are respectively ambitious of the honour of her hand. Her old-maidish tastes are indicated by the nature of her pets; a monkey, seated in the embrasure of the window, is scratching his ear; he is supported on the opposite side by a parrot, which is screaming with the full force of its lungs.

June 26, 1800. A Sulky. Companion Print to A Silly. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A fat old curmudgeon, a very porpoise in face, expression, and figure, is tippling and dozing in a semi-maudlin state, in front of the fire-place. His fair companion, an elegant young damsel, is dressed in readiness to make her escape into more agreeable society; she is fuming with impatience, but dares not venture to move for fear of arousing the attention of her besotted jailer. Her situation is more tantalising from the circumstance that the maid-servant has brought in a billet-doux from a handsome youth, her admirer, who, all impatience, is looking over the shoulders of his messenger.

July 25, 1800. Collar'd Pork. Companion to Beef À la Mode (see p. 3). Published by Ackermann.—A long-snouted black pig is decked out in the height of fashion, with ample neck-cloth, frill, wig, eye-glass, white ducks, blue coat with roll collar, brass buttons, his tail twisted up with bows, &c., À la queue. He wears Hessian boots, tassels, and spurs on his front legs; pumps with bows, and black silk stockings on his hind legs.

July 25, 1800. The Pleasures of Margate, in four compartments. Published by R. Ackermann.

Morning.—Breakfasting at Michiner's Grand Hotel.
Noon.—Dining at Michiner's Grand Hotel.
Evening.—A drive on the sands.
Night.—At the bazaars. Raffling for prizes, flirtation, &c.

August 20, 1800. Sailors Regaling. Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James's Street, Adelphi.

1800. The Tuileries in Paris.—Original Drawing.

August 20, 1800. Summer Amusement; or, a Game at Bowls. Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James's Street, Adelphi.—It has been a custom immemorial to laugh at the exertions which were made by our ancestors to obtain rational open-air recreation. The fashionable part of society have, for once, found congenial allies in the wits. The papers which doubtless obtained the most popular reception in their day, since they laughed at the simple citizens 'on pleasure bent,' and held up their relaxations to a ridicule which was often neither subtle nor polished, were the essays in the Spectator, Tatler, Guardian, Humourist, &c., which made fun of the countrified loungings of the Londoners. The squibs, in the shape of poetical broadsheets and songs of the Stuart era, against sylvan aspirations, were but re-echoed by the bright and cultivated humourists who flourished when 'Anna ruled the realm.' Sturdy Hogarth, with his pictures, brought the commonplace pleasures—although he was addicted to them with no half-spirit himself—of his neighbours into ludicrous prominence. The Connoisseur, World, Mirror, Adventurer, Observer, Lounger, Looker-on, and even Johnson's Rambler, are particularly caustic on the comic side of humanity, as seen in their out-of-door pastimes. As to the days of transition, when the early Georgian generation was being rapidly submerged and effaced by the tide of progression, both writers and caricaturists combined to satirise cockney jauntings unmercifully. Gillray, Rowlandson, Collings, Boyle, Bunbury, Deighton, Woodward, Nixon, Newton, and a swarm of amateur followers, were always ready to make fun of suburban excursions; such productions were certain to obtain fame for the designers, and a ready patronage at the hands of a public which encouraged similar everyday irony.

It seems, however, now the suburbs have disappeared, where tea-gardens were once abundant—to which, armed with lanterns and in groups, for better security against the knights of the road, footpads, and similar dangers which were then rife, our forefathers repaired with light hearts, released from the culture of Mammon and money-grubbing—that we have lost a great deal which modern improvements are powerless to restore.

A little generation back there were still relics of past pleasure haunts, a Sluice House, a Hornsey Wood House, and numberless similar resorts for the dwellers in Babylon, who sighed to turn, for a brief afternoon of diversion, their respectable backs on groves of brick, and to regale their pastoral-longing eyes with a semblance of the country. Now the monster metropolis, with unsparing strides, has finally absorbed such patches of verdure, as made homely retreats on red-letter holidays; and life is considerably restricted, as regards the variety which an hour's jaunt could introduce into the prosaic current of yearly existence, as far as the boundaries of the giant city are concerned.

A great deal could be written on the defunct pleasure-gardens which once enlivened the outskirts; but their glories are departed, or at best preserved in the satires, literary and artistic, which contemporary humourists levelled at the Georgic-loving citizens who frequented them. Such a suburban retreat, with the motley crowds who disported themselves thereat, is graphically reproduced in Rowlandson's plate of Summer Amusement. Much of the delight was prosaic and toilsome; but, seemingly, good fun was to be had, and people could lay aside their conventional rigidity for once and awhile, when fine weather and the pleasant season tempted them to stray, and leave the everlasting counting-house at home, for a game at bowls and a little wholesome relaxation. The various groups found in the picture are well conceived. Two games are proceeding, into which cits, of various degrees, are throwing their entire energies. The whimsical accompaniments connected with 'taking tea in the arbour' are faithfully seized. The soberer elders are crowding the hospitable 'house of call.' Round the foremost table is gathered a convivial party; the worthy souls are draining a parting bowl, before commencing their return journey, for which the lantern is set on the ground in prudent preparation. A little toasting is going on at the next table, and beyond that an arcadian flirtation is in progress, with various incidents transpiring around, such as the observant philosopher might have noted in 1800, without travelling very far out of his way.

August 30, 1800. Gratification of the Senses À la mode FranÇaise.—(Seeing, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling, Feeling.)

October 1. The Newspaper. G. M. Woodward invt., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

October 29, 1800. Grotesque borders for Rooms and Halls.—Published October 25 and 29, 1800, by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp.

1800 (?). Sterne, L. The Beauties of Sterne. With one plate by T. Rowlandson. 12mo.

1800. Sterne, L. The Sentimental Journey. With plates by Thomas Rowlandson. 12mo.

1800. Yorick feeling the Grisette's Pulse. 8vo.—The interior of the Grisette's Magasin des Modes. The plate is delicately etched. Yorick is seated beside the pretty milliner; the complaisant husband is bowing, grimacing, and attitudinising. A poodle is on a settee. Two blocks, hat and cap moulds, are, with bandboxes, robes, &c., scattered around. Outside is seen a glimpse of the quaint antiquated French street life, such as might be encountered by the sentimental traveller before the Revolution:—priests, monks, portresses, &c., with images of saints at the street corners.

On August 15, 1800, Mr. Ackermann issued at his Repository of Arts, 101 Strand, a series of six plates designed and etched in Rowlandson's boldest and most spirited style; and finished and coloured in almost exact imitation of the original drawings. Each plate contains three large distinct heads, festooned with attributes peculiar to the respective designs. It is not very clear whether these symbolical groupings, which are superior in execution to the average of Rowlandson's published works, were devised to be cut up for scrap-books, screens, or wall borderings; but they have become remarkably scarce since the date of publication, and sets of these typical heads (eighteen in all) are rarely met with at the present date.

Philosophorum.—The head of the philosopher closely resembles the conventional portrait accorded to Father Time, horn spectacles, forelock, grey beard and all. The globe, a sextant, mariner's compass, chart, telescope, dividers, bells, squares, thermometers, &c., make up the symbolical garland which depends from the ears of this emblem of knowledge.

Fancynina.—This figure is borne out by one of the artist's favourite types of female beauty, a well-featured, handsomely made and languishing-looking young lady, wearing a modish hat, all feathered, beaded, and flowered. The portrait of Fancynina is festooned with such emblems of feminine frivolity as French rouge, Court sticking-plaister (for patches), ottar of roses, watches and trinkets, miniatures of admirers, an opera glass, a black domino or half-mask, a huge muff, parasol, fan, &c.

Epicurum.—An old gourmand in a red nightcap, whose flushed and blossoming countenance appears through a goodly string of sausages; a gridiron, a basting ladle, a cucumber, and other indications of creature comforts complete the emblems of this figure.

Penserosa.—The head of a tragic performer, modelled on that of one of the Gorgones is used to illustrate this figure. The Medusa head is entwined with serpents, and wreathed below with a festoon of bays, beneath which hang the dagger and bowl, and the manuscript of Penserosa's tragic part.

Tally ho! rum!—The head of a Nimrod, backed with a huntsman's cap, is the sign-piece of this figure; a corne de chasse is hung round the sportsman's neck, and on it are spurs, horseshoes, whips, a gun, powder-flask, and game bag; a fox's head completes the group of emblems distinctive of Tally ho! rum!

Allegoria.—The head of a rubicund, but young and well-featured, Bacchus does duty for Allegoria; heavy clusters of vine-leaves, and bunches of purple grapes and tendrils crown and surround the bucolic divinity; below is a Silenus mask; bacchanalian flutes, and pipes of Pan, complete the insignia.

Physicorum.—The face of a lean, high-dried, and sharp-featured doctor, with a high, white wig, and a profusion of horsehair curls, figures forth Physicorum with proper character; festoons of bottles of medicine, soporific, strengthening, emollient, purging and sleeping draughts in all varieties, boxes of pills, ointments, drops, prescriptive puffs, quackeries, and the inevitable syringe and clyster pipe, make up the attributes of the physician.

Nunina.—The head of a rosy-cheeked and buxom Nun, her eyes devoutly raised to realms above. Beneath the portrait the crowned and ghastly skull of King Death, a book of devotions, a flagellum for discipline, a crucifix, hour-glass and rosary, and other pious symbols are displayed.

Publicorum.—The face of a fat and rubicund-visaged landlord does duty as the emblem of Publicorum; as may be supposed, the symbols of this personage consist mainly of convivial attributes—tobacco-boxes, pipes, bottles of rum, brandy, and rack; a tankard, limes, lemons, a punchbowl, ladle, &c.

Funeralorum.—The head of a professional mourner, with long crape streamers round his hat, and a mourning cloak. Funeralorum is surrounded by such cheerful attributes as funeral sermons, advertisements of interments, and invitations to the same, burial fees, titles, last wills and testaments, hatchments, Yorick's skull, an hour-glass, and a sexton's pick and spade.

Virginia.—The head of a soured and malignant-looking old maid, whose favourite parrot is screaming in her ear. The vixenish face is festooned with suppositious attributes of old spinsterhood—a group of boxes of snuff, corn-plaisters, padlocks, pincushions, cats-meat, anonymous letters, drops for the colic; while a bag for 'winnings at quadrille' is displayed on the Scandalous Magazine, beside which are perched two spitting and caterwauling old tom-cats.

Hazardorum.—The head given as representative of Hazardorum wears a very disconsolate and downcast look; fortune has not favoured the gambler, as is figuratively evinced by a purse turned upside down, from which the contents are escaping, mortgage-deeds, annuity bonds, Hoyle on Chances, a betting book, a game cock, rackets, dice and a dice-box. The Racing Calendar, playing cards, billiard cues, a loaded pistol, and other suggestive emblems supply the features of Hazardorum.

Battlcorum.—The head of a fierce-looking warrior, with plumed hat, sets forth Battlcorum; warlike attributes surround the stern hero, whose face is grim as war itself. Chain-shot, pistols, shot-belts, a cartouche box, bayonet, sword, gun, drum. &c., help out the martial figure and assist its due signification.

Billingsgatina displays the face of a buxom young fish-girl, topped with a sailor's straw hat, and surrounded by evidences of her fishy profession: strings of eels, lobsters, crabs, cod, oysters, and fish-baskets are introduced to support the character of Billingsgatina.

Trafficorum is represented by a long-haired, hook-nosed, shrewd-eyed Jew pedlar, wearing an unkempt beard; round his neck hangs the suggestive hawker's box, with the multifarious contents of the pack displayed; scissors, tape, ribands, spectacles, purses, razors, combs, knives, forks and spoons, watches, trinkets, necklaces, ear-rings, buckles, and an infinity of similar articles, disclose the identity of Trafficorum.

Barberorum.—The head of a French hair-dresser does duty for this figure; a comb is stuck in the lengthy locks, and a white apron is pinned under the shaven chin. Implements properly pertaining to the barber's calling are introduced to form a trophy; a string of wigs of all colours and shapes, a block, powder-bags, curling-irons, tongs, combs, scissors, tooth brushes, razors and Packwood's strops, flasks of scent, eau de Luce, lotions, boxes of pommades, rouge, &c., furnish forth emblemata of the hair-dressing Barberorum.

Flora is represented by a sweetly innocent flower-seller, whose soft and winning face appears above clusters of roses, lilies, tulips, bluebells, and other flowers, while beneath the attributes of Flora are completed by a basket of fruits and vegetables.

Lawyerorum very significantly closes the series of emblematical heads. The counsel is a hard-featured, sharp, close, shrewd, and long-headed looking individual, attired in his horsehair wig, and festooned around with the sweets of his profession—Affidavits, SubpoenÆ, Perjuries, Bankrupts enlarged, 'Wills made on the shortest notice,' Writs of Error, Clausum Friget, Bills of Costs, Declarations, Actions between John Doe and Richard Roe, Warrants for assaults, Habeas Corpus, Suits in Chancery, Lists of Informations, Quirks, Quibbles, Briefs, Title-deeds, Statutes at large, bags of causes, ponderous legal volumes; the emblemata are significantly supported by a well-filled brief bag, plethoric with 'cash received on clients' accounts, not paid over.'

1800. A Peep into Bethlehem.

The bard Peter Pindar is leaning his elbows on a sheet of verses lately commenced, 'An Ode to Paine,' his poems the 'Lousiad,' 'Pension,' 'Ode upon Ode,' &c., are scattered on the ground. Burke, with a shaven head, and wearing a rosary round his neck, is declaiming impassioned eloquence, while his foot is trampling upon two volumes, the 'Rights of Man,' and 'Common Sense,' with Peter Pindar's 'Ode upon Ode.'

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 1, A Publican. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—The parlour of a country public-house, hung round with pictures on equestrian subjects, after the manner of the inimitable gallery of Professor Gambado: Horse Accomplishments, introducing such peculiarities as An Astronomer, or Star-gazing Steed; An Arithmetician, where the animal is working out problems with his nose on the ground; A Loiterer, where the horse pauses to ruminate, &c. The publican is drinking in true old-fashioned landlordlike style with the squire, a Tony Lumkin of a landed proprietor; mine host wears a red nightcap, and clean white sleeves, apron, and stockings. Tony Lumkin has been trying to palm off an old story on his friend, but the landlord's experience is too much for him. 'Come, squire,' he cries, 'that won't do; that's Joe Miller, I'm sure, page 490.'

Country Characters. No. 2, A Justice. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

Country Characters. No. 3, A Barber. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A stout gentleman, divested of his wig, has sat down for the tonsorial process, holding in his lap the London Gazette Newspaper; the village Figaro, a highly-dried and austere personage, of marked political proclivities, has fixed his melancholy eyes on the latest intelligence, while, not to waste time, he is pursuing the operation of shaving his unhappy victim; simultaneously the edge of his razor-blade is taking an upward tendency, and his right hand is sawing away at the sitter's olfactory organ, while his left holds that important member immoveable. 'They write from Amsterdam,' reads the preoccupied barber; while the gentleman in the seat of torture, writhing with pain and apprehension, vehemently shouts: 'Halloh! you sir,—what, are you going to cut my nose off?'

The remainder of the series does not require a more particular description.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 4, Footman. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 5, Tax-gatherer. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 6, Squire. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 7, Vicar. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 8, Doctor. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 9, Exciseman. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 10, Steward. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 11, Attorney. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800 (?). Country Characters. No. 12, London Outrider, or Brother Saddle-bag. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 1, The Dinner Spoil'd. G. M. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A family party sitting down to the diurnal repast. The head of the house is an ill-favoured person, of advanced age and wearing a tremendous wig. Before him is a leg of mutton, and, knife and fork in hand, he is considering the joint with the eye of disfavour. 'It's red!' he grumbles, 'not fit to eat!—these are the blessed effects of boiling mutton in a cloth!' His wife is regarding the dinner with consternation; one son is opening his eyes, and 'making a mouth' apprehensive of losing his dinner; another youth bears a look of absolute dejection; the family circle is completed by the addition of a queer poodle, seated on his hind legs, and wearing a disappointed look, like the rest of the diners. An appropriate pair of figures, Peace and Concord, are hung on the wall by way of pictures.

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 2, Late Hours. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 3, An Anonymous Letter. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 4, A Return from a Walk. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A venerable and somewhat decrepit spouse has been for a 'constitutional.' On his return he is gratified with the discovery of a very interesting domestic tableau: his young and pretty wife is fast asleep on the knee of a dashing officer, who, seated on the family sofa, is also slumbering blissfully, with one arm round the waist of the faithless wife, while his hand is clasping that of the lady, one of whose arms tenderly encircles the neck of her martial admirer. The rash intruder on this scene, with good reason, is much shocked at the situation, and is exclaiming in dismay, 'My wife! as sure as I am a haberdasher.'

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 5, Killing with Kindness. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—The victim to ill-directed matrimonial attentions is a stout countrified old gentleman; he is seated in his arm-chair, very much at the mercy of two fair and youthful tormentors, whose exertions on his behalf are probably not disinterested. The wife, a very stylish damsel, seemingly young enough to be the daughter of her embarrassed spouse, is leaning on his chair and pressing him to partake of a dish of fruit, and insisting, 'You must have some apricots, my love!' while her sister, patting the husband affectionately on the shoulder, is forcing a bunch of grapes into his mouth, which he has incautiously opened, to express his dissent: 'Just take these grapes, brother-in-law, you never eat finer!' The old gentleman, who shrewdly values this devotion at its worth, is crying: 'I wo'nt eat anything more, I tell you—I shall be choked—got an eye to the estate, I suppose!'

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 6, A Fashionable Suit. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—The tailor, with measuring-tape on shoulder and shears in pocket, has brought home a new suit, into which an ill-made and clumsy-looking personage has, with some difficulty, managed to thrust his limbs. The coat is that very unbecoming garment, fashionable at the date of the etching, and known as a Jean de Brie—a close-fitting, swallow-tailed garment, with a hump-like high collar, and sleeves tight to the shoulders, which were distended by a gouty puff, giving a generally distorted appearance to the back of the wearer. The victim is contemplating his uncomfortable suit in a looking-glass held by the tailor, who is dismayed at the indignant protest of his client: 'Why, you have put me a hump upon each shoulder, and here's a pair of Dutchman's breeches that would hold provision for a marching regiment; well, I tell you what, Master Tailor, d—— me if I would go to our club such a figure for fifty pounds!' The snip is assuring him in reply: 'Made entirely to your lady's orders, your Honour, I assure you she said now you was married you should look like the rest of the world.'

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 7, Washing Day. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A stout and comfortable-looking gentleman, whose features wear a very sulky and discontented expression, is giving one hand to a cheerful old 'chum' from the country, and pointing with the disengaged hand to two stout wenches deep in the washing-tubs: 'Ah! my old friend,' cries the host to the traveller, 'I wish you had called at some more convenient time, but this is washing day—I have nothing to give you but cold fish, cold tripe, and cold potatoes, you may smell soapsuds a mile! Ah Jack! Jack! you don't know these Comforts! You are a bachelor!'

1800. Matrimonial Comforts. No. 8, A Curtain Lecture. Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—The bedchamber of a couple who seem to disagree. The clock points to 'five o'clock in the morning,' and the husband, night-cap on head, and his face bearing an expression of injured martyrdom, has clasped his hands in despair of obtaining rest from the energetic denunciations of his wife, who, leaning over him in a commanding attitude, is pouring forth her 'Caudle-like' remonstrances over the prostrate sufferer: 'Yes, you base man, you; don't you eat, drink, and sleep comfortably at home? and still you must be jaunting abroad every night. I'll find out all your intrigues, you may depend on it.'

1800 (?). Preparation for the Academy, Old Joseph Nollekens and his Venus.—John Thomas Smith, many years Keeper of the prints and drawings in the British Museum, and better known by his works on metropolitan antiquities, to which he furnished etchings, as well as archÆological researches, has left us one of the chattiest and most eccentric biographies to be found in the annals of literature—the Life of the Sculptor Nollekens, whose pupil he was. Much as we are indebted to 'Antiquity Smith' for the whimsical anecdotes he has imported into his unequivocally entertaining pair of volumes, which touch freely upon contemporary men and things under their most familiar and every-day aspect, we cannot fail to feel a passing regret that the versatile keeper has forgotten to make any anecdotal mention of his friend Rowlandson, with whom he was on terms of cordiality. The caricaturist had presented, at times, some of his most interesting drawings to 'his old friend John Thomas Smith,' as he has taken care to inscribe on the margins, with his autograph; the best of these is possibly, Drawing from the Life-School at the Royal Academy—a subject upon which both the humourists were well informed, since they had worked there as students, and were more or less acquainted with all the artists of the day, and, moreover, it being impossible to overlook such points, with their keen sense of the eccentric; they had noted—the one with his pencil, and the other with his pen—all the striking peculiarities, personal or professional, of their numerous associates. The latest portrait the present writer has seen of our artist is one drawn with a pen in outline and tinted with Indian ink by the worthy keeper, one day when the caricaturist was visiting the Print Room of the British Museum, Rowlandson being, at that time, well advanced in years. The sketch is that of a large and decisive-looking elderly gentleman, with a bald head, firmly-cut features, and wearing big old-fashioned spectacles; this portrait was taken while the subject was stooping to examine a drawing. Beneath it John Thomas Smith has inscribed the particulars under which he came to draw the portrait of 'his old friend.'

The grave omission with which we have to charge Nollekens' biographer, usually so amazingly fertile in individualistic traits of everyone he knew—and he seems to have been fairly acquainted with, or to have something amusing to impart about, nearly everybody of any note—in respect to the caricaturist, of whom his writings make no sort of mention, is the more to be regretted, since it was probably a sly hint imparted by 'Antiquity Smith' which produced the picture of the gifted old miser at work on one of his cherished subjects—a whimsical study, doubtless founded on a special visit of observation, instituted, with Nollekens' old pupil, for the very purpose. As regards the sculptor's portrait, which is seemingly caricatured, John Thomas Smith comes in as aptly with his description[1] as if the two sittings had taken place simultaneously, and the biographer and artist had worked en collaboration:—'His figure was short, his head big, and it appeared much increased by a large-crowned hat, of which he was very fond. His neck was short, his shoulders narrow, his body too large, particularly in the front lower part; he was bow-legged and hook-nosed; indeed, his leg was somewhat like his nose, which resembled the rudder of an Antwerp packet-boat; his lips were rather thin, but between his brows there was great evidence of study.'

As to 'his Venuses' Mrs. Nollekens invariably continued to express the most derogatory opinions, since she regarded his fair models as 'abandoned huzzies, with whom she had no patience,' regarding her eccentric spouse as quite on their level, for she cherished the extraordinary conviction that after his marriage he ought to have 'dispensed with such people.' While Mrs. Nollekens was unduly mindful of her husband's favourite models, it seems these ladies, under altered circumstances, occasionally amused themselves by reminding the sculptor of their former acquaintance, on which pleasant fact his biographer does not fail to enlarge, in more than one instance:—

'Our sculptor would sometimes amuse himself, on a summer's evening, by standing with his arms behind him at the yard-gate, which opened into Titchfield Street. During one of these indulgences, as a lady was passing, most elegantly dressed, attended by a strapping footman in silver-laced livery, with a tall gilt-headed cane, she nodded to him, and, smiling, asked him if he did not know her. On his reply that he did not recollect her, "What, sir!" exclaimed she, "do you forget Miss Coleman, who brought a letter to you from Charles Townley, to compare limbs with your Venus? Why, I have been with you twenty times in that little room, to stand for your Venus." "Oh! lawk-a-daisy, so you have!" answered Nollekens. "Why, what a fine woman you're grown! Come, walk in, and I'll show you your figure—I have done it in marble." After desiring the man to stop at the gate she went in with him; and upon seeing Mrs. Nollekens at the parlour-window, who was pretending to talk to and feed her sister's bullfinch, but who had been informed by the vigilant Bronze (the eccentric maid-servant of this odd pair) of what had been going on at the gate, she went up to her and said, "Madam, I have to thank——." Mrs. Nollekens then elevated herself on her toes, and, with a lisping palpitation, began to address the lady. "Oh, dear," observed Miss Coleman, "and you don't know me! You have given me many a basin of broth in the depth of winter, when I used to stand for Venus." Mrs. Nollekens, not knowing what to think of Joseph, shook her head at him as she slammed the window, at the same time exclaiming, "Oh, fie! Mr. Nollekens! Fie! fie!" Bronze assured me that when her master went into the front parlour he had a pretty warm reception. "What!" said her mistress, "to know such wretches after you have done with them in your studio!"'

In Rowlandson's picture the sculptor is actually at work on a Venus and Cupid; one of his most successful models.[2]

1800. Rainbow Tavern, in Fleet Street, in 1800.

1800. Remarks on a Tour to North and South Wales in the year 1797, by Henry Wigstead, with plates from Rowlandson, Pugh, Howitt, &c. (Aquatinted by J. Hill.) London: Published by W. Wigstead, 40 Charing Cross. 8vo.—The particulars of the tour undertaken under these auspices are thus briefly set forth by one of the travellers:—

'The romantic and picturesque scenery of North and South Wales, having within these few years been considered highly noticeable and attractive, I was induced to visit this Principality with my friend Mr. Rowlandson, whose abilities as an artist need no eulogium from me. We left London in August 1797, highly expectant of gratification: nor were our highest hopes in the least frustrated.

'At the time of our excursion I had no idea of submitting to the public any of our minutes or sketches; but, as several of the subjects amongst our scenery have become topics of admiration, as well to the artist as cursory traveller, I have in the following sheets endeavoured to give a faint idea of their beauties; accompanied by some short remarks on the road, merely intended as a sort of vade mecum to stimulate the readers to further and more important enquiries; and in order, if possible, that they may, by being apprised of many inconveniences we experienced, be enabled to avoid them.'

Plates.

• Coventry, with a view of the effigy of Peeping Tom, and the King's Head. By T. Rowlandson.
• Wolverhampton. The Market, Bevan's Toy Shop, and the Church. By T. Rowlandson.
• Langollen.
• The King's Apartments, Conway Castle.
• Penmanmawr. H. Wigstead, del.
• Caernarvon.
• Snowdon, from Llanberris Lake. H. Wigstead, del.

Speaking of the natives of Llanberris, Wigstead describes them in such picturesque terms that we are tempted to quote the paragraph:—

'The people here are really almost in a state of simple nature. The value of money is scarcely known; they pay the rent of their premises in cattle generally, which they breed on their land. Flesh is scarce ever tasted by them; and, except when visitors leave behind remnants of wine, ale, &c., milk is the principal beverage that passes their lips. They are remarkably observant of any decorations worn by ladies, such as beads, laces, and feathers, which strengthened my opinion of their similitude with the Otaheiteans, &c. These they admire, and handle with a sort of rudeness bordering on savage manners, likely to raise alarm in the breast of the fair wearer.'

• Nantz Mill and Bethgellert. By T. Rowlandson.
• Pont Aberglasslyn. By H. Wigstead.
• Festiniog. By T. Rowlandson.
• A Welsh Landlady (fac-similed from the original drawing). By H. Wigstead.
• Waterfall near Dolghelly.
• Aberystwith.
• Cardigan. T. Rowlandson, del.
• Inside of a Kitchen at Newcastle (near Carmarthen). By T. Rowlandson.

The latter subject pictures forth a capital interior, in Rowlandson's own graphic manner. A turnspit is represented in his wheel, with the chain attached to the spit, for roasting the joint before the fire. It is reasonable that these poor creatures, tired of the squirrel-like performance, should have welcomed the mechanical contrivance of the roasting-jack.[3] The tourist describes one difficulty the epicure encountered under the ancient state of things:—'Newcastle is a pleasant village; a decent inn here; a dog is employed as turnspit. Great care is taken that the animal does not observe the cook approach the larder; if he does he immediately hides himself for the remainder of the day, and the guest must be satisfied with more humble fare than intended.'

• Swansea. By T. Rowlandson.
• Cardiff Castle. By T. Rowlandson.
• Caerphilly Castle. By T. Rowlandson.
• The Hanging Tower at Caerphilly. By H. Wigstead.
• The Union of the Wye with the Severn, from Chepstow.
• Tintern Abbey.
• Raglan Castle. By T. Rowlandson.