The Burial Place of Hogarth [pp. 286-290]

THE BURIAL-PLACE OF HOGARTH.
teacher. Being apprenticed to Ellis Gamble, a
silversmith, at the "Golden Angel," Cranbournestreet, young William drilled his hand and
trained his eye by such humble artistic work as
engraving salvers, mugs, spoons, and even trade
tickets.
When out of his apprenticeship he went
busily to work, and with the profits obtained
from engraving coats of arms, masquerade tickets, and illustrations to an edition of "Hudibras," he managed to become a student in the
academy of Sir James Thornhill. Hogarth did
more than this; he fell in love with Jane, the
daughter of his teacher, who was mightily incensed at the student's presumption, and sternly
forbade any such feelings. We grieve to say
that Jane proved obstinate, and the result was
an elopement, with the usual declaration by the
irritated father that he would "never forgive."
Time, however, and especially Hogarthl's increasing success as a painter, joined to the
clever management of the young wife and her
mother, effected a reconciliation.
The influence of Sir James Thornhill, but
especially the untiring industry and original
genius of Hogarth, soon gave the satiric painter
a notable place among artists. The people saw
vice whipped and folly ridiculed in his pictures.
The truth of such delineations was clear, though
the ideality of "high art" might be absent. Hogarth did not at first see his own vocation, and
actually tried to excel in the "grand style," but
soon returned to domestic and familiar scenes.
If a tolerably filled purse and the keeping of a
carriage be deemed proofs of an artist's success,
then must the son-in-law of Sir James Thornhill be placed among the victors on the battlefield of art. The more envious critics will,
however, remind us that such a result was obtained by Hogarth through the sale of his
prints, and not by the fame of his pictures.
The judicious painter soon perceived that his
subjects rather increased than lost in power by
being engraved. The sarcastic touches, the
pathetic expression, the hideous degradation of
vice, and the brutalizing influence of ignorance,
could all be told in the simple black and white
of an engraving. Thus Hogarth's genius became known to thousands who had never seen
one of his pictures. So eager and general was
the desire to procure prints of his most characteristic works, that certain publishers of the
time began to pirate these popular engravings.
These gentlemen soon found that Hogarth was
not exactly a pigeon to be plucked at their
pleasure. The irritated artist used his influence
so effectually as to procure the passing of an
act, in I735, which gave protection for fourteen
VOL. XXXI.-I9
years after publication to the owners of engravings.
Hogarth was not free from great faults. Vanity, rudeness, passion, and a narrow contempt
for liberal studies, were mixed with energy, originality, and independence of mind. But it must
be remembered that his true place in the Temple
of Art is to stand at the head of a new and
important school of painters. From this position he can not be displaced. The criticisms
of a century have added to his fame, and coming
times will probably uphold the judgments of the
past. When Leslie declares that in his paintings vice is always "detestable;" when Charles
Lamb reminds us that Hogarth had "the cordial
laughter of a man," not "the petrifying sneer
of a demon;" when Sir Joshua Reynolds describes him as the inventor of "a new species
of dramatic painting;" and the German artcritic, Dr. Waagen, was surprised at "the delicate shades of hlumor" and "the consummate
skill and freedom" displayed in the "Marriage
a la Mode," we may rest assured that such verdicts are not likely to be set aside.
His former home at Chiswick is still standing
in the lane leading from the village to the
Horticultural Gardens, the words "Hogarth's
House," on each side of the entrance, indicating
the artist's rural abode to all strangers. A
hundred years ago the place was doubtless well
suited to a man who loved a quiet retreat from
the turmoil and excitement of the metropolis.
Few artists or literary men would willingly
select it for a home now. The local memorials
of Hogarth are not numerous. Most of the
ancient trees, under which the painter must
have often walked, have vanished, but we are
shown the corner where he played at nine-pins,
the filbert walk, the epitaphs on a dog Pompey,
and on "poor Dick," a canary bird. Dick died
four years before his artistic master, "aged
eleven," but Pompey's monument bears date
I79I, two years after the death of Mrs. Hogarth.
Poor Crab, Hogarth's own favorite dog, whose
stern physiognomy his master painted on the
same canvas with his own, seems to have been
left without a monument. The "studio" is a
room over a stable or coach-house at the end
of the garden. Poor indeed must be the artist
who would now be willing to work in such a
place; probably Hogarth himself only used this
room for odds and ends of work, as his chief
studio must have been in London. Within the
house we are shown the apartment from which,
it is said, Jane Thornhill eloped with the daring
artist. As the place seems to have been the
residence of her father, Sir James, the statement is at least probable. To many this house
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