Leaving these two bright luminaries of their profession to throw dust, and render that obscure which without their explanation would have been perfectly clear, let us attend to the son of Solomon, who is fastened in his chair and brought to give his voice for a fit person to represent him in Parliament. This is evidently a deaf idiot, but he is attended by a man in fetters,[78] very capable of prompting him, who is at this moment roaring in his ear the name of the gentleman for whom he is to vote. Behind him are two fellows carrying a man wrapped in a blanket, apparently in so languid a state, that he cannot be supposed to feel much interest in the concerns of a world he is on the point of leaving.[79] The catalogue of this motley group of electors is concluded by a blind man and a cripple, who are slowly and cautiously ascending the steps that lead to the hustings. In the group an artist is drawing a profile of one of the candidates, and in both air and character this Sayers of his day has given a very striking resemblance of his original. The constable, fatigued by double duty, is at peace with all mankind—a deep sleep is upon him. Many of the crowd are attentively listening to the soft sounds of a female siren, warbling forth a brown paper libel on one of the candidates in that universal language which those that cannot read may yet understand,—the hero of this satire being delineated as suspended to a gibbet on the top of the ballad.
In the sinister corner is a view of Britannia's chariot oversetting, while the coachman and footman are playing at cards on the box. Here is one of the few instances where Hogarth has mounted into the cloudy heights of allegory; and here, as Mr. Walpole justly observes, he is not happy: it is a dark and dangerous region, in which almost every aeronaut of the arts has lost himself, and confused his earth-born admirers. On a bridge in the background is a carriage, with colours flying, and a cavalcade composed of worthy and independent freeholders advancing to give their suffrages with all possible éclat.
The village in the distance has a pretty effect. Of the church we may fairly say, as Charles the Second did of that at Harrow on the Hill, "It is the visible church."
Part of this plate was engraved by Morrilon le Cave, who was a scholar of Picart's. In the year 1733, he engraved from Hogarth's design a small print of Captain Coram, etc., as the headpiece to a power of attorney for the Governors of the Foundling Hospital: he also engraved a head of Doctor Pococke, which is the frontispiece to Twell's edition of the Doctor's works.
PLATE IV.
CHAIRING THE MEMBER.
When Philip's warlike and victorious son
A kingdom conquer'd or a battle won,
His legions bow'd the head, and bent the knee,
And cried, exulting,—Lo, a Deity!