interesting as any in this popular
series:

Hogarth, the great painter-teacher of his age and country, was born in
the parish of St. Bartholomew the Great, in London, on the 10th of
November, 1697, and his trusty and sympathizing biographer, Allan
Cunningham, says, "we have the authority of his own manuscripts for
believing he was baptized on the 28th of the same month;" but the parish
registers have been examined for confirmation with "fruitless
solicitude." Cunningham gives December as the month of his birth; this
is a mistake; so also is his notice of the painter's introduction of the
Virago into his picture of the "Modern Midnight Conversation." No female
figure appears in this subject. It is in the third plate of the "Rake's
Progress" the woman alluded to is introduced. A small critic might here
find a fit subject for vituperation, and loudly condemn Cunningham as a
writer who was too idle to examine the works he was describing; pouncing
on his minute errors, and forgetting the totality of his generous
labors. Much of this spirit infests literature; and merges the kindly
exposition of error into the bitterness of personal attack. The
fallibility of human nature should teach us charity, and our own faults
lead us to "more gently scan our brother man,"--a thing too often
unthought of by those who are nothing if not critical, and as frequently
nothing when they are. The painter was descended from a Westmoreland
family. Sprung from an industrious race of self-helping yeomen, whose
hardy toil brought them health and contentment, Hogarth had an early
advantage, derived from his father's love of letters, which eventually
drew him away from field and wood to the great London mart. Like
thousands of others, he was unsuccessful. Fortunately, in this instance,
his want of success in literature stimulated the strong mind of his son
to seek occupation of more certain profit; and those who feel interest
in the whereabouts of celebrated men, may think upon the days when
William Hogarth wrought in silver, as the apprentice of Ellis Gamble, in
Cranbourne Street, and speculate upon the change of circumstances,
wrought by his own exertions, when, as a great painter, in after time,
he occupied the house, now known as the Sabloniere Hotel, in Leicester
Square.

Hogarth's character of mind, evidenced in his works and proved by his
biography, is so perfectly honest, open, home-bred English, that we
claim him with pride--as belonging e