_Designed and etched in the ridiculous manner of Rembrandt, by
William Hogarth. Published according to the Act of Parliament,
May 1, 1751._
"Each hero is a pillar of darkness, and the sword a beam of
fire."[47]--FINGAL, Book I. p. 21.
[Illustration: PAUL BEFORE FELIX.]
For the etchings of Rembrandt, and a herd of servile imitators who,
without any of his genius, copied his defects, Hogarth had the most
sovereign contempt. He considered their productions as unmeaning
scratches, as dingy and violent combinations of light and darkness,
which would not bear to be tried by the criterion of either nature
or art. How far he was right in his opinion is not my inquiry; but
certain it is, that at the time of this publication they had the
sanction of those who were deemed good judges, and produced most
enormous prices. To correct this vitiated taste, and bring men back
to reason and common sense, our whimsical artist etched this very
grotesque print.
The Apostle, conformable to the general practice of the Flemish
school, is represented as a mean and vulgar character. Among the
Lilliputians he might have been a giant; among the Romans he must
have been a dwarf. In the true spirit of Dutch allegory, a figure
fat enough for a burgomaster, invested with wings "that clad each
shoulder broad," is seated on the floor behind him as a guardian
angel. At this unpropitious moment the guardian angel is asleep, and
a little imp of darkness,[48] ever active in mischief, is busily
employed with a hand-saw cutting through the leg of the Apostle's
stool, which falling, must inevitably bring the orator to the ground,
where he will probably be seized by the snarling dog on whose collar
is engraved "Felix," and who seems to have an eye to the saint,
though his nose is evidently pointed at his appalled master. Seated
in a wicker chair, with the Roman eagle over his head, and the fasces
at his left hand, Felix indeed trembles. On an adjoining seat is the
all-accomplished Drusilla and her lap-dog. Her olfactory nerves,
as well as those of her companion, are violently affected. With a
sacrificing knife in his right hand, his left clenched, and a
countenance irritated almost to madness, the High Priest appears
ready to leap from the bench and put the Apostle to death, but is
prevented by a more prudent senator. The audience are worthy of the
judges; male and female, young and old, are in dress, deportment,
and feature, perfectly Dutch. Of the same school is the statue of
Justice, with a bandage over one eye, and grasping, in the place of
a flaming sword, a butcher's knife.[49] She stands in awful state,
laden with bags of gold, the rewards of legal decisions.
At a table beneath the bench are five curious characters. The first,
maugre the thundering eloquence of St. Paul, is asleep; the next,
mending a pen; two adjoining are highly offended with a noxious
effluvia, while their bearded associate is grinning and pointing
at the cause from which it emanates. Regardless of all other
objects, an Hebrew counterpart of Shylock is expanding his hands in
astonishment at the unguarded vehemence of the preacher. Not less
exasperated is Tertullus, who, arrayed in the habit of an English
serjeant-at-law,[50] has nothing Roman but his nose. Boiling with
rage, and irritated almost to madness, he tears his brief: this,
a devil, who to give him peculiar distinction has three horns, is
carefully picking up and joining the remnants together.[51] The vase,
and silver plates in a recess, the violent stream of light which
dazzles the eyes of a priest _who stands with his back to it_, the
boat, bark, and white sail glittering in the wave, and a village and
windmill in the distance, are all of Rembrandt's school.
The plate was originally intended as a receipt-ticket to the large
"Paul before Felix," and "Pharaoh's Daughter;" and the artist stained
many early impressions with that yellow tint which time gives to
old prints. For the Paul, and Moses, he afterwards engraved another
design, and presented this to any of his friends who requested
it; but finding applications increase, he fixed the price at five
shillings.[52]