"The gods of old were logs of wood,
And worship was to puppets paid:
In antic dress the puppet stood,
And priests and people bow'd the head."
[Illustration: THE TIMES. PLATE I.]
There are three things of which your Englishman deems himself the
best of all possible judges: the art of stirring a fire, religion,
and politics. His infallibility in the first no one will presume to
question, except his wife; and with her he will dispute as long as
disputing is good. The mysteries of the second he understands better
than the Archbishop of Canterbury. As to the intricacies of the
third, which thinking men are apt to consider in some degree hidden
from those who are not admitted into the arcana, he can unravel them
with more ease, and point out with more precision what steps ought to
be taken, than can the Prime Minister, with all the aggregate wisdom
of the Cabinet.
So many of his Majesty's good subjects being thus gifted with an
intuitive knowledge of state affairs, it is no wonder that Britain
holds so high a rank among the nations; for each act of government is
stated and debated, not only in the two Houses of Parliament, but in
every tavern, coffeehouse, and porter-house in the metropolis.
To these eloquent leaders of the numerous clubs, we may add a myriad
of political writers, who are all but inspired. Without studying
either Machiavel, Locke, or Sidney, they pour forth a torrent of
lucubrations on the floating subjects of the hour; that hour past,
their letters, replies, remarks, and rejoinders are heard of no more.
In the hope of giving their puny offspring a longer life, some of
these learned Thebans, or their booksellers, called in the aid
of artists, to adorn their labours with _taking_ frontispieces.
These graphic ornaments were in general about as _lively_ as the
pamphlets they decorated; and it was found that the united efforts of
author, printer, painter, engraver, and publisher, could not ensure
immortality. Notwithstanding this general failure in their intended
operation, they had one very awkward effect. A sort of political
influenza was communicated to our engravers, and they also became
deep statesmen and profound politicians. While part of this band
sharpened their burins, and defaced much good copper in caricaturing
the members of administration, their opponents were equally
industrious, and equally pointed, in _taking off_ the _honourable
gentlemen_ on the other side of the house.
The buzzing of these insects of a day was little attended to: their
dulness preserved them from laughter, their weakness protected them
from resentment; they excited no passion except contempt.
Very different was the public expectation when it was found that
Hogarth intended to publish a series of political prints. From his
former productions they knew his powers, and considered him as able
to throw any party into ridicule. That which he was expected to
attack dreaded the strength of his aquafortis, which they apprehended
would have the effect of a caustic, not only on his copper, but on
the objects of his satire.
Previous to the publication of "The Times," Mr. Wilkes, who was then
at Aylesbury, was informed that the print was political, and that
Lord Temple, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Churchill, and himself, were the leading
characters held up to ridicule. Under the impression which this
intelligence conveyed, he sent Mr. Hogarth a remonstrance, stating
the ungenerous tendency of such a proceeding; which would be more
glaringly unfriendly, as the two last-mentioned gentlemen and the
artist had always lived upon terms of strict intimacy. This produced
a reply, in which Hogarth asserted that neither Mr. Wilkes nor Mr.
Churchill were introduced, but Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt were, and
the print should be published in a few days. To this it was answered,
that Mr. Wilkes would hardly deem it worth while to notice any
reflections on himself; but if his friends were attacked, it would
wound him in the most sensible part, and, well as he was able, he
should revenge their cause. This was a direct declaration of war: the
black flag was hoisted on both sides, and never did two angry men of
their abilities throw mud with less dexterity.
"The Times" was soon after published, and on the Saturday following,
in No. 17 of the _North Briton_, a most unmerciful attack was
directed against the King's Serjeant Painter. Since that period,
marvellous have been the variations of the patriotic needle; the
Colonel of the Buckinghamshire Militia has filled the first offices
in the city of London, and is now become chamberlain. Having in
these situations seen the errors of his former politics, he would,
I must think, be the first to acknowledge that the attack was not
only unmerciful, but in many respects unjust. The hand of time having
worn down political asperities, I hope--I believe--Mr. Wilkes will
have no objection to this nettle, forced in the hotbed of a party,
being plucked from that hallowed sod which covers the dust of William
Hogarth.
Should the artist and the chamberlain meet in Elysium, why may
they not drink oblivion to former feuds in a glass of Lethe? The
chamberlain would, I fancy, prefer champagne; but when a gentleman
travels in a strange country, he must take up with such beverage as
the place affords.
The attack commences with a ridicule of the _Analysis of Beauty_, or
rather of Hogarth's honesty in acknowledging that he was indebted to
a friend for a third part of the wording. The artist was sensible of
his own strength; but what is much more rare, he was conscious of
his own weakness. He knew the principles of his art; but not being
accustomed to explaining them with a pen, very prudently asked the
aid of those who were, to give his ideas such language as would
render them worthy public attention. This was at least honest; but as
the author of the _North Briton_ presents us with only part of the
apology, let us do the artist justice by inserting the whole.
After some leading remarks on the system which it was his wish to
establish, he continues as follows:--
"But observing in the fore-mentioned controversies that the torrent
generally ran against me, and that several of my opponents had turned
my arguments into ridicule, yet were daily availing themselves of
their use, and venting them even to my face as their own, I began to
wish the publication of something on this subject; and accordingly
applied myself to several of my friends, whom I thought capable of
taking up the pen for me, offering to furnish them with materials
by word of mouth. But finding this method not practicable, from the
difficulty of one man's expressing the ideas of another, especially
on a subject which he was either unacquainted with, or was new in its
kind, I was therefore reduced to an attempt of finding such words as
would best answer my own ideas, being now too far engaged to drop the
design. Hereupon, having digested the matter as well as I could, and
thrown it into the form of a book, I submitted it to the judgment
of such friends whose sincerity and abilities I could best rely on,
determining on their approbation or dislike to publish or destroy
it. But their favourable opinion of the manuscript being publicly
known, it gave such a credit to the undertaking as soon changed the
countenances of those who had a better opinion of my pencil than
my pen, and turned their sneers into expectation, especially when
the same friends had kindly made me an offer of conducting the work
through the press; and here I must acknowledge myself particularly
indebted to one gentleman for his corrections and amendments of
at least a third part of the wording. Through his absence and
avocation, several sheets went to the press without any assistance,
and the rest had the occasional inspection of one or two friends.
If any inaccuracies shall be found in the writing, I shall readily
acknowledge them all my own, and am, I confess, under no great
concern about them, provided the matter in general may be useful
and answerable, in the application of it, to truth and to nature; in
which material points if the reader shall think fit to rectify any
mistakes, it will give me a sensible pleasure, and be doing great
honour to the work."--_Preface to Analysis_, p. 20, edit of 1772.
The author of the _North Briton_ continues: "We all titter the
instant he takes up a pen, but we tremble when we see the pencil in
his hand."
As this essay was written in consequence of the artist giving a
pictured shape, it seems rather extraordinary that so good a logician
as Mr. Wilkes should drag in Hogarth's pen merely to titter at, and
acknowledge that he trembles at his pencil, which instrument, by the
way, drew forth this paper:--
"I will do him the justice to say, that he possesses the rare talent
of gibbeting in colours, and that in most of his works he has been
a very good moral satirist." That he has, it is most true. "His
forte is there, and he should have kept it. When he has at any time
deviated from his own peculiar walk, he has never failed to make
himself perfectly ridiculous. I need only make my appeal to any one
of his historical or portrait pieces, which are now considered as
almost beneath all criticism."
_Some_ of his portraits might have been exempted from this censure:
what does Mr. Wilkes think of Captain Coram, now in the Foundling
Hospital?
"The favourite 'Sigismunda,' the labour of so many years, the boasted
effort of his art, was not human. If the figure had a resemblance
of anything ever on earth, or had the least pretence to meaning
or expression, it was what he had seen, or perhaps made, in real
life, his own wife in an agony of passion, but of what passion no
connoisseur could guess."
After asserting that the figure was not human, this is rather too
much! From any gentleman, the daughter of Sir James Thornhill
had a claim to more politeness; but that so gallant a man as
Colonel Wilkes--a perfect knight-errant in all that related to the
sex--should make an estimable and respectable woman a party "in the
poor politics of the day, and descend to low personal abuse" (I use
his own language), because her husband had in these poor politics
adopted an opposite creed, excites astonishment!
Had this transaction passed in the year 1791, instead of the year
1762, it would have been less extraordinary; for, alas,
"The days of chivalry are no more."[132]
"All his friends remember what tiresome discourses were held by him,
day after day, about the transcendent merit of this 'Sigismunda,' and
how the great names of Raphael, Vandyke, and others, were made to
yield the palm of beauty, grace, expression, etc. to him, for this
long-laboured yet uninteresting single figure. The value he himself
set on this, as well as on some other of his works, almost exceeds
belief; yet from politeness, or fear, or some other motives, he has
actually been paid the most astonishing sums, as the price, not of
his merit, but of his unbounded vanity."
That the artist demanded too high a price for his painting of
"Sigismunda," I am free to acknowledge; but it has not been peculiar
to Mr. Hogarth to mistake his talents, and overrate his worst
performances. Mr. Wilkes must know that Milton, and many other great
men, have erred in the same way. I do not think that "Sigismunda"
was worth what he required; but that he has actually been paid the
most astonishing sums for his other pictures, as the price, not
of his merit, but of his unbounded vanity, I am yet to learn. The
remuneration he received for many of his works is to be found in
these volumes; it was seldom in any degree equal to their merits.
The painter is no more, but several of his pictures remain; and were
the "Marriage à la Mode," "Rake's Progress," etc., now upon sale,
the present age would, I am persuaded, sanction my opinion, and the
pictures produce much more astonishing sums than were originally paid
to the artist.
"He has succeeded very happily in the way of humour, and has
miscarried in every other attempt; this has arisen in some measure
from his head, but much more from his heart. After 'Marriage à la
Mode,' the public wished for a series of prints of a Happy Marriage.
Hogarth made the attempt; but the rancour and malevolence of his mind
made him soon turn away with envy and disgust from objects of so
pleasing contemplation, to dwell, and feast a bad heart, on others of
a hateful cast, which he pursued, for he found them congenial, with
the most unabating zeal and unrelenting gall."
Should any one assert that the strength of colouring, and astonishing
powers, which gave the name of Churchill so exalted a rank among
satirists, originated in malevolence and rancour, and that he could
not write a panegyric because he delighted in feasting a bad heart on
a bad theme, Mr. Wilkes would, I am certain, be the first to defend
him from such an aspersion.
That he did not succeed in an attempt to delineate a Happy Marriage,
I can readily believe. Hogarth was a painter of manners as they were,
not as they ought to be. He considered nature in the abstract, and
usually adhered to what he saw. Among those friends with whom Hogarth
lived in habits of intimacy, and whose domestic situations he had the
best opportunity of studying,--though Mr. Churchill and the Colonel
were of the number,--he might not know a family from whence such a
scene could be copied.
"I have observed some time his setting sun. He has long been very
dim, and almost shorn of his beams."
For a confirmation of the above assertion, see the print of "The
Medley," published this very year. My opinion of it the reader is
already in possession of, and that opinion corresponds with an
authority which, I believe, even Mr. Wilkes will consider as very
high:--"For useful and deep satire, 'The Medley' is the most sublime
of all Hogarth's works."--_Walpole._
"He seems so conscious of this (_i.e._ that his sun is setting, etc.)
that he now glimmers with borrowed light. 'John Bull's house in
flames' has been hackneyed in fifty different prints; and if there is
any merit in the figure on stilts, and the mob prancing around, it is
not to be ascribed to Hogarth, but to Callot."
Callot's was, I acknowledge, the first thought, but Sir Joshua
Reynolds will tell Mr. Wilkes that happy appropriation is not
plagiarism.
"I own, too, that I am grieved to see the genius of Hogarth, which
should take in all ages and countries, sunk to a level with the
miserable tribe of party-etchers, and now in his rapid decline
entering into the poor politics of the faction of the day, and
descending into low personal abuse, instead of instructing the world,
as he could once, by manly moral satire."
I too am grieved that Hogarth, or any other man of talents, should
descend to the poor politics of the faction of the day. But be it
remarked, that this was the first political print he designed; and
if so contemptible as it was before stated to be, it is rather
singular that this one little satire, the first he engraved on the
subject, and "destitute of every kind of original merit, in every
part confused, perplexed, and embarrassed, where the story is not
well told to the eye, and where we cannot discover the faintest ray
of genius," should excite so warm a resentment.
Mr. Wilkes goes on to ask, "Whence can proceed so surprising a
change? Is it from the frowardness of old age? or is it that envy and
impatience of resplendent merit in every way, at which he has always
sickened? How often has he been remarked to droop at the fair and
honest applause given even to a friend?" etc.
I am told, by those who lived in habits of intimacy with Mr.
Hogarth--never! But let us remember, that what is deemed fair and
honest applause by the person who receives it, may by an impartial
spectator be thought more than he is entitled to.
"It is sufficient that the rest of mankind applaud; from that moment
he begins the attack, and you never can be well with him, till he
hears an universal outcry against you, and till all your friends have
given you up."
That Hogarth should have wished to render a man infamous in the eyes
of society, before he would admit him to the honour of his regards,
is a paradox I cannot solve. I believe this kind of preparation for
friendship was never practised by any other person, of any age or
country.
"The public had never the least share of Hogarth's regard, or even
goodwill. Gain and vanity have steered his little bark quite through
life. He has never been consistent but with respect to these two
principles."
Hogarth was no hypocrite. By the word "public," is frequently meant
that party who are immersed in the violent factions of the day. For
them he never professed goodwill. But if by the public is meant
society in its various branches and different ranks, almost all his
works had as great a tendency to make the world wiser and better,
as had those of men who made more violent professions. His little
bark having been steered through life by gain and vanity, I hardly
know how to understand. He lived a long and laborious life; he was
admitted to be the first, the very first, in his walk; and died
worth a sum that a Jew broker will acquire before breakfast. As to
vanity,--of talents superior to any other artist,--he had a right to
be vain.
"But all genius was not born, nor will it die, with Mr. Hogarth;
and notwithstanding all his ungenerous efforts to damp or chill it
in another, I will trust to a discerning and liberal spirit in the
English nation to patronize and reward all real merit. It will in the
end rise superior to the idle laugh of the hour," etc.
Of this discerning and liberal spirit there is not a stronger
instance than the estimation in which Hogarth's works, not excepting
the _Analysis_ (however it may be worded), are held thirty years
after the publication of the _North Briton_.
"In the year 1746, when the Guards were ordered to march to Finchley
on the most important service they could be employed in,--the
extinguishing a Scottish rebellion which threatened the entire
ruin of the illustrious family on the throne, and, in consequence,
of our liberties,--Mr. Hogarth came out with a print to make them
ridiculous[133] to their countrymen, and to all Europe; or, perhaps,
it rather was to tell the Scots, in his way, how little the Guards
were to be feared, and that they might safely advance. That the
ridicule might not stop here, and that it might be as offensive as
possible to his own sovereign, he dedicated the print to the King of
Prussia, as an encourager of arts. Is this patriotism? In old Rome,
or in any of the Grecian States, he would have been punished as a
profligate citizen, totally devoid of all principle."
These are heavy charges; but mark how a plain tale shall put them
down. From the effects which are described as likely to result from
this most seditious print, we are tempted to think it must have
been designed, etched, engraved, printed off, and dispersed with so
much expedition as to arrive in Scotland before the Guards whom it
holds up to ridicule; for one of its designs was "to tell the Scots,
in his way, how little the Guards were to be feared, and that they
might safely advance." The march was in 1746, and the publication
of this print in 1750; therefore[134] it could not have these most
direful and dangerous effects! That he dedicated it to the King of
Prussia, as an encourager of arts, is true; but this dedication
was not inserted until another had been rejected, because it was
misunderstood by the King of England; and George the Second, with
all his virtues, was neither a judge of humour nor an encourager of
the arts. These premises granted, I think we may fairly draw this
conclusion: Had old Hogarth been a citizen of old Rome, or a member
of any of the Grecian States, and published such a representation
of his own times, he would not have been punished as a profligate
citizen: he would neither have been flagellated, impaled, decollated,
nor thrown from the Tarpeian rock; but his print would have been
laughed at by every member of the State who had the least ray of
humour, though--as in some cases that we have seen--the length of a
grave orator's beard might hide the risible emotions of his muscles,
and the amplitude of his robe conceal the shaking of his sides.
To detail the conclusion of this paper, about the dishonour of
his being appointed pannel-painter to the King, never suffered to
caricature any of the royal family, etc., is scarcely necessary.
If the appointment was less respectable than his merits demanded,
the disgrace did not fall upon him; but be it remarked, that the
office was afterwards held by Sir Joshua Reynolds; and however
elevated his taste, however superior his talents, his genius was long
distinguished and admired by the public before he had the honour of
taking the portraits of their Majesties.
Trusting that Hogarth's own works will sufficiently ascertain his
character, I shall not attempt his further vindication, but proceed
to the print.
A globe, which must here be considered as the world, though it
appears to be no more than a tavern sign, is represented on fire,
and Mr. Pitt, exalted on stilts, which are held by the surrounding
multitude, blowing up the flames with a pair of large bellows.[135]
His attendants are composed of butchers, with marrow-bones and
cleavers, an hallooing mob armed with clubs, and a trio of London
aldermen in the act of adoration. From the neck of this idol of
the populace is suspended a millstone, on which is inscribed
£3000 per annum, allusive to his pension, and intimating that so
ponderous a load must in time sink his popularity.[136] While he
is thus increasing the conflagration, a number of Highlanders,[137]
grenadiers, sailors, etc., are busily working a fire-engine to
extinguish it. The pipe is guided by a Union Office fireman at the
top. Defended by an iron cap, and decorated with a badge inscribed
"G. R.," this intrepid engineer pays no regard to three streams of
water which are furiously driven at his rear from the windows of the
Temple Coffeehouse. The Liliputian engines, through which these tiny
showers descend, are directed by a nobleman and two garretteers. An
inscription over the door determines the title of the former, who
is delineated without features: the two gentlemen in the attic were,
I believe, originally intended for Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Churchill, but
previous to publication the faces were altered.[138] A surplice is
still left on the figure over Lord Temple, and the Colonel's coat
is lapelled. Upon a sign-iron beneath them is a slaughterman,[139]
with a lighted candle in his hat, and a large knife in his pocket;
thus intimating that he is ready either to fire a city or murder a
citizen. Mounted to the situation he now occupies by a ladder, he
is drawing up a sign of the Patriot's Arms, and in this good work
is assisted by two strong-sinewed coadjutors, who are dragging the
ropes to which it is suspended. The blazonry is four clenched fists
in opposition to each other; the date, 1762.[140] This curious
delineation will be placed in the front of the Temple Coffeehouse,
for _the world to wonder at_. The Newcastle Arms, nearly broken
down, bears allusion to the Duke's resignation.[141] A Highlander,
carrying two buckets of water from the fire-plug to the engine,
is likely to be impeded by a fellow with a wheelbarrow full of
political papers, which are intended to feed the flames. This type
of the distressed poet, said to be intended as a representative of
the Duke of Newcastle, endeavours to overset the Scot, and burst the
engine-pipe by the same operation.
Wholly engrossed by avarice, the crafty Dutchman, with a hand in
each pocket and a pipe in his mouth, sits on his bales of goods, and
laughs at the destruction raging around him. A fox, fair emblem of
his cunning, is creeping out of a kennel beneath.
Close to him is a patriotic trumpeter, blowing the spirit-stirring
tube, and pointing to a show-cloth, on which is painted a wild
Indian. By the magisterial robe in which this trumpeter is arrayed,
and the city arms on the banner of his windy instrument, he is
decisively intended to personify Mr. Alderman Beckford, thrice Lord
Mayor of London. Beneath the savage to whom he points, is written,
"Alive from America." This grotesque figure is placed before two
tobacco hogsheads, grasps in each hand a purse inscribed "£1000,"
and has tied round him, so as to form a sort of Indian dress, eight
or ten little bags equally well filled. His countenance leads us to
judge that he delights in the devastation by which he is a gainer;
and seems to imply that our American brethren, like our Amsterdam
allies, were eager to furnish friend or foe with the product of their
respective countries. It may further intimate the Alderman's immense
riches, and that a leading article of his trade was tobacco.
A table clock, inscribed "Airs by Harrington," representing a company
of soldiers in a regular march, has an evident allusion to the
military doctrine of man being a machine. "The Norfolk jig, G. T.
_fecit_," hints at the Norfolk Militia, and Mr. George Townshend, who
paid unremitting attention to the discipline and appearance of the
corps raised in Norfolk.
"The Post Office," painted on a cracked board fastened against the
wall, may possibly signify the office of Postmaster-General being
then divided.[142]
In the opposite corner of the print, surrounded by his miserable
and famished subjects, sits the heroic Frederick of Prussia.
Regardless of their distress, and unmoved by their cries, tears, and
execrations--like Nero, who fiddled while Rome burnt--he is lost to
every feeling, except those which arise from the fine tones of his
Cremona. The effects resulting from his insatiable thirst of glory
are not confined to his own subjects. Fired by vaulting ambition,
he scatters destruction through surrounding states; depopulates
provinces, and lays waste kingdoms, to prove himself--a philosopher.
How far the rest of the figures in this group may refer to particular
persons or nations, I cannot determine. The female, with clasped
hands and eyes raised to heaven, has been supposed to be intended for
the Empress Queen; a venerable matron, stealing away with a trunk
under her arm, for the late Empress of Russia, Frederick's most
inveterate enemy, who ended her earthly reign on the 2d of January
1762. They may be so intended, though I must acknowledge I do not
discover anything which will wholly establish the supposition, but am
more inclined to consider them as merely exemplifying the horrors of
war.
The _fleur-de-lis_ hung from one of the houses in flames, and the
black eagle from the other, sufficiently indicate the powers intended
to be pointed out. The sign of the Salutation alludes to the treaty
between France and Spain, for the dexter figure is Louis Baboon; and
the sinister, Lord Strut.
The flames rage with so much violence as to prevent the fluttering
dove from alighting on any of the buildings; notwithstanding which,
this bird of peace, with an olive branch, hovers over them in the
midst of ascending smoke.
The exact point of time is determined by the waggon, inscribed
"Hermione," in the background.[143]
Such is my general idea of the preceding plate;[144] there may be
those who will discover many things which I do not see, and which
possibly never entered into the contemplation of the artist. As the
whole alludes to the politics of his own day, all the characters
introduced were his contemporaries, and several of them had been
his intimate friends, he might intentionally leave some parts
obscure;[145] or conceiving his meaning sufficiently obvious to those
who lived at the time, forget that it would become impervious to
posterity.
I have before observed that in allegory he was not happy; and the
dissimilar combinations here brought together are a proof of the
assertion. Soldiers and sailors, whose business it is to increase
the flames of war, carrying water to extinguish them, is not quite
consonant to our general ideas of their dispositions. Highlanders,
being universally considered as the soldiers of Europe, make but an
awkward appearance in the character of peacemakers.
A sign of the globe on fire, flames bursting out of the Globe Tavern
and three other buildings, with each an alehouse sign, to explain
what nations are meant, borders upon the bathos. Another nation
personified by the sovereign fiddling to his expiring subjects,
is not a bad thought, but here it is incongruous. It has not that
general unison with the other parts of the picture which either
writing or painting demands. Separated from the accompaniments,
this group might have made a good print; with the Globe Tavern, the
Temple Coffeehouse, the garretteers, and the aldermen, it does not
assimilate.
My last remark I shall take the liberty of borrowing from Mr. Wilkes,
for in this one point I have the honour of agreeing with him: "The
print is too much crowded with figures."