Note 23 — HOGARTH.
Reading edition
Mr. Townley, under the signature of a connoisseur, wrote the following lines to Mr. Hogarth on his Analysis of Beauty:—
"How could you dare, advent'rous man, To execute so bold a plan, Or such unheard of truths advance? At once so rashly to oppose Those fierce, outrageous, hardy foes, Fraud, Prejudice, and Ignorance! "To their despotic, cruel sway, Fair Science long has been a prey, All modern art they trampled down; The rising genius they deprest, The British taste they turned to jest, And damn'd at once—because our own. "The slavish principle I caught, The southern land of merit sought, And learn'd to think, to see, to say Eager I ran through every town, Penn'd every observation down, And gather'd judgment by the way. "On foreign tales and terms of art, On scraps of French, got well by heart, And learned guides, was my reliance; With light and shade my head I fill, The style of schools was all my skill. The painter's name was all my science. "Thus deeply tutor'd, I return'd, And o'er my tasteless country mourn'd; I pitied first, then laugh'd and sneer'd; Then curs'd the crude unfinish'd tints, The statues, busto's, vases, prints, When lo! th' Analysis appear'd. "I smil'd and read; grew grave—read on; Was pleas'd; the truths apparent shone; Nor could my prejudice resist 'em. The Line of Beauty I survey'd, The arguments I fairly weigh'd, And then acknowledg'd all your system. "With reverence, and respect, like you, The ancient works of art I view; But, like you, see with my own eyes; Abhor the tricks so grossly play'd, Lament the science sunk to trade, And dealers from my soul despise. "Pursue, unrivall'd yet, that art, Which bounteous nature did impart (Ne'er to be so profuse again): Our sons, in time to come, shall strive Where the chief honour they shall give, Or to your pencil or your pen."
Hogarth had previously presented this gentleman with a volume of his prints, in return for which he received the following very flattering testimony to his talents:—
"Trinity Lane, Feb. 28, 1750.
"Dear Sir,—Having been confined to my house by a violent cold, I have had many hours for contemplation, which at such a time generally turns on my friends, among whom you have been so good to let me call you one. Your late kind intention came into my mind, and gave me an uncommon degree of satisfaction; not on my own account only, but with respect to my family. Your works I shall treasure up as a family book, or rather as one of the classics, from which I shall regularly instruct my children, just in the same manner as I should out of Homer or Virgil. You will be read in your course,—and it will be no unusual thing to find me in a morning in my great chair, with my three bigger boys about me, construing the sixth chapter of the Harlot's Progress, or comparing the two characters in the first book of the 'Prentices.
"You are one of the first great men I ever was acquainted with, and the first great man I desire to be acquainted with, because you have neither insolence nor vanity. Your character has been sketched in different pieces, by different authors, and great encomiums bestowed on you here and there in English, French, Latin, and Greek: but I want to see a full portrait of you. I wish I were as intimate with you, and as well qualified for the purpose, as your friend Fielding,—I would undertake it. I have made an humble attempt here towards something, but I am afraid it has more of a death's head than the face of a man.—You won't be dispirited because my character of you is in the form of an epitaph, for you will observe at the bottom that I have given you a great length of days.
"In the corner, near Shakspeare, in Westminster Abbey, on a monument, elegant only by neatness and symmetry, the next generation may see something like the enclosed inscription, the freedom of which you will excuse, and consider it as coming from a man confined to his room, but from one who is ever, dear sir, your constant admirer, and most obliged servant,
"James Townley.
"To Mr. Hogarth in Leicester Fields.
"AD GULIELMUM HOGARTH, DUM TU QUID PULCHRUM, QUID TURPE, VOLUMINE DICIS, NATURÆQUE DOCES QUID SJT, ET ARTIS OPUS, ATQUE ANIMO CAUSAS, OCULO TABULASQUE DEDISTI, PICTORIS PRIMI NOMEN UTRINQUE PERES."