WILLIAM HOGARTH. 
893 
corrected by tlieRev.Mr.Townley. Thefamily of Hogarth rejoiced when 
thelastsheetofthe “Analysis” was printed off; as the frequentdisputes 
he had with his coadjutors in the progress of the work, did not much 
harmonize his disposition. This work was translated into German b}" 
Mr Mylius, when in England, under the author’s inspection ; and the 
translation was printed in London, price five dollars. A hew and 
correct edition was in 1754 proposed for publication at Berlin, by 
Ch. Fr. Vok, with an explanation of Mr. Hogarth’s satirical prints, 
translated from the French; and an Italian translation was published 
at Leghorn in 1761. 
Hogarth had one failing, in common with most people who attain 
wealth and eminence without the aid of a liberal education. He 
affected to despise every kind of knowledge which he did not pos- 
sess. Having established his fame with little or no obligations to 
literature, he either conceived it to be needless, or denied it because 
it was out of his reach. His sentiments, in short, resembled those of 
Jack Cade, who pronounced sentence on the clerk of Chatham 
because he could read and. write. Till, in evil hour, this celebrated 
artist commenced author, and was obliged to employ the friends 
already mentioned to correct his “ Analysis of Beauty,” he did not 
seem to have discovered that even spelling was a necessary qualifica- 
tion ; and yet he had ventured to ridicule the late Mr. Rich’s defi- 
ciency as to this particular, ia a note which lies before the “Rake,” 
whose play is refused w hile he remains in confinement for debt. 
Before the time of which we are now speaking, one of our artist’s 
common topics of declamation, was the uselessness of books to a man 
of his profession. In “ Beer-street,” among other volumes consigned by 
diim to the pastry-cook, we find “Turnbull on Ancient Painting,” a 
treatise w'hich Hogarth should have been able tq understand before 
he ventured to condemn. When his Sigismunda appeared, it was 
condemned, and he was irritated ; whereas a word in its favour might 
have comtT^anded a proof print, or forced an original sketch, out of our 
artist’s hands. The person who supplied this remark owed one of 
Hogarth’s scarcest performances to the success of a compliment, which 
might have seemed extravagant even to sir Godfrey Kneller. 
The following well-authenticated story will also serve to shew how 
much more easy it is to detect ill-placed or hyperbolical adulation re- 
specting others, than when applied to ourselves. Hogarth being at din- 
ner with the celebrated Cheselden, and some other company, was told 
that Mr. John Freke, surgeon of St. Bartholomew’s hospital, a few 
evenings before, at Dick’s coffde-house, had asserted that Greene 
was as eminent in composition as Handel. “ That fellow Freke,” 
replied Hogarth, “ is always shooting his bolt absurdly one way or 
another. Handel is a giant in music, Greene only a light Forence 
kind of composer.” — “ Ay,’’ said the informant, “ but at the same 
time Mr. Freke declared you were as good a portrait painter 
as. Vandyke.” — “There he was in the right,” added Hogarth ; “ and 
so I am — give me my time, and let me choose my subject.” 
Hogarth was the most absent of men. At table he would sometimes 
turn round his chair as if he had finished eating, and as suddenly 
would feiurn it, and commence his meal again. He once directed a 
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