תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

for the Wellington Testimonial should be entrusted to Hogan; the subject-the Duke's concession to civil and religious liberty. And-a great sign of the times-the Friars preachers are building a beautiful church in Lower Dominick-street, not for a fashionable congregation, or for the wealth and rank of Dublin, but for the poor, devout, toil-hardened population of Britain-street, and Liffey-street, and the nameless lanes and alleys that intersect those thoroughfares. And this church is to be no barn-like square building, with decorations of ormolu and tinsel; no tame, chilly, mock Grecian structure; but from the long line of pure stone pillars, arches spring aloft; and windows, and vaulted roof, are rich with intertwining traceries. An Irish architect has planned this worthy temple-and one* whose munificence rivals the splendour of the Medicean era, has commissioned Hogan to execute a Pieta for the high altar of St. Saviour's!

The era which he had so longed for seemed at last to have dawned-what he foresaw nearly thirty years ago as the certain result of Emancipation was about to be accomplished, and the arts should now be "pushed on gloriously in Ireland." He had often counted over with his friends the different cities, towns, churches and convents of Ireland which possessed works of his. He took a secret pleasure in this; presently the bead roll should be increased, and his country the richer of his works. Now indeed there is something like hope. "If I live but two or three years," said Hogan, "with heaven's blessing I shall leave my family independent." The very thought of Sarsfield was joy to him. He had designed in sculpture some type of every other character of worth and value which Ireland had produced in these latter years. The patriot, the prelate, the apostle, the poet; the man of literature, the princely trader. Now he was to have the soldier with his chivalrous bearing, his action of command, and that magnificent Jacobite uniform! It was easy to know what was to be done. He would go to Rome where his studio was still undisturbed, and filled with the casts of his great works; and in the old ground where he had lived and toiled so many years, and near his dear good friend

[ocr errors][merged small]

Benzoni, and with his bright-eyed boy-his sculptor son*he would work once more on noble themes, with noble aims, and a heart full of thankfulness and hope. He had a vision of the promised land-No more.

He may be said to have been dying during the last year. He was quite broken down; and the grandest light that ever shone on human eyes could not scare away the death shadow. In the latter end of March he lay down to die. The Sunday before his death he left his bed and stole down to his studio. He looked round on his unfinished works, and pausing before the Pieta for St. Saviour's, he said to his son, and to Mr. Cahill his assistant, "finish it well, boys, I shall never handle the chisel more!" He was done with art; and yet not quite. Its power, in its most spiritual and subtile influence, was still over him. When he lay down, he directed search to be made for an engraving which he had stowed away somewhere, and which they did not know he possessed, and he had it pinned to the wall, for it was not framed, in such a way that he could see it from the position in which he lay. The subject was Thorwaldsen's figure of the Redeemer. He said that figure alone would have immortalized a sculptor, and he was never tired looking at it-the gently outstretched arms and whole attitude so well expressed the idea- Venite ad me omnes. Without a murmur, without one appeal for life, he felt the last hours approaching. He had received the sacraments of the Church. There was nothing more

How early Hogan dreamt that this son should inherit his genius with his name, is touchingly shown in a letter to one of the artist's sisters dated Rome Nov. 22, 1842. The citizens of Cork even so far back thought they ought to have some portrait or memorial of the great sculptor. Hogan was the least vain of men, and there is neither in painting nor in sculpture a representation of his noble head. A very fine photograph by Glukman is the only portrait to be found, However, when the wishes of his Cork friends were made known to him, he returned the following characteristic answer :"It (the request) is certainly very complimentary, and would be highly gratifying to any one desirous of ambition. I hereby acknow ledge my gratitude to him (Sir Thomas Deane) and my other friends who have been desirous of such an object. But at present I cannot spare time for such silly trifles. I must reserve that commission for my darling son and Roman boy Giovanni, when he is competent to undertake such a work, and when I am persuaded through the merits of my productions that I am worthy of sitting for my portrait."

to be done on earth. From time to time he spoke with the faithful friends who were around his bed of times long gone by, of those especially who were gone before him to Life Eternal. He talked of his father, of his saintly mother, of the only brother who died early, and of the sister who had given herself to God. He spoke of them as if they were not far from him. And then he would pray for his children, and taking his wife's hand assure her that he would "watch over her-most certainly watch over her." He knew not how to realise that anything could deprive her of that guardianship. For some hours he seemed insensible, except that when they read the prayers for the dying, he audibly made the responses; and for a long time the only words he uttered were-" beautiful! how beautiful!" Some recollection, or some blessed anticipation kept away the death chill; and without one struggle, one uneasy movement, he breathed his last-and the soul of the artist was with God.

Thus on the 27th March, 1858, Ireland lost one of the best and greatest of her sons. Three days after, the remains of Hogan were carried to Glasnevin Cemetery in a hearse open at the sides, so that as the procession passed through the city it was seen that on the coffin lay the hat and sword, scabbard and sword belt, worn by members of the Virtuosi of the Pantheon-the insignia of the honours which our countryman had won and worn with pride in the city of arts. His four sons followed, and a long train of men distinguished in every calling, members of the bar and the press, and the medical profession; literary men and artists-and representatives of the secular clergy, the Friars Preachers, and the Jesuit Fathers. For, as the Europe Artiste says:-"Genius has its triumph even in the vain, shallow city of Dublin, and the funeral car of Hogan, the great sculptor, who died poor as he had lived, was yet followed to the grave by a file of private carriages long enough to cover two of the Boulevards of Paris." The students of Trinity College, two hundred in number it is said, to their great honour be it remembered, without any orders from the superiors of the University, when the procession approached the college gates, issued two by two from the inner entrance, and wearing academic cap and gown, and headed by Professor Shaw, F. T. C. D., and

Professor Carmichael, F. T. C. D. took up their position in front of the procession, lifting their caps as they passed the hearse in respectful reverence for the dead, and headed the mournful cortege in its passage through the city. The Committee of the Glasnevin Cemetery had offered a plot of ground gratuitously in any part of the Cemetery which should be chosen for the grave of Hogan; and within the "O'Connell circle," and near the resting place of the Liberator, all that is mortal of the great sculptor awaits the Resurrection.

Where it will be asked were the Lord Mayor, and the Corporation? Where the organised and palpable body of the Royal Dublin Society? Where the Hibernian Academy. And the Royal Irish Academy? It is not here as in other countries where such associations think it one of their common duties to honour genius while living, and show the people that even its memory is the inheritance of a nation. When Rauch, the Berlin sculptor, died some few months since, we read how the Dresden artists decorated his coffin with flowers and laurel wreaths, accompanying it with honour to the railway station, and how the Berlin artists and members of the Royal Academy carried the remains to the "Trauerkapelle" where Professor Kiss (sculptor of the Amazon) had arranged a mournful decoration of candelabras, and tapers lighting the dead sculptor's statues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, and the winged Victories; and we said to ourselves, how un-English! We might not have crossed the channel for a word. When Schwanthaler died, the King of Bavaria had him laid in his own sepulchre side by side of a royal race, because the magnificent tomb he was building for his great sculptor was not yet finished. And when Thorwaldsen was carried to the grave, the streets of Copenhagen were lined with military, and the different companies of trades. All the members of the Academy of Fine Arts followed the hearse headed by their President the Crown Prince. And at the entry of the Church, his Majesty the king awaited the arrival of the corpse, and the Queen and Royal Princesses assisted at the funeral ceremony. We have something to learn yet.

But there is one thing we can do-and Heaven help us if we don't do it! We are a famous people they say at post mortem tributes. There is more now to be done than

a late regret might urge, or a vain shame compel. We have waited to honor Hogan till he died. Let us not delay to take his wife and children to our heart until we have to grieve for having deserted them.

If Hogan could have only thought that generous noble hearts would have taken these loved ones to their own, and that the Irish nation would have been proud of their adoption, his last earthly thought would have been a happier one. This consolation was not vouchsafed him. But let us do what he, even in the shadow of death, thought he must still be able to do. Let us protect his wife who is a stranger amongst us, and cherish, educate, and establish in life, his sons and daughers. It is scarcely to be believed that a government pension will not be obtained for Hogan's family. Lord Eglinton, our present respected Viceroy, the Lord Chancellor, and the Attorney General, have surely influence enough to have this, at least, secured. But why the delay? If Lord Carlisle were in office now we should not have to ask this question. But then he knew Hogan well; he knew his talents and his worth. The noblemen and gentlemen now in office have not perhaps had the like opportunities; but as this is no party question they would surely listen to representations properly made. Where are the Irish members? Why are they not united for once, to claim, or solicit, some provision for Hogan's eleven children?

While we await an answer to these questions, we must consider what more remains to be done. A government pension, according to our usage in this country, would go but a little way in such extremity. It would in fact be little more than an acknowledgment of a claim on the nation. Some men of public spirit, who well understand the necessity of freeing the country from an accusation of disgraceful supineness, have formed themselves into a committee for receiving in the City of Dublin subscriptions to the Hogan Fund. Thomas O'Hagan, Esq., Q.C., the eloquent advocate of many a good cause, and Dr. Wilde, who, a rare exception, finds time in the midst of a busy professional career to give aid when public good and national honor are concerned, hold the responsible office of secretaries; and members of many parties, and of every creed, have given valuable assistance, whether as subscribers or

« הקודםהמשך »