of them, and they were drawn with seven
oranges, a thing quite out of taste, no variety in life, no composition
in the world. We desired to have something in a brighter style, and,
after many debates, at length came to an unanimous resolution of being
drawn together, in one large historical family piece. This would be
cheaper, since one frame would serve for all, and it would be infinitely
more genteel; for all families of any taste were now drawn in the same
manner. As we did not immediately recollect an historical subject to hit
us, we were contented each with being drawn as independent historical
figures. My wife desired to be represented as Venus, and the painter was
desired not to be too frugal of his diamonds in her stomacher and hair.
Her two little ones were to be as Cupids by her side, while I, in
my gown and band, was to present her with my books on the Whistonian
controversy. Olivia would be drawn as an Amazon, sitting upon a bank of
flowers, drest in a green joseph, richly laced with gold, and a whip
in her hand. Sophia was to be a shepherdess, with as many sheep as the
painter could put in for nothing; and Moses was to be drest out with an
hat and white feather. Our taste so much pleased the 'Squire, that
he insisted on being put in as one of the family in the character of
Alexander the great, at Olivia's feet. This was considered by us all as
an indication of his desire to be introduced into the family, nor could
we refuse his request. The painter was therefore set to work, and as he
wrought with assiduity and expedition, in less than four days the whole
was compleated. The piece was large, and it must be owned he did not
spare his colours; for which my wife gave him great encomiums. We
were all perfectly satisfied with his performance; but an unfortunate
circumstance had not occurred till the picture was finished, which now
struck us with dismay. It was so very large that we had no place in the
house to fix it. How we all came to disregard so material a point is
inconceivable; but certain it is, we had been all greatly remiss. The
picture, therefore, instead of gratifying our vanity, as we hoped,
leaned, in a most mortifying manner, against the kitchen wall, where the
canvas was stretched and painted, much too large to be got through any
of the doors, and the jest of all our neighhours. One compared it to
Robinson Crusoe's long-boat, too large to be removed; another thought
it more resembled a reel in a bot