Invoking childhood
From The Unspeakable Vault (of Doom), a warning about using spellcheckers when summoning Elder Gods:
Eldritch cupertinos indeed.
[Hat tip to Alex Baumans]
Dr. Syntax's discovery
On the wall behind the table where I usually sit to blog, there's a framed print, shown in faded miniature on the right. The title below the picture is "Dr. Syntax Making a Discovery".
But there's not a subjunctive or a preterite in sight. The couple in the foreground, though perhaps engaged in discovery, don't look very intellectual. The old geezer in the background seems to be examining a tree -- but it's a willow, not a representation of constituent structure or grammatical relations. What gives?
We can get the basic historical context from Mark Bryant, "Dr. Who? The First Cartoon Character", History Today, July 2007:
MANY PEOPLE, faced with the question 'Who was the first popular fictional cartoon character?' might assume this to be Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse, created in 1927. However, before Mickey came Bonzo the Dog and Felix the Cat, and earner still were Ally Sloper and Max and Moritz (both from the 1860s), Brown, Jones and Robinson of Punch (1850s) and Honoré Daumier's Ratapoil (1830s). However, it is now generally acknowledged that the first ever popular fictional cartoon character was created in 1809 -- more than a century before Mickey Mouse. A scrawny and eccentric elderly clergyman/schoolmaster, he was hugely successful, spawning many imitators and even creating the first ever market for tie-in merchandise. His name was Dr Syntax and he was the creation of a distinguished British artist who celebrates the 250th anniversary of his birth this year and who is perhaps better known for his topographical watercolours, portraits and political cartoons: Thomas Rowlandson (1757-1827).
From the rest of Bryant's piece, and from the Wikipedia articles on Thomas Rowlandson and William Combe, we can learn quite a bit more. Dr. Syntax was a satire on the Reverend William Gilpin, author of a popular series of illustrated tour journals such as Observations on the River Wye and several parts of South Wales, etc. relative chiefly to Picturesque Beauty; made in the summer of the year 1770. Gilpin invented the concept of the picturesque ("the picturesque (defined as "that kind of beauty which is agreeable in a picture"), and a particular theory of the principles of picturesqueness. According to Wikipedia,
For Gilpin, both texture and composition were important in a "correctly picturesque" scene. The texture should be "rough", "intricate", "varied", or "broken", without obvious straight lines. The composition should work as a unified whole, incorporating several elements: a dark "foreground" with a "front screen" or "side screens", a brighter middle "distance", and at least one further, less distinctly depicted, "distance". A ruined abbey or castle would add "consequence". A low viewpoint, which tended to emphasise the "sublime", was always preferable to a prospect from on high. While Gilpin allowed that nature was good at producing textures and colours, it was rarely capable of creating the perfect composition. Some extra help from the artist, perhaps in the form of a carefully placed tree, was usually required.
Gilpin also famously suggested that things often ought to be removed, such as some of the gable-ends at Tintern Abbey:
A mallet judiciously used (but who durst use it?) might be of service in fracturing some of them; particularly those of the cross isles, which are not only disagreeable in themselves, but confound the perspective.
Jane Austen satirized Gilpin's fashionable principles of the picturesque in Northanger Abbey (written about 1800). The passage where Catherine worries about her ignorance of picturesqueness theory is worth quoting at length:
The Tilneys were soon engaged in another [topic] on which she had nothing to say. They were viewing the country with the eyes of persons accustomed to drawing, and decided on its capability of being formed into pictures, with all the eagerness of real taste. Here Catherine was quite lost. She knew nothing of drawing -- nothing of taste: and she listened to them with an attention which brought her little profit, for they talked in phrases which conveyed scarcely any idea to her. The little which she could understand, however, appeared to contradict the very few notions she had entertained on the matter before. It seemed as if a good view were no longer to be taken from the top of an high hill, and that a clear blue sky was no longer a proof of a fine day. She was heartily ashamed of her ignorance. A misplaced shame. Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.
The advantages of natural folly in a beautiful girl have been already set forth by the capital pen of a sister author; and to her treatment of the subject I will only add, in justice to men, that though to the larger and more trifling part of the sex, imbecility in females is a great enhancement of their personal charms, there is a portion of them too reasonable and too well informed themselves to desire anything more in woman than ignorance. But Catherine did not know her own advantages -- did not know that a good-looking girl, with an affectionate heart and a very ignorant mind, cannot fail of attracting a clever young man, unless circumstances are particularly untoward. In the present instance, she confessed and lamented her want of knowledge, declared that she would give anything in the world to be able to draw; and a lecture on the picturesque immediately followed, in which his instructions were so clear that she soon began to see beauty in everything admired by him, and her attention was so earnest that he became perfectly satisfied of her having a great deal of natural taste. He talked of foregrounds, distances, and second distances -- side-screens and perspectives -- lights and shades; and Catherine was so hopeful a scholar that when they gained the top of Beechen Cliff, she voluntarily rejected the whole city of Bath as unworthy to make part of a landscape. Delighted with her progress, and fearful of wearying her with too much wisdom at once, Henry suffered the subject to decline, and by an easy transition from a piece of rocky fragment and the withered oak which he had placed near its summit, to oaks in general, to forests, the enclosure of them, waste lands, crown lands and government, he shortly found himself arrived at politics; and from politics, it was an easy step to silence.
A few years later, it was natural enough for Rowlandson and Combe to satirize Gilpin in their turn, in a series of three immensely popular works, published between 1809 and 1821: the Tour of Dr Syntax in Search of the Picturesque, Dr Syntax in Search of Consolation, and the Third Tour of Dr Syntax in Search of a Wife.
But why Dr. Syntax? This question isn't even raised, much less answered, by Bryant, nor Wikipedia, nor any of the other secondary sources that I've found.
So I turned to the original texts -- the rhymed couplets in iambic tetrameter, written by William Combe to tell the story that Rowlandson's aquatints illustrate. And there I found the answer. In 1809, everyone hated "syntax", which for them meant the grammatical construal of Latin (and perhaps a little Greek) that was forced on them in "grammar school".
Well, almost everyone -- there were enough people who liked it well enough, or at least tolerated it well enough, to study the subject to the point of being rated competent to teach it. And the supply of such low-level church-affiliated schoolmasters was large enough to keep them poor.
Here's how Combe explains the problem, in the opening lines of the Tour of Dr Syntax in Search of the Picturesque:
1 The school was done, the bus'ness o'er,
2 When tir'd of Greek and Latin lore,
3 Good Syntax sought his easy chair, And sat in calm composure there.
4 His wife was to a neighbour gone, To hear the chit-chat of the town;
5 And left him the unfrequent power Of brooding through a quiet hour.
6 Thus, while he sat, a busy train Of images besieged his brain.
7 Of Church-preferment he had none;
8 Nay, all his hope of that was gone:
9 He felt that he content must be With drudging in a Curacy.
10 Indeed, on ev'ry Sabbath-day,
11 Through eight long miles he took his way,
12 To preach, to grumble, and to pray;
13 To cheer the good, to warn the sinner,
14 And, if he got it,---eat a dinner;
15 To bury these, to christen those, And marry such fond folks as chose
16 To change the tenor of their life, And risk the matrimonial strife.
17 Thus were his weekly journeys made,
18 'Neath summer suns and wintry shades;
19 And all his gains, it did appear,--- Were only thirty pounds a year,
20 Besides, th'augmenting taxes press To aid expense and add distress:
21 Mutton and beef and bread and beer,
22 And ev'rything was grown so dear;
23 The boys too, always prone to eat, Delighted less in books than meat;
24 So that when holy Christmas came,
25 His earnings ceas'd to be the same,
26 And now, alas, could do no more,
27 Than keep the wolf without the door.
28 E'en birch, the pedant master's boast,
29 Was so increas'd in worth and cost,
30 That oft, prudentially beguil'd, To save the rod, he spar'd the child.
31 Thus, if the times refus'd to mend, He to his school must put an end.
32 How hard his lot! how blind his fate!
33 What shall he do to mend his state?
34 Thus did poor Syntax ruminate.
And 45 lines later, here's how the good doctor explains his plan to the provost of his old college at Oxford:
Provost.--
79 I hope then my old worthy friend, Your visit here your fate will mend.
80 My services you may command; I offer them with heart and hand;
81 And while you think it right to stay,
82 You'll make this house your home I pray."
Syntax.---
83 "I'm going further, on a scheme,
84 Which you may think an idle dream;
85 At the fam'd Lakes to take a look, And of my Journey make a Book ."
Provost.---
86 "I know full well that you have store
87 Of modern as of classic lore:
88 And, surely, with your weight of learning,
89 And all your critical discerning,
90 You might produce a work of name,
91 To fill your purse and give you fame,
92 How oft have we together sought Whate'er the ancient sages taught!"
Syntax.---
93 "I now perceive that all your knowledge
94 Is pent, my friend, within your college!
95 Learning's become a very bore--- That fashion long since has been o'er.
96 A Bookseller may keep his carriage,
97 And ask ten thousand pounds in marriage;
98 May have his mansion in a square, And build a house for countryair;
99 And yet 'tis odds the fellow knows If Horace wrote in verse or prose.
100 Could Dr. Grey in chariot ride, And take each day his wine beside,
101 If he did not contrive to cook, Each year, his Tour into a book;
102 A flippant, flashy, flow'ry style, A lazy morning to beguile;
103 With every other leaf, a print Of some fine view in aqua tint' ?
104 Such is the book I mean to make And I've no doubt the work will take:
105 For though your wisdom may decry it,
106 The simple folk will surely buy it.
107 I will allow it is but trash, But then it furnishes the cash."
Provost.---
108 "Why things are not the same, I fear,
109 As when we both were scholars here;
110 But still I doubt not your success, And wish you ev'ry happiness;
111 Myself, and my whole College tribe, Depend upon it will subscribe."
asdf
William Combe
Also known as: Valerius
Dates of Birth/Death: 1742-1823
Gender: Male
Literary Periods: Age of Sensibility, 1745-1785; Eighteenth Century, 1700-1799; Neoclassical Period, 1660-1785; Nineteenth Century, 1800-1899; Romantic Period, 1780-1837
Nationality: British/English/European
A Tour in Search of the Picturesque
EBay guide to British Satire Prints
Thomas Rowlandson (1756-1827) was the son of a London tradesman. He was raised by his uncle who was a wealthy silk merchant. It is said that he learned to draw before that he could speak. He was an Etonian who entered the Royal Academy upon graduation. He was seen as a promising student when he continued his studies of drawing in Paris for two years. He set up his own portrait studio in London where he met James Gillray. His rich aunt died and left him 7,000 Pounds that he sunk into the gambling halls where he was known to stay for thirty six hours at a time. He became broke and looked to the satire of his friend Gillray in order to make ends meet. Rowlandson had a love of travel and worked for a number of different publishers throughout his life. He illustrated prints for Comforts of Bath which was published in 1798 by Samuel Fores. This was the same year that he went to work for the German publisher Rudolph Ackermann at the Repository of the Arts. His satire largely avoided political life and focused on social themes. In 1806 Rowlandson illustrated the Miseries of the Country series of prints. He would be best known for illustrating The Schoolmaster's Tour for Poetical Magazine starting in 1809. The popular parody of Rev. William Gilpin continued in 1812 as Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of the Picturesque. His most popular series was followed by Dr Syntax in Search of Consolation in 1820 and Third Tour of Dr Syntax in Search of a Wife finally in 1821. This series made Rowlandson a rich man.
Thomas Rowlandson. "Dr. Syntax Makes a Discovery" published in The Second Tour of Dr. Syntax, In Search of Consolation by William Coombe. 1840. Author's collection.
In one much-quoted passage, Gilpin takes things to an extreme, suggesting that "a mallet judiciously used" might render the insufficiently ruinous gable of Tintern Abbey more picturesque. In the same work he criticises the poet John Dyer for describing a distant object in too much detail. Such passages were easy pickings for satirists such as Jane Austen demonstrated in Northanger Abbey as well as many of her other novels and works. (Elizabeth Bennet, in Pride and Prejudice, notably refuses to join Mr. Darcy and the Bingley sisters in a stroll with the teasing observation, "You are charmingly group'd, and...The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth.")
There were times when he could be amusingly literal about the artist's right to alter Nature to the requirements of the picturesque—as when, in his guide book on the Wye valley, he incites the enthusiastic tourist to correct the unsightly gable ends in the ruins of Tintern Abbey:
A mallet judiciously used (but who durst use it?) might be of service in fracturing some of them; particularly those of the cross isles, which are not only disagreeable in themselves, but confound the perspective. (1)
The Wye Tour; or, Gilpin on the Wye
link William Gilpin, from Three Essays on Picturesque Beauty, 2nd edition (1794). Essay II. On Picturesque Travel.
Northanger Abbey:
"That little boys and girls should be tormented," said Henry, "is what no one at all acquainted with human nature in a civilized state can deny; but in behalf of our most distinguished historians, I must observe that they might well be offended at being supposed to have no higher aim, and that by their method and style, they are perfectly well qualified to torment readers of the most advanced reason and mature time of life. I use the verb 'to torment,' as I observed to be your own method, instead of 'to instruct,' supposing them to be now admitted as synonymous."
"You think me foolish to call instruction a torment, but if you had been as much used as myself to hear poor little children first learning their letters and then learning to spell, if you had ever seen how stupid they can be for a whole morning together, and how tired my poor mother is at the end of it, as I am in the habit of seeing almost every day of my life at home, you would allow that 'to torment' and 'to instruct' might sometimes be used as synonymous words."
"Very probably. But historians are not accountable for the difficulty of learning to read; and even you yourself, who do not altogether seem particularly friendly to very severe, very intense application, may perhaps be brought to acknowledge that it is very well worth-while to be tormented for two or three years of one's life, for the sake of being able to read all the rest of it. Consider -- if reading had not been taught, Mrs. Radcliffe would have written in vain -- or perhaps might not have written at all."
Catherine assented -- and a very warm panegyric from her on that lady's merits closed the subject. The Tilneys were soon engaged in another on which she had nothing to say. They were viewing the country with the eyes of persons accustomed to drawing, and decided on its capability of being formed into pictures, with all the eagerness of real taste. Here Catherine was quite lost. She knew nothing of drawing -- nothing of taste: and she listened to them with an attention which brought her little profit, for they talked in phrases which conveyed scarcely any idea to her. The little which she could understand, however, appeared to contradict the very few notions she had entertained on the matter before. It seemed as if a good view were no longer to be taken from the top of an high hill, and that a clear blue sky was no longer a proof of a fine day. She was heartily ashamed of her ignorance. A misplaced shame. Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.
The advantages of natural folly in a beautiful girl have been already set forth by the capital pen of a sister author; and to her treatment of the subject I will only add, in justice to men, that though to the larger and more trifling part of the sex, imbecility in females is a great enhancement of their personal charms, there is a portion of them too reasonable and too well informed themselves to desire anything more in woman than ignorance. But Catherine did not know her own advantages -- did not know that a good-looking girl, with an affectionate heart and a very ignorant mind, cannot fail of attracting a clever young man, unless circumstances are particularly untoward. In the present instance, she confessed and lamented her want of knowledge, declared that she would give anything in the world to be able to draw; and a lecture on the picturesque immediately followed, in which his instructions were so clear that she soon began to see beauty in everything admired by him, and her attention was so earnest that he became perfectly satisfied of her having a great deal of natural taste. He talked of foregrounds, distances, and second distances -- side-screens and perspectives -- lights and shades; and Catherine was so hopeful a scholar that when they gained the top of Beechen Cliff, she voluntarily rejected the whole city of Bath as unworthy to make part of a landscape. Delighted with her progress, and fearful of wearying her with too much wisdom at once, Henry suffered the subject to decline, and by an easy transition from a piece of rocky fragment and the withered oak which he had placed near its summit, to oaks in general, to forests, the enclosure of them, waste lands, crown lands and government, he shortly found himself arrived at politics; and from politics, it was an easy step to silence. The general pause which succeeded his short disquisition on the state of the nation was put an end to by Catherine, who, in rather a solemn tone of voice, uttered these words, "I have heard that something very shocking indeed will soon come out in London."
[...]
Catherine did not exactly know how this was to be understood. Why was Miss Tilney embarrassed? Could there be any unwillingness on the general's side to show her over the abbey? The proposal was his own. And was not it odd that he should always take his walk so early? Neither her father nor Mr. Allen did so. It was certainly very provoking. She was all impatience to see the house, and had scarcely any curiosity about the grounds. If Henry had been with them indeed! But now she should not know what was picturesque when she saw it. Such were her thoughts, but she kept them to herself, and put on her bonnet in patient discontent.
She was struck, however, beyond her expectation, by the grandeur of the abbey, as she saw it for the first time from the lawn. The whole building enclosed a large court; and two sides of the quadrangle, rich in Gothic ornaments, stood forward for admiration. The remainder was shut off by knolls of old trees, or luxuriant plantations, and the steep woody hills rising behind, to give it shelter, were beautiful even in the leafless month of March. Catherine had seen nothing to compare with it; and her feelings of delight were so strong, that without waiting for any better authority, she boldly burst forth in wonder and praise. The general listened with assenting gratitude; and it seemed as if his own estimation of Northanger had waited unfixed till that hour.
________________________________
Section: BEHIND THE LINES
MANY PEOPLE, faced with the question 'Who was the first popular fictional cartoon character?' might assume this to be Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse, created in 1927. However, before Mickey came Bonzo the Dog and Felix the Cat, and earner still were Ally Sloper and Max and Moritz (both from the 1860s), Brown, Jones and Robinson of Punch (1850s) and Honoré Daumier's Ratapoil (1830s). However, it is now generally acknowledged that the first ever popular fictional cartoon character was created in 1809 -- more than a century before Mickey Mouse. A scrawny and eccentric elderly clergyman/schoolmaster, he was hugely successful, spawning many imitators and even creating the first ever market for tie-in merchandise. His name was Dr Syntax and he was the creation of a distinguished British artist who celebrates the 250th anniversary of his birth this year and who is perhaps better known for his topographical watercolours, portraits and political cartoons: Thomas Rowlandson (1757-1827).
Rowlandson was born on July 13th, 1757, in Old Jewry, near the Bank of England in the City of London, the oldest child of a wool and silk merchant who was declared bankrupt when Thomas was aged two. He and his younger sister Elizabeth were brought up by their childless uncle James, a prosperous silk weaver, and his French Huguenot wife Jane. After his uncle's death Thomas's aunt sold the business and moved to Soho. Here Thomas attended the famous Soho Academy school in Soho Square, where fellow pupils included Edmund Burke's son Richard, Henry Angelo (son of the royal family's fencing master) and the future actor-manager John Bannister.
At the age of fifteen Rowlandson was admitted to the Royal Academy Schools (then in Somerset House) and was awarded the RA's silver medal in 1777. A close friend of James Gillray, he was influenced at first by the work of the painter, etcher and caricaturist John Hamilton Mortimer (174079) and began producing political and social prints in 1780. He had his first big success at the age of twenty-eight with 'Vauxhall Gardens' (exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1784) and his caricatures of the protagonists in the Westminster election held in the same year.
In the late 1790s Rowlandson began working with the German-born printseller, publisher and art-dealer Rudolph Ackermann, who was based at 101 Strand -- one of the first buildings in London to be lit by gas. He quickly became the publisher's star artist and thus when Ackermann decided to launch a new monthly journal, the Poetical Magazine, in 1809 he turned to Rowlandson for ideas for a serialized story in verse with colour illustrations.
Rowlandson had already been toying with the idea of lampooning the latest craze for books of 'picturesque' travels. The best known of these were by the schoolmaster and clergyman Rev. William Gilpin (1724-1804), whose accounts of his sketching trips in Britain published from 1782 onwards were very popular and in 1808 had just been reissued. Influenced by Gilpin and his followers, a new class of 'aesthetic' traveller had emerged who sought out pastoral and gothic landscapes, ruined castles and dramatic scenery in the more rugged parts of Britain. For Rowlandson they were a perfect target for satire.
Dr Syntax, like Gilpin a clergyman/schoolmaster, had originally been conceived as a fat man, based on one of Rowlandson's wealthy patrons, a 24-stone 'walking turtle'. However, John Bannister advised against this, suggesting instead 'a skin and bone hero, a pedantic old prig in a shovel hat with a pony'. Ackermann was delighted with the initial drawings and engaged the poet and journalist William Combe to produce verses to accompany them. The result was 'The Schoolmaster's Tour', written in rhyming couplets, which began in the launch issue of the Poetical Magazine on May 1st, 1809, and continued monthly until May 1st, 1811.
Rowlandson conceived and produced the illustrations and Combe 'wrote up' to them. As Combe later said:
When the first print was sent to me, I did not know what would be the subject of the second; and in this manner, in a great measure, the Artist continued designing, and I continued writing, every month for two years, till a Work containing near ten thousand Lines was produced: the Artist and the Writer having no personal communication with, or knowledge of, each other.
The story follows Dr Syntax as he sets off for the Lake District, gets lost and is robbed by highwaymen who tie him to a tree and crop the ears and tail of his horse, Grizzle. He is then rescued, pursued by a bull, falls into a river while trying to sketch a ruined castle, goes to Liverpool and then London (where the book of his travels is finished and published) and eventually ends up with a new job as Vicar in a Lake District town and as private tutor to the son of the local squire.
The series was an immediate success and was so popular that in 1812 it was republished as a book, The Tour of Dr Syntax, in Search of the Picturesque, priced at one guinea and royal octavo (10 x 6 1/4 inches) in format. The thirty-one drawings by Rowlandson included a new title page and frontispiece and an additional picture, 'The Doctors' Dream of the Battle of the Books', to accompany an extra episode written especially for this version by Combe. The book was also a great success. It had reached its fifth edition by 1813 and Danish, French and German editions were published in 1820, 1821 and 1822 respectively.
Numerous imitations also began to appear, such as The Adventures of Dr Comicus (1815), The Tour of Doctor Syntax Through London (1820), Doctor Syntax in Paris (1820) and The Tour of Doctor Prosody (1820). So Ackermann commissioned two further series from Rowlandson and Combe.
The Second Tour of Dr Syntax, In Search of Consolation (published in eight instalments in the Poetical Magazine from January to August 1820 and as a book the same year) begins with the death of Syntax's wife and follows his travels, with his Irish companion Pat, through Cheshire, Ludlow, Bath, Oxford and London. As well as having rats eat his wig, and being attacked by bees, Syntax has the sketches in his book compared to 'the gay skill of ROWLANDSON'.
The Third Tour of Dr Syntax, In Search of a Wife was published in the Poetical Magazine from November 1820 to May 1821 and as a book the same year. In it Syntax buys a blind horse, upsets the flowerpots in a famous Tulip Conservancy, accidentally takes lodgings in a brothel, discovers a foundling, gets married and dies two years later. Combe's final lines read:
My verse has now no more to tell. The story's done. SYNTAX, FAREWELL!
However, this was far from being the end of the good doctor. Soon after The Third Tour was published Dr Syntax starred in a pantomime and a musical, and even had a racehorse named after him (whose portrait was painted by James Ward RA, grandfather of the future Vanity Fair caricaturist Leslie Ward -- 'Spy'). Syntax merchandising also flourished, from textiles, wigs, coats and hats, to walking-sticks and snuff-boxes. In addition porcelain figurines were produced, as well as Staffordshire dinnerware and a set of three Dr Syntax jugs by Chamberlain of Worcester.
Realizing the potential for still more sales, Ackermann commissioned Combe and Rowlandson to continue the storyline after Syntax's death with the adventures of the foundling brought up by his second wife. Thus came The History of Johnny Quae Genus, the Little Foundling of the Late Doctor Syntax. This was published in eight parts (182122) and as a book, the last to be written by William Combe, who died in 1823. It featured twenty-four engravings by Rowlandson who himself died at his home on April 21st, 1827.
PHOTO (BLACK & WHITE): Left: A self-portrait of Thomas Rowlandson c.1787
PHOTO (COLOR): The frontispiece drawn specially for the first edition of The Tour of Doctor Syntax, in Search of' the Picturesque (1812). It shows the Rev. Dr Syrinx in his study and touching his forehead as the idea of his tour occurs to him.
PHOTO (COLOR): Left: 'The Doctor's Dream of the Battle of the Books.' This episode -- in which Syntax falls asleep in a library and dreams about a battle of flying books - did not appear in the original 1809 Poetical Magazine version of the story but was added by Combe and illustrated by Rowlandson for the 1812 book.
PHOTO (COLOR): Below: 'Dr Syntax Gazing at Some Ruins.' This drawing by Rowlandson, which illustrates the same episode in the first Tour as the one in which Dr Syntax falls into the water while sketching a ruined castle, was omitted by Ackermann both from the magazine and the book. Among other unpublished drawings were Dr Syntax skating, being thrown from his horse while hunting, visiting a gaol, boarding a man-of-war, being frightened by a whale and being unable to stop his galloping horse at Land's End.