Trapped!

Anonymous French, A Courtier Standing Between Covetousness and Dissimulation (c. 1514) 

Festina Lente

Make haste slowly. 

William Hogarth, Industry and Idleness 2

Almost as intense as my youthful aversion to hard work, built upon the false premise that labor existed only for the sake of amassing fortune and fame, was a similar distaste for the task of attending church, built upon the false premise that public worship existed only so that the blowhards could fulfill their quota of prancing about for the week. 

Once again, taking a moment with Hogarth helped me to reconsider my assumptions. Both working and praying become a joy when they are driven by understanding and by love—the problems arise when we work for greed and pray out of vanity. 

For all of my protests, I always knew that piety was a virtue, because I always knew how what is lesser can only be defined through what is greater. My selfishness, however, would keep me from putting this into practice, and there was no easier excuse for being spiritually lazy than pointing my finger at other people. Look at those hypocrites, pretending to be holy while they satisfy their own appetites! 

This does not, of course, disprove the presence of the Divine, and it only shows why we need those graces all the more. If another man is making a mockery of his duties, am I suddenly allowed to abandon my own? Let him have his worldly amusements, and I can still keep my peace of mind—don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. 

Every Sunday, I was furious with the decadent priests at the altar and the sanctimonious scoundrels in the pews, which did everything to damage me and nothing to improve them. God asks for charity from me, and yet that turns out to be the one thing I refuse to give. 

As much as I appreciate a heady theological argument, this simple image does more for me than any string of syllogisms. It is one thing to merely talk about the qualities of a good man, and quite another to show me the example of a good man. 

Francis, accompanied by his master's daughter, is not interested in putting on some holy show, or catching up on the latest gossip. He is just happy to sing from his hymnal, neither putting on airs nor rolling his eyes in boredom. That he is doing so in the company of a nice young lady is not lost on me, a fellow who wasted too many years chasing after girls who could talk the talk, but would never walk the walk. 

In the top right we have the vain woman and the sleeping man, so commonly found in any place of worship. Francis is wise enough not pay them any heed, since the modest task for the day is right before him. 

We can hardly overlook the figure of the pew opener, the old lady who would guide worshippers to their seats. While it is likely that very few have noticed her, it is clear that Hogarth has noticed her, and I would dare to propose that God has also noticed her humble service. 

Prayer is surely not so taxing when it is actually about devotion, and not reduced to a tedious social performance. 

Psalms 119:97 

O! How I love thy Law it is my
meditation all the day. 

William Hogarth, Industry and Idleness 2: The Industrious Prentice Performing the Duty of a Christian (1747) 

Conscience

Francois-Nicolas Chifflart, The Conscience (1877) 

William Hogarth, Industry and Idleness 1

When I first came across this series of prints, I was still in college, and I was deeply confused about where my life would take me. In hindsight, a part of my problem was the very wording of my question, because I should have been more concerned about where I would take my life. 

I had long been told about the importance of hard work, and yet I did not bind my diligence to a sense of joyful duty. While they told me I could be successful if I put in the effort, I was not impressed by the prospect of riches and fame, only coming to appreciate intense labor once I discovered some deeper values worth living for. 

Please don't tell me a man is happy because he is rich, when it actually turns out that he is rich because he is happy. 

So much of Hogarth's work teaches us how virtue will raise us up, just as vice will drag us down, and it employs various images of prosperity and misery to drive the point home. This is a lesson worth learning, at any time or in any place, even if it is presented in an idealized manner. 

There is a danger, however, in treating the good fortune as an end in itself, instead of recognizing it as a consequence of a good character, an outward symbol for an inner commitment. As a child, I wondered what it meant to live "happily ever after" in the fairy tales, and if it was merely about defeating the dragon and winning the heart of the princess. Was the prince still a hero if he tried his best and fell in battle? 

I unfortunately know of far too many noble souls who have done precisely the right thing, only to never receive any earthly reward. I am hesitant to follow those who insist that hard work alone will bring us our happiness, without building upon the foundation of a healthy conscience. 

Our circumstances can be fickle, often unfolding in a way that has no connection to our merits, but what fascinates me about Hogarth's scenario is how both Thomas Idle and Francis Goodchild begin with exactly the same opportunities, and then end up making such radically different choices. In this particular narrative, no one has an unfair advantage, and no one has gotten a raw deal: it almost plays out like a moral experiment under identical conditions. 

The two apprentices are in service to one master weaver, and are asked to perform equal tasks. Nevertheless, Thomas is asleep at his loom, while Francis is at the top of his game. What may at first appear to be the trivial difference between having a good day and having a bad day is really grounded in the most basic judgments about what is "good" and what is "bad". 

One copy of The Prentice's Guide is neglected, while the other is well cared for. Thomas is more concerned with his beer and tobacco, and reading the latest novels, while Francis does not allow himself to be distracted, and keeps up with the local news. 

The Master does not look angry at Thomas—only disappointed. I know that look all too well, and I am now grateful that it eventually had some effect on me. 

The items in the frame are premonitions of their respective futures: to the left, a whip, shackles, and a hanging rope; to the right, a mace, a ceremonial sword, and a chain of gold. 

I have no problem with the cat being a cat, but I do frown upon Thomas not shooing the cat. 

What's that? You say Thomas is at least having some fun, and Francis just looks like a square? Yet regardless of what may come, Thomas is hung over, and Francis is smiling. Maybe it only sounds stuffy to someone who expects to receive and never intends to give. Be careful where you seek your contentment. 

Proverbs 23:21 

The Drunkard shall come to
Poverty, and drowsiness shall
clothe a Man with rags. 

Proverbs 10:4 

The hand of the diligent
maketh rich. 

William Hogarth, Industry and Idleness 1: The Fellow 'Prentices at Their Looms (1747) 

The Building and Loan

As a reference for Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6.2: 

The Almightier

Carl Hassmann, The Almightier (1907) 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode 6

One of my most thoughtful students had a charming habit of asking herself questions out loud, which she would then answer after a brief pause. While others might find this odd, it impressed upon me the importance of an inner dialogue, even if it did happen to seep out into the open from time to time. 

While we were looking over this final entry in the series, she began to wonder: "Why does Hogarth have to be so over the top, so melodramatic? I understand that these folks are selfish, and lustful, and treacherous, but am I expected to believe that this sort of terrible punishment will befall all the villains of the world? I see all kinds of nasty people who are sitting pretty." 

I knew better than to say anything, because she soon offered her own reply: "But they aren't really sitting pretty, are they? Their vices leave them rotting on the inside, though that would make for sort of a boring painting, so Hogarth takes their internal misery and reflects it in an external story. It's like an allegory about the state of their souls. Their Fortune mirrors their Nature." 

Well, there you have it! Your sins might not drag you into poverty, or burden you with some wasting disease, or leave you completely alone, but they will never permit you a moment of peace. 

Silvertongue has been hanged at Tyburn for the murder of the Earl, and the Countess can only return to her perpetually cash-strapped father. Though she has incurred no legal penalty, her life of status is now definitely over. Not even the needs of her child can overcome her guilt—or is it just shame? She has taken a fatal dose of laudanum. 

Only the old maid seems to show any grief. The father is already removing his daughter's wedding ring, the last vestige of her former glory, in a desperate attempt to feed his avarice. The starving dog proves how far he has now fallen. 

The child gives her mother one last kiss, though the marks on her face and the brace on her leg betray her final fate. The doctor berates the servant for having provided the drug, even as he appears more concerned with his professional pride than with his patient's comfort. 

While I do know of some swindlers, dissemblers, and philanderers who found themselves penniless and friendless, I fear that most of them are living under the illusion of success. Don't let yourself be tricked by the facade. 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode VI: The Lady's Death (painting, 1743) 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode VI: The Lady's Death (engraving, 1743) 

Michiel Sweerts, The Seven Works of Mercy

Michiel Sweerts, The Seven Works of Mercy (c. 1649) 

Feeding the Hungry 

Refreshing the Thirsty 

Clothing the Naked 

Harboring the Stranger 

Visiting the Sick 

Ministering to Prisoners 

Burying the Dead 

Works of Mercy

Master of Alkmaar, The Seven Works of Mercy (c. 1504) 

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Caritas (1559) 

Frans Francken the Younger, The Seven Works of Mercy (1605) 

Caravaggio, The Seven Works of Mercy (1607) 

Pierre Montallier, Works of Mercy (1680) 

The Pursuit of Fortune

Rudolf Henneberg, The Pursuit of Fortune (1866) 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode 5

A "bagnio" is one of those wonderfully obscure and fascinating terms, though not necessarily the sort of place in which you would like to find yourself. Since I have only seen the word in print, it turns out that I have been mispronouncing it for years. 

Apparently, through the Italian, it could mean either a Turkish prison or bath, and for Londoners it also referred to an exotic coffee house, which quickly degraded into the kind of establishment that would rent rooms for illicit liaisons. A bill on the floor identifies this one as "The Turk's Head". 

After attending the masquerade, as they were planning during the previous installment, everything falls apart for our crafty couple. We can reconstruct the events by the tragic evidence of this scene. 

Silvertongue and the Countess were hoping for a night all to themselves, but it seems that the Earl decided to follow them, confronting the shifty lawyer after breaking down the door. The two men drew their swords, much like contemporary men at a bar might make the challenge to "take it outside", and the cuckolded husband was run through twice. 

Silvertongue now flees out the window in only his nightshirt, as the owner and the night watchman rush into the room. The countess is distraught. Is there actually some genuine love for the Earl in her heart, or is she just realizing that this is the end for her life of luxury? I would like to believe that the shock of loss can suddenly restore our sense of decency and loyalty, even if it has come too little and too late. 

As always, the art on the walls gives us food for thought. Over the door is a depiction of St. Luke, which I initially found odd, until I remembered how our local priest would have his way with women in the sacristy—it takes all kinds. Luke is the patron saint of artists, so it is fitting that Providence is keeping a record. 

The rear wall has a tapestry of the Judgment of Solomon, though I fear that the lesson of sticking to our priorities is sadly wasted on these folks. I am told that the picture on the right is a pastoral scene of a shepherdess, though it has been marred by the twisted face and the exaggerated bosom of a prostitute. A professor once implied that the squirrel on her hand was a dirty reference, yet I can't for the life of me make the connection. Perhaps I am far more prudish and naive than I had thought. 

Those darn mercury pills keep showing up on the floor! 

My many "progressive" friends speak of sex as a casual and liberating thing, even as they overlook how the abuse of love can only result in pain. Nature means for marriage to be an act of absolute and unconditional commitment, so is it any surprise when jealousy rears its ugly head? There is a good reason why your blessed polyamory will leave everyone betrayed, bitter, and alone. 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode V: The Bagnio (painting, 1743) 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode V: The Bagnio (engraving, 1743) 

Jacques Callot, Seven Deadly Sins

Jacques Callot, The Seven Deadly Sins (c. 1620) 

Reverence

Warmth

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode 4

As indicated by the coronet over the bed and the mirror, our special couple have now inherited the titles of Earl and Countess Squanderfield. Recall that the social status came from the groom's side, though the new money came through the bride, and they hardly seem to have any worldly wants. 

While the high-class practice of the toilette as a social event, an imitation of the royal levee, will appear strange to us, we surely have our own elaborate customs that blur the line between culture and decadence. For my generation, well-to-do people would still show off by hosting dinner parties, which were in themselves painful enough, but the part I could never bear was the extended tour of the house, where the guest was expected to admire every private detail. 

There was the obligatory viewing of each bathroom in the home, and a fellow once proudly displayed a whole closet full of his wife's shoes and lingerie. I much preferred the more homey tradition of looking through old family photo albums. 

Another contemporary instance of flaunting the intimate is our confusion between the clothes we wear at home and the proper dress for going out. My students were already wearing pajamas and slippers to class during the 1990's, and I was barely surprised the other day when an entire family strolled through the grocery store while draped in their comforters. You may say this is only the behavior of the rabble, and yet they drove away in a Range Rover. 

In any case, the accidents of fashion do not make the man—what sort of motives lie behind the exterior? The Countess is ignoring her curious assembly of visitors, which includes an opera singer and a flutist. She only has eyes for the lawyer, Silvertongue, who has now clearly established himself as her lover. Has the Earl bothered to notice another man's portrait hanging in his wife's bedroom? 

The other paintings refer to uncomfortable sexual themes (Lot and his daughters, Jupiter and Io, the rape of Ganymede), reminding me of a creepy colleague whose entire living room wall was covered with artsy nude photographs. 

The African page boy laughs as he point to the horns on a figurine. It had to be pointed out to me that the Countess now has a child, as shown by the coral teether hanging over the back of her chair. The infant's absence speaks volumes about her priorities. 

Silvertongue proposes attending a masquerade ball, where the anonymity allows them to appear together in public, without the risk of scandal. I think of a cheating girlfriend who thought she was being clever by meeting her boys-on-the-side at a bar she assumed I would never frequent; my only excuse for being pathetic was that I somehow hoped she would change. 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode IV: The Toilette (painting, 1743) 

William Hogarth, Marriage A-la-Mode IV: The Toilette (engraving, 1743) 

Fellowship

Fearlessness

Piety

Legacy