In 1724, Hogarth produced another allegory called the _Inhabitants of the Moon_, in which there are some covert and not very complimentary allusions to the “dummy” character of royalty, and a whimsical fancy of inanimate objects, songs, hammers, pieces of money, and the like, being built up into imitation of human beings, all very ingeniously worked out. By this time, Hogarth, too, had begun to work, not only for the ephemeral pictorial squib-vendors of Westminster Hall—those squibs came in with him, culminated in Gillray, and went out with H. B.; or were rather absorbed and amalgamated into the admirable _Punch_ cartoons of Mr. Leech—but also for the regular booksellers. For Aubry de la Mottraye’s _Travels_ (a dull, pretentious book) he executed some engravings, among which I note _A woman of Smyrna in the habit of the country_—the woman’s face very graceful, and the _Dance_, the Pyrrhic dance of the Greek islands, and the oddest fandango that ever was seen. One commentator says that the term “as merry as a grig” came from the fondness of the inhabitants of those isles of eternal summer for dancing, and that it should be properly “as merry as a Greek.” _Quien sabe?_ I know that lately in the Sessions papers I stumbled over the examination of one Levi Solomon, _alias_ Cockleput, who stated that he lived in Sweet Apple Court, and that he “went a-grigging for his living.” I have no _Lexicon Balatronicum_ at hand; but from early researches into the vocabulary of the “High Mung” I have an indistinct impression that “griggers” were agile vagabonds who danced, and went through elementary feats of posture-mastery in taverns. In ’24, Hogarth illustrated a translation of the _Golden Ass of Apuleius_. The plates are coarse and clumsy; show no humour; were mere pot-boilers, _gagne-pains_, thrusts with the burin at the wolf looking in at the Hogarthian door, I imagine. Then came five frontispieces for a translation of _Cassandra_. These I have not seen. Then fifteen head-pieces for Beaver’s _Military Punishments of the Ancients_, narrow little slips full of figures in chiaroscuro, many drawn from Callot’s curious martyrology, _Les Saincts et Sainctes de l’Année_, about three hundred graphic illustrations of human torture! There was also a frontispiece to the _Happy Ascetic_, and one to the Oxford squib of _Terræ Filius_, in 1724, but of the joyous recluse in question I have no cognizance.