1764.
1. Finis, or the Tail-piece. The Bathos, or manner of sinking in sublime painting, inscribed to the dealers in dark pictures.[1] Time breathing out his last, a ruinous tower, and many other allegorical devices; among the rest, he has introduced his own "Times."[2]
[1] On this print, which he called Finis, and represents the destruction of all things, the following epigram, ascribed to Charles Churchill the poet, and said to have been written by him when at Mr. Dell's, in Kew-foot-lane, April 18, 1764, is printed from The Muse's Mirrour, vol. I. p. 8.
On Hogarth's print of the Bathos, or the Art of Sinking in Painting.
All must old Hogarth's gratitude declare,
Since he has nam'd old Chaos for his heir;
And while his works hang round that Anarch's throne,
The connoisseurs will take them for his own.
Mr. Walpole's Anecdotes, 8vo. vol, IV. p. 191.
[2] A few months before this ingenious artist was seized with the malady which deprived society of one of its greatest ornaments, he proposed to his matchless pencil the work he has intituled a tail-piece; the first idea of which is said to have been started in company, while the convivial glass was circulating round his own table. "My next undertaking," says Hogarth, "shall be the End of all Things." "If that is the case," replied one of his friends, "your business will be finished; for there will be an end of the painter." "There will so," answered Hogarth, sighing heavily; "and, therefore, the sooner my work is done, the better." Accordingly he began the next day, and continued his design with a diligence which seemed to indicate an apprehension (as the report goes) that he should not live till he had completed it. This, however, he did in the most ingenious manner, by grouping every thing which could denote the end of all things—a broken bottle—an old broom worn to the stump—the butt-end of an old musket—a cracked bell—bow unstrung—a crown tumbled in pieces—towers in ruins—the sign-post of a tavern, called The World's End, tumbling—the moon in her wane—the map of the globe burning—a gibbet falling, the body gone, and the chain which held it dropping down—Phœbus and his horses dead in the clouds—a vessel wrecked—Time, with his hour-glass and scythe broken; a tobacco-pipe in his mouth, the last whiff of smoke going out—a play-book opened, with Exeunt omnes stamped in the corner—an empty purse—and a statute of bankruptcy taken out against Nature.—"So far, so good," cried Hogarth; "nothing remains but this,"—taking his pencil in a sort of prophetic fury, and dashing off the similitude of a painter's pallet broken—"Finis," exclaimed Hogarth, "the deed is done—all is over."—It is remarkable, that he died in about a month after this tail-piece. It is also well known he never again took the pencil in hand.
2. The Bench.[1] The same described under the year 1758; but with additions. The plate thus varied occurs in two states. In the first of these we have only "This plate could have been better explained, had the author lived a week longer." In the second impression of it we are told, that "The unfinished group of heads, in the upper part of this print, was added by the author in October 1764; and was intended as a farther illustration of what is here said concerning Character, Caracatura, and Outrè. He worked upon it a day before his death, which happened the 26th of that month." This plate exhibits the inside of the Common Pleas, with portraits of the following judges then belonging to that court:
| Hon. | Sir Edw. | Sir John | Hon. Mr. Justice |
| Wm. Noel. | Clive. | Willes, Ld. | (now Earl) |
| Ch. Justice. | Bathurst. |
Mr. Edwards's picture on this subject (see p. [367].) differs from both the plates.
[1] A term peculiarly appropriated to the Court of Common Pleas.
3. Hell-Gate, Satan, Sin, and Death. Milton's Paradise Lost. Book II. A large print. Engraved by C. Townley, and intended to have been published April 15, 1767. It was dedicated to the late Mr. Garrick, who possessed the original (unfinished) picture painted by Hogarth. The plate was destroyed, and only a few of the prints are now remaining. The original is in the possession of Mrs. Garrick.
It is impossible to conclude my account of it without observing, that the united labours of Teniers, Heemskirk, and Callot, could not have furnished a more absolute burlesque of this noble subject, than Hogarth, who went seriously to work on it, has here produced. "How art thou fallen, O Lucifer, thou son of the Morning!" will be the exclamation of every observer, on seeing this unaccountable performance, in which Satan and Death have lost their terrors, and Sin herself is divested of all the powers of temptation.