James Gillray's "New Morality" is an apocalyptic, panoramic attack on British radicals, Whig politicians, and writers who were sympathetic to the French Revolution.
The print visually brings to life an anti-French satirical poem written by George Canning, the brilliant young Tory politician who would later become Prime Minister.
This copy has a written name of a previous owner at the top right margin. This was written a long time ago as can be seen by the fading colour of the ink and does not detract from this rare engraving.
It was originally published as part of the Anti-Jacobin magazine as can be seen by the original folds where it was bound into the copy.
A lifetime copy of an important Gillray engraving, and a masterpiece of anti-French Revolution propaganda from the 18th century, commissioned by the Government of the time.
Explanation of the image:
The setting is a dystopian, fictionalized takeover of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. Gillray imagines that the French have successfully invaded Britain, desecrated the church, and installed a bizarre new state-sanctioned religion.
Standing on a three-legged stool is Louis-Marie de La Révellière-Lépeaux, a real-life leader of the French Directory. He was the founder of Theophilanthropy, a deistic, anti-Christian sect born out of the Revolution.
Behind him stand three grotesque, monstrous statues representing "Revolutionary Virtues".
Philanthropy is depicted as a giant monster literally devouring the globe.
Sensibility (inspired by Rousseau) holds a book while stepping on a decapitated human head, weeping over a dead bird while ignoring human slaughter.
Justice is shown as a bloodthirsty executioner holding a guillotine.
The Worshipful British Poets (Center-Right), bowing flat on their faces before Lépeaux, are the great Romantic poets Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey.
Because they supported early revolutionary ideals, Gillray draws them with asses' heads, clutching their own radical poetry books.
Nearby, Charles Lamb is drawn as a croaking frog, and a "Cornucopia of Ignorance" spews out radical London newspapers and atheist pamphlets.
Emerging from a turbulent sea of beer (labeled as Whitbread’s, a prominent Whig brewer) is a massive sea monster—the Leviathan (The Whig Party).
The creature has the face of the Duke of Bedford, a wealthy aristocrat who heavily opposed the war with France. He has a giant fishhook through his nose, showing he is easily led by French propaganda.
Riding on his back are the leaders of the British political opposition, including Charles James Fox and George Tierney, all wearing French revolutionary red caps (bonnets rouges) and cheering on the destruction of their own country.
The Anti-Jacobin Review and Magazine was established in 1798 as a weapon of psychological warfare. Funded and backed by William Pitt’s conservative government, its sole purpose was to counter-attack pro-French, radical sentiment in Britain.
They commissioned and included this massive print for three specific reasons:
1. To Weaponize Patriotism: By August 1798, Britain was terrified of a French invasion. By showing St. Paul's Cathedral conquered and British traditions replaced by a bizarre French cult, the magazine effectively terrified the public into supporting the government's war effort.
2. To Brand the Opposition as Traitors: The magazine wanted to link mainstream Whig politicians (like Fox and Bedford) directly to French regicide and atheism. By depicting them as literal monsters or worshipers of a French priest, it ruined their political credibility.
3. A Visual "Punch" to Match the Poetry: George Canning’s poem New Morality was incredibly sharp, but a massive, 2-foot-long folding caricature by Gillray—the most famous artist of the era—ensured that even people who didn't read the dense poetry would completely understand the anti-Jacobin message. It was the ultimate, viral propaganda tool of 1798
