The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 2, May, 1851 — John Shaqi
The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 2, May, 1851Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 2, May, 1851
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
Hogarth's portraits were almost too faithful to please his sitters: he
was too truthful to flatter, even on canvas; and the wonder is that he
achieved any popularity in this fantastic branch of his art. Allan
Cunningham has said of him, that he regarded neither the historian's
page, nor the poet's song. He was contented with the occurrences of the
passing day, with the folly or the sin of the hour; yet to the garb and
fashion of the moment, he adds story and sentiment for all time. It is
quite delicious to read the excuses Allan makes for the foibles of the
man whose virtues had touched his own generous heart; he confesses with
great _naivete_ that he looked coldly--"too coldly, perhaps"--on foreign
art, and perhaps too fondly on his own productions; and then adds that,
"where vanity soonest misleads the judgment he thought wisely; he
contemplated his own works, not as things excellent in themselves, but
as the rudiments of future excellence, and looked forward with the hope
that some happier Hogarth would raise, on the foundation he had laid, a
perfect and lasting superstructure."
We must humbly differ from the poet in this matter; we believe, if the
characteristic cap were removed from that sturdy brow, we should find an
admirable development of the organ of self-esteem. He thought as little
of a future and "happier Hogarth," as he did of the old masters. He was
Monarch of the Present--and he knew it!
The age we live in talks much about renovation, but it is not a
conservative age; on the contrary, it would pull down Temple Bar, if it
dared, to widen the passage from the Strand into Fleet Street; and it
demolishes houses, shrines of _noble memories_, with a total absence of
respect for what it ought to honor. We never hear of an old house
without a feeling that it is either going to be destroyed or modernized;
and this inevitably leads to a desire to visit it immediately. Having
determined on a drive to Chiswick to make acquaintance with the dwelling
of Hogarth, and look upon his tomb--we became restless until it was
accomplished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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