ed
perhaps by Hogarth's own hand, to the memory of his canary bird! The
_thinking_ character of the painter's mind is evidenced in this as in
every thing he did--the engraving on the tomb suggesting reflection.
Charles Lamb said of him truly, that the quantity of _thought_ which he
crowded into every picture, would alone "_unvulgarize_" every subject he
might choose; and the refined Coleridge exclaims, "Hogarth! in whom the
satirist never extinguished that love of beauty which belonged to him as
a poet." There is something inexpressibly tender and touching in this
memento of his affection for a little singing bird: the feeling must
have been entirely his own, for he had no child to suggest the tribute
to a feathered favorite. The tomb was afterwards accompanied with one to
Mrs. Hogarth's dog. They are narrow, upright pieces of white stone laid
against the brick-wall, but they are records of gentle and generous
sympathies not to be overlooked. That Hogarth was more than on friendly
terms with the canine race, the introduction of his own dog into his
portrait clearly tells, and doubtless his bird often brought with its
music visions of the country into the heat and dust of Leicester
Square--soothing away much of his impatience. Men who have to fight the
up-hill battle of life, must have energy and determination; and Hogarth
was too out-spoken and self-confident not to have made many enemies. In
after years his success (limited though it was, in a pecuniary point of
view, for he died without leaving enough to support his widow
respectably), produced its ordinary results--envy and enmity: and
insults were heaped upon him. He was not tardy of reply, but Wilkes and
Churchill were in strong health when nature was giving way with the
great painter; an advantage they did not fail to use with their
accustomed malignity. The profligate Churchill, turning the poet's
nature into gall, infested the death-bed of Hogarth with unfeeling
sarcasm, anticipating the grave, and exulting over a dying man.

[Illustration: TOMBS OF DOG AND BIRD.]

Hogarth, warned by the autumn winds, and suffering from the restlessness
of approaching dissolution, left Chiswick on the 25th of October, 1764,
and returned to his residence in Leicester Square. He was cheerful--in
full possession of his mental faculties, but lacked the vigor to exert
them. The very next day, having received an agreeable letter from Doctor
Franklin, he wrote a rough copy of his answ