January 7, 1785. The Fall of Achilles.—It was evident from the first that the chances of the members of the late Coalition Ministry returning to power were weakened in the new Parliament, and it soon became obvious that, even as an Opposition, their party was without either weight or influence. Fox in looking round the recently elected House found himself surrounded by country gentlemen, Pitt's following, whose faces were unfamiliar to him. Pitt was firmly settled, the unquestioned master of the situation. It is the youthful Premier who has come forth, in the character of Paris it is presumed, with a bow and a quiver of arrows, the better to shoot Whiggism on the wing; he has just sent a bolt straight into the flying Opposition; the arrow has lodged in the heel of the mighty Fox, who is represented double the size of his triumphant adversary.

The Whig chief is disabled, in spite of his armour, and he is lying at the mercy of the enemy.

The turns of North and Burke seem likely to follow; the prostrate form of Fox is tripping up his friend's retreat; North's sword and buckler seem of no service to him; he is crying in perplexity—

Burke is trying to make good his escape.

January 24, 1785. Mock-Turtle. Published by S. W. Fores.

March 2, 1785. The Golden Apple, or the Modern Paris. Published by J. Phillips, Piccadilly.—The Prince of Wales is represented in the enviable position of Paris, deciding between the respective attractions of the three Duchesses, Rutland, Devonshire, and Gordon, the rival luminaries whose brilliancy dazzled society, and whose beauties graced the Court of the Prince of Wales. A gallant songster of the day has perpetuated the charms of this dazzling trio in the following lines, appropriate to Rowlandson's agreeably-expressed cartoon:—

March, 1785. The Admiring Jew. (Etched 1784.) Published by T. Smith, 6 Wardour Street, Soho.—An old Jew, who is evidently a man of substance, but awkward, ugly, and ill-bred, is twiddling his fingers and thumbs and pouring soft persuasions into the ear of a handsome and well-dressed lady, who is apparently a person of fashion.

March 7, 1785. Defeat of the high and mighty Balissimo Corbettino and his famed Cecilian Forces, on the plains of St. Martin, on Thursday, the 3rd day of February, 1785, by the Champion of the People and his Chosen Band.—Fox, at the head of his party, whose arms are legal weapons, such as Law, Eloquence, Perseverance, and Truth, is routing and putting to flight the combined forces of his opponents, led by Sir Cecil Wray and the High Bailiff, Corbett. At the Westminster Election it will be remembered, Fox had gained the victory over his antagonists; and the Scrutiny, moved for by Sir Cecil Wray, being concluded, the proper return was directed to be made; and, as we have mentioned, the successful candidate brought an action and recovered heavy damages against the High Bailiff (who had made himself the tool of the Ministerialists). Fox is protected by his buckler, inscribed 'Majority 38;' he is sweeping away the 'Cecilian forces' with the sword of 'Justice;' a laurel crown is placed on his brow by a celestial messenger, who is also charged with the decision of the Court—'It is ordered that Thomas Corbett, Esq., do immediately return.' Fox is declaring, 'The wrath of my indignation is kindled, and I will pursue them with a mighty hand and outstretched arm until justice is done to those who have so nobly supported me.' Sir Cecil Wray's shield of Ingratitude is no defence, and his weapon has snapped short; he is crying in despair, 'My knees wax feeble, and I sink beneath the weight of my own apostacy!' The High Bailiff is thrown down; he confesses, 'My conscience is now at peace;' an ally is crying, 'Help, help! our chief is fallen. O conscience, support me!' Corbett's lawyers have turned their backs on the cause of the client: 'Nor law, nor conscience, nor the aid of potent Ministers, can e'er support the contest 'gainst such a chief!' 'Our support is gone and we are fallen into a Pitt; yea, even into a deep Pitt!'

March 27, 1785. The surprising Irish Giant of St. James's Street. 'The surprising Irish Colossus, King of the Giants, measuring eight feet ten inches; noble Order of St. Patrick, &c.'—The figure of the famous Irish Giant is drawn with skill and originality by Rowlandson. The person of this colossus, although gigantic, is graceful, and his proportions are such that the spectators who surround him are apparently dwarfed to half the usual standard. The giant's right hand is resting on the head of a military commander, the tallest man in the room, who, while standing bolt upright, does not reach much above the waistband of the Irish mammoth. Another officer, while standing on tiptoe on a chair, is still a full third short of the height of the prodigy. The ladies are struck with wonder at such gigantic limbs, and one of them is comparing her tiny foot with the large and well-proportioned member of the giant; while some of the audience are investing themselves in his top-boots. The skeleton of this remarkable person is preserved in the Hunterian Museum, College of Surgeons. 'Mr. Lynn related to-day that the surgeons, in spite of the vigilance of the Irish Giant's friends, obtained the body for dissection. They made several attempts to bury it in the Thames, or to convey it to Dover. But the body-hunters were too keen for all they aimed at; and after keeping the corpse fourteen days they sold it to John Hunter for 100l. The heart was preserved, and was very large.... The stature of the skeleton measures eight feet two inches.'—'MS. Journal of Captain E. Thompson, R.N.' (Cornhill Magazine, May 1868.)

April 12, 1785. The Wonderful Pig. Published S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.—The artist has given a grotesque representation of the learned hog, spelling his words before a delighted audience; the individual characteristics of the spectators are capitally diversified; their actions and groupings are, as usual, marked with vivacity. According to a placard over the mantel-piece of the hall in which this intellectual entertainment was offered we learn: 'The surprising pig, well versed in all languages, perfect arithmetician, mathematician, and composer of music.'

May 27, 1784. Verses published 1785. The Waterfall, or an Error in Judgment. Published by Wallis, Ludgate Hill.

The incident on which this print was founded occurred, according to the magazines, &c., in 1785; and, as numerous illustrations appeared at the time, it seems that the artist has put the date of the year wrongly. The Waterfall represents the Court of King's Bench in an uproar. The members of the Bench and the Bar, counsellors, attorneys, and clients, suitors and witnesses, are taking to flight indiscriminately, trampling over one another in their precipitate retreat, tumbling down the stairs of Westminster Hall, while robes, wigs, and briefs are lost in the struggle.

Rowlandson's illustration of this scene of consternation is used as the heading for a song to the tune of 'The Roast Beef of Old England.'

According to the song the recitative relates:—

1785. Comfort in the Gout. (See July 1, 1802.) Republished 1802.

June 28, 1785. Vauxhall Gardens. Engraved by R. Pollard, aquatinted by F. Jukes. Published by John Raphael Smith.—It will be remembered by the reader that, in the earlier part of this sketch of Rowlandson's Life, Works, and Times, special reference is made by the artist's friend and the frequent companion of his adventures, Henry Angelo, to their expeditions to Vauxhall Gardens to study character. The varied humours discovered at this popular resort employed Rowlandson's pencil frequently, as we are told in the Memoirs. It seems, on the authority of those who were most intimate with the caricaturist, and who were also thoroughly well acquainted with the leading examples of his skill, that Vauxhall Gardens may be accepted as his chef d'oeuvre in the general estimation. We can compare it to his drawing of the Tuileries Gardens, which is even fuller of diversified groups.

In the famous picture of Vauxhall we have the Rotunda, a marvellous construction, built from the designs of an inventive carpenter, a modest genius, who obtained a certain celebrity for his ingenuity.[27] 'The gilded scallop-shell,' described by Thackeray in the Vauxhall episode which is introduced in the opening of Vanity Fair, was as it appeared within the writer's recollection, a melancholy, tawdry substitute for the vanished splendours as noted in Rowlandson's drawing. A portly lady, standing in front of the orchestra, is warbling ballads to the highly genteel company, the patrons of the entertainment; of the performers we are able to offer but scanty particulars.

The figure of the fair vocalist is evidently intended for that of Mrs. Weichsel, a Vauxhall favourite, already mentioned as the mother of the great Mrs. Billington, the pride of English operatic celebrities. It was at Mrs. Weichsel's benefit, which Rowlandson attended at 'the little theatre in the Haymarket,' that our artist produced a sketch of this musical family. To return to Vauxhall, Angelo and other informants supply us with a hint or two of the company. Daniel Arrowsmith was engaged as one of the principal singers, 'where Mrs. Kennedy and that capital bass, Sedgwick, entertained the public for several seasons.' Joe Vernon, of Drury Lane Theatre, is mentioned among the performers. Barthelemon was leader of the band; Fisher played the hautboy; and Mr. Hook was conductor and composer.

To describe the visitors: the most conspicuous figures, which occupy the centre of the picture, and are exciting the admiring regards of the frequenters of Vauxhall scattered around them, are understood to be intended for the fascinating Duchess of Devonshire and her sister, Lady Duncannon. Among the 'freaks of folly' recorded by our invaluable authority Angelo he mentions having frequently 'seen many of the nobility, particularly the Duchess of Devonshire, &c. (the '&c.' expressing a whole crowd of fashionable notorieties), with a large party, supping in the rooms facing the orchestra, French horns playing to them all the time.'

Captain Topham, the macaroni-scribbler of fashionable intelligence and genteel scandalmonger to The World, a newspaper of which he was conjointly proprietor, editor, and principal contributor, is standing upright as a post, dressed in a smart uniform, and quizzing the fair through his glass. A stout old Commander, stranded on shore, with only one eye and one leg left from his naval glories, is planted, lost in admiration, on the Duchess's right. This gallant veteran is understood to represent Admiral Paisley, the reputed original, according to the caricaturist, who has drawn his portrait more than once, of 'The Tough Old Commodore'—

A clerical person over the shoulder of Lady Duncannon is a free rendering, it is hinted, of Bate Dudley, who was the hero of a somewhat notorious Vauxhall adventure. By the side of the reverend sable-clad editor of the Morning Post stands a handsome figure, dressed in full Highland costume, with a veritable claymore under his arm, of which the bearer was reported to well know the use; this gentleman's person is reported to be introduced as a compliment to another editor, James Perry, of the Morning Chronicle, who was, Angelo relates, very expert with the Highland broadsword, its exercise being his favourite diversion; 'he might be frequently met at masquerades and places of entertainment, dressed in the costume of a Highlander, with a party of Scotch lassies, dancing Scotch reels. For variety of steps, Highland flings, &c., he was particularly noted; crowds collected round him.'

Another conspicuous group introduces the Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Fourth, then a sweet youth, whose persuasions were supposed to be irresistible, and 'whose smile was victory;' he is represented whispering soft flatteries in the ear of a not unwilling fair, whose right hand is held captive under the arm of a gentleman, presumably her better half. This tender situation is reported to indicate a well-known episode in the career of the Heir Apparent, which, although somewhat threadbare, still retains an air of romance. 'Prince Florizel,' wearing his brilliant star on his breast, is addressing himself covertly to the most conspicuous figure of the party, the captivating Mrs. Robinson by general acceptation, the graceful Perdita, in connection with whom, as the artist has drawn him, the Prince is said to have

The lady is coyly trifling with a trinket suspended by a chain round her shapely throat, possibly the identical locket affectingly alluded to by the 'British Sappho' (as not impartial admirers subsequently dubbed the fair poetess) in her Memoirs; this gage d'amour, which is almost historical in the chronicle of small affections, containing Prince George's portrait, then a handsome, fine-complexioned youth, with a profusion of fair hair, as painted in miniature by Meyer, was presented in an early stage of the flirtation to the lady, through Lord Malden, the Leporello of the transaction. Within the case of this tribute of tenderness was a heart, appropriately cut in paper, on one side of which was inscribed, 'Je ne change qu'en mourant;' and on the other, 'Unalterable to my Perdita through life;' a lover's protestation which was not remarkably verified by the subsequent inconstancy of the impressible Florizel.

Within a supper-box—one of those grotesque-looking cabinets which many who have visited the shades of Vauxhall may still bear in vivid remembrance—is assembled another convivial party, the members of which have been described—we are inclined to suspect without any sufficiently valid foundation—as the representatives of an illustrious and very familiar literary coterie. A stout personage, in the centre, of massive proportions, has been adopted as a free rendering of the person of the famous Doctor Johnson, who is pictured as characteristically intent on his supper, and indifferent alike to his company and the sprightly society which surrounds his box; seated in a corner, on the great lexicographer's left, anecdotic Boswell is shown, pausing, open-mouthed, to catch the good things that may fall from his eminent leader; Mrs. Thrale, on Johnson's right, is saying something very pertinent to Oliver Goldsmith, who is endeavouring to carve the contents of his plate. His stolid features do not express anything approaching to rapturous appreciation of the accomplished blue-stocking's extraordinary flow of bewitching conversation.

Before we leave the attractive vicinity of Vauxhall Gardens, as its picturesque humours were noted by an able hand a century ago, we must offer a few traits of the delightful old haunt and the wicked ways of its frequenters. Our inexhaustible informant Angelo is considerate enough to enlighten our more repressive generation on the practices of the period.

The dashers of the day, instead of returning home in the morning from Vauxhall, used to repair to the Star and Garter, at Richmond; and, on some occasions, the madcap excursions were pushed farther. Angelo mentions a party of which he had formed a member, when, while crossing Westminster Bridge, the sight of a boat suggested a fresh act of extravagant frolic, no less than being rowed to the Tower, taking places, and straightway setting off in the famous hoy for the sea-trip to Margate, which in those times was quite a journey.

We have already introduced a certain witty and pugilistic divine; let us avail ourselves of Angelo's remembrances of an incident in his career, the scene of which belongs to the print we have been endeavouring to elucidate for our readers. Parson Bate—better known by this soubriquet than by his later title as Sir Bate Dudley—who was at the time editor of the Morning Post, obtained the nickname of the Fighting Parson, from a memorable affray in Vauxhall Gardens.

The particulars of the fracas are thus related in the Reminiscences:—'Mr. Parson Bate, as magnificent a piece of humanity, perhaps, as ever walked arm-in-arm with a fashionable beauty in the illuminated groves of Vauxhall, was promenading and chatting, with the celebrated Mrs. Hartley,[28] her Woodstock glove gently rubbing against his sable sleeve; when Mr. Fitzgerald (who was subsequently hanged in Ireland for certain malpractices), in company with Lord Littleton and Captain O'Bourne, most ungallantly gave offence to the lady and her protector by severally turning short round upon her and, with the most marked rudeness, staring in her face. This offensive behaviour was resented by Mr. Bate, and, if my memory does not deceive me, he chastised the offenders on the spot.'

Mr. Bate's paper, The Morning Post, obtained much celebrity by the exposure of the three gentlemen for their rude attack upon a lady. The rencontre begot a paper war, which was, for some weeks, maintained with great rancour on both sides; but the superior wit and powerful satire of Parson Bate were so manifest that his opponents were beaten out of the literary arena.

'Subsequent proceedings led to a meeting of the parties at a tavern, where, it seems, some explanation was entered into and an apology was offered. This, as appeared later on, was a discreditable stratagem on the part of the aggressors to revenge themselves on this redoubtable priest, by procuring for him, as they anticipated, a sound drubbing; they had, however, once more mistaken their man.

'These three confederates met according to appointment, and Mr. Bate brought his friends too. A strapping spark was then introduced to the party as Captain ——, who had been prompted to insult the pugnacious reverend, with the hope of provoking him to a personal attack, as at Vauxhall. This mock captain was a well-known prize-fighter. The parson, not at all daunted by the insolent threats of the ruffian, fell upon him, and with his own weapons, so completely thrashed him that he was taken away almost senseless in a hackney-coach.'

A farewell incident of Vauxhall, and we will leave for good the precincts memorable in the history of the past. This time we are carried to the rendezvous with Angelo and his friends in company with the most incorrigible blades of the town.

'Lord Barrymore's fondness for eccentricities ever engaged his mind. Whether in London or Wargrave 'twas all the same—always in high spirits, thinking of what fun he should have during the day. Seated, after dinner, at eleven o'clock, on one of the hottest evenings in July, he proposed that the whole party should go to Vauxhall.

'The carriage being ordered, it was directly filled inside; and the others outside, with more wine than wit, made no little noise through the streets.

'We had not been long at Vauxhall when Lord Barrymore called out to a young clergyman, some little distance from us, who, when he approached and was asked, "Have you had any supper?" to our surprise answered, "Vy, as how, my lord, I have not as yet had none." A waiter passing by at the time, Lord Barrymore said, "You know me; let that gentleman have whatever he calls for;" when he told the parson to fall to, and call for as much arrack punch as he pleased. "Thank ye, my lord," said he, "for I begins to be hungry, and I don't care how soon I pecks a bit."

'Lord Barrymore had that morning, unknown to us, contrived to dress Tom Hooper, the tin-man (one of the first pugilists of that time), as a clergyman, to be in waiting at Vauxhall, in case we should get into any dispute. This fistic knight now filled the place of a lackey, and was constantly behind the carriage, a sworn votary of black eyes and disfigured faces. His black clothes, formal hat, hair powdered and curled round, so far disguised him that he was unknown to us all at first, though Hooper's queer dialect must have soon discovered him to the waiters. This was a ruse de guerre of Lord Barrymore's. About three o'clock, whilst at supper, Lord Falkland, Henry Barry, Sir Francis Molineux, &c., were of our party; there was at this time a continual noise and rioting, and the arrack punch was beginning to operate.

'On a sudden all were seen running towards the orchestra, the whole garden seemed to be in confusion, and our party, all impatience, sallied out, those at the further end of the box walking over the table, kicking down the dishes. It seems that the effects of the punch had not only got into Hooper's head but had excited an influence over his fists, for he was for fighting with everybody. A large ring was made, and, advancing in a boxing attitude, he offered to fight anyone; but all retired before him. Felix McCarthy, a tall, handsome Irishman, well known by everybody at that time, soon forced his way through the crowd and collared him, at the same time saying, "You rascal, you are Hooper, the boxer; if you do not leave the garden this instant I'll kick you out." The affrighted crowd, who before retreated as he approached them, now came forward, when Hooper, finding himself surrounded, and hearing a general cry of "Kick him out!" made his retreat as fast as possible, thus avoiding the fury of those who would not have spared him out of the gardens, if he had been caught. We found him at five in the morning behind Lord Barrymore's carriage, with the coachman's great-coat on, congratulating himself upon having avoided the vengeance of those to whom, a short time previously, he had been an object of fear.'

July 24, 1785. The Slang Society.

August 11, 1785. Introduction.—There is hardly sufficient authority to warrant the editor in directly ascribing this print to Rowlandson; the work is evidently early, and very French in the characteristics of costumes, surroundings, and subject. There are points in the etched outline and in the general spirit and method of execution, which lead to the impression that Rowlandson is at least answerable for the etching and mezzotinting of the design. From the costumes worn by the figures the date of the subject may be assumed to be some time before the French Revolution. An overdressed old abbess, her head and shoulders enveloped in a cardinal, is introducing a French peer, who is toothless and decrepit, to a tall and fashionably-attired beauty, who is rising to receive the visitor with an air of dignified modesty.

September 5, 1785. AËrostation out at Elbows, or the Itinerant AËronaut.

1785. Going, a-going.—A handsome young huntsman has encountered, in the course of his sport, a pretty country maiden, neatly apparelled, and beaming with all the freshness of rustic simplicity and artlessness. Her budding charms are tempting the youth to court the maiden, to her own manifest embarrassment; meanwhile the gay Lothario's huntsman is shown in the distance 'going' off with the horses: the young squire's hunting, as far as the chase of the fox is concerned, being evidently finished for the day.

1785. Gone!

September 30, 1785. Too Many for a Jew. Published by S. Alken, Soho.

October 1, 1785. An Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful. Published by T. Cornell, Bruton Street.—A ragged enthusiast, who, as we gather from the shoe half-thrust into his coat-pocket, combines the cure of human souls with the cobbling of leather soles, is holding forth to a devout congregation.

The companion print to this caricature is called The Maiden Speech, and represents a Member, on the floor of the House, favouring the representatives of the people therein assembled with their first experience of his oratorical powers within the Parliamentary walls.

October 5, 1785. Captain Epilogue (Major Topham, Editor of 'The World') to the Wells (Mrs. Wells). (See March 7, 1786.)

Col. Topham endeavouring with his Squirt to Extinguish the Genius of Holman. (See December 1784.)

The macaroni Col. Topham, held in leading strings by Henderson and Mrs. Wells, is vainly trying, armed with a critical squirt, to suppress the rising celebrity of Holman, the actor, and writer for the stage. Holman, it will be remembered (see life of Rowlandson), was one of the caricaturist's schoolfellows.

October 5, 1785. Captain Epilogue. Republished March 7, 1786, by E. Jackson, 14 Marylebone Street, Golden Square.—The figure of Captain Topham, (afterwards Colonel) of the World newspaper, of which he was proprietor, editor, critic, and scandalmonger—the fashionable intelligencer, arbiter elegantiarum, and man of fashion and gallantry. We find the macaroni soldier and journalist a prominent personage in the satirical effusions of his time; we recognise him among Gillray's caricatures as the Thunderer (August 20, 1782), and later as the Windmill, standing forth advocating the interests of Mrs. Robinson, the Perdita who, deserted by the Prince of Wales, found, it was hinted, refuge in the championship of Captain Epilogue. In another cartoon Major Topham is bringing his lengthy accounts to Pitt's pay-table, 'for puffs and squibs,' the literary services which he had placed at the Ministerial disposal, and directed against the Whig candidate, Lord John Townshend, during the Westminster Election (August 14, 1788), which occurred when Lord Hood was appointed to the Treasury Board. We find the gallant quill attacking merit where it crossed his partialities, and the present caricature seems designed to expose the Captain's tendresse for the actress of his choice. Epilogue is dressed, as he is always represented, in the height of the latest French fashion, his coat, his stockings, his pumps, his frill and ruffles, and his wig and queue being the very latest importations from Paris; a finger-post is pointing to the Wells, and the somewhat suggestive and highly modish figure of the lady is drawn below it.

1785. A Cully Pillaged. (Same date as Comfort in Gout.)—A stalwart-looking bully has suddenly burst into an apartment; he has seized and is securely holding an alarmed individual, whose hat is thrown off and his wig is knocked awry; his pigtail is rigid with terror; he is standing on tiptoe, his limbs paralysed with fear, while a very picturesque-looking Cyprian, with hair and dress in somewhat dishevelled condition, is deliberately exploring the pockets of the victim.

1785. Copper-plate Printers at Work.—This sketch, which is vastly interesting, is probably drawn from the room in which the caricaturist's etchings were pulled, an apartment evidently near the sky. A couple of stalwart printers are hard at work rubbing ink into the copper-plates. A sturdy workman is turning the press, while a little oddity of a printer is drawing an impression from the copper lately under pressure. A connoisseur, in spectacles, of the old-fashioned type, is holding up a print at arm's length with a deeply critical expression on his sharp features. Numerous prints are hung up to dry on lines stretched across the chamber.

About 1785. A Bed-warmer.—Another print, which was published about this date, bears the name of H. Wigstead as delt. et fecit; but, by a strange anomaly, although a few strokes of the outline here and there belong to Wigstead's hand, which, from its untutored, straggling style, is easy of recognition, the figures and filling in are unmistakably by Rowlandson, who has paid his friend the compliment of ascribing the entire credit of the composition to his name. The subject represents a bedchamber; clothes, &c., are scattered about the room; a venerable libertine, whose bed has evidently been recently warmed, is endeavouring to retain by her skirt a remarkably handsome and sprightly-looking chambermaid, whose figure is gracefully expressed in Rowlandson's most felicitous manner, both as regards ease and action. The offended nymph is making off with the chamber candle and the warming-pan, the latter a formidable weapon for the defence of assaulted virtue.

1785. Temptation.—A companion plate was executed under the same auspices, but the name of H. Wigstead in this instance appears as designer only. It represents a scene of temptation. A decrepit and, as far as years go, venerable libertine is offering certain proposals to a pretty and finely-shaped maiden, who is weighing a purse with an air of indecision, while the vicious dotard is pressing her disengaged hand and leaning on her shoulder. The chamber is evidently the workroom of a cobbler; his bench and a pile of shoes in the foreground have been thrown over by the gambols of a dog and cat. In this case it is easy to see that if the maiden does not retire from the struggle with unstained hands, the elderly reprobate, whose crutch is under his arm, will not come off unscathed, for behind the curtains of the bed, in the shadow of the apartment, which seems to serve as workroom, kitchen, parlour, and bedroom in one, appears the half-concealed and brawny person of the cobbler himself, who is evidently enjoying the prospect of the vengeance which he is about to let fall on the head of the old sinner.

1785. Grog on Board. (See Jan. 1794.) Published by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.

1786. Tea on Shore. (See June 1794.) Published by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.

November 24, 1785. By Authority Persons and Property Protected. Published by S. W. Fores.—His Majesty's (G.R.) Royal Mail Coach is in a quandary; one horse is down, and a second is rearing; the hind wheel is off; a fair traveller is sent sprawling on the ground in an attitude which is neither easy nor becoming. An unfortunate passenger has lost his wig, and in seeking to recover it has become jammed in the coach-window. The coachman has lost his balance, and the shock is capsizing his seat; the concussion has discharged the huge blunderbuss borne by the guard through the letter-bags; the mails, and other contents are scattered to the winds by the explosion; and, to cap the misfortune, the lurch has accidentally loosened the trigger of a huge horse-pistol carried in the guard's belt for extra security, and the contents are peppering an unfortunate lady who has fallen on the highway.

November 28, 1785. Doctors Differ. Published by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.

November 30, 1785. The Sad Discovery, or the Graceless Apprentice. Published by J. R. Smith, 83 Oxford Street.

November 30, 1785. Intrusion on Study, or the Painter Disturbed. Published by S. W. Fores.—The studio of an artist, who is somewhat of a macaroni; the painter is hard at his work; on his easel is a classic subject; the principal figure is drawn from a pretty girl, his model, who is 'sitting' before him; a squire and a young foxhunter are dashing in, alike disregardful of the remonstrances of the artist and the confusion into which their unceremonious entry has thrown his blushing model, whose nude figure he is endeavouring to block out with his palette. (Republished July 1, 1802.)

November 31, 1785. Jockeyship. Published by J. R. Smith, 83 Oxford Street.—A view of that portion of the racing-ground where the jockeys are about to mount. Various interested groups are represented as surrounding the riders, and secret counsel, at the last moment, is given to jockeys by owners of horses—possibly parting instructions to ride either a winning or a losing race, as their private arrangements may require. That the proceedings of the Turf were not perfectly pure and above the comment of suspicion in the infancy of horse-racing is indicated by the caricaturist in the last action of 'jockeyship;' the riders, while shaking hands finally with their owners and backers, are shown taking care to keep their left hands open behind their backs for bribes from the other side; this signal is meeting a golden response. The crowded stand and the racecourse are sketched in the background.

December 1785. An Italian Family. Rowlandson, delt.; Alken, fecit. (See 1792.) Published December 1785 by S. Alken, Dufour's Place, Broad Street, Soho. Sold by W. Hinton, Sweetings Alley, Cornhill.

A French Family. Sold by W. Hinton, Sweetings Alley, Cornhill. (Republished 1792.)

December 15, 1785. Courtship in High Life. Courtship in Low Life.—A pair of prints designed and executed by Rowlandson in imitation of drawings, and belonging to the same period as the more finished and special works which the artist produced published by J. R. Smith. In the former subject High Life Courtship is represented in the figure of an elegant young noble—probably meant for the Prince of Wales—kneeling at the feet of a graceful and charming young lady of extreme fashion; the portrait exhibits certain indications of being intended for that of Mrs. Fitzherbert. There is a great deal of animation and good taste in the composition. The companion print of Low Life Courtship introduces a British sailor, (who has lost an eye and gained a wooden leg in the service of his country), pouring out a bumper of spirits and regarding with a longing eye a careless and semi-intoxicated-looking damsel, who, in spite of evident symptoms of dissipation, is represented as buxom, fresh-looking, and well-favoured.

December 15, 1785. City Courtship.

December 15, 1785. Rustic Courtship. Published by J. R. Smith, 83 Oxford Street. H. Wigstead, del.—Rowlandson has given his unmistakable characteristics to this plate, which is executed in outline etching, and filled in in aquatint, in admirable facsimile of the artist's drawings, washed in Indian ink, and tastefully coloured. A fair cottage beauty is spinning flax; her wheel is placed outside the cottage-door; she is being stared at in vacuous admiration by a rustic Colin Clout, who is grinning from ear to ear and scratching his forehead in perplexity. Hop-poles are seen in the distance, and the landscape is one of those pretty country scenes such as may often be seen in England.

December 1785. Filial Affection, or a Trip to Gretna Green. (Companion to The Return from Gretna Green, or Reconciliation.)—This plate, which is executed in mezzotint, is usually worked up in imitation of a water-colour drawing—its resemblance to the original sketch, if judiciously tinted after Rowlandson's drawing, is sufficiently close to prove deceptive. A post-carriage is tearing along down hill, on the road to Gretna Green, drawn by four prancing horses, ridden by a pair of jockeys, and pursued by a posse of mounted horsemen. The foremost rider, a squire, booted and spurred, is coming close to the elopers and flourishing his whip revengefully at the occupants of the chaise; his horse is turned aside by the threatening attitude of the fugitives. The lady, her feathers flying in the wind, is leaning out of one window, pointing a formidable pistol at her parent's head; while the dandified young swain who is the abductor in this case is pointing a second pistol through the other window. The rest of the chase are lost in the clouds of dust which the wheels of the post-chaise are throwing in the rear. One venerable gentleman's hat and wig are being left far behind, like those of our old friend John Gilpin.

December 17, 1785. The Reconciliation, or the Return from Scotland. Published by W. Hinton, 5 Sweetings Alley, Royal Exchange.—The pair of fugitives we saw in the previous subject are now, like a brace of repentant turtledoves, returning to the family nest which they had rashly forsaken. The gallant husband is all submission and civility, pointing to the tears of his bride as their intercessors to the hearts of the parents. The father is indicating that a place at his fireside is still the right of his child; the old footman is joyfully placing a chair for his young mistress; and the servants, introduced in the doorway of the apartment, are in ecstasies to see the runaway couple return and the domestic breach happily repaired.

December 21, 1785. Botheration (Bar). Published by W. Hunter. (Engraved by Alken.) Dedicated to the Gentlemen of the Bar.

December 21, 1785. The Loss of Eden and Eden Lost. N.B. 'Every man has his price.'—Sir Robert Walpole's politics. Published by W. Hinton, 5 Sweetings Alley, Royal Exchange.—This caricature gives the portraits of two would-be benefactors of their country, who, the satirist is inclined to hint, were not acting from purely disinterested motives. General Arnold, dressed in his uniform, and with his sword drawn, while offering up an invocation to Liberty, is one of the figures; Eden (Lord Auckland) is the other; the patriotic statesman has also apostrophised Liberty, and successfully in this instance, with his pen; his pocket is well supplied with those good things which have fallen to his share—'6,000l. per annum,' 'Commissioner to America,' 'Commercial Negociator to France.'

1785. Sympathy, or a Family on a Journey laying the Dust. Designed and etched by T. Rowlandson. Published by W. Humphrey.—The halt of a coach on the road. The occupants have descended, and the coachman and footman, horses, &c., are occupied as described by the title.

1785. John Gilpin's Return to London. Aquatinta by F. Jukes.

1785. Harmony—Discord. A pair of contrasts.—Harmony is a remarkably graceful example of the artist's skill in indicating pleasing forms and easy, flowing outlines. The warrior, we presume, is relaxing the stern front of Mars by the practice of the softer arts, and is seated at the side of a fair companion, who is holding her hero's music-book on her lap.

1785. Effects of Harmony. (Companion to the above.)

1785. Tastes Differ.—An antiquated individual, evidently a connoisseur of old prints, dressed in his morning cap and dressing-gown, is buried in the study of a large folio spread before him; all his admiration is absorbed in his hobbies, to the neglect of a young and pretty woman by his side, who is consoling herself, in dreams, for the neglect with which as the plate seems to hint, the superannuated spouse is treating the charms of her company and person.

1785. Nap in the Country. Nap in Town. Published by S. Alken, Dufour's Place, Soho.—A Nap in the Country represents the mid-day rest of a rustic pair, who, while their sheep are calmly grazing and their dog is keeping faithful watch, are, beneath the shadows of spreading trees, indulging in 'forty winks' in the open country, after their early morning toils.

A Nap in Town, which may also be taken as an afternoon siesta, though equally luxurious, is not enjoyed under such healthy conditions as the preceding; the town pair are taking their repose with as much lazy ease as the circumstances will permit.

1785. Sea Amusement, or Commanders-in-Chief of Cup and Ball on a Cruise.—It appears from this print, which in the coloured editions is judiciously tinted to make it resemble a drawing, that the inactivity of our commanders at sea was attracting popular censure. In the plate we find the admiral and his commodore, instead of sweeping the foes of Britain from the ocean, as was the desire of the entire nation, seated in the state-cabin, with a pile of gold-pieces on the ground, devoting their energies to gambling with a child's toy. Scattered around and trodden upon unheeded are plans of fortifications to be bombarded, the charts of oceans to be navigated, and rough draughts for the arrangement of the ships at the beginning of a sea-fight, such as we find Nelson drew up for the guidance of his captains before going into action on the eve of his glorious victories. An old salt, who is pouring out tea for these degenerate warriors, is regarding their puerile dispositions with an air of disgust and distress.

December 26, 1785. French Travelling, or the First Stage from Calais.

December 26, 1785. English Travelling, or the First Stage from Dover.

1785. (?) Opera Boxes.