13
THE
of $ur ILorfc.
VOL. IL
THE
f^istorp of ©ur lUri
AS EXEMPLIFIED IN WORKS OF ART:
WITH THAT OF
HIS TYPES ; ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST ; AND OTHER PERSONS
OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT.
COMMENCED BY THE LATE
MRsf JAMESON.
CONTINUED AND COMPLETED BY
LADY EASTLAKE.
IN TWO VOLUMES. — VOLUME II.
/£«•• _v t>^\ty
NEW EDITION.
\V •—
LONDON:
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST 16th STREET.
1892.
N
T3
I8SO
590Gl
BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
CONTENTS
THE SECOND VOLUME.
THE LORD'S PASSION.
FAOK
Entry into Jerusalem . . . - * . • . •• . 5
Christ washing the Disciples' Feet . . . .• • , .12
The Last Supper . . . . . .18
The Agony in the Garden . . . . . .24
The Betrayal ...... ... . 34
Christ brought before Annas . . « .. .- •' .44
Christ before Caiaphas . . . . ... 48
The Mocking before Caiaphas, and the Denial of our Lord by Peter . 53
Christ before Pilate . . V , • ' . • . .61
Christ's Appearance before Herod . . • » » . . 64
Christ's Second Appearance before Pilate . ' :. ^ . 65
The Flagellation . * . . «••'.•' .71
Christ after the Flagellation . V . . . . .81
The Crowning with Thorns . . . . '- ,. . .84
The Ecce Homo . . . . . „ '. .91
Christ bearing His Cross ...... 100
Christ fallen beneath the Cross . . . . . .117
The Stations . . . . . ,v . ' .120
Christ stripped of His Garments . . * . .124
The Virgin wrapping the Linen Cloth round our Saviour's Body . 126
Our Lord being offered the Cup to drink . ' ; . .127
Christ ascending the Cross . . . •- • j-.- . • . 129
Our Lord being nailed to the Cross . . , . . 130
The Elevation of the Cross . . '»£''- --'^ • .' . 134
The Crucifixion . ,-:;•* . . '-. .136
Various Classes of the Crucifixion . ' -.— . . .139
The Crucifixion symbolically treated . . . '•« . 141
The Crucifixion, with the Virgin and St. John \ • . • . 149
Crucifixion with Lance and Sponge . . .«•.-• . 160
Vlll CONTENTS OP THE SECOND VOLUME.
PAGE
The Crucifixion with the Thieves . . . . .164
The Crucifixion with Angels . . . . . .172
The Crucifixion with the Virgin fainting . . . .179
The Crucifixion with the Virgin, St. John, and Saints . . 184
The Crucifixion with the Magdalen _ . , . . . . . .1.85
The Crucifixion with the Maries . • . ' . ) . . .187
Doctrinal Crucifixion, by Fra Angelico . . . .188
The Tree of the Cross . .... 194
Crucifixion on Cross with living Arms ..... 200
Soldiers dividing Robe . . . . _ , , . 203
The Crucifixion with the Figure of Christ alone . . . 205
The Figure of Adam connected with the Crucifixion . , . 207
The Crucifixion considered as a Whole . . . 209
The Descent from the Cross ...... 213
The Pieta . . . . . . .226
The Virgin and Dead Christ alone ..... 235
The Virgin with the Dead Christ and Angels .... 236
The Bearing the Body of Christ to the Sepulchre . . . 238
The Entombment . . . . . . .243
The Descent into Limbus . .... 250
The Resurrection . . . . . . . 263
The Women at the Sepulchre ...... 272
The Apparitions of our Lord . . . . . .277
The Appearance of Christ to the Magdalen .... 278
The Appearance of Clirist to the Maries .... 286
The Journey to Emmaus . . . . . . 287
The Supper at Emmaus .... . 292,
The Unbelief of Thomas . . . . . .298
Jesus appearing at the Sea of Tiberias ..... 302
The Charge to Peter ....... 303
The Ascension ........ 305>
The Sign of the Cross . . . . . . 314
The Crucifix . . . . . . , . 325
Christ as the Lamb ....... 335
Christ as the Good Shepherd . . , . . .340
Christ as Second Person of the Trinity .... 345
Christ seated in a Glory ...... 353
The Rest of the Church . . . . . 356
Instruments of the Passion ...... 360
Dead Christ, erect in the Tomb, showing His Wounds . . 360
Dead Christ in the Tomb, supported by Angels or Sacred Personages 362
Dead Christ in Tomb, with the Virgin Mary and St. John . . 363
The Man of Sorrows ....... 366
The Mass of St. Gregory . . . . . .369
The Arms of Christ 371
CONTENTS OP THE SECOND VOLUME.
PAGE
Christ enthroned ....... 372
Salvator Mundi ........ 374
Christ treading on Asp and Basilisk, on Young Lion and Dragon . 375
Christ as Preacher ....... 376
Christ treading the Wine-press ...... 376
II Salvatore . . .... . .377
Christ as Pilgrim . .... 377
The Child Christ ..-.-.. . .378
Intercession , . . „ • . • :; . 382
The History of the True Cross . . ^ . . . . 385
The Last Judgment ... . . . . . 392
VOL. II.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE SECOND VOLUME.
Those marked with an asterisk have not been engraved before.
139. Entry into Jerusalem. Catacombs.
140. Entry into Jerusalem. Early Miniature.
*141. Entry into Jerusalem. Drawing. Taddeo Gaddi.
142. Christ washing Disciples' Feet. Catacombs.
143. Christ washing Disciples' Feet. Giotto. Arena Chapel
144. Christ washing Disciples' Feet. Fra Angelica.
145. The Agony in the Garden. Early Greek Miniature.
146. The Agony in the Garden. Gaudenzio Ferrari.
147. The Kiss of Judas, and Prostration of the Guards Fra Angelica.
148. The Betrayal. Duccio. Siena.
1 49. Christ before Caiaphas and Annas. Giotto. Arena Chapel.
150. Christ before Caiaphas. Gaudenzio Ferrari.
*151. The Mocking of Christ. Miniature. Bologna.
*152. The Mocking of Christ Silver-gilt Plates. Cathedralt Aix-la-CIiapelle.
*153. The Mocking of Christ. Ivory.
154. The Mocking of Christ. Fra Angelica.
155. The Mocking of Christ before Caiaphas. Duccio.
156. Christ before Pilate. Duccio. Siena.
* 157. Christ before Pilate. Ivory.
*158. The Flagellation. Silver-gilt Plates. Aix-la-ChapelU.
*159. The Flagellation. Ivory.
160. The Flagellation. Fra Angelica.
161. The Flagellation. L. Carracci. Bologna Gallery.
162. The Crowning with Thorns. Speculum Salvationi*.
163. Ecce Homo. Gaudenzio Ferrari. Milan.
*164. Ideal Ecce Homo. Moretto. Museo Tosi, Brescia.
165. Christ carrying the Cross. Marco Palmezzano.
166. Christ carrying the Cross. Fra Angelica. S. Marco.
Xl'l LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME.
*167. Christ carrying the Cross. Taddeo Gaddi. S. Croce, Florence.
*168. Christ carrying the Cross. Bible Historiee, Paris.
169. Christ carrying the Cross. Paolo Morando. Verona Gallery.
170. Christ fallen beneath the Cross. Domenicliino. Stafford Gallery.
171. S. Veronica. Andrea Sacchi.
172. Christ fallen beneath the Cross. Station pillar. Nuremberg.
173. Christ stripped of His Garments. Giotto.
*174. The Virgin binding the Cloth round Christ. Cologne Museum.
175. The Offering the Vinegar. Lucas van Ley den.
*176. Christ ascending the Cross. Italian Miniature.
177. The Nailing to the Cross. IfAgincourt.
178. The Nailing to the Cross. Fro, Angelica.
179. The Nailing to the Cross. Speculum. M. Berjeau.
*180. Sun and Moon at Crucifixion. Ancient ivory.
181. The Crucifixion. Miniature. Brussels Library.
182. The Crucifixion. Catacomb of Pope Julius.
183. Virgin and St. John at Foot of Cross. Lorenzo di Credi.
184. The Crucifixion. Michael Angela.
185. The Crucifixion. Martin Schan.
186. Virgin arid St. John at Foot of Cross. Guffins. Church of Notre Dame
at S. Nicolas, between Antwerp and Ghent.
*187. Legend of Longinus. Belgian MS. Mr. Holford.
*188. Early Crucifixion with Thieves. Monza.
*189. Bad Thief. Antonello da Messina. Antwerp Gallery.
190. Angels in Crucifixion. Pietro Cavallini. Assisi.
191. Angels round Cross. Duccio. Siena.
192. Angel exchanging Crown of Thorns for real Crown. D'Agincourt.
193. Angels receiving Soul of Good Thief. Buffalmacco. Campo Santo.
194. Demons receiving Soul of Bad Thief. N. di Pietro. Pisa.
195. Angel lamenting, above Crucifixion. Gaudenzio Ferrari.
196. Virgin fainting. Duccio. Siena.
197. Magdalen at Foot of Cross. Luiui.
*198. The Crucifixion, with Church and Synagogue. Draining.
199. Soldiers quarrelling over Division of Robe. Luini.
*200. Adam at Foot of Cross. English MS. B. Museum.
201. Descent from Cross. Luccio. Siena.
202. Descent from Cross. N. di Pietro. Pisa.
203. Descent from Cross. Raphael. M. Antonio.
204. Descent from Cross. Fra Angelica. Accademia, Florence.
205. Pieta. Greek miniature.
206. One of the Maries in Pieta. Donatella.
207. Pietc\. Fra Bartolomeo. Pitti.
208. Pieta. Fra Francia. National Gallery.
209. The Bearing to the Sepulchre. Raphael.
210. The Bearing to the Sepulchre. Rembrandt etching.
211. Entombment, with Virgin assisting. S. Angela in Formit.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME. Xlll
212. Entombment. P. della Frances ca. Borgo S. Sepolcro.
*213. Colloquy between Satan and Prince of Hell. Ambrosian Library, Milan.
*214. Christ at Door of Hell. Ambrosian Library, Milan.
*215. Jaws of Hell. Bible Histories.
216. Descent into Limbus. Fro, Angelica.
*217. Resurrection. Shrine S. Albinus. Cologne.
218. Resurrection. Giotto.
219. Resurrection. Perugino. Vatican.
220. Resurrection. Annibale Carracci. Louvre.
221. Maries at Sepulchre. Duccio. Siena.
222. Christ appearing to Magdalen. Duccio. Siena.
223. Christ appearing to Magdalen. Raphael.
224. Journey to Eminaus. Duccio. Siena.
225. Journey to Emmaus. Fra Angelico. S. Marco.
226. Supper at Emmaus. Titian. Louvre.
*227. The Incredulity of Thomas. Byzantine MS.
228. The Incredulity of Thomas. Cima. Belle Arti,
*229. Ascension. Early ivory.
*230. Ascension. Ivory.
231. Ascension. MS. B. Museum.
232. Monogram of Christ.
233. Bread inscribed with Cross.
234. TheLabarum.
235. First Coin with Cross.
236. Cross with Alpha and Omega.
237. Cross on Globe. S. Apollinare Nuovo, Ravennn,
238. Cross. MS. Munich.
239. Tau Cross.
240. Equilateral Cross.
241. Latin Cross.
242. Cross of Creation.
243. Cross of the Resurrection.
244. Cross of the Baptist.
245. Greek Cross.
246. Papal Cross.
247. Cross of St. Andrew.
248. Cross of Jerusalem.
249. Irish Cross.
250. Pectoral Cross.
251. Early Pectoral Crucifix.
252. Crucifix of Lothario.
*253. Hohenlohe Siegmaringen Crucifix.
*254. Back of Hohenlohe Siegmaringen Crucifix.
*255. Enamel Crucifix. Hon. R. Curzon.
*256. Agnus Dei. S. Ambrogio, Milan.
257. The Good Shepherd. Ancient Sarcophagus.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME.
258. Procession of the Holy Spirit.
259. The Trinity. Rubens. Munich Gallery.
260. Italian Trinity.
*261. First and Second Person. Belgian MS. Mr. Holford*
*262. Christ in Glory. Belgian MS. Mr. Eolford.
263. Ideal Man of Sorrows. Fra Angelica. Louvre.
264 Pieta. Gaudenzio Ferrari.
*265. Man of Sorrows. A. Dilrer. Dresden.
266. Man of Sorrows. A. Dilrer.
*267. The Mass of St. Gregory. School of Memling.
*268. Christ Enthroned. L. Vivarini. Belle Arti, Venice.
269. Christ Enthroned. Vivarini.
270. The Glorification of the Son. Wohlgemuth.
*271. Infant Christ. M. Reizet. Paris.
272. Infant Christ sleeping on Cross. Francesdiini.
273. Intercession. Hans Baldung Griin.
*274. Christ as Judge. B. Museum.
275. Hand accepting.
276. Hand repulsing.
277. Angels in Last Judgment. Orgagna.
278. Part of Last Judgment. Orgagna.
279. Group from Last Judgment. L. Signorelli.
280. Group from Last Judgment. L. Signorelli.
* 281. Angel crowning the Blessed. L. Signorelli,
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME. XV
•The Agony in the Garden. Miniature. Mr. BoxalVs Speculum, and
Rembrandt etching . . ... to face page 27
The Betrayal of Christ. Van DycL Madrid . . . .42
Christ being unbound from the Column. Luini. Monasterlo Maggiore,
Milan ......... 81
*Christ after the Flagellation. Velasquez. J. Sarnie Lumley, Esq. . 82
The Crowning with Thorns. Luini. Ambrosian Library . . 88
The Ecce Homo. Rembrandt etching . . . . .95
The Ecce Homo. Cigoli. Pitti . . . . . ..98
Elevation of the Cross. Rubens. Munich . '. . . 135
The Crucifixion. Early ivory . . . . . . 144
The Crucifixion with Thieves. Mantegna. Louvre . . .169
Adoration of the Cross. Fra Angelica. S. Marco . . . 189
*Tree of the Cross. Miniature. B. Museum . . . .195
Christ on the Cross. Velasquez, Madrid Gallery, and Van Dyck, Borghese
Gallery, Rome . . . . . .205
The Crucifixion. Gaudenzio Ferrari . . . . .211
Pieta. Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Accademia, Siena .... 229
The Bearing to the Tomb. Mantegna etching . . .'. . 238
Entombment Taddeo Gaddi. Accademia, Florence . . . 246
*The Resurrection. The Maries at the Sepulchre. Early ivory . . 263
Ascension. Giotto. Arena Chapel . . . . .308
Ascension. Perugino. Vatican Gallery . . . . .310
*The Trinity. Memling. Grimani Breviary, Venice , . . 349
The Last Judgment. Fra Angelico. Earl of Dudley . . .414
THE LORD'S PASSION.
WE now approach those consummating scenes of our Saviour's
course which are comprised by theologians and artists under the
designation of The Passion. This word was adopted from the Latin,
and, while meaning suffering in a general sense, has been emphati-
cally applied to the sufferings of our Lord : in the same sense the
Italian term, the ' Compassione della Madonna,' exclusively desig-
nates the Virgin's sympathy with the sufferings of her Son. No
part of the Saviour's history is found so thickly strewn with the
flowers of Art — simple and homely, many of them, in form, but
fragrant with earnest and pathetic feeling. The nature of the
subject sufficiently accounts for this efflorescence, comprising as it
does within a few days the culminating evidences of our Lord's
character and mission, the humility and obedience of His humanity,
the power and triumph of His divinity. Representations of scenes
from the Passion occur in every pictorial history of Christ, but it
is especially as a separate series that they crowd before the eye
from the 13th century. The cause for this will be found in the
impassioned cry to contemplate the sufferings of Christ, which
arose from the founders of the two great Orders of Dominicans and
Franciscans, and which gave an impulse to this class of subjects,
both in dramatic and pictorial Art. The Passion of our Lord,
commencing with the Entry into Jerusalem, and terminating in
the Descent of the Holy Ghost, is known to have been performed
as a kind of play or mystery as early as the 13th century, in diffe-
rent parts of Italy, on the Day of Pentecost. This play continued
to be a popular form of religious entertainment and edification
for centuries in various parts of the Continent, though less traceable
in England, and is still carefully and piously performed in the
VOL. II. B
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Tyrol.1 That the plays and the pictures of the time, both consti-
tuting a part of the same great ecclesiastical system of instruction
and stimulus, should have agreed in treatment of their common
subjects, is natural ; also that they should have materially influ-
enced each other. There is no doubt that these representations
afforded a school, and in many respects a beneficial one, to the
painter; for he here saw costume and action, groups and attitudes,
and, in a general way, expression, which ministered to his own
Art. But the school could only be beneficial as long as the nature
of the source was not apparent in the result. Much, therefore, that
is theatrical and exaggerated in later religious Art may be justly
attributed to inspirations adopted too directly from scenes of this
nature. It is probable, also, that the almost entire neglect of
these subjects, as a series, by the great Italian masters of the 15th
and 16th centuries, may have been owing, with other causes — such
as the more exclusive devotion to the Madonna and the increasing
legends of saints — to the indifference bred by familiarity with these
sacred plays, which formed the stock entertainment of all classes
of society. This is little to be regretted, for there is plenty of
evidence in single scenes from the Passion, treated by the Cinque-
cento painters, how little their modes of conception harmonised
with the sacred character of the subject. It is fortunate, therefore,
that we are able to derive our impressions of the series of the
Passion from the two great masters who mainly head the generations
of Italian Art. Duccio has left us the Passion, in a number of
small pictures, formerly at the back of his colossal Madonna and
Child in the cathedral at Siena. Giotto the same on the frescoed
walls of the Chapel of the Arena, at Padua. Neglect and violence
have gone far to destroy both these series, especially that by Giotto.
Still, as will be seen, enough remains to show that, in a religious
sense, they have never been so truly and worthily conceived. Fra
Angelico has also bequeathed to us a full series of the Passion,
accompanying the history of Christ, and multiplied illustrations of
1 The Play of the Passion (' Das Passionsspiel ') is performed every ten years at Ober-
Ammergau, a village in what are called the Bavarian Highlands of the Tyrol. Here the
traditional rendering of each scene, with its types, is retained, and the close connection
between these religious mysteries, and the Art which is exemplified in the ' Biblia Panpe-
runi,' is demonsti'ated.
See 'Das Passionsspiel zu Ober-Ammergau, von Ludwig Clarus Miinchen, I860,'
THE LORD'S PASSIOX.
single scenes from it. Some of these are unsurpassed in beauty and
piety of conception by anything before or since, while others are not
free from the corruption of Christian Art which had even then
obtained. The Lombard school, which M. Rio rightly eulogises
as that in which a purer spirituality lingered longer than elsewhere,
gives evidence of this quality in its greater devotion to the subjects
of the Passion. No one has embodied some of the events on the road
to Calvary with greater pathos than the sweet painter, Bernardo
Luini.
But it is Gaudenzio Ferrari principally, of the Lombard painters,.-
who has left a complete series of the Passion in his frescoes in the
church at Varallo, and in his coloured terra-cotta groups on the
Sacro Monte of that celebrated place of pilgrimage.
It was reserved, however, especially for the great German artists
of the 15th and 16th centuries to treat these subjects : Martin Schon,
Albert Diirer, Israel von Mechenen, and Lucas van Leyden, are
chiefly known to the world as illustrators of the Passion, in the form
of woodcuts and engravings. Germany, with her princes and
potentates indifferent to Art, and the great mass of the population
always depressed by poverty, gave but few commissions for pictures,
and far less for works on a monumental scale, to her great painters.
They therefore gained their bread chiefly by the exercise of forms
of Art more accessible to a humbler class of patrons. These
etchings and engravings are monuments of skill in knowledge of
drawing, practice of hand, and microscopic power of ejre, and occa-
sionally show indications of deep feeling ; but too often, with the
partial exception of those by Lucas van Leyden, they lower their
subject by a degradation of the Lord's Person, and by a brutality
in those around Him which it is painful to witness. To call
these forms of conception realistic is a misapprehension of
terms. The ideal and the real are not opposed to each other
like a good and an evil principle. True feeling is as proper,
and bad taste as foreign, to the one as to the other. The causes
for the repulsive ugliness which meets us in many of these en-
gravings lay deeper than it is within the scope of this work to
inquire ; but the low and unjoyous physical condition of a poverty-
stricken people under a stern climate may be readily believed
to have given a deeper impress of outward degradation to the
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
period of the decline of the Eoman Catholic Church in Germany
than elsewhere. On the other hand, the circulation of these series
contributed doubtless to that heterogeneous momentum which set
the Reformation in motion. For these engravings spoke the truth,
though only under those debased forms which naturally preceded
the unlocking of the Bible itself.
The series of the Passion properly begins, like the plays, with the
Entry into Jerusalem, and ends with the Descent of the Holy Ghost,
though some painters take up the subject at a later moment, and
close it earlier. The number of designs in these series varies con-
siderably : Duccio has twenty-six ; Albert Diirer, in one of his series,
fifteen ; Holbein, nine. We give a list of those by Duccio : —
1. Entry into Jerusalem.
2. The Last Supper.
3. Washing the Disciples' Feet.
4. Christ's last Address to His Disciples.
5. Judas bargaining for the Pieces of
Silver.
6. Agony in the Garden.
7. The Capture of Christ.
8. Denial of Peter.
9. Christ before Annas.
10. Christ before Caiaphas.
11. Christ mocked.
12. Christ before Pilate.
13. Pilate speaking to the People.
Our object is now to follow these scenes, though not confining
ourselves exclusive!}' to them ; for Art, taken generally, fills up
this sacred course with a far closer gradation of scenes than any
known series would supply.
14. Christ before Herod.
15. Christ again before Pilate.
16. Christ crowned with Thorns.
17. Pilate washing his Hands.
18. The Flagellation.
19. The Road to Calvary.
20. Crucifixion.
21. Descent from Cross.
22. Entombment.
23. Descent into Limbus.
24. The Maries at the Sepulchre.
25. Christ appearing to the Magdalen.
26. Christ at Emmaus.
ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. . .' '
Ital. Nfostro Signore che entra trionfante in Gerusalemme.
Fr. Entree de Jesus h, Jerusalem. Germ. Christ! Eiuzug in Jerusalem.
OUR LORD was now about to enter the gates of Jerusalem with the
acclamations due to Deity, which He was so soon to leave with the
contumely cast only upon a criminal. His entry into Jerusalem is
therefore justly looked upon in Art as His first stage to Calvary,
and, when given at all in the series of the Passion, is always given
first. The Evangelists are all agreed as to the main particulars
of the circumstances of His entry — that it was upon an ass, and
accompanied by a multitude, who cried, ' Blessed is He that
cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest!' All
but John describe the disciples as casting their clothes on the
ass, and the people as spreading their garments in the way. St.
Matthew and St. Mark relate that the people cut down branches,
and ' strawed them in the way.' St. John, that they took
branches of palm trees, and went to meet Him. The only
ambiguity relates to the animal. St. Matthew relates, that when
come unto the Mount of Olives, our Lord sent His disciples,
saying, ' Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye
shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her : loose them and bring
them unto me ' (xxi. 2) ; adding, i All this was done that it might
be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet (Zechariah), saying,
Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold thy King cometh unto thee,
meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt the foalof an ass.' St.
Mark and St. Luke both speak only of a colt, whereon never man
sat, and St. John of a young ass. This variety in the narrative has
left its impress upon early Art, the foal being frequently seen ac-
companying the mother, on which Jesus rides. Thus early artists
embody one literal portion of the text, later painters another, for in
the strong young animal of maturer Art we identify the colt ' where-
on never man sat.' The Entry into Jerusalem is properly always
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
triumphant in character. Jeremy Taylor says, ' The blessed Jesus
had never but two days of triumph in His life — the one His Trans-
figuration, the other this His riding into the Holy City/ It is one
of the subjects of the early Christian cycles, occurring frequently on
sarcophagi in the Catacombs (woodcut, No. 139). Here, with the
economy of materials characteristic of classic Art, seldom more than
one figure is seen spreading the garment; while another behind
represents the disciples, and one bough the branches.1 The foal ts
here a frequent accompaniment, sometimes naively stretching its
139
Entry into Jerusalem. (Sarcophagus.)
little head to smell at the garment or nibble the branch, or, as in
the illustration, trotting like a diminutive war-horse beneath its
parent. The figure here seen in the tree, and in early miniatures,
not engaged in plucking branches, but attentively looking at our
1 According to Brady's Clavis Calendaria, p. 278, note, the yew was substituted in
England for the palm, and the box in Rome. Now the palm-branch is supplied as an
article of trade to the Roman Church in Passion Week. The branches are whitened by
a process of tying up the tree, as may be observed on the South coast of Spain, at Ali-
cante, and Elche, where an unfortunate tree here and there among the noble groves of
palms is seen thus treated like a magnified lettuce.
ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
Lord, suggests the idea of Zacchaeus, who being little of stature
and not able to see Him for the press, ran before and climbed up
into a sycamore tree. This incident occurred, according to St
Luke, who alone mentions it, as our Lord was passing through
Jericho, and before He mounted the ass, when such an elevation
for the purpose of seeing Him would be no longer necessary.
Nevertheless, the system in early Art of giving consecutive
moments in one view warrants this interpretation.
Another variation from the text also is often seen in the small
size of the figures which welcome the Lord. In the Catacombs, and
where the classic feeling maintained its supremacy, this smaller
scale was indicative of moral inferiority, as seen in the representa-
tions of the miracles (vol. i. pp. 351-2) ; but in miniatures, and
other forms of Art, in which a Greek element prevails, the small
figures are intended to represent children. This is in allusion to
the subsequent overthrow of the money-changers, when the children
cried Hosanna in the Temple, and to our Lord's application to that
circumstance of the text from the Psalms (Ps. viii. 2), ' Out of the
mouth of babes and sucklings hast Thou ordained strength.' In the
Greek Church, to this day, the representation of the Entry into
Jerusalem is thronged with children.
In early Art the position of our Saviour on the ass varies much.
As in the illustration from the Cata-
combs, He is often seen seated astride,
and with His right profile to the spec-
tator. But a sideways position is also
frequent, and is the type usually found
in the earliest MSS. On these occa-
sions our Lord usually sits with both
feet to the spectator. Instances may
be seen when both are turned from
him. In each case His face is in
profile. Also there is an ancient form
where our Saviour is seated full front 140
to the spectator,- as if on a chair
Entry into Jerusalem.
(Early miniature. D'Agincourt, pi. ciii.)
of state, one hand raised in benediction, the other holding a scroll
— l Benedictus qui venit in nomine,' &c. — < Blessed is he that cometh
in the name of the Lord.' This small quaint illustration (No.
.HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
140) l is a specimen. Here there are no reins to the animal,
which, strange to say, is going at full gallop, both fore-feet in the
air, threatening to overset the figure on his knees spreading the
garment. The little foal is again here. On the gates of St. Paolo-
fuori-le-Mura, executed at Constantinople in the llth century, and
destroyed by fire in 1823, our Saviour also sits full front like one
enthroned. The sideways position continues comparatively late in
Art — we shall see it in an illustration by Gaddo Gaddi — and,
tradition has retained it in the curious Passionsspiel, still acted in
the Tyrol (see p. 2).
In a miniature of the 6th century, from the Gospels of St. Augus-
tine and St. Cuthbert, our Lord has a whip in His right hand,
raised to strike the animal. To say nothing of the improper
character of this action, it prevents the gesture of benediction.
It may be considered as a rule in Art that our Lord is riding from
left to right of the picture— a position evidently calculated better
to show the right hand with which He is invariably blessing.
Nevertheless, exceptions, as in the woodcut above, occur to this.
On the bronze gates of S. Zeno at Verona, our Lord is seen coming
from the right, with His left side to the spectator. No ruder ex-
ample can be well cited. Here, in the total ignorance of perspective,
the figures are placed one above the other, like objects on a table.
The head of the figure who holds the garment being lower than the
ass's hoofs, so that instead of stooping to the act, he is stretching
his arms upwards. Here the branches held by the figures are those
of palms — which also occur in early MSS. — traceable, probably,
to the usage of the Greek Church, which had no difficulty in pro-
curing them. There are instances of Christ Himself bearing a
palm-branch as He sits on the animal ; one occurs in a painted
window at Bourges. This is doubtless connected with the fact, that
in the Greek Church Palm Sunday is called the Sunday of the
palm-bearer. In some rare instances the Saviour is represented
with a book in His hand.2
The garments spread in the way have also their variations accord-
ing to the period. In the Art of the Catacombs, which was com-
paratively real in detail, though typical in meaning, a real garment —
the tunic of antiquity — is being spread; a figure is even seen
1 D'Agiocourt. 2 British Museum, MS. Tiberius. C. IV.
ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
in the act of stripping his outer garment over his head ; and, in
later Art, the real garment of the day is given and the same
dramatic action repeated. But the intervening centuries were
not so literal. In a miniature at Brussels, quoted before, the ass
is walking over three layers of drapery, red, blue, and yellow.
In the MS. in the British Museum, just quoted, the idea of honour
rendered is increased by a long breadth of gorgeous brocade, spread
under the ass's feet.
As regards the clothes cast by the disciples upon the animal's
back to form a seat for their Lord, Art has by no means adhered to
the letter of Scripture. In the illustration from the Catacombs, as
we have seen, regular trappings are given to the animals. In other
instances our Lord sits on the ass's bare back ; while there are not
wanting some in which He occupies a high Eastern saddle.
Duccio's representation of the Entry1 — the first subject in the
series, mentioned p. 4 — is the first which breaks through the limits
of early treatment. No conception of the subject at any time has
been more picturesque and animated. The number of figures which
throng through the gate to meet our Lord give the effect of a
crowd, while the trees seen above a wall, skirting the road, are beset
by eager numbers, to whom others, who have climbed aloft, are
throwing down branches. Here the greater part of the multitude
are small and unbearded, and therefore intended for children. This
is quite in harmony with the Byzantine forms which constituted the
groundwork of Duccio's original conceptions. Our Lord here sits
easily upon the ass ; His action, in this respect perhaps, varying
with the habits of the painter. Fra Angelico, the gentle Dominican
monk, who may be supposed to have known but little of the science
of horsemanship, even on so lowly an animal, makes the Saviour, in
his series (formerly on the doors of the press in the Chapel of the
Nunziata, now in the Accademia at Florence), with projected feet
and tight-drawn reins, like one truly unused to such a seat. Whilst
Taddeo Gaddi (born 1300), in our illustration (No. 141, over leaf),
from a drawing in the British Museum, leaves the Lord free from
any thought of His position, with the reins fallen on the patient
animal's neck, as if, amid all the human treachery and infirmity
which environ Him, He is, at all events, sure that her faithful feet
1 See plate in Kugler'a Handbook of Italian Schools. Vol. i. p. 115.
VOL. II. C
,10
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
141
Entry into Jerusalem. (Drawing. Taddeo Gaddi.)'
will not play Him false. Here, as we see, the sideways position is
retained. Giacomo Bellini has it also in his volume of drawings in
the British Museum. Tintoretto's almost ruined great picture of the
Crucifixion, in the Scuola di S. Rocco at Venice, follows the ass
farther in its possible history. Whilst He who had so lately been
the object of popular acclamation hangs dying on the Cross, an ass,
as the author of ' Modern Painters ' has observed, points a moral by
innocently grazing on the old trodden-down palm-branches, which
alone testify to the course of His evanescent triumph.
It may be observed, that there is a tradition which still con-
nects the. ass with the Entry into Jerusalem, though it has failed
to gain consideration towards the i oppressed race ; ' namely, that
the dark line down the animal's back and across the forequarters,
forming the shape of a Latin cross, was the heritage of the race
from that day.1
As Art progressed, the subject became more exclusively pictur-
esque. Gaudenzio Ferrari gives little expression to our Lord, and a
1 For an account of the honour done to the ass by the Church in the triple character
of the animal which Balaam rode, which carried the Virgin and Child into Egypt, and
on which Christ entered Jerusalem, see Hone on 'Ancient Mysteries,' p. 160.
ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. 11
very disagreeable one to the vicious, backward-bent ears of the
animal ; but he turns to good account the haste to procure branches,
the feet of one figure who is reaching up the tree being propped on
the hands of another.
Poussin has treated it with great picturesqueness, the scene being
laid in an open country with Jerusalem on one side, and a grove of
palms on the other, up and down the step-like stems of which
figures are hurrying.
Still, except as part of a series (and seldom even as such with the
German and Flemish artists), the Entry has not been popular with
mature or later Art, and though offering great opportunities, both
for landscape and architecture, to the realistic painters of the
Netherlands, has not, even in that subordinate sense, been treated
nearly so often as the flight into Egypt.
We majr add, that in some illustrated Bibles the prophet Zecha-
riah is represented with this subject in the background, in reference
to his prophecy.
The Entry into Jerusalem is understood in the scheme of Christian
Art as comprising the Weeping over the City.1 St. Luke says,
4 As He drew near the city' (it may be supposed still on the ass),
1 He wept over it.' The conception of that scene as a separate
incident is an instance of modern Protestant interpretation.
Our Lord entered Jerusalem thus riding on an ass on the first
day of the Jewish week — kept in the Anglican Church under the
title of Palm Sunday ; in the Greek Church, as the Sunday of the
Palm-bearer ; and in the Syrian and Egyptian Churches as Hosanna
Sunday.
1 At the same time the weeping of Christ over Jerusalem is given in more elaborate
series, such as the ' Speculum Salvationia, ' by a type from the Old Testament, namely,
b.v the prophet Jeremiah lamenting the destruction of the city.
12 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET.
Jtal. Cristo che lava i Piedi agli Apostoli. Fr. La Sainte Ablution.
Germ,. Die Fusswaschung.
THE washing of the disciples' feet by the hands of the Lord occurs
between the eating of the Paschal Lamb and the institution of the
Last Supper. < When the Holy Jesus had finished His last Mosaic
rite, He descends to give example of the first-fruits of evangelical
grace.'1
It was the custom in the East to wash the feet of honoured
guests before a meal ; and besides giving them thus the example of
His great humility, it is believed that our Lord designedly timed
this act as one of symbolical purification before the institution of
that Spiritual Supper which was His last bequest. St. John is the
only evangelist who mentions this incident. He relates that Christ
having risen from supper, l and laid aside His garments, took a
towel, and girded Himself. After that He poured water into a
bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with
the towel wherewith He was girded. Then cometh He to Simon
Peter .... Peter saith unto Him, Thou shalt never wash my
feet. Jesus answered, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with
me. Simon Peter saith, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands
and my head ' (John xiii. 4, &c.)
This is the moment which is always chosen. Some writers assert
that our Lord denuded Himself of all except the cloth with which
He was girded. Art has, however, adopted the more becoming and
probable view, and our Lord is always seen fully draped.
Two opposite principles were gathered from the subject of the
Washing of the Disciples' Feet, according to different periods.
When the Church was young, it served as an encouragement of
faith ; in later times, as a repression of pride. We find the subject,
therefore, in the first sense, on a sarcophagus in the Catacombs,
1 Jeremy Taylor's Life of Christ.
CHRIST WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET.
though but one instance of it occurs. After that it may be looked
upon as the sign of that humility which is supposed to be ex-
clusively Christian, being perpetuated as such, not only in the form
of Art, but as an annual observance in the Roman Church, where
the Pope, as most of our readers know, washes the previously
perfectly cleansed feet of twelve poor men on Maundy-Thursday.
The chief variations in the representation of this subject consist
in the position of our Lord, who is depicted as successively stand-
142
Christ washing Disciples' Feet. (Ancient sarcophagus.)
ing, stooping, and kneeling for His act of self-abasement. The
standing position is that which the reference of the earliest Art
chose. This necessitated a corresponding elevation in the position
of St. Peter. Both these features appear in the representation from
a sarcophagus found in the Catacombs, where Peter sits on a raised
platform, and our Lord stands before him with a cloth attached
round His neck, obviously long enough for the purpose intended
(woodcut, No. 142).
The moment chosen is another source of variety in the subject,
14 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
and is equally significant of more or less reverence in treatment.
Our Lord is here not engaged in the act, though the mind is satis-
fied that He will be so in another moment. This elevated attitude
on the part of Peter, and the consequent standing or only stooping
position on that of Christ, is seen also in early manuscripts, but the
moment is less reverential. Our Lord, with a cloth in His hand,
and another hanging on the wall behind Him, is in the act of wiping
one of Peter's feet, who sits with an air of consternation, one hand
to his head, on a platform, with the other Apostles ranged all full
front on the same. Thus it is evident that the Lord can pass easily
along the line.1
As our Lord's figure bends lower to His humble task, other
agencies are resorted to by the artist to counteract the appearance
of degradation. Even angelic ministration, as in the Baptism,
was called in. A manuscript of the llth century,2 shows our
Lord on one knee, but an angel from heaven is descending to bring
Him the towel. * Thus showing,' as said by Dr. Waagen,8 6 in
the strongest light, the humility of Him whom even the angels
serve.'
The figure of Peter also undergoes change with time. In early
works he either holds up one hand or both, as deprecating such
an honour, or he points with his right hand to his head. This may
be interpreted either as an Oriental salutation of humility, or as an
express reference to the words, ' not my feet only, but my hands
and my head.' He is also sometimes given with his hands crossed
reverentially on his breast.
It was believed by the early commentators on Scripture, that
Judas' feet were washed first, our Lord having commenced with him
and not with Peter. The words of John favour the belief that Peter
was not the first thus honoured. ' After that He poured water into a
bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet .... Then cometh
He to Peter.' His words, too, to the chief of the Apostles after the
ceremony, i And ye are clean, but not all,' may imply that one was
already washed, who could, nevertheless, not be made clean. Art
has not lost sight of this inference ; and where we see a disciple
already tying on his sandals, as in our next woodcut, while our Lord
1 D'Agincourt, pi. civ. 2 British Museum, Biblia Cottou. Tiberias, C. VI.
* Treasures of Art, vol. i. p. 144.
CHRIST WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET.
15
is in the act of washing Peter's feet, the figure is meant for that of
Judas. Oftener, however, the traitor is seen with a b.ag of money
in the background, in the act of departing.
It is obvious that when Art ventured on a bond fide representatiorj
of the scene, with our Lord kneeling on the floor before His dis-
ciples, the utmost refinement of feeling was requisite to counteract
Christ washing Disciplea* Feet. (Giotto. Arena Chapel.)
what might appear as a profane reversal of the order of things.
Giotto's fresco in the Arena Chapel is the first large and important
representation of this subject (woodcut, No. 143). He has seized the
moment which gives dignity to the Saviour and raises 'Him above
His office. The Master, it is true, is on one knee before His servant,
holding one of the feet which He is about to immerse in the water,
but His head is uplifted, His other hand raised ;, He is speaking,
16
HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
inculcating the humility they are to imitate, and thus bringing the
doctrine more before our minds than the act. His head is full of
energetic grandeur. Two young Apostles, St. John and another,
the first carrying a pitcher of water, and thus, by this act of service,
helping to elevate the office of Christ, look like attendant angels.
A fully-bearded and long-haired figure (red hair in the fresco) in
144
Christ washing Disciples' Feet. (Pra Angelica)
the foreground, tying on his sandals, is, as we have said, doubtless
intended for Judas.
But of all the painters who expressed the condescension of the
Lord by the impression it produced upon those to whom it was sent,
Fra Angelico stands foremost in beauty of feeling (woodcut, No. 144).
Not only the hands, but the feet of poor shocked Peter protest
against his Master's condescension. It is a contest for humility
CHRIST WASHING THE DISCIPLES' FEET. 17
between the two ; but our Lord is more than humble, He is lowly
and mighty too. He is on His knees ; but His two outstretched
hands, so lovingly offered, begging to be accepted, go beyond the
mere incident, as Art and Poetry of this class always do, and link
themselves typically with the whole gracious scheme of Redemp-
tion. True Christian Art, even if Theology were silent, would, like
the very stones, cry out, and proclaim how every act of our Lord's
course refers to one supreme idea.
Unfortunately such refinement of feeling did not long accompany
this subject, and we are shocked by treatment even of an opposite
character. It will hardly be believed that in various manuscripts
of the 14th century, and in several engravings of a later date, one
or two of the disciples are seen with large knives in hand, coolly
relieving their feet of some inconvenient encumbrances. A picture,
too, in the Ambrosian Library at Milan, falsely called ' Perino del
Vaga,' repeats this action with variations, while Judas looks on
with undisguised contempt.
At best, in the few representations of the subject by masters of
the mature time of Art, all we see is one figure kneeling, wiping
the feet of another, who neither lifts up his hands nor points to his
head, but, as in Gaudenzio Ferrari's fresco at Varallo, seems only
to think of so holding his drapery that it should not be wetted
in the operation, while the disciples around are pulling off their
stockings.
VOL. II.
18 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE LAST SUPPER.
Ital La Cena, Fr. La Cene. Germ. Das Abendmahl.
THE importance of the Last Supper in the history of Christian
doctrine rendered it an early subject in Art. Though it does not
appear in the Catacombs, it is seen in religious subjects as early as
the beginning of the llth century. It appears, for instance, in
the retablo, supposed to have been executed by Greek artists for the
Emperor Otho III. out of the gold plates taken from the throne of
Charlemagne. This, and the miniatures of the same time,1 give a
semicircular table, the straight side being next the spectator, with
the Saviour seated at the end on the left. St. John, who does not
lean on His breast, sits with the other Apostles round the semicircle.
Judas alone stands or sits in the centre in front, receiving from our
Lord the sop. Thus early Art has chosen the moment at which the
Lord points out His betrayer. This incident descended in many
instances to maturer times, and even when the giving of the sop is
not represented, Judas is placed alone in front, as in the Last
Supper by Giotto, and in the fresco discovered in the refectory of
S. Onofrio at Florence, now generally attributed to Pinturicchio.
In another respect, later Art has departed, and not to its advantage,
from the early traditions of the subject. For the figure of St. John,
leaning on the shoulder of Christ, and sometimes fallen forward on
his Master's lap, which is stereotyped from the 14th century, has
too often the double defect of being disrespectful and unpicturesque.
This incident is given with most exaggeration in the Northern
schools. The Last Supper, however, is less frequently treated in
later times. It was considered, probably, and with justice, as too
distinct and important a subject, embodying rather the solemn
institution of a Sacrament than an event in the hurried tragedy of
the last days of our Lord's life, and fitted, therefore, to be the centre,
and not merely a portion, of a pictorial system. Its necessary form
i For example, MS. with ivory cover, A.D. 1014, in Munich Library.
THE LAST SUPPER. 19
of composition also disqualified it from occupying the same space
which sufficed for scenes of more usual proportions. Nor could it
well be brought into the same category with the Supper at Emmaus.
These reasons account for our seldom finding the subject in the
series of representations which illustrate the Passion and Death of
our Lord.
We now proceed to consider the Last Supper in the only sense
which Mrs. Jameson has not anticipated; for we must remind
the reader that the Last Supper, both historically and devotionally,
finds place, from its connection with the history of the Apostles,
and especially with that of Judas, in her ' Sacred and Legendary
Art ' (see vol. i. p. 260). The subject, indeed, in all its bearings,
its naive traditions (in the sense of Art) and archaeological lore,
has been exhausted by her able pen ; excepting in one respect,
— for, with the project of the present work always kept in view,
she abstained from all critical investigation of the office which
Art has performed towards the principal Personage in this scene.
It remains, therefore, for us to consider the Person of our Lord
as given in the representations of the Last Supper, and we
approach it necessarily, as will be shown, through those of His
companions.
We take up her remarks on the difficulty of rendering this scene
anything more than a mere symmetrical convention, from the
number of the figures, and the monotonous and commonplace
character, materially speaking, of their occupation. Considered
merely in the sense of Art, we may say that there was too little
in the nature of the subject for so many figures, all men, to do.-
Eleven out of the twelve were to be represented devout, earnest,
and faithful, and Judas even decorous in demeanour. Many of
them, too, were of the same age, most of them attired in the same
kind of costume; while the introduction of their attributes was
altogether incompatible with the occasion. Thus, the distinction
of one Apostle from another strikes us at the very outset as a
difficulty, which, in the case of sculpture, as in the cathedral at
Lodi, or of wood-carving, as in Adam Kraft's work in the Church
of St. Lawrence at Nuremberg, is further increased by the absence
of colour. This was doubtless the reason, in early times, for the in-
sertion of the names in the glories, and, perhaps, for the exaggerated
20 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
nature of the position of St. John, and of the character of Judas,
which seem to have been seized upon as the only salient points.
The discrimination of the characters and individualities of all, or
even most of these passive and almost uniform figures, required,
therefore, nothing short of the utmost refinement of observation
and power of expression. These conditions, it is obvious, could
only be fulfilled by a mind and hand of the highest order.
But here another difficulty presented itself. The Apostles, after
all, were but the subordinates in the piece ; such expression and
character as could at best be given them depended entirely on the
part which belonged to the principal actor. In representing Him,
the artist had to choose between two modes of conception, each
equally encumbered with objections. Our Lord might be depicted,
as He has often been, in the act of blessing the bread and wine,
and with His hand raised in prayer — an action full of grace for
Him, and which clearly conveyed His part in the story to the com-
prehension of the beholder, but one which, occupying Him alone,
left His companions little more than lay figures; or our Lord might
be represented as engaged in no actual act at all, but simply in
the character of one uttering, or having just uttered, a few words
expressive of deep and mournful mental conviction. But such a
moment, however easily described in words, is not so easily painted.
These words, however full of meaning for the mind, offer none to
the eye (for the giving the sop of Judas, a very unpleasing incident
in the sense of Art, which, in the difficulty of telling the tale, was
frequently resorted to in early works, belonged to another and
later moment). Moreover, our Lord did not address these words
to one Apostle more than another, still less to anyone out of the pic-
ture. Nay, words spoken thus, in the deep abstraction of prophetic
vision, would have produced the same effect on the hearer had the
speaker been even invisible. And yet those words were indis-
pensable to rouse all these lay figures into appropriate, though
requisitely minute, indications of individual character. It was
plain, therefore, that only he who could paint the ' troubled spirit'
of Jesus as it breathed forth the plaintive sentence, ' Verily, verily,
I say unto you, one of you shall betray me,' would have the power
to touch that spring which alone could set the rest of the delicate
machinery in motion.
THE LAST SUPPER. 21
We need not say who did fulfil these conditions, nor whose Last
Supper it is — all ruined and defaced as it may be — which alone
rouses the heart of the spectator as effectually as that incomparable
shadow in the centre has roused the feelings of the dim forms on
each side of Him. Leonardo da Vinci's Cena, to all who consider
this grand subject through the medium of Art, is the Last Supper
— there is no other. Various representations exist, and by the
highest names in Art, but they do not touch the subtle spring.
Compared with this chef-d'oeuvre, their Last Suppers are mere
exhibitions of well-drawn, draped, or coloured figures, in studiously
varied attitudes, which excite no emotion beyond the admiration
due to these qualities. It is no wonder that Leonardo should have
done little or nothing more after the execution, in his forty-sixth
year, of that stupendous picture. It was not in man not to be
fastidious, who had such an unapproachable standard of his own
powers perpetually standing in his path.
Let us now consider this figure of Christ more closely.
It is not sufficient to say that our Lord has just uttered this sen-
tence ; we must endeavour to define in what, in His own Person,
the visible proof of His having spoken consists. The painter has
cast the eyes down — an action which generally detracts from the ex-
pression of a face. Here, however, no such loss is felt. The outward
sight, it is true, is in abeyance, but the intensest sense of inward
vision has taken its place. Our Lord is looking into Himself — that
self which knew ' all things,' and therefore needed not to lift His
mortal lids to ascertain what effect His words had produced. The
honest indignation of the Apostles, the visible perturbation of the
traitor, are each right in their place, and for the looker on, but they
are nothing to Him. Thus here at once the highest power and re-
finement of Art is shown, by the conversion of what in most hands
would have been an insipidity into the means of expression best
suited to the moment. The inclination of the head, and the expres-
sion of every feature, all contribute to the same intention. This is
not the heaviness or even the repose of previous silence. On the
contrary, the head has not yet risen, nor the muscles of the face sub-
sided from the act of mournful speech. It is just that evanescent
moment which all true painters yearn to catch, and which few but
painters are wont to observe — when the tones have ceased, but the
22 HISTORY OF ODR LORD.
lips are not sealed — when, for an instant, the face repeats to the eye
what the voice has said to the ear. No one who has studied that
head can doubt that our Lord has just spoken ; the sounds are not
there, but they have not travelled far into space.
Much, too, in the general speech of this head is owing to the
skill with which, while conveying one particular idea, the painter
has suggested no other. Beautiful as the face is, there is no other
beauty but that which ministers to this end. We know not whether
the head be handsome or picturesque, masculine or feminine in
type — whether the eye be liquid, the cheeks ruddy, the hair smooth,
or the beard curling — as we know with such painful certainty in
other representations. All we feel is, that the wave of one intense
meaning has passed over the whole countenance, and left its im-
press alike on every part. Sorrow is the predominant expression
— that sorrow which, as we have said in our Introduction, dis-
tinguishes the Christian's God, and which binds Him, by a sympathy
no fabled deity ever claimed, with the fallen and suffering race of
Adam — His very words have given Himself more pain than they
have to His hearers, and a pain He cannot expend in protestations
as they do, for for this, as for every other act of His life, came He
into the world.
But we must not linger with the face alone ; no hands ever did
such intellectual service as those which lie spread on that table.
They, too, have just fallen into that position — one so full of meaning
to us, and so unconsciously assumed by Him — and they will retain
it no longer than the eye which is down and the head which is sunk.
A special intention on the painter's part may be surmised in the
opposite action of each hand ; the palm of the one so graciously and
bountifully open to all who are weary and heavy laden, the other
averted, yet not closed, as if deprecating its own symbolic office.
Or we may consider their position as applicable to this particular
scene only ; the one hand saying, l Of those that Thou hast given
me none is lost,' and the other, which lies near Judas, ' except the
son of perdition.' Or, again, we may give a still narrower defi-
nition, and interpret this averted hand as directing the eye, in some
sort, to the hand of Judas which lies nearest it, ' Behold, the hand
of him that betrayeth me is with me on the table.' Not that the
science of Christian iconography has been adopted here, for the
THE LAST SUPPER. 23
welcoming and condemning functions of the respective hands have
been reversed — in reference, probably, to Judas, who sits on our
Lord's right. Or we may give up attributing symbolic intentions
of any kind to the painter — a source of pleasure to the spectator
more often justifiable than justified — and simply give him credit
for having, by his own exquisite feeling alone, so placed the hands
as to make them thus minister to a variety of suggestions. Either
way these grand and pathetic members stand as pre-eminent as the
head in the pictorial history of our Lord, having seldom been
equalled in beauty of form, and never in power of speech.
Thus much has been said upon this figure of our Lord, because
no other representation approaches so near the ideal of His Person.
Time, ignorance, and violence have done their worst upon it, but
it may be doubted whether it ever suggested more overpowering-
feelings than in its present battered and defaced condition, scarcely
now to be called a picture, but a fitter emblem of Him who was
' despised and rejected of men.'
24 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN.
Ital. L' Orazione nell' Orto. Fr. J&jus au Jardin des Olives.
Germ. Christus am Oelberge.
THE rapid passage of events in those last days brings us now to a
scene which Art is bound to approach with more than usual reve-
rence. For being one which the eyes of men were not permitted
to witness, it became known to the Christian world by direct
inspiration. The Scriptures tell us, on more than one occasion,
of our Lord's retiring from the sight of men ; but, except in two
instances, they do not enfold to us what befell Him when alone.
The first instance was the temptation, when angels came and
ministered to Him after the conflict was over ; the second was the
Agony in the Garden, when an angel was sent to sustain Him,
even during the struggle.
The Last Supper was over, and all that last discourse of tender-
ness, and promise, and farewell. Judas was gone on his errand,
and there remained but brief space for that approaching agony of
mind and body, only possible to be produced by the combined
divine capacity and human extremity of anguish. The history of
this incident is gathered from three of the Gospels. Matthew,
Mark, and Luke relate the event, and they divide it amongst them.
Matthew and Mark describe the Lord's sorrow and sore amaze-
ment, and His praying three times, and thrice returning to His
sleeping disciples. St. Luke alone tells of the agony and bloody
sweat, and of the angel who appeared from heaven strengthening
Him. All three agree almost verbatim in the words of that prayer,
and in the simile of the cup, in which our Lord expressed it.
Jesus, we read, went forth over the brook Cedron, where was a
garden He had often visited with His disciples. And coming to a
place called Gethsemane, ' He saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here,
whilst I go and pray yonder. And He took with him Peter and the
two sons of Zebedee ' — the same three who had witnessed the Trans-
figuration— ' and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 25
He unto them, My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death :
tarry ye here, and watch with me ' (Matt. xxvi. 36-38). 6 And He
was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down
and prayed, saying, Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from
me: nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done. And there ap-
peared an angel unto Him from heaven strengthening Him. And
being in an agony He prayed more earnestly : and His sweat was as
it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground ' (Luke xxii.
41-44).
The early Fathers assign the two sentences of this prayer to the'
two natures of our Lord. As man, He begged to have the cup pass
from Him ; as God, He submitted Himself to His Father's will.
St. Leo says, ; The first petition proceeded from infirmity ; the
second from righteousness.'
This is one of the most solemn scenes which the New Testament
offers to a painter. The mixed human and divine nature of Christ
breaking forth into a passion of suffering ; the divine messenger
hastening to His side, or already ministering unto Him ; the
solitude arid darkness of the night ; the sleeping men ; the flowing
brook ; the distant city ; and the approaching traitor and his band.
These latter materials, in which the picturesque more particularly
lies, have been in some measure done justice to; but a short survey
will show that the main idea, the solemn fact itself, embodied in
our Lord's Person and in that of the angel, has been unaccountably
neglected and perverted.
The Agony in the Garden is hardly seen on the stage of Art
before that time — often alluded to here — when the great Italian
preachers had raised up before the minds of their hearers vivid
pictures of our Saviour's sufferings. It is probably first seen in the
13th century, and then under forms of great reverence and simpli-
city. The great facts to be conveyed were the Lord's prayer and
the divine answer to it. How that answer was conveyed was not
deemed so important to show as the higher fact of whence it pro-
ceeded. Thus, in lieu of the angelic messenger, it is not unusual
to seethe hand of the Father, or even the head of the First Person,
appearing from a cloud, in token of assistance to the afflicted Son
Occasionally also, in ivories of the 14th century, not three disciples
only, but all eleven, lie asleep around the kneeling figure of Christ,
VOL. n. E
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
like a flock of sheep — the Shepherd soon to be smitten, and the
sheep scattered.
Sometimes even these innocent solecisms gave way to a literal
rendering of the text, as seen in our illustration (No. 145), from a
Greco-Latin miniature of the 13th century taken from D'Agincourt,
pi. xcvi. Here the angel stands close to our Lord — the staff, the
145
The Agony in the Garden. (Early Greek miniature. D'Aginconrt.)
true symbol of support, in his hand — where the outstretched arms
of the Sufferer show the need for it. The lower compartment of
this miniature gives the intervening moment, when, coming to His
disciples, He finds them sleeping.
Occasionally, also, the Agony in the Garden is imaged forth by
the sole figure of our Lord, as in our etching from Mr. Boxall's
Italian Speculum of the 14th century. Here nothing further than
the ideas of suffering, prayer, and heavenly succour are given, the
scroll in the hands of the angel being meant to convey the words
fe
'•-
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 27
of comfort of which he is the bearer. These were the naive con-
ceptions of early times ; but as Art improved, the treatment of
this subject declined, both in arrangement and intention. Let us
examine, first, the lesser and comparatively unimportant error of
arrangement.
There is that broad and natural variety in the events of our
Saviour's life, each with a character of its own, which especially
fits them as materials for that Art which is intended to be read
as we run. The eye in this subject needs but to see the figure
of Christ alone, under the temple of heaven, prostrate in prayer,
to recognise ' the Agony.' There is no other occasion in His
life that can be confounded with this. Our Lord's Person, there-
fore, is the prominent feature; all others are but accessories.
Nevertheless, the prevailing type of this subject takes the eye
> by surprise, by placing, not the Saviour, but the three figures
of the disciples in the most prominent place. There they sit or
lie in front — St. Peter usually on the left hand, known by the
sword, to be drawn in the next scene, in his hand, and St. John
in the centre; while in the middle distance, or even in the
extreme background, is discerned the diminished and subordinate
figure of Christ in prayer.. This is a strange misapprehension;
it is as if our office as spectators concerned the disciples, not the
Lord, and that the object of the painter was rather to impress
us with the infirmity of man than with the sufferings of Deity.
Nor does Art itself plead any excuse ; on the contrary, the
figures of three sleeping men, all doubled up with drowsiness,
directly in front, are a dead weight that would swamp the interest
of any composition.
Thus the opportunity for the highest efforts of religious Art, that
of rising to the expression of the divine countenance seen under
such touching conditions, has been upon the whole disregarded.
This may be called the error of arrangement — that of intention
is infinitely worse. It need hardly be observed, to the reader who
has thought at all on these subjects, that the attempt to render a
figure of speech through the medium of any form of Art addressed
only to the eye, must be always unsuccessful in interest, and often
false in meaning. A metaphor in words becomes a reality in
representation. Such a metaphor our Lord employed in the prayer
28 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
that this cup might pass from Him. The cup, we know, is a frequent
figure in the allegorical language of Scripture. There is the
6 cup of wrath,' and the ' cup of salvation,' and there is, emphati-
cally, ' my cup,' of which Christ says that all His followers shall
indeed drink ; the very anticipation of which now caused Him such
anguish of mind and body. But every Christian believes, without
over-anxious searching, the simple words of Scripture, ' an angel
appeared unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him.' The angelic
messenger's office, too, is more defined in the Latin version, where
the word ' confortans ' indicates strength and comfort too. What,
then, has the cup to do in his hand ? For no casuistry can convert
the signs of suffering, to one fainting under the consciousness of its
approach, into the symbol of strength. It is difficult to imagine
what confusion of ideas can have led to such an anomaly. In such
solemn scenes, known, as we have said before, only by revelation,
all frivolous conceits of a painter are sternly interdicted, for the
real is the ideal, and vice versd. Here the mockery of the cup
in the very hand to which only the ministry of comfort was
appointed, is a direct subversion of the truth, invalidating both
the supplication and the interposition : it is difficult to conceive
that the prayer has been for bread, where a stone is sent in
answer.
The absurdities into which this form of misconception branched
were innumerable. In some pictures by the grandest Italian
masters — for instance, in Mantegna's Agony in the Garden, in Mr.
Baring's gallery — the false idea is further developed by the absence
of the angel and the substitution of a whole row of little angioletti,
who present all the instruments of the Passion, the Cross, the
column, &c., together.
Nor was Poussin, in the 17th century, less ingenious in this
false direction. The master who was punctilious as to probabilities
of costume and position — making his figures in the Last Supper
recline upon couches — gave no thought to the real features of the
scene we are considering. His angel, it is true, is sustaining the
fainting Lord, but the eyes of the winged messenger are fixed with
childish glee on a swarm of little cherubs, who occupy two-thirds
of the picture, holding aloft, as in mockery of the Sufferer, every
object that has the remotest connection with the approaching
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN.
29
ordeal — from the Cross, column, and ladder, they can barely lift,
to the money, the dice, and the mailed hand of the High Priest's
servant, who was to strike the Divine Victim.
Often, too, the angel alone is the bearer of all the instruments of
the Passion he can possibly sustain — an idea the more unseemly
146
The Agony in the Garden. (Gaudenzio Ferrari.)
when we remember that the archangel Michael was the messenger
believed to have been here sent to Christ, and who is thus seen
reeling beneath these heterogeneous encumbrances, to the sacrifice
of all dignity as much as of all truth. In the ' Bedford Missal,' in
the Agony in the Garden, the Almighty Himself appears above,
30 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
showing Christ a crucifix.1 Or we see, as in our illustration from
Gaudenzio Ferrari (No. 146), the angel bearing the cup which
contains a miniature cross.
This last conception is a connecting link to a far more- serious
perversion. From the negative contradiction of the words of
Scripture Art proceeds to superadd grave and positive heresy.
Having punned, as senselessly as irreverently, on a metaphorical
expression, she next seizes upon a synonym of the same, and
wrests from it still profaner conclusions. For the word given as
6 cup ' in the English Bible is in the Latin Missal rendered as
4 chalice.' This seems the only solution for the conception of this
solemn subject which shocks the Protestant eye in numerous
pictures of the best times of Art. The cup in the hand of the
angel is no longer the false symbol of suffering, but the profaner
representation of the Eucharistic chalice with the sacramental
wafer in it, which is being offered by the angel to the suffering
Jesus. This is not the place for controversial argument; at the
same time there are few so utterly ignorant of the leading
doctrines of all Christian Churches as not to perceive the profane
confusion of fact and idea thus implied. Not a tenet of our faith
remains secure under the casuistry of such a conceit. Nay, the
very Divinity of Christ falls before it; for who but man — and man
as sinner — needs to partake of that just instituted cup of His Body
and Blood ?
Thus the simplicity of Art and of the Gospel stand or fall to-
gether. The literal narrative of the Agony in the Garden lost sight
of, all became confusion and error. So deeply rooted was the
heretical idea of our Lord's having on this occasion received the
Sacrament, that in many a fresco and picture of the 14th century
the angel is seen bringing the cup and wafer in the corporate or
cloth with which, a Roman priest always holds the sacred elements.
Raphael himself, in his picture, formerly in Mr. Rogers' possession,2
places our Lord kneeling upright, and with folded hands, before the
bearer of the cup, exactly in the position of a communicant. If the
truth were known, many an unlearned spectator has taken this
i Waagen. Treasures of Art, vol. i. p. 129.
* Now in that of Miss Burdett Coutts.
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 31
conception of the Agony in the Garden for our Lord confessing His
sins and receiving absolution before His death.
Another form that ma)' be mentioned suppresses the angel alto-
gether, and places the cup only with the wafer, all resplendent with
radiance within it, upon a ledge of rock, or some elevation, while
Christ kneels in apparent adoration before it. This is seen in
Albert Diirer, and other German masters.
At the same time, among the pictures thus marred in a religious
sense, are works of the highest possible beauty. Some of the
greatest masters have treated this subject. Mantegna's picture,
already mentioned, is a chef-d'oeuvre of magnificent drawing
and drapery, and quaint detail of landscape, architecture, and
animals. His disciples all lie in soundest slumber, thus depart-
ing from the established type which, derived probably from our
Lord's words to those left at the entrance of the garden, < Sit
ye here,' makes the three who were to watch during His prayer
sit also.
Perugino's large picture in the Accademia at Florence represents
another school. Bellini, too, is seen in this subject. It is impos-
sible to forget a picture ascribed to him, formerly belonging to
Mr. Davenport Bromley, now in the National Gallery. Here the
solitary landscape and solemn twilight give that indescribable
' grace of a day that is gone ' so peculiarly in harmony with the
kneeling figure.
This still pathos of nature is also remarkable in a picture by
Basaiti, in the Venetian Belle Arti, where the fading light and the
leafless trees seem to point to a new morrow and a new summer.
Here the disciples sleep full in the foreground, in the form of a
pyramid, of which one, full length on his back, forms the base.
Christ is on an elevation behind, where the painter seems instinc-
tively to have felt the anomaly of placing Him, and therefore gives
Him another form of prominence by the force of the figure against
the twilight sky. This is a devotional picture, with saints on each
side. The lamp is a quaint device to show its destination upon
an altar.
Michael Angelo's design for the Agony in the Garden has cer-
tainly not sinned in the way we condemn. There is neither cup
nor even angel, and our Lord is as clumsily conspicuous as His
32 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
massive disciples, who sit like solid sacks of sleep. Nevertheless, it
is difficult to conceive anything less solemn or sublime than the
great old Florentine's version of this scene.
It is corroborative of the conclusions to which we have endea-
voured to lead the reader that the most true, and therefore, in a
religious sense, the finest representations of the Agony in the
Garden, are by what are called realistic painters. Among the
Italians, Correggio stands foremost; his well-known picture in
Apsley House — of which there is a good copy in the National
Gallery — though famed for the painter's special quality of chiaro-
scuro, is equally remarkable for the way in which the story is told.
Here the Christ, though not of elevated character, is, at all events,
the principal Person, while the grand angel who shines upon Him
from the very edge of the picture has no false auxiliary which
breaks the promise both to heart and eye.
In Paul Veronese's picture, too, in Mr. Baring's gallery, and in
others of the same subject by this gorgeous realistic painter, the
help of the angel, though over-material in character, is thoroughly
genuine.
Albert Diirer has always all the faults of arrangement and mean-
ing we have condemned ; but his figure of our Lord throwing up
His arms with the action of wild despair is terribly grand.
But beyond every other master in conveying the reality of this
subject to the eye, and that with the slightest means, may be
mentioned that marvellous utterer of the noblest emotions under
Dutch forms. Rembrandt's little etching of the subject, of which
we have given a fac-simile (p. 26), is almost an agony to look on.
Those crooked lines and apparently accidental blurs all find their
only point of sight in the very depths of the spectator's heart.
All convention is banished here, and all propriety that may be
banished. Our overburthened Lord shuts His eyes and wrings
His hands, and, in the conflict of mind and body, taxes the bodily
strength of the angel on one knee before Him — a creature, it is
true, with nothing angelic but his wings, and the intense sincerity
of his beneficent purpose. Here, too, Rembrandt has introduced
all proper accessories, and in their proper places. The three dis-
ciples lie sleeping on the receding slope of the hill. Jerusalem is
indicated above, overshadowed with symbolically heavy clouds,
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 33
through which the moon is breaking, while a troop passing through
a gateway, expressed in the fewest possible lines, show who it is
that is approaching.
Nor must we forget another painter, but lately taken from his
work — Ary SchefFer — whose conception of this scene alone would
preserve his name. In his picture the expression of ajony seems
to burst forth at every pore, as did those drops of sweat, while the
mploring, failing hands are such as only an angel from heaven can
fitly sustain.
Thus, in this subject the reality and reverence of the Protestant
painters have proved the truest interpreters ; and, whether Catholic
or Protestant, Reality hand in hand with Reverence can alone
unlock the deeper powers of Art.
We may mention, that both in Italian and German Art, whether
sculpture, painting, or miniature, the scene of the Agony is laid
within an enclosure either of palings or what is now called ' wattled
fence.' This occurs so constantly as to show some purpose —
probably that of designating, according to European notions, the
locality of a garden.
A few words upon another point. The words in Scripture are,
6 And His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling on the
ground.' This is generally interpreted by the early commentators
not as real blood, but as drops like unto drops of blood in size.
Art, therefore, has only introduced the actual Bloody Sweat in
early and homely forms, such as miniatures of Byzantine origin,
and coloured German woodcuts — of which the British Museum
furnishes examples — where the crimson drops are seen falling from
Christ's Person. It may be remarked, too, that the fervour of the
Middle Ages converted the purple robe into a symbol of that sup-
posed bloody exudation.
.VOL. II.
34 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE BETRAYAL.
ItaL La Presa, or La Cattura nell' Orto. Span. El Prendimiento.
Fr. La Prise de Je'sus-Christ. Germ. Die Gefangennehmung Christi.
THE Betrayal of our Lord may well be placed by Art immediately
next to or under the Agony in the Garden. The language of the
Gospel is almost identical in each Evangelist : ' While Jesus yet
spake,' or, ' immediately while He yet spake, came Judas' — showing
that no respite was granted between those quickly shifting scenes.
The fact of the capture of Christ by means of the treachery of Judas
is mentioned in all four Gospels. The kiss of Judas, by Matthew,
Mark, and Luke ; the going backwards and falling to the ground of
the guards, on our Lord saying f I am He,' by John only. Peter's
drawing the sword, and cutting off the servant's ear, by all. The
miracle by which the man was healed, only by Luke ; the forsaking
Him, and flight of all the disciples, by Matthew and Mark ; the
escape of ( a certain young man, having a linen cloth about his
naked body,' only by Mark.
These are the incidents gathered thus piecemeal from the several
narratives, every one of which has found illustration in Art.
No one can study this story without having a vivid picture
before the mind's eye. Nowhere is the contrast between our Lord
and His enemies, and even His friends, more strongly seen. The
kiss of those false lips has only elicited a remark more of sorrow
than reproach : ' Judas ! betrayest thou the Son of man with a
kiss ? ' The natural violence of one of His disciples in His defence
is instantly repaired by a beneficent miracle. Our Lord re-
asseverates the words, 4 1 am He,' the better to favour the desertion
of His own friends : < If therefore ye seek me, let these go their
way.' And all these staves and swords and torches are brandished
to capture one who, in the selfsame moment, discloses a divinity
in His very Person which levels them to the ground, and yet, in
every act and word, a calm readiness to surrender Himself into
their hands.
THE BETRAYAL.
The scene is thus crowded with more than Art can express at
once ; for, looking broadly at the recital, there are two separate
ideas — that of treachery in the kiss given by Judas, ' one of the
twelve,' and that of supernatural power in the effect of those few
small words, ' I am He ' — c an answer so gentle, yet which had in it
a strength greater than the Eastern wind, or the voice of thunder ;
for God was in that still voice, and it struck them down to the
ground.'1
Both these ideas were adopted by Art ; that view of the Betrayal
which is given by the prostrate guards being, from its greater reve-
rence, adopted first. For early Art never lost sight of the funda-
mental conditions on which every event in our Lord's course on
earth, and especially of this portion of it, was based, namely, the
voluntary nature of all His acts. In the true sense this was a sur-
render, not a capture, for Jesus knew { all things that should come
upon Him.'
The prostration of the troop is almost an anomaly when seen in
Art, for the guards seem at this moment to be the captured and
betrayed, not our Lord. The probably earliest example of this
subject embodies, however, neither of these ideas. It forms one ot
the small compartments of the bronze doors of St. Zeno at Verona,
and is a simple, rude composition ; our Lord between two figures,
who each hold Him by the hand, and two figures with flambeaux
behind Him.
Generally the prostration of the guards is given in a very simple
fashion. A few figures with weapons, and often in armour, are lying
flat on the ground in parallel lines, whilst our Lord stands erect
above them, the image of calm power. The incident of St. Peter
and Malchus does not belong here. Thus the scene is represented
in miniatures, and in the * Speculum Salvationis,' where each recum-
bent figure has a casque, or covering of some kind on his head,
except one, intended, it is believed, for Judas, who had involuntarily
bared himself, as the fashion of the day led the artist to believe, at
the sight of his Master, for he also, as Scripture says, ' stood with
them,' and, it may be supposed, fell with them.
Fra Angelico is the only master of note who has given this view
1 Quotation from Nonnus' ' Paraphrase of Gospel of St. John,' given in Jeremy Taylor's
'Life of Christ.'
36
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of the Betrayal in his series now in the Accademia at Florence ; he,
however, combines it with the kiss of Judas. We give an illustration
from this picture (No. 147).
The other version of the subject of the Betrayal, the kiss of Judas
147
The Kiss of Judas, and Prostration of the Guards, (Fra Angelico.)
only, abounds in ivories and miniatures, and, where its fellow-subject
scarcety appears at all, in all serial works of the Passion. As the
signal for all that was to follow — the date of that moment when 6 the
prince of this world was come, who had no part in Him — this in-
cident could never be omitted. In ivories and other works, where
the space is limited, not more than twice two figures are given —
Christ and Judas, Peter and the servant ; one the idea of treachery,
the other of the miracle. A simple and effective conception pre-
vails ; Judas is drawing our Lord to him, or enfolding Him in his
arms. The Saviour is generally looking earnestly and sorrowfully
at him. Peter has a choice of attitudes. He is either in the act oi
cutting off the ear — sometimes, in spite of the express words of Scrip-
THE BETRAYAL. 37
ture, the left ear, the servant standing quite still for the occasion ; or
he is sheathing his sword, long enough to have spitted an ox, with
an air of satisfaction, and the man is lying crying on the ground.
Often the union of the two groups is effected in a touching manner,
for in the same moment that Judas betrays with a kiss, our Lord's
hand is extended in the act of healing the ear. In ivories * of
Northern origin, of the 14th century, our Lord has the severed ear in
His hand, and is stooping down to restore it to its place. An old
German woodcut, in the British Museum, rude and coloured, dated
1457, carries on the story with great naivete, for the miracle is ac-
complished, and the man, though still on the ground, is feeling his
restored ear with manifest astonishment. Generally Peter, in the
early examples, is standing and preserving a certain equanimity ;
but in a Greek miniature, engraved by D'Agincourt, the impetuous
Apostle has got the man under him, and is kneeling with both
knees on his back.
It may be observed in the Betrayal, that Judas is often repre-
sented as shorter than our Lord. This may appear a natural
arrangement to enhance the prominence of the principal figure.
The ' Revelations of St. Brigitta,' however, doubtless influenced
Art in this respect. The fervent saint, quoting the words of
the Blessed Virgin, whom she reports to have closely interro-
gated on the point, says : ' My Son, as His betrayer approached
Him, inclined Himself to him, because Judas was of short stature.'
Judas is sometimes seen, as already said, enfolding the Saviour
in his arms — an action almost more treacherous than the kiss.
It was supposed that he was apprehensive that by the exercise
of supernatural power our Lord might even at the last moment
elude their grasp. Hence his words, given here in italics, ' whom-
soever I shall kiss, that same is He, hold Him fast? And again,
6 take Him and lead Him away safely? Thence also the embrace
according to Art which promoted this end, by, in most cases,
fettering our Lord's arms.
This is seen in Giotto's fresco in the Arena Chapel at Padua,
which though too much injured to be represented here, gives the
full historical event with all the vehement action which was that
great master's characteristic. Judas has here both his arms round
1 See one in Arundel Society.
38 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
his Master ; the action helping to render his ungainly figure still
uglier, for the drapery is pulled tight over his back as it follows the
hands round our Lord's neck, who is thus almost concealed in the
coils of this serpent. Angry soldiers — a sea of heads — some hel-
meted, some bare, stand around, brandishing clubs, battle-axes,
spears, lanterns, and flambeaux, which latter glare full on the
mild head of Jesus, looking earnestly into Judas's face. One
figure raises a horn to his lips, and gives evidently a livety blast,
probably to inform fresh cohorts that the Lamb whom so many
armed butchers were sent to capture is safe in their hands. In the
front, on the right, is some important Jewish functionary in the
wildest excitement. On the left is St. Peter, in eager action, with
his knife promptly used, for the ear already hangs detached from
the head, while an Elder, with a hood over his head, is clutching
at Peter with unmistakably pugnacious intentions. So violent is
the scene, with the knife out, blood flowing, and dangerous wea-
pons in fierce hands, that nothing, humanly speaking, can possibly
prevent murder. But with the next moment the scene was to
change — the Victim was willing, His friends too happy to quit the
field, and the only wound that had been inflicted healed.
Well does George Herbert — that poet of the Passion — illustrate
in his turn such pictures as these : —
Arise ! arise ! they come. Look how they run !
Alas ! what haste they make to be undone ;
How with their lanterns do they seek the sun.
Was ever grief like mine ?
With clubs and staves they seek me as a thief,
Who am the way of truth, the true relief,
Most true to those who are my greatest grief.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Judas ! dost thou betray me with a kiss ?
Canst thou find hell about my lips, and miss
Of life, just at the gates of life and bliss?
Was ever grief like mine ?
See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands
Of faith, but fury ; yet, at their command,
I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands.
Was ever grief like mine ?
THE BETRAYAL.
39
All my disciples fly ! Fear put a bar
Betwixt my friends and me ; they leave the star
Which brought the Wise Men from the East from far.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Very rarely do we see the fact, ' all my disciples fly,' commemo-
rated in Art. Duccio, throughout faithful to the letter of Scripture
— the key to the simple sublimity of his compositions — has a
remarkable picture of the Betrayal in his series. Here the disciples
148
The Betrayal. (Duccio. Siena.)
are fleeing like frightened sheep on one side, whilst Judas is in the
act of kissing the Lord, who is serenely intent on restoring the
wounded servant — the right hand being raised in benediction for
that purpose. This is one of the most dignified, as it is the most
complete, representation of the scene. We give an illustration
(No. 148).
Now that the subject of the Betrayal, under the form of the Kiss
of Judas, was fairly in the handn of known and great masters, it
becomes interesting to note how one particular and objectionable
feature was overcome. The violence used to our Lord's sacred
40 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Person in this incident, though in some sort understood in the
Scriptures, is not described. It is simply said, 'And they laid
their hands on Him, and took Him ; ' or, according to St. John,
6 And the captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus and bound
Him.' Art is here put upon her resources to avoid offending the
eye of reverence. The scene must be rude, and the only safety lay
in dwelling, as in the Scripture narrative, on that dignity and
gentleness of our Lord which acts both in a hallowing and
contrasting sense. The mild effulgence of Christ's Person is
sufficient to counterbalance the necessarily rough elements of
infuriated Jews and stern Pagan soldiery. Where this idea is not
duly developed the eye is sure to be offended. There were three
moments in the scene open to the painter's choice — Judas ap-
proaching to betray with a kiss ; in the act of so betraying ; and
having already betrayed Him. The first of these, Judas approaching,
is the form most fitted to spare the spectator the sight of blas-
phemous outrage. This preparatory moment is generally preferred
by the nameless artists of early ivories and miniatures, and by
Italian painters ; but the engraved series of the German masters of
the 15th and 16th centuries generally show one of the two later
moments. Martin Schon represents Judas as leaving the scene,
bag in hand, already a prey to remorse ; the malignant despair
of his face being artfully increased by the curved end of a soldier's
helmet, which projects like a horn from behind his forehead. Christ
is therefore already in the hands of the rabble — for such the German
and Flemish artists of this time always made 'the troop' — the rope
over His head, His hands bound, one wretch pulling Him by the
hair, and another dragging up His robe, till His bare feet and ankles
are exposed. But our Lord's divine head, or rather the intention of
it, overcomes in great measure even so barbarous a conception. He
is not heeding His captors, or His bound hands — self is forgotten
in pity for another — the wounded servant is the object of His
earnest gaze, and in another moment, by the mere exercise of divine
volition, we feel that the healing miracle will ensue. Thus a great
master may choose what seems a difficulty, and turn it into the
evidence of triumphant power. This shows who it is that those
brutified and caricatured figures have in their grasp, more strikingly
than if He had stretched forth His hands to work the miracle.
THE BETRAYAL. 41
Not so did Albert Diirer conceive, who, sometimes most sublime
of all German masters in sacred subjects, sinks here and elsewhere
into the lowest perversion of truth and taste. In his large wood-
cut of the subject, the spectator is left uncertain whether the
treacherous sign agreed upon has been given. A fierce masculine
head, with grand curling hair, belonging to a figure holding a bag,
is close to the Saviour. But the artist betrays the Lord as well ;
for he depicts Him with upraised head appealing to Heaven against
the outrage, and resisting it with all His might. His left foot is
planted convulsively on the ground before Him, and He is throw-
ing His whole weight backwards from two figures ; the one drag-
ging Him by the neck of His garment, the other by a rope round
His waist. At the same time a Roman soldier is tying His hands
behind Him. This is a highly offensive representation, simply
because untrue to our Lord's character.
Two other plates by Albert Diirer of the same subject are scarcely
better : in both Judas is in the act of kissing the Lord with pro-
truded lips ; thus in great measure hiding the face, the expression
of which can alone redeem the scene.
But the very lowest conception of the subject appears in a design
purporting to be by Poussin, but more probably by the hand of his
scholar, Stella, by whom is a series of the Passion, all equally
reprehensible. The garden is here occupied by a mere rabble rout,
in the midst of which is our Lord screaming with terror, and with
both His arms extended — an action as improbable in one just
captured as it is unbecoming when applied here to Christ. Not
only does His state of excitement, but also the distance to which
the crowd have dragged Him, preclude all possibility of His heal-
ing the servant, who, with his lantern under him, lies under Peter's
drawn sword with his ear still untouched.
It is a relief to turn to a picture with beauties of expression
seldom found in the sumptuousness of later Art. There were rich
elements in this night subject for gorgeous lighting and colour to
attract Van Dyck, and his picture of El Prendimiento at Madrid
is one of his chefs-d'oeuvre. (We give an etching.) Judas is here
only approaching, going as if uphill to his prey. He has taken
our Lord's right hand, which lies passive in his, and is treading
with one foot on the Saviour's drapery, partially fallen off, as if the
VOL. ir. G
42 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
more to detain Him. Other fierce hands are on our Lord's left
shoulder, while two brawny arms behind are lifting the sacrilegious
rope just ready to be thrown over His head. A strong figure,
following close on Judas, has another rope. Figures of brutal
strength hold flambeaux, and one in armour glares fiercely in the
night. St. Peter has knocked his man down, who is screaming
under him, with his lantern overturned, and the candle burning on
the ground. Thick trees, illumined with the glare, are above the
group, and an owl, just roused, is about to take its heavy flight.
The moon, a waning crescent, < on her back,' is more poetical than
true, for during the Paschal week the moon was at the full. The
whole scene has a dark and treacherous character, the lines of the
picture all leading up in violent action to one pale face in the
centre — the only face not distorted by rage or cunning — radiant,
tranquil, and loving —
The ever fixed mark
Which looks on tempests and is never shaken.
Van Dyck, however, painted another picture of this subject, an
engraving of which exists, which contrasts painfully with that we
have described — also by torchlight.
The incident of St. Peter and Malchus is an invariable accom-
paniment of this subject; sometimes occupying too prominent a
part in the foreground. The struggle between the two figures is
not always so decorous as might be desired. The man is sometimes
on his back, kicking the chief Apostle, like the evil one over-
powered, though the comparison cannot be extended to rough
Peter and the Archangel. There was, perhaps, a tradition in the
loth century of the servant having carried a lantern, for from
about that time it is always introduced and seen fallen with him to
the ground. In a manuscript in the Brussels Library, executed
for Jean de Berry, in honour of his wife Ursigne, where the rebus
of Ours and Cygne is perpetually recurring, there is a miniature of
the Betrayal, in which the prostrate servant is catching hold of the
robe of Judas to save him : a touch of bitter satire, on the painter's
part, on the blindness which could thus appeal to the sinking
sinner, with the Ark of refuge standing by. In ivories of the 14th
century the servant is sometimes seen with a club.
THE BETRAYAL. 43
In these German series of etchings or woodcuts, and in pictures,
especially of the Flemish school, the figure of the young man
fleeing, and throwing off his garment before a pursuing soldier, is
sometimes seen in the background. This figure is also given
by Correggio. Tradition, fond of finding a name for every actor,
however subordinate in these scenes, affixed that of St. John the
Evangelist to the young man, and modern writers, including our
own Jeremy Taylor, adopt this as a fact. But there seems no
evidence to prove it, though the reasons advanced by St. Ambrose
and St. Gregory in opposition, that St. John cannot be supposed
to have worn a loose garment over his naked person, are not very
conclusive. At all events, Art has not adhered to the letter of
Scripture, for, except by Correggio, a tight-fitting under-garment is
always given.
By some, this figure was supposed to represent the keeper of the
garden, who, roused from sleep by the outrage going on within its
precincts, had taken flight. The Italian writers, adopting this
conclusion, have named the fleeing figure rortolano.
44 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST BROUGHT BEFORE ANNAS.
Ital, Cristo avanti Anna. Fr. Jdsus devant Anne.
THERE are few artists who have ventured to lift the veil which the
Scriptures have spread over the incidents that befell our Lord be-
tween the period of His betrayal and His appearance before the
High Priest. It is too probable that the passage from G-ethsemane
to the palace of the functionary was the scene of blasphemous out-
rage towards the Lamb of God, for, as Jeremy Taylor says, i it is
certain that His captors wanted no malice, and now no power, for
the Lord had given Himself into their hands.' There were tra-
ditions, too, of violence used by the ruder soldiers as they recrossed
the little brook Cedron with their prey, a prophetic allusion to
which is supposed to be found in the Psalm, 'He shall drink of the
brook by the way.' It is, however, to the credit of Art seldom to
have attempted to fill up this undescribed interval. It is true that
among the bas-reliefs on early Christian sarcophagi, which give us,
in repeated forms, the chief miracles and events of Christ's life,
with the events from the Old Testament which typify them, there
occurs on more than one occasion a figure led between two others,
which has been sometimes interpreted as that of our Lord on His
way to the tribunal, sometimes as St. Peter being taken before
Herod. At all events, nothing more than the indication of the
subject is given in such early Art. And the same may be said of
Fra Angelico, who gives the time after Judas has disappeared, in
the series now in the Accademia. But Fra Angelico ran no risk of
shocking our feelings of reverence. His captors of our Lord, if not
lambs, are very, gentle wolves, and the scene little more than a
pious fiction. It is only the attempt at reality, which occurs at a
later time, which is reprehensible. In this sense it appears in a
work at the National Museum at Munich, consisting of fifty rude
German miniatures in one frame, representing the whole life of our
Lord, where He is shown falling under circumstances of violence in
the brook itself. Holbein appears, however, to be the greatest
CHRIST BROUGHT BEFORE ANNAS. 45
delinquent in this respect, having represented the passage of this
stream in an engraving of which it is said that c his hand must have
trembled while it gave form to an invention as novel as it was cruel,
barbarous, and diabolical.' * Albert Diirer also has approached
far too near this forbidden subject. In his series called the Little
Passion, we see Annas, or Caiaphas, seated in the distance, while
our Lord, in the foreground, is dragged along, evidently up steps,
by His hair as well as by the rope ; His hands tied behind Him,
His form bent double, His head hidden by His position and by the
disordered hair, and with all the expression of a figure which will
fall to the ground the next moment.
To represent the sacred Person of our Lord succumbing beneath
degrading treatment, is not endurable to a reverent eye, even in
scenes which commemorate His known sufferings, and, on occasions
where Scripture is silent, utterly unjustifiable. We can never too
often impress upon our readers that Art is bound, as the very first
condition of her service, to show respect to the Person of our Lord,
by rendering its dignity paramount to -every outrage to which He
subjected Himself. To endeavour to assume the position of a looker-
on at the time, is the fallacy, as we have observed in the Introduc-
tion, by which many an artist of no elevation of character has erred.
Such a position, however true in the light of a fact then, has never
been true in any light since. To us Christ, in every circumstance
of His life, is the Lord of heaven and earth, and nothing less. To
depict Him under the loftiest and benignest of forms, while in the
act of being bruised, wounded, despised, and rejected, is the only
mode of conveying that religious lesson which is meant to melt and
humble the heart. It is only by the comparison of His sufferings
with His divine nature, that the tremendous spectacle of His Cross
and Passion can reach our perceptions. Associate these sufferings
with a mean and degraded 'figure, or exaggerate them so as to hide
all the character of Him who endures them, and they immediately
lose their solemn effect on the mind. For where Christ is made
but a suffering and persecuted man, humanity looks on with pity,
sometimes with disgust, but never with humble and penitent awe.
We may be sure that upon this very passage, our Lord, however
outraged, still bore the impress of a power which could have sum-
1 Zani, vol. vii. p. 186.
46 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
moned twelve legions of angels to His rescue. And our great
requirement from Art in the ensuing terrible scenes is, that she
should always remind us of that great declaration in the 10th
chapter of St. John : < ISTo man taketh my life from me, but I lay
it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have
power to take it again.'
The Gospels vary with all the unconsciousness of truth in the
recital of our Lord's appearances before the various tribunals, but all
agree in compressing the passage from Gethsemane into such words
as these : ' And they led Jesus away to the High Priest ; ' or, < they
that had hold of Him led Him away to Caiaphas ; ' l Then they took
Him and led Him, and brought Him unto the High Priest's house.'
Even the Old Testament, in its prophecies, gives the same decorous
character to this part of the Passion : ' He was led as a lamb to the
slaughter.' It is nowhere said that He was dragged there. And,
finally, St. John, more circumstantially: ' Then the band of the
captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus, and bound Him, and led
Him away to Annas first ; for he was father-in-law to Caiaphas,
which was the High Priest that same year.' St. John is the only
Evangelist who mentions Annas. St. Luke, the only one who
describes our Lord's appearance before Herod, and His two appear-
ances before Pilate. St. John alone gives the incident of Caiaphas
tearing his robe, and of the officer who struck Jesus in his presence.
St. Matthew alone tells how Pilate's wife came to him and said,
6 Have thou nothing to do with that just man,' &c. ; and, also, the
fact of Pilate's washing his hands. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all
describe the outrage our Lord suffered at the hands of the Jewish
council and of their servants when they blindfolded Him. Matthew,
Mark, and John, that which He endured from the soldiers of the
governor when they pressed the crown of thorns upon His head.
St. Luke alone says that Jesus was mocked by Herod and his
captains, who put upon Him < a gorgeous robe.' All the Evangelists
relate that Pilate delivered Him to be scourged ; but St. John alone
that Pilate brought Him forth to the people wearing the purple
robe and the crown of thorns, and said, ' Behold the man.'
These, therefore, are the scenes of which Art has to avail herself
in representing incidents of such partial similitude as our Lord's
five distinct appearances before authorities — before Annas, Caia-
CHRIST BROUGHT BEFORE ANNAS. 47
phas, Pilate, Herod, and Pilate again — and His three different
outrages, known in scholastic phraseology under the appellation of
' The Three Mockings,' successively by Caiaphas, by Herod, and
before Pilate. Under these circumstances, it is not surprising
that confusion should have arisen, and that these various events
should be misnamed and frequently shuffled into a wrong order of
succession ; also, that few artists should have attempted the whole
series at all. Duccio in this respect stands alone, and also in the
nicety of discrimination, and in the carrying on of the same coun-
tenances and characters, like as in the shifting scenes of a play,
whence, doubtless, his ideas were derived. Duccio commences with
Christ before Annas ; according to St. John's words, ' Then the
band and the captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus, and
bound Him, and led Him away to Annas first ' (xviii. 12, 13). The
master has here introduced the incident of the servant raising his
hand to strike the Lord, which properly belongs to the appearance
of Christ before Caiaphas. But a slight ambiguity in the Scrip-
ture narrative excuses this mistake, for the fact is related, and
with it the mild remonstrance of Jesus that ensued ; and then St.
John adds, ' Now Annas had sent Him bound unto Caiaphas, the
high priest* (v. 24). Strictly speaking, the scene before Annas
has no identifying action for an artist's use, and is therefore
scarcely ever delineated.
48 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS.
1 Now Caiaphas was he, which gave counsel to the Jews that it was
expedient that one man should die for the people ' (John xviii. 14).
On this account Dante has placed him in hell, ' fixed to a cross
with three stakes on the ground ' (Canto xxiii.) : —
That pierced spirit, whom intent
Thou view'st, was he who gave the Pharisees
Counsel, that it were fitting that one man
Should suffer for the people. He doth lie
Transverse ; nor any passes, but him first
Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.
In straits like this along the foss are placed
The father of his consort (Annas), and the rest
Partakers in that counsel, seed of ill
And sorrow to the Jews.
This is usually the first tribunal rendered in Art, as most expres-
sive of evil towards our Lord, Caiaphas having thus stirred up
the people. It is finely treated by Duccio, who makes the High
Priest tearing his robe — the identifying action — with a hypo-
critical expression of horror, which is repeated by a number of
hoary-headed Jews around and behind him. But a still finer con-
ception of this scene is that by Giotto in the Arena Chapel, of
which we give an illustration (No. 149). Here we see two func-
tionaries occupying the seat of justice. This, doubtless, arose from
the mention by St. Luke of Annas and his son-in-law, Caiaphas,
as being High Priests conjointly ; which, however, applies to the
appearance of John the Baptist, seven years earlier. There was,
however, much early controversy as to whether Annas did not
occupy the position of vicar, and continue to reside in the same
palace. At all events, the idea of the conjoint high -priesthood is seen
in Art as early as the llth century, when it appears on the brass
doors of the cathedral at Benevento,1 and in early miniatures, and
was thence adopted by Giotto in his grand fresco. The moment here
1 Ciampini.
CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS.
149
Christ before Caiaphas and Annas. (Giotto. Arena Chapel. )
chosen is when Caiaphas has adjured Christ by the living God to say
whether He be the Son of God. To which Jesus answered in the
affirmative, adding the prophecy that they shall see Him as the Son
of man — or, in His human figure — sitting on the right hand of power,
and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then Caiaphas rends his
clothes, and says, ' He hath spoken blasphemy ; what further need
have we of witnesses ? ' Caiaphas, therefore, is tearing open his robe,
and showing his bare chest, while an officer lifts his hand to strike
Jesus with the palm. But the figure of Jesus Himself is the true test
of a great master's power of conception. Here our Lord is neither
meekly facing His accuser, nor looking at His smiter ; He is neither
strong in innocence, angelic in forgiveness, nor, as the Northern
schools too often made Him, borne down with degradation, but He is
VOL. n. H
50 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
in the position of one erect, noble, and especially unconscious, who
is looking beyond all earthly things, as He gazes into futurity and
utters this prophecy. By these means Giotto has raised our Lord
above the scene — He is in it, but not of it ; and thus the closest ad-
herence to Scripture has resulted in one of the loftiest conceptions of
the scene that Art had rendered. Two moments are here combined,
the action of Caiaphas and that of the officer, which other artists have
separated. As regards the individual who committed the outrage
of striking the Saviour, tradition — which always busied itself in
naming, connecting, and touching up all anonymous persons or
unexplained incidents in Scripture — has identified him with that
Malchus, the servant of the High Priest, whose ear Jesus had just
healed, thus transforming the man into a kind of minor Judas.
The German artists in their series have, therefore, generally made
this figure bearing the same lantern which invariably escapes
from his hand at Peter's onslaught. Giotto, however, seems to
have disdai ned this spurious interpretation, for the individual
about to strike Christ is, by his dress, evidently an officer of some
importance. The presence of the two false witnesses is also a
distinguishing sign of the hall of the High Priest. This is seen
in rude early forms, as on the bronze doors of S. Zeno at Verona,
where the group is limited to a person on a throne, the figure of
our Lord, and two men in speaking gestures. Rude as is this
representation, it suffices to prove that the Art of the South, even
at that undeveloped period, gave evidence of its elevation of
feeling in one respect. Any violence towards the Person of
our Lord was out of the power of an Art not sufficiently advanced to
grapple with lively action. The stiff decorum of the scene, there-
fore, does not go for much. But one point was left to their own
feeling. The Scriptures, namely, say nothing of how Christ was
bound, and in the freedom of choice thus left, the artists of the
South preferred the more reverent mode of binding His bauds
in front; many of those of the North, the greater degradation
of pinioning His hands behind.1 It is obvious, however, that
this point was one of no light importance to an artist. The hands
of Christ as He stands before these tribunals — all bound as they
1 One probable cause ior this arrangement is that S. Buenaventura describes our Lord
with His hands bound behind Him. English translation, p. 215.
CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS.
51
are — the touch of which was life, health, and spiritual blessing —
appeal to the feelings with a power only second to His countenance.
There is another reason, too, for our seeing the hands, which is
L50
Christ before Caiaphas. (Gaudenzio Ferrari.)
that, in most early forms, the right hand, though bound, is still
blessing — as if that action flowed from Him by a humane necessity.
With His hands tied behind Him, whether seated, standing, or
dragged along, no man could well look dignified. This was an
52 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
instance where an artist could either give or deny himself the
materials for maintaining the dignity of the principal figure. By
the 16th century, even in Italy, and still earlier in the North, we
find this tribute of reverence already sacrificed, and the pinioning
the hands behind adopted.
Gaudenzio Ferrari, in his Christ before Caiaphas (not before
Herod, as the Italian commentators call it), has bound the hands
of Christ behind Him. The sense, however, is exquisitely rendered,
and sufficiently distinct from Giotto to warrant another illustration
(No. 150). He concentrates the interest upon the incident of the
blow. Here it is evidently a furious servant who has just dealt it,
while our Lord turns to him with an expression of which nothing
can exceed the angelic gentleness.
THE MOCKING OF CHRIST. 53
THE MOCKING BEFORE CAIAPHAS, AND THE DENIAL OF OUR LORD
BY PETER.
Ital. Nostro Signore beffeggiato e schernito. Fr. Je"sus outrage* par les Juifs, et le
Renieraent de St. Pierre. Germ. Die Verspottung Christi.
THE first of the so-called Three Mockings follow in Holy Writ close
after the declaration of the High Priest that our Lord had spoken
blasphemy. Step by step the outrages of His captors increase in
malice and cruelty. Having become their prey. He was now to be
their sport, as, finally, their victim. There can be no doubt that
Caiaphas, with the elders of the people, had departed from the hall,
leaving our Lord, during the night, at the mercy of the soldiers and
servants who had assisted at His betrayal. It was His character of
a Prophet that at this time most wounded the pride of the Jews.
It was but on the first day of that same week that the multitude
had hailed Him with loud hosannas as the Prophet of Nazareth.
On the same day Jesus had prophesied the destruction of the city,
and denounced the chief Jews as the children of them who slew the
prophets ; bidding them, in prophetic vision, to fill up the measure
of their fathers' crimes. And now, those here present had just
heard the seemingly helpless Prisoner in their hands declaring the
glory that awaited Himself. This last act may be supposed to
have given them the immediate cue to the kind of derision in which
they were to take their wretched pastime. St. Mark tells the tale
thus : — ' And some began to spit on Him and to cover His face,
and to buffet Him, and to say unto Him, Prophesy: and the
servants did strike Him with the palms of their hands ' (xiv. 65).
St. Luke says, l And the men that held Jesus mocked Him, and
smote Him. And when they had blindfolded Him, they struck
Him on the face, and asked Him, saying, Prophesy, who is it that
smote Thee?' (xxii. 63, 64). St. Matthew omits all mention of
the blinding, though he implies it by narrating the same usage and
taunts. St. John does not describe this mocking at all.
In the earliest conceptions of this scene, found scattered in
MSS., the artists seem to have preferred the omission of the blind-
54
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
ing, justified by St. Matthew's account, as leaving the divine
countenance free, and thus aiding the simple idea of the lofty
superiority of the Incarnate Word to the malice of His tormentors,
who, on the classic principle, are made much smaller than Himself.
Thus, also, that sense of the voluntary sacrifice is preserved, which
is the chief truth required by the Christian spectator at the hands
of Art. We give an instance (No.
151), from the initial letter E,
heading an Exultet of the 13th
century, in the collection of the
ancient choral books in the ' Lyceo
Musicale ' at Bologna. In other
early versions Christ is seated as
on a throne, with book and sceptre,
in regal dignity, while His tor-
mentors seem to ply their vile oc-
cupation unheeded by Him. Such
a conception is seen in one of the
ancient silver-gilt plates preserved
in the Treasury at Aix-la-Chapelle,
and believed to be of the llth cen-
tury (No. 152).1 In all these early
conceptions, the sense of reverence
in the artist and of dignity in the
Lord are the chief features.
In later Art the scene is gene-
rally given in an historical sense,
as a part of a series, where the mind may be supposed to be in
some measure prepared for so terrible a sight. We are not
aware of any master having found pleasure in it as a separate
theme.
The scene is variously introduced : sometimes in the background
of Christ's appearance before Caiaphas; sometimes in Caiaphas' pre-
sence ; in other examples dividing the space with the Denial of the
Saviour by Peter — always in a large hall. The variety consists in
the more or less exaggerated brutality of the mockers, who too often
1 Casts of these and of many remarkable ivories may be seen and purchased at Herr
Leer's, 37 Stolk Gasse, Cologne.
The Mocking of Christ.
(Miniature. Bologna.)
TEE MOCKING OF CHRIST.
55
152 The Mocking oi' Christ. (Silver-gilt plates. Cathedral, Aix-la-Chapelle.)
transgress the needful decorum of Art. In the often-quoted ' Bible
Historiee ' at Paris, among the various modes of insult and annoy-
ance, a squirt is being used. Albert Diirer
also gives a figure blowing a horn close to
the Saviour's ear.
Also the mode of covering our Lord's
face is significant of time and school. The
covering the whole face, according to St.
Mark, may be considered the exception.
This is generally seen in the ivories of the
14th century (woodcut, No 153), where a
soldier on each side holds the ends of the
cloth which conceals the divine face. But
later Art vindicates her right to see as
much of the face as possible ; accordingly,
nothing more than a bandage is passed
across the eyes. Even this was sometimes
eluded, for occasionally the bandage is
transparent, and the eyes are seen gazing i33 The First MocJuug of chmt.
through with a strange and linear thy effect, (Ivorr- 14th century.)
56 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
as if piercing all obstacles by their divine power. Fra Angelico
has imagined this supernatural appearance (woodcut, No. 154). He
has given also to Christ the ball and sceptre of sovereignty, thus
showing His abstract dignity in the midst of actual insults. For
154 The First Mocking of Christ. (Fra Angelico.)
this is not to be taken as a confusion of this scene with that mock-
ing where Christ is invested with the crown of thorns and the reed
sceptre, but rather as an ideal setting forth of the opposite principles
of Good and Evil. This last representation occurs in his series in
the Accademia at Florence. The sentence in the 50th chapter of
THE MOCKING OF CHRIST. 57
Isaiah, which so closely described these and following scenes of the
Passion, and where it is said, ( Therefore have I set my face like a
flint,' has been held to refer to this particular effect of our Lord's
eyes, which are looking straight and steadfastly out, as if through
and beyond all things.
This mocking does not occur near so often, even in series, as
that, which we shall soon approach, inflicted by Pilate's soldiers,
and distinguished by the reed sceptre and the crown of thorns.
And it is not to be wondered at if mistakes between the two have
taken place. Nicoletto da Modena, for instance, in a well-known
engraving cited by Bartsch, further confounds both mockings by
representing the handkerchief as bound over the crown of thorns.
The German engravers are distressingly rude in their conception
of this scene. Albert Diirer gives our Lord sitting with His
hands convulsively grasping each knee, as if wincing from a brutal
servant who is dragging the divine head ignominiously on one
side by the hair. There is, however, more story and satire in their
plates. This latter quality is carried by Lucas van Leyden to the
brink of the profane, for he makes a Jewish father directing the
attention of his young child to Christ, thus maltreated, as a warning
against doing likewise.
The commentators differ as to whether the denial of Christ by
Peter occurred before or after the mocking. By Matthew and Mark
it is placed after that event ; by Luke, before it. .It must, how-
ever, be believed to have taken place after the Apostle had witnessed
a scene which tempted him the more to deny the knowledge of one
thus set at nought. It is plain, also, that it did not occur during
the mocking, as some have rather paradoxically suggested ; for St.
Luke, who only mentions this pathetic incident, says that our Lord
6 turned and looked upon Peter.' His eyes, therefore, must have
been at that time free from their bandage. The fact, too, that our
Lord ' turned' to look upon His recusant disciple, implies that Peter
had denied Him, where, perhaps, he thought that he was as little
heard as seen. And thus the Denial is appropriately introduced
into the same plate or picture, alternately as its foreground or
background, with the First Mocking. Perfect accuracy of detail,
however, is of course not to be looked for where the chief aim is to
set forth the ideas of our Lord's suffering and of man's infirmity.
VOL. II. I
58
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
155
The Mocking of Christ before Caiaphas. (Duccio. )
Thus Duccio gives the Mocking with our Lord blindfolded before
Caiaphas (woodcut, No. 155) ; while outside the hall — and therefore
interpretable as another and later moment — are the highly expressive
figures of the maidservant l and Peter, with the cock crowing above.
Instances, nevertheless, occur of the confusion entailed by the
quick succession of these various tribunals. We have seen the denial
of Peter put in the background with the appearance of Christ before
Annas. Peter's actual repentance is sometimes treated as a sepa-
1 It is curious to observe that even this nameless maidservant is not overlooked by
the early writers in their close researches into the typical meaning of every fact in
Scripture. Generally women are allowed the negative merit of not having personally
participated in the crime of the Crucifixion. But St. Ambrose (4th century) quaintly
says, ' What meaneth it that a maid is the first to betray Peter, save that that sex should
be plainly implicated in our Lord's murder, in order that it might also be redeemed by
His Passion '< '
THE MOCKING OF CHRIST. 59
rate picture ; the most remarkable instances are by Spagnoletto and
Rembrandt. It is also seen in backgrounds, as in the Crowning
with Thorns by Luini ; the Apostle kneeling in fervent prayer, and
burying his head in his hands. Further information is found in
Mrs. Jameson's ; Sacred and Legendary Art,' vol. i. p. 197.
For the chief details of the life and death of Judas, the reader is
referred to the same work by Mrs. Jameson (vol. i. p. 255). But
a few more particulars applicable to this part of the history of our
Lord may be inserted here. The repentance and death of the
traitor is an episode that occurs, apparently, while our Lord was
being led bound from the palace of Caiaphas to that of Pontius
Pilate the governor. It is mentioned in the rapid course of events
only by St. Matthew, who says that Judas, when he saw that He
was condemned — Caiaphas and the elders having openly asserted
Him to be worthy of death — i repented himself,' and returned the
money to the chief priests, more as an act of restitution than
because he thought he could thereby save the innocent blood.
And as they cast his guilt back upon him, he threw down the
money in the Temple, ' and went and hanged himself.' Another
account is given by Peter in the first chapter of the Acts, who,
speaking of Judas, ' which was guide to them that took Jesus,'
says that 6 falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and
all his bowels gushed out.' The truth is supposed to consist in
the union of these two accounts — the rope with which he sus-
pended himself having broken, so that the fall became the
actual cause of death. Certain generations of artists who executed
the series of the Passion apparently by rote, do not seem to have
reasoned much upon the words of Scripture. The figure of Judas,
both hanging and with his bowels gushing out, and thus combin-
ing the two forms of death, is almost an invariable feature in
the ivory diptychs and tablets which compress into a small space
the leading events of the Passion, as in our etching, vol. i. p.
23. In some of these ivories Judas, though thus dead, is repre-
sented with his hand raised to the rope by which he hangs — iv
mode, perhaps, of instructing the spectator that it was his own
act. On the Benevento doors the story is told with dramatic
vehemence, for Satan is seen seated upon the shoulders of the
pendent traitor, as if to weigh both soul and body down. In the
60 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
far-fetched logic of scholastic reasoning, this ' bursting asunder '
was interpreted as a particular judgment, viz., as preventing his
last breath from being exhaled through the same lips that had
betrayed his Lord. This idea also found expression at the hands
of Art, of which we have seen an example in a book of drawings of
the 14th century, in the Ambrogian Library at Milan. Here the
demon is taking the soul of Judas, under the customary form of
a little child, from the region of the bowels. Horrible as the
subject is, there is something quaint and almost graceful in this
drawing.
A modern painter has conceived a new and striking moment in
the short space between Judas's act of treachery and his death.
This is given by A. Thomas, a Belgian painter. The time is the
night. Two men have been fashioning the Cross by the light of a
fire; one is asleep, the other engaged upon it. Judas, bag in
hand, the moon shining behind him, comes suddenly on this scene,
and is transfixed with horror.1
1 Exhibited in the International Exhibition, 18G2.
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 61
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE.
Hal. Cristo avanti Pilato. Fr. Notre Seigneur devant Pilate.
Germ. Christus vor Pilatus.
ART now brings before us that Roman governor, who, in his
ignorant, evil, and comparatively obscure life, little thought that
his name was destined ever after to be preserved in connection
with the sacrifice of the mysterious Prisoner who twice stood before
him, who was ( conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin
Mary, and suffered under Pontius Pilate.'
We have already alluded to the apocryphal history of Pontius
Pilate ; his real history is much shorter. He is known to have
been very corrupt in his administration, and to have greatly
oppressed the Jews. Christian Churches have differed much in
the estimate of the part he played. The Coptic Church raised him
to the dignity of a saint, and in the types which his acts and
nation suggested, a favourable interpretation has, as we shall see,
been given. Scripture thus introduces him: * When the morning
was come, all the chief priests and elders took counsel against
Jesus to put Him to death. And when they had bound Him, they
led Him away, and delivered Him to Pontius Pilate, the governor.'
These are the words of St. Matthew, and the substance of the
account given of the same incident by the other Evangelists. The
Jews, it appears, had either no power to put to death, without the
order of the governor, or their customs did not allow it during the
Paschal week. The accusation against the Prisoner varied accord-
ing to the tribunal. Before Caiaphas, Christ had been charged
with sorcery and blasphemy; before Pilate, and subsequently
Herod, with treason to Caesar, in styling Himself a ' King.' It
was Pilate who, not sorry to deride the hypocrites before him,
seems first to have embodied the accusation in those ever-memor-
able words, ' the King of the Jews,' which began with the inquiry
of the Wise Men, and ended with the inscription on the Cross.
62 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
In the same spirit of derision, he asked our Lord the question :
< Art Thou the King of the Jews ? ' to which He answered in an
affirmative of which Christians understand the real import. But
to all the accusations of the chief priests and elders, and to the
further appeals of Pilate, He answered c to never a word,' so 6 that
the governor marvelled greatly.' Hearing, then, that Christ was a
Galilean, and glad to rid himself of a suit in which the accusers
made a charge which he knew to be false, and yet which the
accused mysteriously owned to be true, he sent Him to Herod,
whose jurisdiction included the district of Galilee. 6 And when
Herod saw Jesus, he was exceedingly glad, for he was desirous to
see Him of a long season, because he had heard many things of
Him, and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by Him.' But
here our Lord preserved the same course ; He made no answer to
Herod's ' many questions,' nor to the vehement accusations of the
chief priests and scribes. Tradition says that Herod believed our
Lord, from His silence, to be devoid of understanding, which may,
humanly speaking, account for his so far joining cause with the
chief priests as to mock their Prisoner, arraying Him i in a gor-
geous robe,' which the Greek Church interprets as ' a white robe,'
this being an attribute of regal dignity, and, as commentators have
not been slow to observe, of Innocence. Thus attired, Herod sent
Him back to Pilate.
This makes them agree ;
But yet their friendship is my enmity.
Was ever grief like mine ?
Along this space of narrative, however touching, Art has left but
few of her traces. The first interview with Pilate was, as we see,
barren of all that action necessary to the Art whose first requisite
is visible distinctness. It is, therefore, not admitted in the series
of events on early bas-reliefs, or even on ivories, both requiring, in
their simplicity of treatment and limit of space, a particular
identifying action.
One feature, however, there was, which may be gleaned in-
directly, but with certainty, from Scripture, and which belongs to
this first interview only. It appears that on our Lord's being first
brought to the governor's palace the Jews refused to enter, ' lest
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 63
they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover '
(John xviii. 28). Pilate, therefore, to humour them, ' went out to
them.' The old play of the Passion observes this circumstance, by
representing Pilate as first seeing and addressing our Lord from a
balcony. On Christ's return from Herod, however, it is stated that
Pilate took his seat in the judgment-hall, and there carried on the
further dialogue with the Prisoner. On this occasion, even, it
would seem that the chief priests and Jews did not enter the hall —
the objection regarding defilement being the same as it was an hour
previously — but that they incited the less formal multitude, who
had Christ in their grasp, to demand His death instead of that of
Barabbas, for Pilate is mentioned as again going out to them, and
as going backward and forward between the Prisoner and them.
Such minutise are not material, either to Art or edification, and are
only mentioned to prove that the distinction proper to this par-
ticular tribunal is, that the accusers should be outside the building.
Duccio takes the lead here with his admirable fidelity. In one of
the close succeeding scenes of the Passion he has shown Pilate
going out to the Jews and elders who stand without (woodcut, No.
156, over leaf). Pilate is saying, i Ye have brought this man unto
me, as one that perverteth the people : and, behold, I, having
examined Him before you, have found no fault in Him ' (Luke xxiii.
14). The figure of Pilate here, with his eagle nose, anl civic
wreath of bay leaves on his head, admirably expresses the cold,
formal Roman who utters these measured classic accents, and the
interest of whose sagacious and shrewd, but corrupt mind in this
strange Prisoner is one of the mysteries of this scene. The German
artists, in their sometimes rather spun-out series of the Passion,
occasionally give both the first and second appearance before Pilate ;
and Albert Diirer has rightly identified the first by representing
Pilate as standing on the steps of his palace and thus over-looking
the Prisoner, of whom little more than the back is seen.
Gaudenzio Ferrari, in his thirteenth fresco of the Church of the
Minorites at Yarallo, gives the scene with the same fidelity as to
this particular. Pilate is standing pointing to Christ, under
architecture which from the inscription on the entablature, * Pala-
cium Pilati,' is evidently outside the building. But this scene,
Lke Albert Diirer's, however true^ to the letter, has too little action
64
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Christ before Pilate. (Duccio. Siena.)
to be interesting ; and Pilate, in the Gaudenzio fresco, looks like a
strutting actor.
CHRIST'S APPEARANCE BEFORE HEROD.
NOR is the Mocking before Herod, ' the Second Mocking ' of scho-
lastic history, a subject which found favour in the religious cycles
—probably from the too great similarity between ' the gorgeous
robe ' and ' the purple robe,' for purposes of distinctness, especially
in forms of Art devoid of colour. Duccio identifies it with great
CHRIST'S SECOND APPEARANCE BEFORE PILATE. 65
refinement of expression, for our Lord evidently preserves a resolute
silence, while attendants bring a robe.
CHRIST'S SECOND APPEARANCE BEFORE PILATE.
WE come, therefore, after this long preamble, to that second ap-
pearance of our Lord before the Roman governor, which is called,
par excellence, < Christ before Pilate,' and which, from its character,
has admitted of a large range of expression.
St. Matthew and St. John are the two Evangelists who closely
describe the scene. St. Matthew says : ' When ' Pilate ' was set
down on the judgment-seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have
thou nothing to do with that just man : for I have suffered many
things this day in a dream because of Him. But the chief priests
and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas,
and destroy Jesus. The governor answered and said unto them,
Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said,
Barabbas. Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with
Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let Him be
crucified. When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but
that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his
hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of
this just person : see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and
said, His blood be on us, and on our children' (xxvii. 19-25).
Neither Mark, nor Luke, nor John give either the episode of
the wife's dream or of the washing the hands. And St. John is the
only one to detail that wonderful dialogue between divine light and
human darkness which was stopped short by Pilate's asking, 6 What
is truth ? ' and then, as Lord Bacon says, < would not wait for an
answer.' For c when he had said this, he went out again unto the
Jews, and saith unto them, I find in Him no fault at all' (John
xviii. 38).
Thus in this scene we have definite elements of Art — Pilate's
sitting on the judgment-seat, the messenger sent by his wife, his
VOL. II. K
66 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
washing his hands, the animated dialogue between the judge and
the Prisoner, and the exclamation of the people that the blood of
the Lord should be upon them and their children.
The earliest representations of Christ before Pilate appear on
Christian sarcophagi, found either in the Roman Catacombs or
disinterred in excavations at Rome. These are full of interest and
beauty. Pilate is always seated, generally attired in classic costume,
with the chlamys fastened on the shoulder, a crown of pointed bay
leaves on his head — retained at least eight centuries later by Duccio
— and sometimes with a cuirass of scale armour. Next to him
stands usually an attendant, with a delicate ewer of beautiful form
in one hand, and a kind of patera or basin in the other. A larger
ewer or vase stands before them on a tripod, or some kind of
stool. All these objects are of beautiful antique character.
Sometimes a figure sits next Pilate in animated action. This was
the officer associated with the judge in the administration of the
law according to Roman usage, called an assessor.1 Bosio and
other writers on ' Roma Sotterranea ' content themselves in the
description of this bas-relief by stating that ' Pilate is '" stolidly,"
" senselessly," or " stupidly" washing his hands,' varying the
epithets with a care which they have not bestowed on the examina-
tion of the subject. In truth, Pilate is never given here in the
act of washing his hands, and what he is doing is anything but
senseless in character. It is evident that the sculptors of these
various bas-reliefs, belonging to the 4th and 5th centuries, the best
of whom all follow the same type, had in this scene an aim of no
common refinement. Instead of the mere act of washing the
hands, they give us the cause that preceded and led to it. Pilate
is obviously troubled in mind. The life of a 'just man' is de-
manded at his hands, and the end of this perplexity will be to
wash those hands in token of his non-participation in the deed. We
therefore see Pilate seated in a position which, however varied,
betokens the same mental disquietude. The expression of the
whole figure is that of a man sorely puzzled what to do, with one
hand up to his head, his person averted, and his face more so, from
Him who stands before him. This is the conception as seen on the
tomb of Junius Bassus (see etching, vol. i. p. 13). Another bas-relief,
1 Miinter. Sinnbilder, p 1 03.
CHRIST'S SECOND APPEARANCE BEFORE PILATE. 67
of somewhat later date, shows him sitting full front to the
spectator, his hands clasped before him, the figure stiff and uncon-
scious, like one wrapt in reverie.1 From that time to this we know
of no representation which aims at the same refined individuality in
Pilate. We must remember that the part taken by the Roman
governor of Judaea was at that time fresh in the traditions of the
early Christians, and that the efforts he made to save our Lord, and
his wife's testimony to the innocence of the Prisoner, were care-
fully analysed and commented upon by St. Chrysostom, Origen,
St. Jerome, and other early Fathers, whose writings just proceed
or are coeval with the date of this form of representation. ~By
them Pilate and • his wife are looked upon as the t}rpe of the
Gentiles, who, in this, however unworthy, form, bear testimony to
the innocence of the Lord. In that light, too, the allusion to the
washing of the hands, in the form of the attendant, with the water
standing ready, has a twofold importance; first, in showing the
moment when Pilate's perplexity was at its height — for the
washing the hands took place after the message from his wife —
and also as a figure by which, St. Chrysostom says, the Gentiles
are ' cleansed and acquitted from all share in the impiety of the
Jews.'
Oar Saviour's figure standing before His judge has also a
beautiful significance. True to the feeling of classic Art, it shows
nothing of the painful part of the position. His expression is not that
of one harassed, or even captive. On the contrary, He stands before
the judge not only innocent in look, but young, beautiful, and, to all
appearance, free. For at most the hand of one figure only is laid
gently on His arm ; and, more generally, no sign whatever of His
being restrained is given by the figure on each side of Him. One
of the Saviour's hands is in gentle action, the other holding a roll of
papyrus, in token either of His mission as Teacher, or as typifying
the act of speech. The scene is perfectly peaceful : there are no ac-
cusers ; and there is no sign of tumult, except that in Pilate's breast.
It may be objected, with apparent truth, that there is nothing in
such a representation which conveys the idea of the violence and
cruelty of the captors, or of a weary prisoner who had already been
subjected to so much suffering both of mind and body. In one respect
2 Bottari, vol. i. pi. xxxv.
68 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
the objection is overruled by the conditions of classic Art, which
eschewed all signs of degradation and suffering — otherwise it is
really false. For, what was it that so puzzled the mind of Pilate ?
Something, doubtless, in the expression and bearing, as well as in
the words, of that strange Prisoner who stood before him. And
how was this something to be rendered, and at the same time the
indecision of the governor to be accounted for ? The antique artist
saw no other mode than to write, as it were, on the Person of the
Lord, those arguments that might well stagger even the Pagan
governor of Judaea. An angelic Being, young, beautiful, and
innocent, therefore stands before the judgment-seat, presenting a far
truer version, both of idea and story, than any appearance of that
personal misery and degradation which would have made no impres-
sion on such a mind as that of Pilate. It must be borne in mind,
too, that in the absence, for the first six centuries of Christianity,
of the subject of the Crucifixion, Christ before Pilate was the only
actual form in which the sacrifice of our Lord was given ; Abraham
about to offer up Isaac being its more frequently seen type. The
Lamb, therefore, thus brought to the slaughter, of whom so many
types were being slain in this very Paschal week, was to be repre-
sented as beautiful and young — because the firstling of the flock —
and ' without blemish.'
The next representation of this subject, as part of a series, has
been preserved in the ivory diptychs of the 13th and 14th centuries.
Here, more usually, the scene is limited to Pilate's figure standing
opposite that of an attendant, their heads almost touching. The ser-
vant is pouring water from a jug upon his hands, as seen in the
etching of the ivory, vol. i. p. 23. Here our Lord does not appear at
all. But in a few instances we have seen a fuller representation,
evidently embodying the moment when the dialogue is going on
between the judge and the Prisoner (woodcut, No. 157). The
hands of each are in animated action ; our Lord is bearded, and
has a certain elevation of character, but the individuality of Pilate
is quite lost — he is no longer the judge distracted between his
convictions and his fears, or the mysterious type of a hitherto
uncovenanted race, but he sits with his legs crossed, and his hand
clenched, the very impersonation of an obstinate and conceited old
burgomaster.
CHRIST'S SECOND APPEARANCE BEFORE PILATE.
In many series, Christ bearing His Cross is seen departing from
the judgment-seat at the same moment that Pilate washes his hands.
This is not to be considered as incorrect, but simply as a compression
of the sequence of the story in which
both fact and idea are fully maintained,
for it was then that Pilate gave Him up
to be crucified, though the journey to
Calvary did not immediately follow.
The episode of the wife, or of the
messenger from her, does not occur in
early Christian Art, nor in the ' Specu-
lum Salvationist An early appearance
of the wife's dream as connected with
Christ before Pilate may be seen in a
work by Meister Wilhelm of Cologne,
containing thirty-five subjects from the
life of Christ, in one frame, and now in
the Museum at Berlin. Here the wife
herself is seen standing at the governor's
Christ before Pilate.
(Ivory. 14th century.)
side, with a small black demon whisper- 157
ing into her ear. This mysterious cir-
cumstance is accounted for by a belief which prevailed, that Satan,
in order to prevent the salvation of mankind, had himself sent
the dream to this heathen woman. It being further suggested that
his information of this crisis on earth was derived from the Fathers
in Limbo, who were too much excited with their approaching
deliverance, of which they had received tidings from John the
Baptist, to be able to conceal it. In miniatures of the 13th and
14th centuries — for instance, in what is called Queen Mary's
Prayer Book, in the British Museum — the wife is in bed asleep,
and a large demon is hovering above her, inspiring the dream.
Other early writers refuted the idea as illogical and profane, and
to us the revealed fact that Satan entered into Judas for the express
purpose of tempting him to betray his Master, is sufficient answer
to a useless speculation.
In a drawing of the Netherlandish schools, pronounced by Dr.
Waagen to be about the date 1430, belonging to a series of the
Passion, in the British Museum, the character of Pilate is given
70 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
with a 'feeling which we have seen in no other instance. He is
not perplexed, as in the sarcophagi, but a*, he wipes his hands at
a regular i roll towel,' suspended, according to still existing custom,
on the wall, he turns his head with an expression of the tenderest
pity to the Lord, of whose figure little more than the back is seen.
Pilate is dressed in what looks like the costume of a Burgundian
prince of the day, and his wife, who is seen at a window, is like
an effigy on an ancient monument. Our Lord is evidently on
the way to crucifixion. In G-audenzio's fresco, where Pilate is
washing his hands, the same trace of compassion is observable
in his face as he looks down from his seat on the Prisoner. Other-
wise the Pilates of the 15th and 16th centuries, especially among
the Germans, including Holbein, are usually bustling, self-im-
portant officials, washing their hands with an air as if wanting to
be rid of the whole matter. In this fresco by Gaudenzio there is
a figure which is rather puzzling. It is that of a young man
seated on the step, with his elbow on his knee and his head on his
hand, in evident distress — the same figure, though not so young,
is seen in Lucas van Leyden's plate of the Flagellation. It may
be supposed to be the messenger from Pilate's wife, who, in both
instances, thus finds her message, ' Have thou nothing to do with
this just man,' discomfited. In later Art — as in Schiavone's picture
in the Stafford Gallery — the messenger is speaking into Pilate's ear
as he washes. In a picture by Benedetto Cagliari of Christ before
Pilate, in the Belle Arti at Venice, the wife is present.
The German artists have given no elevation to the scene of Christ
before Pilate. The Christ is always wanting in the commonest
dignity of man. He does not even stand upright, which is the
first condition of that attribute, and has generally His head bowed
on His breast, with a sullen, downcast, and even guilty look.
Instead of wearing that presence which belongs even to a dis-
crowned king, the figure is mainly to be distinguished by the
wretchedness of the expression and abjectness of mien. No one
could say, looking at Martin Schon's and Albert Diirer's repre-
sentations of Christ in this scene, that this is the hidden Light of
the world, and still less that such a figure would disturb the
hardened mind of a corrupt heathen governor.
THE FLAGELLATION. ?l
THE FLAGELLATION.
I tail. Nostro Signore flagellate alia Colonna. Fr. Le Christ a la Colo me.
Germ. Die Geisselung Cbristi.
WE now approach a portion of our task more painful, pernaps,
than any other. All that our Saviour underwent must be matter of
deep pity and horror, but some of His sufferings are invested with
a sanctity from Himself, and with an indistinctness from long disuse,
which strip them somewhat of their degrading character. Even
the Crucifixion, the most dreadful and degrading of all, has had a
halo thrown over it by the reverence and discontinuance of ages, so
that could such a punishment be now inflicted, our sense of the
ignominy and cruelty would be lost in that of the profaneness of a
mode of death which our Lord has sanctified to Himself. But it is
not so now with the Flagellation. It is true that, for a period, that
paradoxical piety which thought to approach the Creator by the
degradation of the being made in His image — one of the riddles in
the history of humanity — found morbid gratification and humilia-
tion in the giving and receiving of stripes. At that time the image
of our Lord bound to the column must have lost all its more painful
features, without gaining in sanctity. Now, however, the current
of feeling has set in the contrary direction. History and experience
have taught that personal degradation, whether self-imposed or
inflicted by another, seldom leads to humility of heart or amend-
ment of life. The self-flagellator, therefore, even in that abstract
sense which will never become obsolete, meets with no sympathy ;
while, as a form of penal severity, the age in which we live is be-
coming more and more averse to any infliction of severe corporeal
punishment. Meanwhile the mind recoils almost more from the
subject of the Flagellation than from any other in this mournful
series, and can only approach it at all through the sense of the
sanctity of those stripes by which we are healed.
72 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The Evangelists give no sanction to extreme opinions, whether of
sympathy or horror. No part of our Saviour's ordeal is related with
greater reticence of words. St. Matthew and St. Mark speak of the
incident, as it were, in parenthesis.
' Then released he Barabbas unto them : and when he had scourged
O
Jesus, he delivered Him to be crucified ' (Matt, xxvii. 26).
' And so Pilate, willing to content the people, released Barabbas
unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had scourged Him, to be
crucified ' (Mark xv. 1 5).
With St. Luke, the Flagellation is only mentioned as a propo-
sition for the acceptance of the Jews : ' I will therefore chastise Him,
and release Him' (Luke xxiii. 16).
St. John alone brings the fact prominent, though with no greater
expenditure of words : ' Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and
scourged Him' (John.xix. 1).
The commentators are not agreed whether the infliction of scourg-
ing was, under the Roman law, the usual prelude to the Roman
death upon the cross. It is certain from St. Luke, that Pilate pro-
posed this punishment as a compromise, in order to induce the Jews
to forego further extremities. It remains, therefore, an open ques-
tion whether, if the punishment of scourging always preceded cru-
cifixion, the shrewd Roman governor, whose strong leaning towards
the unknown Prisoner before him is one of the mysteries of this
course of events, would have suggested what could scarcely fail to
stimulate those who, like wolves, would be far more ferocious after
once tasting blood.
From the narrative of three of the Evangelists, it has been
supposed by some that our Lord was condemned by Pilate before
His Flagellation. But St. John's more circumstantial account
leaves no doubt as to the sequence of these events. In legends, too,
this order is preserved. St. Brigitta, the royal saint of Sweden,
seeing the Flagellation in a vision, relates that one of the scourgers
stopped and said, * What! will ye kill Him before He is judged?'
This exclamation alludes to the supposed severity of the punish-
ment— a question partially solved by the admitted fact that the
scourging of our Saviour was given under the Roman law. Accord-
ing to the Levitical code, the number of stripes for any offence
was limited to forty. Lest they should miscount, however, the
THE FLAGELLATION. 73
Jewish judges always confined the number to thirty-nine, remind-
ing us of St. Paul's repeated, endurance of ' forty stripes save one.'
But the Roman law assigned no limit to such sentences, and
instances are related, under the consular history, of sufferers
who perished beneath the infliction, though it does not appear that
these were cases preceding crucifixion. On the other hand, the
gratuitous malice shown by the soldiers, and permitted by Pilate,
in the mocking and crowning with thorns which followed the
Flagellation, leads to the conclusion that no mercy had been
shown.
Thus Art has been left to build up her materials for this painful
subject from a variety of indirect evidence, which has, as we shall
see, left its traces on her path. From the Gospels she extracted
nothing but the fact itself; from the Old Testament, a few
prophetic notices believed to refer to this particular part of our
Lord's trial ; from the Roman ]aw, the knowledge that the con-
demned received this punishment standing, and therefore, it may
be inferred, attached to a pillar ; from the Levitical law, prostrate
on the ground; also from St. Augustine, in his sermon on the
Passion, that * God lay extended before men, suffering the punish-
ment of the guilty ; ' from tradition, that He was beaten, not with
rods like a free man, but with whips like a slave ; from conjectural
computations, that He received above 5000 stripes ; from others,
equally without authority, that they were limited to 300; from
a passage in Psalm cxxix. 3 : ' The plowers plowed upon my
back : they made long their furrows,' and in Isa. 1. 6 : < I gave my
back to the smiters,' that the Lord was smitten on the back ;
from St. Jerome's commentary on St. Matthew, that i the capacious
chest of God was torn with strokes ; ' from St. Brigitta's ' Revela-
tions,' that His person was entirely bared to the blows, and that
no part of it remained whole. Finally, according to the opinion of
some, that Pilate, feeling as he did, would not have permitted any
excess of severity ; and, from St. Chrysostom, that the Jews bribed
the Roman soldiers to treat their Victim with unusual cruelty.
Such, therefore, were the ideas, either softened or exaggerated by
the feeling of the time, which offered themselves to the service of
the artist.
The Flagellation was not a subject, as we have had occasion tc
VOL. n. L
74 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
observe, for any Art embued with classic reminiscences ; yet it
appears before those had quite died out, for one of the earliest
specimens of the subject may be traced back to the llth century,
the Flagellation occurring with other Scenes of the Passion on the
silver-gilt plates at Aix-la-Chapelle, to which we have referred.
Here an unmistakable sign of the reverence of the time (assisted
by the helplessness of Art) is seen in the fact of our Lord being
fully draped (woodcut, No. 158). This screen, thus interposed be-
158 The Flagellation, (llth ctntury. Silver-gilt plates. Cathedral, Aix-Ja-Chapelle.)
tv/een the uplifted thongs and His sacred Person, greatly increases
the sense of His dignity. The forms are short and rude, but a
classic character still clings to the drapery. The same form of con-
ception continued through this century, being seen on the doors of
the cathedral at Benevento, and of St. Zeno at Yerona, though these
two examples offer no analogy in their form of Art, the bronze of
S. Zeno being immeasurably ruder than the brass of Benevento.
In both of these examples, too, the principle of our Saviour's volun-
tary sacrifice is presented to the eye ; for in neither instances is
THE FLAGELLATION.
75
there any appearance of the rope which is supposed to have attached
Him to the column. His hands are simply ]aid round it, implying
His never-suspended power of withdrawing them. In a MS. of
1310, called Queen Mary's Prayer Book, one of the most beautiful
examples in the British Museum, there is even no column ; Christ
stands clothed in blue drapery from head to foot, holding a book
in one hand, and blessing with the other. These examples,
however imperfect, are animated by a far devouter feeling than
that which was expressed by the exaggerated physical horrors of
mature Art.
But the Lord's position, with His back or side to the spectator,
The Flagellation. (Ivory. 14th century.)
did not long recommend itself. It had a more degrading aspect,
and constrained our Lord's face, which, we must remember, always
belongs to the spectator, to be turned in a forced attitude. This
position, with the face seen at most in profile, lost favour as Art
advanced in powers, when it was overcome in an ingenious
manner. In the series of the Passion belonging to the 14th cen-
tury, where the Flagellation never fails, the Saviour is seen with
His face fronting the spectator, and His hands attached to a pillar
before Him, of such slender form as not to conceal the front of His
Person (woodcut, No. 159). This, too, serves to spread a viel
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
between the spectator and the reality, for the fury of the assailant
is spent where the eye does not follow. In these forms of repre-
sentation also He is often entirely draped. Duccio follows the
same course. Our Lord stands with the column before Him.
Giotto has omitted the incident. It is in the tender hand of Fra
Angelico that we recognise the Flagellation given under the form
of the most reverential reality (woodcut, No. 160). Nothing is
160
The Flagellation. (Fra Angelico.)
omitted, and in the expression of our Lord's face, as He regards
one of the scourgers, a more personal feeling is given than is else-
where seen. It is this expression which gives them the true
character of their vile office, for, regarded separately, they are not
men of violence ; the rods in their hands (Fra Angelico avoided
the more debasing whip) are slight and powerless ; they are gently
each holding the end of the rope which fastens the Saviour's hands^
doing their task without any sign of that malice which later times
THE FLAGELLATION.
have indecorously exaggerated. Here, perhaps for the first time,
our Lord stands in the position adopted by. all subsequent Italian
Art, with His back to the column, His hands attached behind
Him to it, and His Person stripped of all but the cloth round the
loins. Thus the column protects the back of the Saviour, and the
strokes fall, as St. Jerome had said, upon the capacious chest of
God.'
The standing position, according to the Roman law, may be pro-
nounced the accepted type of this subject; nevertheless instances
may be seen (one in the Moritz-Capelle at Nuremberg) where the
Saviour is on the ground, attached by one hand to the column, and
still being scourged —which either imply the Jewish custom, or the
more terrible idea of our Lord having fallen beneath the severity
of His sufferings. In the great Florentine period of the Quattro
Centisti, this subject, in common with the other events of the
Passion, found little favour. This was the time, more or less in all
schools, when bur Lord's Person was seldom represented in adult
age, unless under the aspect of Death, in Pietas and Entombments.
As it has been observed in the Introduction, the Madonna and
Child, in every varied position of tender beauty, the life of the
Virgin, that of John the Baptist, and the lives of saints, especially
of St. Francis, mainly absorbed the energies of the painters of the
15th century. It would be difficult to point to a Flagellation by a
great Florentine hand, besides that by Fra Angelico. It occurs,
however, twice in that most interesting book of drawings by Jacobo
Bellini in the British Museum, where the lead pencil, however faint
the lines, gives life to a most elevated conception of our Lord,
as He stands serene and patient rather than suffering. In one
instance the scene is laid in the open air, and the column to which
He is attached is a solitary pillar surmounted by an urn.
Gaudenzio Ferrari is the chief Italian painter and modeller of
the Passion. He has two representations of the Flagellation. That
in a chapel in the Church of the Madonna delle Grazie at Milan is
a ckef-d'ceuvre, though barbarous ignorance and neglect have swept
away all traces of the lower portion. Our Lord's figure is indescrib-
ably beautiful; its benignity and sweetness triumph over all the
violence around Him. The scourgers are ferocious, the instruments
are deadly, and a figure raising his knee as he fiercely fastens our
78 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Lord's hands to the pillar, belongs to that class of exaggerated
violence which, with Gaudenzio, goes hand in hand with the most
exquisite feeling for beauty ; but a radiance goes forth from the
Victim which neutralises all. Beauty in Art, like holiness in life,
has a stronger influence than its opposite quality.
Here, too, the painter, designedly or not, has adopted a mode of
conception which might be laid down as a canon for all representa-
tions of the Flagellation. He has made the Lord looking full at
the spectator. In all scenes our Saviour's face, as that of the
principal figure, belongs, in the sense of Art, to the spectator.
But in this scene we especially require it as a refuge from the
impious features around. It is believed, too, that the Sacred
Person was in the Flagellation first exposed to the gaze and
violence of man. It is the more fit and natural, therefore, that
His eye should be turned upon those for whom He thus suffered.
' This is my body which was given for you.'
It does not appear that many painters reasoned thus. Too often
the Lord's head in this scene is averted, or cast down. Sebastian
del Piombo's painting of the Flagellation in the Church of S. Pietro
in Moritorio, in Rome, believed to be from a design by Michael
Angelo, is an instance of this, and of the loss of all spiritual feeling.
The figure is that of a "brawny athlete embarrassed how to dispose
of his gigantic limbs ; while His head, turned from us, and bowed
on His chest, as if avoiding the blows, gives an idea as contrary to
dignity as it is to doctrine.
A miniature at Brussels in the Library of the old Dukes of
Burgundy, in a psalter of Jean de Berri (15th century), departs, in
our Saviour's figure, from all rules of what may be called propriety.
The Saviour is placed with the slender column before Him, and is
covering His face with one of His hands. This is very touching,
but false in sentiment, as acknowledging a sense of shame in Him
of whom one of the chief characteristics is, that He ' endured the
cross, despising the shame.'
It is as bad when our Lord is made looking up, as if appealing
to heaven, which is the equally inappropriate conception of Gau-
denzio's other fresco. This is an action scarcely ever successful in
Art, and especially unfit in Him who, in these hours of trial,
obviously avoided ministering to the impiety of the Jews, who
THE FLAGELLATION.
79
throughout sought a sign from Him. We have seen this idea
further caricatured in a drawing of the Flagellation belonging to a
series of the Passion, otherwise of most touching character, in the
British Museum. Here the Saviour's whole Person is wrung in
161
The Flagellation. (L. Carracci. Bologna Gallery. )
the attempt to cast up the eyes, and the spectator involuntarily
searches for the motive of such extraordinary contortion : only a
vision seen above could justify it.
But the most objectionable conception of the Flagellation that
we have known was reserved for the later Italian school. Ludovico
Carracci, in his picture in the Bologna Gallery (woodcut, Nof 161),
outdoes every one, as our illustration will show, in offence alike to
80 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
Art and to Christian reverence. This scene needs no comment,
unless to suggest to the reader to glance from this back to the
woodcut (No. 160) from Fra Angelico, the comparison showing
the total decadence of Christian Art in the interim.
The Flagellation had by this time assumed a regular type of
composition, only differing in the conception of the principal figure.
The scene is generally placed in a hall sustained by pillars, to one
of which our Lord is fastened. The scourgers vary from two to
four in number. The expression of ferocity is increased by their
holding the rod or whip (for both instruments are used) — in both
hands — a feature seldom seen in the calmer proprieties of the
Italian school. In most instances, the instinctive taste of Art has
chosen the moment when the execution of the sentence is just
begun. Thus one man is seen tying our Lord's hands to the column,
and another binding a bundle of loose switches into a rod. The
figure of Pilate is often present — entering the background, seated
on his throne, or standing looking on, and in some instances
holding forth his hand or sceptre, as if to say, Enough.
The German rmisters of the 15th and 16th centuries, in their
engravings of the Passion, have given the lowest view of the scene;
the coarse reality being generally overdone, and those touches of
spiritual feeling in our Lord's Person, which should counteract it,
omitted. Nevertheless, there is more story in these scenes, and
more allusion, to what is to come ; while the recurrence of the
same individuals in succeeding subjects — for instance, of the same
brutal figure who is foremost as mocker, scourger, and mocker again,
and who finally drags our Lord along the road to Calvary — gives
that sense of dramatic effect which they probably took from the
then familiar play of the Passion. In these respects Martin Schon
has a peculiar force; we recognise gradually all the wild beasts
who hunt down their divine Prey. His reality in the Flagellation
is least repugnant. He has adopted the Italian arrangement of
our Lord's back to the column. The Person of the Saviour is
ugly, and over-emaciated, and He stands uneasily, with feet slip-
ping off the base of the column : but the head is noble arid in-
telligent, and, though not looking at the spectator, He is looking
nowhere else. All speculation of those harassed eyes is within,
and the expression is of deep and painful abstraction, but not of
CHRIST AFTER THE FLAGELLATION. 81
bodily suffering. His hands are just being fastened; His garments
— or perhaps the purple robe — lying before Him in rich folds on the
ground, while an old villain is sitting by, plaiting a tremendous
crown of thorns.
Albert Diirer's two representations of the Flagellation are of a
very degraded type ; for some reason — perhaps the tradition of our
Lord's having embraced the column, derived from St. Brigitta — he
has returned to the earliest mode of all, and placed Christ with His
face to the pillar. But, with the spirituality of the old time, all
that made that arrangement endurable is gone. The position in
which Albert Diirer has placed the figure, turned sideways, and
with His back to the spectator, staring at the column, is most
unbecoming. But his Pilate has a touch of real life. It is not the
Pilate moved with compunction for the Prisoner, but it is a true
man of the world, standing by with folded arms, evidently bored,
and wishing to get it over.
Israel von Mechenen has placed our Lord with His back to the
column, and His hands attached to it above His head. This position
is occasionally seen. In early and rude coloured German woodcuts
it is given, while St. Brigitta's vision, that there was no whole spot
left in Him, is alluded to by the spots of blood at regular distances
all over our Lord's Person.
Ruben's picture of the Flagellation in the Dominican Church at
Antwerp is the most important instance of this subject as an in-
dependent composition. He, too, has turned the Saviour's back
towards the spectator for motives inspired by his peculiar, and, in
this case, too unscrupulous art. It is a terrible picture.
CHRIST AFTER THE FLAGELLATION.
BUT the subject of the Flagellation is not exhausted by the usual
form we have been describing. Painters have felt that the moments
which succeeded its accomplishment furnished a scene more ac-
ceptable to their feelings. Here, however deeply the emotions of
the spectator may be touched, there is no risk of their being
offended, for only artists of refined pathos would think to lift the
VOL. n. M
82 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
veil of this unrevealed interval. Luini has here left the stamp of
his exquisite feeling. The Saviour is being unbound, all strength-
less and fainting, from the dreadful pillar. This is a devotional
picture, in which sense, owing probably to its painfulness, the
Flagellation is not seen. St. Catherine is showing the sad spectacle
to a kneeling devotee, and St. Laurence, on the other side, points
it out to the spectator. We add an etching of it, though nothing
can give an adequate idea of the original fresco, all ruined as it is,
which is almost more than the eye can bear. It is in the Monas-
terio Maggiore at Milan, in the dark, dilapidated church behind
the building usually visited by the traveller ; both being full of
what have been some of the most beautiful works of this most
sympathetic of painters.
Another great master, in another age and land, was also inspired
by an analagous thought. A picture by that grandee of Spanish
Art, Velasquez, has lately come to England,1 which takes up this
pathetic interval at a still later moment. Our Saviour is seated on
the ground, His arms suspended by the rope which still attaches
the hands to the column. Ropes, whips, and rods, with broken
twigs, lie on the ground, and slender streams of blood indicate the
severity of the strokes, and, in a pictorial sense, by following the
forms, serve to define the anatomical markings. A guardian angel,
of solid Spanish type, is pointing to the Lord's figure, while in front
of the angel kneels a child, with clasped hands, in unspeakable
reverence. To this child the Saviour's gaze is turned, and a single
ray goes direct from His head to the child's heart. Much of the
pathos is conveyed by this child, whose parents maybe supposed to
have given this picture as an ex-voto offering for its recovery from
illness. Velasquez and Luini, have few points of comparison in
their respective excellences. Here the Christ is full, strong, and
robust in look, though the comparative prostration is, perhaps, as
touching, while the flow of the lines has an ineffable grace. There
is an elevated feeling, too, in the absence of the just departed tor-
mentors. Our Lord, though bleeding and exhausted, seems for a
moment scarcely in this world, for He is alone with a child and an
angel. We give an etching.
1 Belonging to Mr. John Savile Lumley, who became possessed of it at Madrid, and
exhibited in the British Institution.
'•
CHRIST AFTER THE FLAGELLATION. 83
A small rude woodcut in the British Museum shows that earlier
minds also pored reverentially into this interval. We here see our
Lord sinking as far as the rope allows ; His scourgers are leaving
Him with mockery in their gestures, and His Mother is looking
through the window.
St. John has been introduced as a witness to the Flagellation,
being believed to have followed our Lord into Caiaphas' palace.
Zani mentions an engraving from a picture or design by Giulio
.Romano, in which a young man, supposed to be the Apostle, is
standing by weeping. The Virgin also, in later conceptions of
false sentimentality, is given as a witness in an ideal sense — as,
for instance, with a sword through her heart.
B4 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE CROWNING WITH THORNS.
Ital. Nostro Signore coronato di Spine. Fr. Le Couronnemeut d'Epines.
Germ. Die Dornenkronung.
6 THEN the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common
hall, and gathered unto Him the whole band of soldiers. And they
stripped Him, and put on Him a scarlet robe. And when they
had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon His head, and a
reed in His right hand : and they bowed the knee .before Him, and
mocked Him, saying, Hail, king of the Jews ! And they spit upon
Him, and took the reed, and smote Him on the head ' (Matt, xxvii.
27-30).
This description by St. Matthew differs in no respect from those
by St. Mark and St. John, except that these two Evangelists call
it ' a purple robe.' St. Luke omits the incident of the crowning
with thorns and the mocking altogether.
This difference between the terms ' scarlet ' and ' purple ' is not
unobserved by early commentators. Some imagined it to mean
two robes, especially as the word used by St. Matthew is interpreted
as meaning a military cloak ; and considering the improvised
nature, as well as the spirit, of this mockery, it is most probable
that some such old garment as this was hastily chosen. But the
more general voice also of early commentary decided the two words
to be different names for the same colour. We see, also, that the
Scriptures use the various definitions for intense red indifferently :
< Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ;
though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.' The
French translation of the Scriptures takes this view, and gives no
other definition of the purple robe than that of <le manteau
d'ecarlate.'
To the painters this latitude of colour was rather a boon. They
took advantage of it to portray our Lord in every variety of red,
from brilliant scarlet to mournful violet. Occasionally, too, the
idea of a royal robe is further wrought out ; and, as in Giotto's
THE CROWNING WITH THORNS. 85
fresco in the Arena Chapel, a gorgeous brocaded pattern is added
to hues of Tyrian dye. Nor was there any discrepancy, in a
theological sense, in this variety of term, for while any deep red
colour sufficiently represented the robe in which our Lord was
derisively invested, it was equally typical of the colour of blood, in
which sense the early writers found various profounder meanings.
The purple or scarlet robe was thus not only the emblem of royalty,
but that of suffering or martyrdom — also of victory. Here was
the conqueror coming from Bozrah 6 with dyed garments ' (Isa.
Ixiii. 1), and in a 'vesture dipped in blood' (Rev. xix. 13). Or
the robe was the type of the flesh crucified through the blood of
Christ, or the sign, St. Jerome says, of His having taken on Him-
self 'the bloody works of the Gentiles.'
As regards the Crown of Thorns, Scripture throws no light on
the particular plant thus distinguished; but among the numerous
thorn-bearing shrubs of Judaea, one has received the name of
' Spina Christ i.' The thorns are small and sharp, and the branches
soft and pliable — the more fitted, therefore, to have been i platted '
for such a purpose.1 The Italian artists, with their usual refine-
ment, have generally given a wreath of thorns of this description,
while those North of the Alps have conceived an awful structure
of the most unbending knotted boughs, with tremendous spikes,
half a foot long, which no human hands could have forced into
such a form. This object, too, like all the various instruments
of our Lord's suffering, was viewed in the likeness of various
types, accomplished unconsciously by the cruel ingenuity of
His enemies. While thrust on His brows, in mockery of a
regal diadem, it denoted also the thorns and briers sown by the
first Adam, end now for ever blunted on the sacred head of
the second Adam. Or, according to a beautiful idea of St. Am-
brose, the thorns are the sinners of this world, thus woven into
a trophy, and worn triumphant upon the bleeding brows of the
Redeemer.
We have dwelt upon the purple robe and crown of thorns more
at length, because with them begins the first mention of the so-
called Instruments of the Passion — an important chapter, both in
. .._,., ,'t
The three-thorn ed acacia is also supposed to have supplied the crown of thorns. A
fine tree of this species is in the garden of the Bishop's Palace, at Fulhara.
86 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Art and Theology — and also because their appearance ends not
here. The robe is carried on into the next and far more frequent
subject of the ' Ecce Homo ; ' while the crown of thorns accom-
panies our Lord upon the Cross, and leaves Him not even when
deposited by Art by the side of the sepulchre, for it reappears
invariably on the head of that pathetic and mysterious figure —
alive and yet crucified — called ' the Man of Sorrows.'
Nor may we overlook the reed sceptre. This is often given by
painters as the real bamboo cane, well-known in the Middle Ages,
both North and South of the Alps, and also by the Italians in the
form of that < reed ' which grew nearest to them, known by the
name of the ' cannaS The sceptre of pretended authority had also
its spiritual meaning, and became the type of our infirmities thus
graciously grasped by Him in His very right hand, or the sign
of a strength henceforth to be made perfect in weakness. This,
too, was to reappear both in the next scene and in the plaintive
picture of the Man of Sorrows. Thus, throughout, a double
meaning of endless significance was evolved from this scene, con-
verting the insulting attributes of a mock kingdom into the in-
signia of the highest spiritual sovereignty. However fanciful and
far-fetched some of these interpretations may appear in a theo-
logical sense, for Art, at all events, a lofty spiritual meaning,
breaking through the actual facts of the scene, was the true object
to be sought.
One of the earliest representations of this scene is, as we have
found with other subjects, the most elevated in character. It is
on the brazen doors of the cathedral of Benevento. Our Lord is
standing, erect and noble, a robe of dignity upon Him ; the indi-
cation of a crown, now at all events smoothed by the hand of time
of its thorns, is on His head; a short staff, more like a bdton of
power than a reed sceptre, in His right hand. Four figures are
around Him, yet at respectful distance, as if He were hedged in by
His Divinity ; two in mock worship, and two as if about to strike
Him with their hands. With our eyes habituated to a lower
interpretation of the subject, such conceptions as these look almost
like a parody of respect. But if involving an apparent departure
from the letter of the description, there is the closer adherence to
the spirit in which we are bound to view it. For it must be always
THE CROWNING WITH THORNS. 87
borne in mind, in considering Christian Art, that there is a truth
in these scenes higher than the mere facts, at which, unless Art
aims, she falls far short of her calling. As we have said before,
there are two points of view to be remembered — that of the spec-
tator of the scene, and that of the spectator of the picture. The
latter knows all the solemn secret, the former not. To us, there-
fore, this is properly the very Lord of glory, though at the same
time the mind consents to the fact that to the rude soldiery the
same figure is but a mock king. In a miniature in a MS. dated
1310, the reverence is carried so far that our Lord only holds a
sceptre in His hands, and there is no crown of thorns at all. Still
two figures, formally mocking, identify the subject.
Giotto's fresco of this subject in the Arena Chapel maintains the
same sense of our Lord's paramount dignity. Here our Lord's
hands are not bound. His robe is of a gorgeous pattern, the crown
of thorns is small, and the cruciform nimbus large, as if the grace
as of the only-begotten of the Father overmastered all the mocking
devices of his enemies. This, again, is a real king to our eyes,
though an impostor to those who swarm about him — more,
apparently, in wanton mischief than with brutal insult. Among
the figures is a black man, probably the type of the unconverted
Gentiles, whilst figures of a higher class, possibly Pilate and some
of the elders, look on.
Both these representations embody a moment rarely chosen for
this subject, viz., that immediately after the crown has been placed,
making the mock worship the real action. But the almost universal
conception of the subject gives us the actual crowning — a moment
far more difficult to invest with propriety, and which, moreover,
from its earliest to its latest treatment, has been given under a
conventional form which palls upon the eye. This consists in the
pressing down the crown upon our Lord's brows by means of two
long staves, each held by a figure, who thus ostentatiously avoids
all contact between his own hands and this object of terrible
ingenuity. These staves are sometimes so long and pliable as to
take the form of a bow. This conception is seen in all forms of Art,
and becomes the regular type of treatment from the 14th century
to the time of Luini, Titian, Domenichino, and later painters. We
give an illustration from a Speculum Humanas Salvationis (No.
88
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
162). It is also traditionally preserved in the play of the Passion
before referred to. It is possible that the passage, 6 And they took
the reed and smote Him on the head,' may have been thus inter-
preted. In a Speculum Salvationis with Latin and German text,
one of the earliest printed, it is said, ' They struck Him on the head
with a reed ; pressing down upon Him the sharpest points of the
crown of thorns.' Also in the i Reproaches ' chanted by the Roman
Catholic Church on Good Friday, it is said, < For thee I struck the
kings of the Cauaanites, and thou didst strike my head with a reed.
162
The Crowning with Thorns. (Speculum. 15th centurj".)
Oh! my people, what have I done to thee? Answer me.' Thus the
striking the Lord's head with a reed — no slight instrument in the
East — after He was thus excruciatingly crowned, by which the
thorns were necessarily driven deeper into His brow, was the feature
kept prominent in the Church, and, therefore, it may be inferred.,
required to be so by Art. In a larger sense, however, this cross-
wise mode of pressing down the crown of thorns was considered as
a type of the Cross.
This subject, like the Flagellation, scarcely occurs in the wide
school of Florentine quattro and cinquecento Art ; though here
again the peculiar qualities of the Lombard school seem to have
THE CROWNING WITH THORNS.
favoured its admission. The grandest form in which it was ever
represented is found in Bernardo Luini's fresco (of which we
give an etching), in an apartment of the Ambrogian Library at
Milan. This is a magnificent devotional picture, amplified with
all the circumstance that could contribute pathos and dignity.
The scene takes place under an open arcade of pillars. On each
side kneel six figures of black robed citizens, cap in hand. Above,
in the background, is St. John, a figure of pathetic distress, point-
ing out the scene to the Virgin and Magdalene ; on the other
side is a Roman soldier, perhaps Longinus, also indicating the
scene to two figures, one with a long white beard, supposed to
portray the painter himself; while within a cavern Peter is seen
kneeling in repentance. The centre figure of the picture, raised on
a regal height, is indescribably fine — Sweetness and Dignity knit
together by Patience, such as only Luini ever conceived — less a
suffering than a tranquil image, between the clenched fists directed
at Him. Here, too, the same convention of the staves, held by
two soldiers, is preserved. The mantle is more scarlet than crimson.
By a whimsical conception, the pillars themselves are wreathed
with gilt thorns, and two crowns of thorns hang on each side from
the architrave. With these two rows of Milanese citizens kneeling
below, the eye consents to any fanciful allusion. Not, however, to
the bodiless cherubs with wings, like short-clipped flowers with two
leaves, which flutter over the Saviour, and mar the earnestness of
the effect. Above the throne is the inscription, ' Caput regis glorias
spinis coronatur.'
Titian's c Crowning with Thorns,' now in the Louvre, is one of the
finest pictures, as a work of Art, which commemorates this scene.
But, with all its great qualities, it is totally deficient in the spiritual
feeling which alone makes the scene, as such, endurable. The
same two staves are here brandished violently as they press down
the crown of thorns ; a third figure, with another long stick, is about
to add the weight of his hand. Our Lord's figure is highly con-
strained, His legs spread, His head turned away, and His eyes
raised with that appealing expression which is peculiarly out of
place.
Domenichino's picture is still lower in conception. One staff,
held by two figures, is pressing the crown so violently on the
VOL. II. N
90 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
brow, that our Lord's figure threatens to lose its equilibrium. The
violent action of the figure above our Lord, with a formidable
prong, is inconsistent with the very life of the Being against
whom it is directed. In the play of the Passion at Ober-Ammergau
our Lord is overthrown ; but this, though revolting to the eye, is
more excusable, for, once raised again, the offensive action is
forgotten. As regards exaggeration of violence and rudeness, the
eclectic painters stand much on a par with the German and Flemish
engravers. The Person of our Lord in these scenes is generally
made succumbing beneath every possible indignity.
The German engravers of the 15th and 16th centuries have
chiefly chosen the first moment of the scene, accompanied by the
same peculiar incident of the staves. Martin Schon, the master
of 1466, Lucas van Ley den, Israel von Mechenen, have all followed
this traditional form. Albert Diirer, in one case, departs from it ;
for while one figure presses down the tremendous structure of
thorns with a staff, another in front seems to be assisting with a
pair of pincers. Much violence and rudeness is used, our Lord's
head being sometimes dragged down by the hair, with other
incidents which outrage instead of elevating the piety of the
spectator. These masters have, however, the same merit in this
scene as in the Flagellation. There is more story given ; Pilate
is seen frequently seated on a stately tribune, looking on. Some
of them have preserved the tradition that our Lord was mocked
seated on a stone. In a print by Lucas van Leyden this has the
disadvantage of placing the Saviour so low, that dignity of bearing
is impossible.
Occasionally, in later times, we see the convention of the staves
omitted, instead of which a soldier is forcing the crown on with a
mailed hand, proof to the thorns. This is the case in a picture by
Annibale Carracci, engraved by himself. ,
The same is seen in a work by Michelangelo Amerighi, in the
Munich Gallery (No. 532).
Van Dyck, also, in his well-known composition, represents the
crown as gently placed on the head by a figure in armour with
mailed gloves.
Rembrandt has an etching of the subject after the crowning has
taken place.
THE ECCE HOMO. 91
THE ECCE HOMO.
Ital. Nostro Signore presentabo al Popolo. Fr. Notre Seigneur pre'sente' an Peuple.
Germ. Pilatus stellt Christus dem Volke vor.
' THEN came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the
purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man ! '
(John xix. 5). St. John is the only Evangelist who narrates an
incident which brings before the eye one of the most solemn, and,
therefore, suggestive moments in the whole course of our Saviour's
sufferings. Pilate's original intention in these words, possibly to
disarm the fury of the Jews, by stripping our Lord of every claim
but that of His humanity — as some of the early writers have it —
matters not. The spirit for once yields to the letter, and is
swallowed up in the awful significance of these simple words, ' This
is the man ' — and our part is to behold Him.
Art, therefore, has no other such direct occasion as this for grati-
fying her pious ambition in the conception of the countenance our
Lord wore upon earth. It was, indeed, her bounden duty to place
Him before us — face to face — occupied only with our contempla-
tion, as we only with His. This is the same Christ we have seen
throughout this ' via dolorosa,' and shall see to the end, differing
only as being for a brief moment divided from His sufferings, and
seen only for Himself, He was not being questioned, reviled, or
scourged, but simply shown — the mock king to His accusers, the
Saviour to the sinner. It was a momentary pause in which the
principles of good and evil confronted each other, and in which the
evil principle was to be permitted to triumph. Art did not always
comprehend the height and depth of this task, and a subject which
centred so much in the head of our Lord was too elevated not to be
often proportionally degraded ; though, in the endeavour to rise to
it, some of the most devout and pathetic images that the world of
Art possesses have been produced.
The choice of the artist lay in a very small compass ; namely, as
92 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
to what particular expression to give to the head. Oar Lord's
countenance must be believed to have exhibited every quality
befitting Him and this occasion — His patience, resignation, dignity,
and love, never omitting His power. But all these qualities could
not be given in equal force ; for the combination of every expres-
sion is the negation of all. One particular expression it was need-
ful to keep prominent to the eye. It remained, therefore, to choose
that which was proper, not to all men, but to Christ only at this
moment. Meekness under suffering, and, still more, apathy — an
aim which has contented many an artist — is common to many
men ; patience and dignity, often and beautifully depicted, possible
to some ; the mere expression of suffering, common to all ; but love
and pity for His very persecutors, ' The Man ' alone could maintain
at such a moment. Here, therefore, we arrive at the expression
proper to our Lord.
At the same time all restrictive theories upon Art must be taken
with great reserve, for some of the most wonderful powers, as we
have often occasion to see, have been exerted in defiance of all rule.
An artist's feeling is a law unto himself, and Art is justified of her
children.
The Ecce Homo is a comparatively late subject. It did not occur
in the Greek Church; it is absent from the series of the Passion
by Duccio and Giotto ; it does not appear in early ivories, nor in
manuscripts. It was kept possibly out of the field of Art by that
mystic subject of the crucified Saviour, which we shall more parti-
cularly describe, erroneously called the Ecce Homo. The fact, too,
that ' the Man of Sorrows,' dead under their weight, was directly
addressed to the pity of the spectator, may account for the Ecce
Homo being addressed to the same feeling. It was one of the aims
in the Roman Church from the 15th century to excite compassion
for the Saviour — an aim which has always tended to lower Art by
lowering the great idea she is bound to keep in view.
The subject of the Ecce Homo is divided into, two forms — the
devotional picture, which offers the single head, or half-figure, of
Christ to our contemplation, as the i Man of Sorrows ' of the
Passion; and the more or less historical picture, which either
places Him before us attended by Pilate and one or more attend-
ants, or gives the full scene in numerous figures.
THE ECCE HOMO. 93
The figure of Christ in either cases is generally seen with the
purple robe hanging upon the shoulders, the chest hared, the
traces upon it, more or less given, of the scourging He has under-
gone ; often with the rope round His neck, and His hands usually
bound in a crossed position, so that the right hand holds the reed
on His left side. The eyes are either cast down, or raised blood-
shot and tearful, or looking at the spectator. In almost all
early pictures, whether Flemish or Italian, tears are falling down
the cheeks.
The first eminent painters who treated this subject were both
the Van der Weyden. A picture by the younger of the two, in the
National Gallery, belonging formerly to the Prince Consort, excites
deep emotion. The Saviour stands before us with eyelids red with
weeping, the hands clasped in evident prayer. This is not a high
ideal, but it is Christ ' The Man,' bearing our flesh, and intensely
one of us. He who could reject and despise that fellow-sufferer
must be what Scripture classes among the vilest of the race of
Adam, ' without natural affection.' This was, however, a perilous
road to enter. Rogier van der Weyden himself knew not always
how to preserve the distinction between suffering and degraded
humanity. He repeated this subject several times, and of one, also
in this country, Nagler says that it frightens more than edifies the
soul. His imitators fall into extravagant exaggerations, and a
number of hideous Ecce Homos are to be seen in foreign galleries —
for instance at Berlin, which renew the horrors of the latest Byzan-
tine time. A face of abject woe is inundated with rivulets of tears ;
shivering, distorted, and weeping, the figure stands there incapable
of the ideas of love, sacrifice, or glory — < a worm, and no man.'
The intercourse between the Netherlands and Spain makes it easy
to account for the same low character in the Spanish Ecce Homos.
Morales, certainly in this subject misnamed * El Divino,' gives the
most deplorable head — an insult to any sufferer. Murillo's type,
though not so doleful, is commonplace enough.
The full historical scene given in the series of German and
Flemish engravings was not much less debased. Our Lord's Person
is ignobly conceived. He stands in a crouching and servile attitude
far removed from true humility. 4The whole picture is viewed through
the eyes of the wretched rabble before Him ; not even through those
94 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of Pilate, who, in such instances, is a hypocrite ministering to
their passions, while pretending to restrain them ; for the crafty
governor must know that the exhibition of such an abject figure
can only the surer raise the cry, i Away with Him ! '
As regards, therefore, the conception of our Lord, the same
mistake prevails, with little exception, from Martin Schon to
Holbein. The merit of these plates consist in their hurried and
dramatic character. All is brutal excitement and violence. The
people cannot wait for His blood ; they are bursting their throats
in cries for His crucifixion. The cross, or the crosses, are some-
times seen borne already aloft in the hands of the multitude. A
ruffian with a rope coiled round his arm, like a street porter, stands
ready to throw it over the condemned head. Lucas van Leyden again
makes an innocent child an accomplice ; one, typically eating an
apple, sits on the steps bawling, with its little mouth full, in unison
with the rest.
One of the most important pictures by this rare master, whose
name as ( Luca d' Olanda ' is systematically given to every Flemish
or German picture in Italy, represents this subject. It is in Mr.
Baring's gallery. In the background is a city, with a tall and mas-
sive guardhouse, on which are inscribed the words * Ecce Homo.'
On the parapet wall of the terrace before it, and behind a kind of
bar, stands the Lord, bleeding all over from the scourging ; the robe
held open by two figures, the crown of thorns on His head, and His
hands bound. Close to Him is Pilate with the reed — like a northern
bramble — in his hand, pointing Him out to a group on lower ground
before them, who are vehemently demanding His life. In the im-
mediate foreground is a previous scene — Christ taking leave of His
Mother, who sinks on her knees while He blesses her. The sky is
very fine ; heavy thunder-clouds on one side, and breaking light on
the other.
But there was another master about to appear in the plains of
Holland, who was destined, while adhering to the so-called reality,
and even vulgarity, of these Northern Schools, to retrieve both by
the spell of the highest moral and picturesque power. That
i inspired Dutchman, ' as Mrs. Jameson has called Rembrandt,
threw all his grand and uncouth soul into the subject. He
painted it once in chiaroscuro (dated 1634), and treated it
TEC- 'Sis
THE ECCE HOMO. 95
twice in an etching ; each time historically. We give an etching.
The incident takes place in the open air. A crowd is round and
behind our Lord, a crowd is importunately pressing upon Pilate,
and below is more than a crowd — rather a furious sea of heads —
vanishing beneath an archway, of which we see neither the begin-
ning nor the end. A figure in front, connecting this multitude
with the group before Pilate, is extending a hand over the seething
mass, as if enjoining patience. Far off in the gloom, another
figure, borne apparently on the shoulders of the multitude, is gesti-
culating to the same effect in the opposite direction ; both seeing
numbers invisible to us. The conception of our Saviour departs
from all our theories ; He is not looking at the people, or at any one.
His head and eyes are uplifted, not in protest or in prayer, but in
communion with His Father. The people are not even looking at
Him, for Rembrandt well knew that such a multitude, in this state
of violent excitement, are incapable of fixing their attention upon
anything. The Christ is neither beautiful nor grand in the usual
sense, nor is there any glory round His head ; nevertheless, a light
seems to emanate from His Person, and the darkness comprehendeth
it not. One face alone has apparently caught the suspicion that
this is no common culprit. It is a hard-featured soldier near Him,
who is wrapt in thought. But the group before Pilate is the
prominent and master stroke. Rembrandt must have witnessed in-
cidents which had told him that there is no earnestness like that of
fanaticism. These are not the mere brutes who bawl from infection,
and who can be blown about with every wind, such as we see in
former representations ; these are the real Jews, and this is the real
Pilate — vacillating, bending in indecision, with -his expressive, out-
stretched, self-excusing hands, and false temporising face — who has
no chance before them. It is not so much the clutch on his robe by
one, or the glaring eye and furious open mouth of another, or the
old Jew, hoary in wickedness, who threatens him with the fury of
the multitude ; but it is the dreadful earnest face, upturned and
riveted on his, of the figure kneeling before him — it is the tightly
compressed lips of that man who could not entreat more persistently
for his own life than he is pleading for the death of the Prisoner.
Rembrandt has given to this figure the dignity, because the power,
of a malignant delusion : horribly fine. This is a truly realistic
96 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
conception of such a scene, which has a grandeur of its own, in
contradistinction to those improperly so called, for the reality of
mere brutality is not a subject for Art at all. Rembrandt, in
executing this etching, may be conceived to have had the second
Psalm in his view : * Why do the heathen so furiously rage to-
gether ; and why do the people imagine a vain thing ? ' Yet the
master has exquisitely contrived the full effect of a scene of violence,
without shocking the most refined spectator. Not a sign 'of it
approaches our Lord's Person, who, as long as He is in the custody
of the Roman soldiers, is guarded by a form of law; while the
furious crowd below is so wrapt in Rembrandt gloom as to
suggest every horror to the imagination, and give none to the eye.
But 6 the vain thing ' is seen without disguise in that urgent group
before the wavering Roman — embodying the strength of an evil
principle against which nothing can prevail but that ' Truth ' which
Pilate knows not.
The first appearance of the Ecce Homo in Italy was in the finest
time of Art. The subject was conceived either as a single figure or
in a semi-historical sense, our Lord being accompanied by Pilate
and one or a few attendants, who hold back the robe and show Him
to the spectator. We remember no representation of the full his-
torical scene.
Andrea Solario (born about 1458) has a fine Ecce Homo, a single
figure, in the g; ILry of Lutschena, belonging to Count Speck Stern-
berg, near Leij sic. The crown of thorns, like stags' antlers, round
the gentle downcast head, is unusually large for an Italian painter.
Here the passive expression is given. The eyes are cast down^ and
the tears are falling.
Fra Bartolomeo (born 1469) has the simple figure of our Lord-
without hands, of a very gentle character. The eyes are down. It
is quite the Lamb of God. Also in the Pitti.
Razzi (born about 1479) has painted the Ecce Homo. It is in
the Pitti. Pilate and an attendant are lifting the robe. The Christ
is of stern character, looking at the spectator neither in distress nor
pity, but almost in anger.
Gaudenzio has not omitted the subject in his series. It forms
the upper compartment of the Flagellation in the Church of the
Madonna delle Grazie at Milan, and is a fine specimen of the
THE ECCE HOMO.
97
tender feeling of the Lombard school. Two attendants are holding
up the robe. The Lord has His arms crossed on His breast, and is
looking down. The figure shows a sad and touching lassitude, and
the colouring helps its ineffable refinement.
Correggio's picture in the National Gallery is a masterwork, on
which all praise is superfluous. He has attained that look of earnest
163 Ecce Homo. (Gaudenzio Ferrari. Madonna delle Grazie, Milan.)
commiseration and sympathy for those before Him, in the head of
Christ, which we have ventured to indicate as the proper expression.
VOL. II. 0
98 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The fainting Virgin in front is a novel incident in this piece, and,
far from adding pathos, embarrasses the position of the Saviour,
whose attention would naturally be concentrated on His Mother.
This is the first time we see this unscriptural passage in the Virgin's
life : it will often occur as we proceed, and seldom be acceptable to
the feelings.
One of the most beautiful pictures of this subject was reserved for
a comparatively late master to execute. Cigoli's large work in the
Pitti (born 1559), of which we append an etching, can hardly fail to
touch the heart. The feeling of the head is indescribably pathetic ;
all is mournful, gentle, and loving, and the very colour of the robe
adds to the sadness.
Other later Italian masters sentimentalised the subject into the
loss of all truth and pathos. There is nothing to pity, except that
the head is so pitiably weak. Affectation takes the place of all other
expressions — the figure is not being shown, it is displaying itself.
The hands are made objects of vanity, and the robe and sceptre are
held as if sitting to a court portrait-painter.
A further representation remains which is of strictly ideal cha-
racter, and may be considered as embodying the general idea of our
weary and tormented Lord between the time of the Flagellation and
the Bearing the Cross. This is seen in a grand and strictly original
picture by Moretto (born about 1500J in the Museo Tosi at Brescia,
his native city. Here the Saviour sits bound, His body marked
with stripes, and the reed sceptre in His hand, upon the steps
which possibly lead up to the tribunal of Pilate. The Cross, to
which He was to be obedient, is at His feet, while above, holding
the garment of Christ, is an angel, the face all convulsed with
weeping, like a grand youth not ashamed to show his affliction.
Few artists could have coped with such an expression as we here
see in the angel's face, distorted, and yet so overpoweringly touch-
ing. The idea of the angel holding the robe is doubtless taken
from the early conception of angels holding the garments at
the Baptism. We refer the reader to the accompanying woodcut
(No. 164).
A picture called an Ecce Homo, in the Pitti, attributed to Pol-
lajuolo (born 1439), evidently aims at the same combination of ideas.
Here Christ, crowned with thorns, is looking at those before Him.
JBGG3E
Cutoli.
THE ECCE HOMO.
164
Ideal Ecce Horno. (Moretto. Museo Tosi, Brescia.)
But He is without the purple robe, while on a parapet in front lie
the three nails and the sponge of gall.
100 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
CHRIST BEARING His CROSS.
Ital. Nostro Signore che porta la Croce al Calvario. Fr. Le Portement de la Croix.
Germ. Die Kreuztragung.
THE final delivery of the Captive into the hands of the Jews was the
turning-point of the doings of this awful day. It could, therefore,
not be omitted by any of the sacred narrators, who describe it, three
out of the four, in few, grave, and graphic words. St. Matthew, who,
like St. Mark and St. Luke, omits the scene of the Ecce Homo, con-
tinues the narrative immediately from the crowning with thorns :
6 And after that they had mocked Him, they took the robe off from
Him, and put His own raiment on Him, and led Him away to crucify
Him. And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by
name : him they compelled to bear His cross' (Matt, xxvii. 31, 32).
St. Mark says, in almost similar words : ' And when they had
mocked Him, they took off the purple robe from Him, and put
His own clothes on Him, and led Him out to crucify Him. And
they compel one Simon a Cyrenian, who passed by, coming out of
the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to bear His cross '
(Mark xv. 20, 21).
St. Luke is more brief in the first part of the scene, and more
circumstantial afterwards : 4 And Pilate gave sentence that it should
be as they required. And he released unto them Him that for sedi-
tion and murder was cast into prison, whom they had desired; but he
delivered Jesus to their will. And as they led Him away, they laid
hold upon one Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on
Him they laid the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus. And
there followed Him a great company of people, and of women, which
also bewailed and lamented Him. But Jesus turning unto them,
said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for your-
selves, and for your children. For, behold, the days are coming in
the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that
never bare, and the paps which never gave suck. Then shall they
begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us ; and to the hills, Cover
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 101
us. For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done
in the dry? And there were also two other, malefactors, led with
him to be put to death ' (Luke xxiii. 24-32).
St. John is very short; nevertheless his words have been the
chief guide for Art in this subject : ' Then delivered he Him there-
fore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led Him
away. And He bearing His cross went forth ' (John xix. 16, 17).
This Evangelist, we may observe, is the only one who mentions
our Lord as bearing His Cross at all.
Here, therefore, we have the materials for a scene known to all
conversant with Scripture illustration, and which assumes a position
in Art commensurate with its importance as a great historical fact
and Christian lesson. It has been frequently treated as an inde-
pendent subject, is never found absent from any series of the
Passion, and has received every variety of illustration incidental to
varying times and schools.
The subject dates from the earliest application of Art to the
Life, Passion, and Death of Christ, and is seen on ancient doors
and in early miniatures. The painter has, we see, clear instruc-
tions as to the costume of our Lord on starting for the place
of crucifixion. First they put on Him His own raiment again,
which had been successively changed for the white and purple
robe. This was done, it is supposed, that the multitude, seeing
Him pass along in the robe familiar to them, should have no
doubt of His identity. Next, the silence of all the Evangelists
permits the inference, that the crown of thorns was not taken
from His brow ; for the resumption of His own garments was for
a purpose of their own, viz., the greater shame of the Victim.
But the removing that crown would have served, as Jeremy
Taylor observes, ' as a remission of pain to the afflicted Son of
Man,' and therefore presents a terrible motive for leaving it where
it was. Thus Art, with few exceptions, has depicted the Lord
Jesus Christ, on His way to Calvary, wearing the raiment in which
He had been captured — in Art always a blue mantle and red under-
robe — and with the crown of thorns on His head. In rare instances,
our Lord is seen attired in white, the symbol of innocence. Such
an example appears in a curious and rude early picture (attributed
by D'Agincourt, in pi. Ixxxix., to the 13th century) in S. Stefano
102 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
at Bologna. Here the figure of our Lord with the long hair,
wreath-like crown of thorns, white robe, bare arms, and girded
waist, is almost womanly. We have seen another in a MS. in
the British Museum, where Christ is bearing His Cross exactly in
the state in which He came from the column: — that is, devoid of
all clothing except the perizonium or linen cloth round the loins.
Thus attired, He now for the first time touches that Cross on
which He was to die. It was especially the condemnation of
malefactors to carry their cross to the place of execution: this
was so great an ignominy in the eyes of the Roman people, that
the lowest term of degradation was that of ' furcifer,' or gallows-
bearer. The transverse beam alone is supposed to have been thus
borne, but Art has here rightly adhered to the letter of the text,
and to the spirit in which every Christian must mentally view this
scene. Our Lord is therefore always bearing a real cross, thus
outwardly symbolising, as the earty Fathers ingeniously supposed,
the mysterious words of Isaiah, c And the government shall be
upon His shoulder ; ' that government of which thorns were the
crown of investiture. Another feature usually attached to our
Lord's Person by Art is the rope round His waist by which He was
led. This, though not gathered from Scripture, is sufficiently pro-
bable. The feeling of the artist is seen in the manner in which it
is used ; sometimes hardly visible, or hanging loosely in the hand
of the soldier going before Him — oftener, tightly stretched as He is
rudely dragged along. The rope is also sometimes seen fastened
round our Lord's neck. The reverent monk, Fra Angelico, attaches
no rope to our Lord at all, though one is seen coiled in the hand of
a soldier accompanying Him.
Of the subject in this limited form — the Saviour alone, thus
attired, and bearing His Cross — Art has made very touching use.
Depending as this mode of conception did on the expression not
only of the head but of the hands thus graciously used, it was not
attempted until these two Shibboleths of the painter had been
mastered ; and, therefore, not until the maturity of Art. This
simple treatment was especially adopted by Marco Palmezzano, a
scholar of Melozzo da Forl), who executed many figures of the
single figure of Christ bearing His Cross. Two of them may be
instanced; one in the Museum at Faenza, his native place, and
CHRIST BEARING HTS CROSS.
103
another, belonging to the late Mr. Brett, exhibited at Manchester,
of which we subjoin an illustration (No. 165). Nothing can be
more touching than this view of the subject, thus divested of all
but the pure idea — the patient submission to the burden, the
resolute clasp of those tender hands, and the mercy and pity in the
humid eyes, which we feel are warning all to weep for themselves
more than for Him.
165
Christ carrying the Cross. (Pa.mczzuno.)
The same, single figure has been treated by Morales. A fine
specimen is in the Louvre, another in Mr. Baring's gallery, and a
third at Oxford. These are totally wanting in the real pathos
which Palrnezzano has given. Morales' face is that of a sufferer
too miserable to give a thought to another : and the hands, though
beautiful, are spread upon the Cross for show, and not for the real
pain and labour of love.
Another view, of which we give an illustration (No. 166, over
leaf), may be called a mystical conception of the subject. It is by
Fra Angelico. Our Lord is here proceeding with a light, rapid,
and even elate step ; utterly opposed to all idea of exhaustion. Nor
is there any Jerusalem behind, or Calvary visible before Him ; but
104
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
166 Christ carrying the Cross. (Fra Angelico. Convent of S. Marco, Florence.)
the scene is rocky, and the way rough — an epitome of the Chris-
tian's course, thus passing, as a vision, before the eyes of St..
Dominick and the Virgin.
Another conception, of a late and poetic kind, by Poussfn, is our
Lord alone, fallen beneath the weight of His Cross, with angels in
the clouds compassionating Him.
Thus far our Lord's figure alone. Beyond that the subject
branches off into great variety of conception, being accompanied
by more or fewer figures, varying from two or three to above a
hundred. These may be classed under three different heads — the
more or less simple bearing of the Cross, as the great example of
Christian fortitude and humility; the falling beneath the Cross;
and, thirdly, that fuller representation, in which either the true
idea of the bearing the Cross, or the false type of the falling beneath
it, is lost iu the confusion and violence of the scene, which may be
termed the Procession to Calvary. Under no circumstances can
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 105
the representation of this subject be termed historical, for legend
intermingles with all these aspects, and is the entire foundation of
on6 of them.
Of all these, the Bearing of the Cross, as a great Christian fact
and idea in Art, takes the precedence in date. It also generally
embodies an earlier moment in the scene — that in which our Lord,
has just come forth with His burden from the gates of Jerusalem,
which are often seen behind Him. In early miniatures, and on the
doors of S. Zeno at Verona, the ideal character is especially given
by the size of the Cross, which is so small as scarcely to amount to
more than a symbol, and is utterly inadequate to its terrible pur-
pose. This assists that beautiful intention of the willingness and
freedom, and, therefore, the ease of the sacrifice which hallows all
the early conceptions of these scenes. The Cross is often also seen
represented as green in colour, which may either be in allusion to
its origin as a tree, or, it has been supposed, to some far-fetched
association with our Lord's words, < For if they do these things in
a green tree, what shall be done in the dry ? ' But as regards the
size of the Cros.s, Art did not long require such an obvious solecism
to effect her purpose. Giotto, in the Arena Chapel, ventures to be
true, and more than true ; for the Cross our Lord is bearing is over
large, arid, of course, heavy in proportion. He carries it, too, in
defiance of all physical laws ; holding it by the lower end of the
upright beam, so that the topheavy transverse part is considerably
behind Him, thus adding considerably to the weight. Neverthe-
less, He walks freely underneath it: thus suggesting both the
gladness of His gracious work and the miraculous effects of a
strong and patient faith under all crosses of life.
The incidents of the Passion in which the Cross appears are
especially to be looked for in churches dedicated to the Cross,
which, in the Roman calendar, takes the position of a saint. Thus,
in the magnificent Church of S. Croce, at Florence, one in which
the lover of Art and of History may alike find inexhaustible sources
of interest, the legendary history of the Cross itself, which will be
separately treated farther on, is represented on the walls of the
choir, while the sacristy contained those events in which our Lord
is historically associated with the instrument of our salvation. The
greater portion of these last-named frescoes, which are by the hand
VOL. II. P
106
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of Taddeo Gaddi, have been long covered with whitewash, leaving
only one wall visible, on which are three magnificent representa-
tions, hitherto unengraved. 1. The Bearing of the Cross; 2. The
Ib7
Christ carrying the Cross. (Taddeo Gaddi. S. Croce, Florence.)
Crucifixion ; and 3. The Besurrection. We give a woodcut of
the Bearing of the Cross, which is remarkable in several respects
(No. 167). Here Christ, clad in a robe of the most delicate
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 107
light red, walks with tolerable ease beneath His burden. Behind
Him is a figure helping to bear the Cross, though scarcely to be
interpreted as Simon the Cyrenian, for with his other hand he is
about to push our Lord. Farther back is the Virgin with the
women — of whom we shall have more to say. We will here only
draw attention to her beautiful action, with the outstretched arms,
which Raphael must have seen in his sojourns in Florence, between
1504 and 1508, and which is the same motive as that given in his
Spasimo (painted 1516-18). This is a specimen of the way in which
the best things in Art descended from one generation of painters to
another ; Taddeo Gaddi himself having, perhaps, borrowed it from
some earlier form.
To return to our description. In front of the Cross are Jews.
The attendants consist chiefly of Roman guards with standards, one
of which bears the customary S. P. Q. R. — ' Senatus populusque
Romanus' — the cohort vanishing under the gate of Jerusalem,
from which they are issuing. The figure of one of the thieves,
with bound head and disconsolate look, is seen close to the right
end of the transverse beam, and in front, with a banner borne
before and behind him, is evidently the figure of Pilate, still
retaining that troubled, puzzled look which had descended from
the Art of the Catacombs. Above are seen the battlements and
towers of Jerusalem, under the form of beautiful Italian towers and
campaniles. A circumstance in this fresco shows the morbid
appetite for exaggerating the sufferings of Christ, which hastened
the decline of Christian Art. Some late and wretched limner had
disfigured this fresco by painting an enormous round stone as
suspended to the transverse beam, in order to increase the weight
of the Cross. Fortunately it has faded in colour, and is no longer
conspicuous. These were the inventions by which it was endea-
voured to stimulate the compassion of the ignorant for the suffer-
ings of Christ, but which, it may be safely asserted, only stimulated
the depraved appetite for sights of cruelty.1
1 The old writers relate that those condemned to the Cross were tormented in various
ways to increase their speed on the way to it. See Sandinus, ' Historia Families Sacrse,'
p. 154. We give also this quotation from Jeremy Taylor : ' It cannot be thought but
the ministers of Jewish malice used all the circumstances of affliction which in any case
were accustomed towards malefactors and persons to be crucified, and therefore it was
108 HISTORY Or OUR LORD.
Another magnificent fresco of the Bearing of the Cross, forming
part of a series, is by the unknown painter who has left his immor-
tal works in the Cappella degli Spagnuoli, at S. Maria Novella in
Florence. Here Christ assumes much the same position, while a
novel and original meaning is given to the attendant figures by the
earnest manner in which they are evidently discussing the event.
The battlements, also, are thronged with figures looking down,
and thus an importance is given which, though not consistent with
probability, is favourable to the pomp and magnificence of Art.
We return, however, to more circumstantial description. The
appearance of Simon the Cyrenian on the scene (to adhere at first
to the sacred narrative only) is another moment. The wisdom
of Scripture, which seems all along to interdict too close a search
into the details of our Lord's sufferings, has kept entire silence
on the immediate cause which induced -the soldiers to remove
a burden from Him to which it is sufficient for us to know that
He brought a greatly exhausted frame. But that they laid the
Cross on Simon, instead of bearing it themselves, is readily solved.
No Roman or Jew would touch that instrument of shame. No
passer-by of either nation could they have compelled to do so
with impunity. But Simon, a man of Cyrene, coming from
the country, thus unexpectedly compelled to the only act of
mercy here recorded, was a stranger and a foreigner — one of the
people excluded from the Old Covenant, whom the Jews hated,
and yet, as the early writers have figuratively described, the
type of those to whom the New Covenant was now about to be
sent. For he came from the country, which, they argued, meant
from the abodes of heathenism and idolatry, while his very
name, as St. Jerome and others observe, betokened the gathering
of the Gentiles — Cyrenian meaning obedient, and Simon au heir.
Whether Simon literally bore the Cross in our Lord's stead, as
Matthew and Mark simply say, and as was strenuously urged by the
early Fathers, and as a further type of those who were to take up
that in some old figures we see our Blessed Lord described with a table appendant to the
fringe of His garment, set full of nails and pointed iron, for so sometimes they afflicted
persons condemned to that kind of death : and St. Cyprian affirms that Christ did stick
to the wood that he carried, being galled with the iron at His heels, and nailed even
before His crucifixion.' We have never met with this class of picture.
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 109
the Cross and follow after Him, or whether he bore it together
with and behind Him, as mediaeval theology insists, are points
which we may leave. There are evidences, however, in early Art
that the positive transfer of the Cross to Simon was believed
in. On the Benevento doors our Lord is standing upright in the
centre, while a figure towards the edge of the bas-relief bears
the Cross. Diiccio also represents our Lord erect and unen-
cumbered, evidently in the act of prophesying that they shall
call to the mountains to fall on them, as He turns with dignity to
a man who is carrying a vessel with nails and hammer. The
Cross is here again borne by Simon, who in both cases precedes
Christ. Zani also mentions a picture by Ercole Grande di Ferrara,
where Simon is bearing the Cross alone. But, as time proceeded,
the feeling gained ground that our Lord could never have con-
sented to separate Himself a moment from the instrument of our
salvation. The Cross is therefore invariably seen carried by Him ;
and Simon, when he does appear, is either giving but nominal
assistance — merely conveying the idea, by placing his hands on
the Cross, sometimes on one of the transverse ends, as may be
seen in ancient ivories — or he is giving his help more seriously,
though occasionally doing cruel service by lifting the lightest end
jind thus throwing the weight more upon the Sufferer. Upon the
whole, however, Simon is not so frequent a feature in this scene as
might have been expected, and in later times not to be distin-
guished among the various hands that assist to lift it from the
prostrate figure of Christ. Where distinguishable, he is represented
as an old man.
The thieves who were led with Christ to be put to death are
another historical feature in this scene. They are not so frequent
in Italian as in Northern Art, though they occur early. Fra
Angelico has introduced them in his more historical rendering of
the subject, in the series, often quoted, in the Accademia at
Florence. They are here, and usually, preceding our Lord, with
their hands tied behind them. Sometimes a touching interest is
given to one of them which leads the spectator's mind forward in
anticipation of the high destiny awaiting him. For he is seen
looking back with tenderness and respect at the patient and
burdened Lord, with whom we perceive already that he is the one
UO . HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
destined to' be that day in Paradise. This refined trait is given by
Niccolo Alunno in his picture in the Louvre. The thieves are very
rarely, and only in late Art, seen carrying their crosses — a de-
parture from the Roman custom justified (as not specified in Scrip-
ture) in order to give the greater prominence to the moral idea of
the Bearing the Cross. In an early Italian engraving in the British
Museum, where the Crucifixion is seen above, and the Bearing of
the Cross occupies the lower portion, the rope which is round
Christ ties the hands of both the thieves, thus enclosing Him with
them, who help to drag Him along.
But here, strictly speaking, the materials from Scripture terminate,
for the women who followed Him lamenting are seldom given, and
then only in that much later form which we term the Procession
to Calvary. That these women mentioned in Scripture were not the
Virgin and the attendant Maries, is evident from the words our Lord
addressed to them. It was not to His Mother that our Saviour can
be supposed to have prophesied the time when it should be said of
her, 6 Blessed are the barren.' Nor in her typical character as the
Church, in opposition to the Synagogue, can she be represented
as following Him lamenting, for the Church, as we shall see in
the Crucifixion, is always represented as rejoicing. The frequent
appearance, therefore, of the Virgin, with St. John and the other
Maries, following our Lord in the Carrying of the Cross, may be
attributed to the fact stated by Mrs. Jameson in her 6 History of the
Madonna,' p. 302, viz., that this scene constitutes one of her mystical
sorrows in the series of the Rosary instituted by St. Dominick (born
1175). It may also have descended from the art usages of the
Greek Church, •vrith which it is a standard incident. ' Derrie're lui
la sainte Vierge, Jean le Theologos (the Evangelist) et d'autres
femmes en pleurs.' No early painters — Duccio, Giotto, or Fra An-
gelico — are without this group of sorrowing figures. To the Greek
Church alone, however, we directly trace an incident which often
accompanies them, both in Southern and Northern schools; viz., a
soldier with a stick repulsing the Virgin, and resisting her further
progress. ' Uu soldat la repousse avec un baton.' This is seen in
our woodcut from Taddeo Gaddi (No. 167), and gives rise to a touch-
ing action on the part of our Lord, who is turning His head, and
looking with pity at His Mother's distress. Her supposed presence,
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 111.
however, at this time, led to conceptions highly derogatory to her
sacred character. In a fresco by Niccolo di Pietro, a pupil of Giotto,
in the chapter-house of S. Francesco at Pisa, a soldier is seen draw-
ing his sword upon her ; and in a picture hy Pinturicchio, in the
Casa Borromeo at Milan, a soldier has actually seized the Virgin
by the throat. Not seldom, the Virgin is seen fainting, supported
by St. John or the Maries, which attracts the same notice from our
Lord. In the same Bearing the Cross, by Nicolo Alunno, in the
Louvre, mentioned p. 109, a horseman with lance and pennon is
galloping his steed between the group of the Mother and Son. The
Virgin is stretching out her arms in agony to Him, and St. John
rushes between her arms, with a reverential though impassioned
action, as if at once to calm her emotion and protect her from
harm.
But this introduction of the Virgin thus impoteutly bewailing
her Son, and often rudely repulsed in the attempt to follow Him, is
an instance of the questionable service derived by Art from any
legendary addition to the revealed scenes of the history of our Lord.
Her presence and her grief are often rendered very touching —
never more so than in the Spasimo by Raphael ; yet the eye feels that
they are so pictorially, and the heart that they are so morally, at
the expense of the principal Figure and chief Sufferer. His Mother
here increases His burden instead of diminishing it. It is He who
is compassionating or suffering with her, not vice versd. The in-
cident of her fainting is worse still ; it is a poor subject for Art,
occupies others with her sufferings instead of with His, and is con-
trary to that character of the Blessed Virgin conveyed by Scripture
and preserved in tradition, as the Mother who was constant to her
Son, ' non solumcorpore sed et mentis constantia.'
Another aspect of the part assigned by legend or the painter's
imagination to the Virgin is less unworthy of her. In various forms
of Art, ivories, drawings, and painted glass, chiefly of Northern
origin, the Virgin may be observed attempting herself to bear the
weight of the Cross. These are instances when our Lord is still
upright beneath it, and when her feeble hand touching the burden
gives little more than the pathetic idea of her yearning to relieve
her suffering Son (woodcut, No. 168, over leaf). St. John, too,
sometimes participates in this action.
112
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
168
Christ carrying His Cross. (French Bible. Bibl. Imp., Paris.
But the fittest part taken by the holy and submissive mother of
the Lord, if seen upon the road at all, is not as the mother only
after the flesh, vainly endeavouring to save her offspring, but as
the first and firmest believer in His mission — she who kept His
sayings in her heart, and at His first miracle showed no surprise ;
who knew that He had i a baptism to be baptized with, and was
straitened till it should be accomplished ' (Luke xii. 50). In a
picture by Girolamo di Santa Croce (painted in 1520), in the
Berlin Gallery, our Lord is seen bearing His Cross, followed only
by Pilate and a soldier ; His Mother, St. John, and the Maries,
stand looking on by the road side as much in awe as in sympathy,
as if knowing that Hemust be doing His Father's business, unaided
and almost unpitied by them. This agrees with a tradition
embodied in the Sacro Monte at Varallo, that the Virgin ascended
the Mount of Calvary by a shorter way than her Son, and that
meeting about half-way up, He turned and said to her, ' Salve,
Mater ! '
Mrs. Jameson in her ' History of the Madonna,' mentions a tra-
dition that the Virgin and her customary companions witnessed the
dreadful scene from a rock overlooking the way, and that she there
fainted from the violence of her anguish. This is more consistent
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 113
with propriety and probability. We know that the Virgin and St.
John must that day have trodden the way from the gates of Jeru-
salem to Calvary. At the same time, St. John's extreme reticence
of description seems especially intended to show us that they were
only spectators to our Lord's first going forth.
One other conception in which the Virgin is introduced into this
subject is where she appears alone with her Divine Son. This,
which goes under the name of the ' Madre Addolorata, is more
strictly one of her sorrows, and has a consistency which justifies it
to the eye. There is no attempt at the real story. No one is there
but the martyred Son and the compassionating Mother. He is
fallen — a type of the sacrifice — and she sits by with folded hands,
agonised but resigned.
But the Bearing of the Cross, like all the other subjects of our
Lord's life, was not frequent with the masters of the loth and 16th
centuries. A Veronese painter, who died young, Paolo Morando,
called Cavazzuola (born 1491), has left, among the few works that
show his surpassing excellence, a Bearing of the Cross, now in the
gallery at Verona (woodcut, No. 169, over leaf). This conception is
one of the few which realise the Scriptural and historical picture
to the mind. Simon is here in his suitable character, and no
euperadded incident diverts the eye from the chief figure.
Sebastian del Piombo has also treated the subject. The Christ
is only seen half-length, the ends of the Cross going out of the
picture. Two soldiers are with Him — no other figures — one of
them is evidently beckoning to Simon to come and help, and the
Saviour's head is bowed with exhaustion.
Giorgione has treated this subject, also in half-length figures,
thus keeping the Christ prominent. One of the soldiers is
striking Him on the neck. This may be attributable to the
morbid source supplied to these times by the < Revelations ' of
St. Brigitta, which have left their traces on many scenes of our
Lord's sufferings executed after the 14th century. The Virgin,
being interrogated by St. Brigitta, says, < My Son, going to the
place of His Passion, was struck by some in the neck, by others in
the face.'
Thus far our Lord is seen bearing His Cross erect. As time
progressed, however, the idea of His human sufferings began to be
VOL. II. Q
114
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Christ carrying the Cross. (Paolo Moraudo. Verona Gallery.)
more brought forward than that of His free sacrifice. His attitude
gradually undergoes a change. He no longer moves lightly and
gladly beneath His self-chosen load, signs of failing strength
appear, and He staggers under the Cross. In a picture by Raphael,
formerly in the Orleans Gallery, now at Mr. Miles', of Leigh Court,
this is strikingly seen. The figure is unsteady, and the moment
when its equilibrium will be lost is fast approaching. The Virgin
is seen fainting behind Him, but her Son has hardly strength to
turn His head towards her. As a next step to this, Raphael was one
of the first in Italian Art who represented our Lord sinking to the
ground. This is seen in the celebrated picture of the Spasimo, at
Madrid, engraved in Mrs. Jameson's i Madonna.' The incident of
our Lord's supporting Himself on a stone with one hand is supposed
to have been taken from an engraving by Albert Diirer. Raphael
CHRIST BEARING HIS CROSS. 115
may have taken the whole idea of the fallen Christ from the
German engravers, for Martin Schon, who preceded Albert Diirer,
has it ; or it may have been adopted by him and them from the
Byzantine school, which thus dictates to the painter, ' Le Christ
epuise, tornbe a terre, et s'appuie d'une main.'
It has been observed that all the Evangelists are alike signi-
ficantly silent upon the immediate cause which led the soldiers to
compel the services of Simon. The interpretation, however, which
the Greek and Roman Churches have given to this silence are so
little favourable to the cause of Art, that in this sense, and not as
a question of controversy, which would be misplaced here, we
venture to comment upon it. All events in our Lord's life have,
we know, both a direct and typical meaning. Such an event as
His bearing His Cross is not only one of the most solemn, but,
for daily example, the most necessary of types. It seems strange,
therefore, to fill up the silence of Scripture by a contradiction to
the whole spirit of the subject. For, if our Lord fell beneath His
Cross, what becomes of the type and of the lesson ? Who shall
bear the cross He lays on them, if He could not bear that which He
freely took Himself! It is a narrow judgment which insists on
tying Art slavishly to the truth of facts, but Art herself forfeits
her vocation if she voluntarily violates truth of character. What
is Christ's unvarying teaching ? < Take up thy cross and follow
ine.' And what is His example too? It is not too much to say
that the painter who should make Him succumbing in the Temp-
tation would be not farther from the moral truth than he who
presents the false and discouraging image to the eye of His falling
beneath His Cross. Nor do the early Fathers make the slightest
allusion to an incident so inconsistent with the life and doctrine of
Christ. It was not till the 14th century that a suggestion is made
by Nicolas de Lira, a Franciscan monk, as to the cause of sum-
moning Simon, which offers, at all events, a solution consistent
with our Lord's character —viz. , that Christ, exhausted with fasting,
watching, sorrow, and ill-usage, proceeded too slowly on the way
to Calvary for the impatience of His guards. In the course of the
Crucifixion we see various indications that they were tired of their
office, and wanted to hurry on the end ; they therefore hailed the
help of one whom they could coerce. Art is not without her
116 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
witnesses to this idea. The small Netherlandish drawings in the
British Museum, before mentioned, show Christ proceeding labori-
ously, and even awkwardly, along; while the chief soldier is
evidently and impatiently hailing one, unseen to us, who is coming
in the distance.
Also in Sebastian del Piombo's picture, to which we have alluded,
which contains but two attendant figures, one of them, with a
gesture of impatience, is calling to some one without the picture.
To return, however, to the strangely false conception adopted by
the Church in the 15th and 16th centuries, and which even in the
ablest hands never fails to degrade our Lord's Person to the eye,
Raphael's picture, called the Spasimo, is an example of what may
be called the more moderate abuse of the truth. Christ is also by
no means the principal figure here, but rather the Virgin, whose
anguish gives perhaps the highest idea of earthly sorrow that
was ever conceived. Otherwise, the picture is in many respects
displeasing.
This view of our Lord falling, having obtained that impetus which
belongs to all degraded forms, did not stop where Raphael placed
it, The figure gradually sinks lower and lower. Andrea Sacchi, for
instance, shows Him fallen on both knees. Domenichino, in the
Stafford Gallery, represents Him prone, with both hands on the
ground (woodcut, No. 170) — the beautiful sentiment of His never
quitting hold of His Cross quite abandoned ; while Tiepolo, the last
of the Italians, reaches the climax of irreverent extravagance by
throwing our Lord on His back under a cross which three men
could not have lifted. (The consideration of the ' Stations ' — the
ne plus ultra of violence, and therefore of bad Art — will be found at
the end of this chapter.) So completely had the Church impressed
on the popular mind that our Saviour succumbed beneath His Cross,
that even on occasions where the painter's intention was to inculcate
the doctrine of the Christian's carrying his cross, the Lord is
brought in falling beneath His own. This is seen in one of Hoffer's
masterly engravings. The text is, 6 Who does not take up his cross
and follow me, is not worthy of me.' We see in this engraving a
crowd of human sinners, struggling to carry their respective crosses
— struggling in sorrow and sickness ; the poor one-legged com-
petitor for everlasting life, though weeping with pain and fatigue,
CHRIST FALLEN BENEATH THE CROSS.
ir
170
Christ fallen beneath the Cross. (Domenichino. Stafford Gallery.)
being sure to reach the goal. All are getting on as they can ; many
crosses are already thrown down, but among those still holding on,
none of them have, apparently, so little chance of success as our
Lord Himself, who, instead of marching triumphantly at the head,
the great Captain of our salvation, is sunk on His knees, and soiling
His Cross with the support of earth.
To return to the incidents which legend has added to this scene.
Towards the end of the 15th century, the presence of the Virgin
was occasionally accompanied, but far oftener replaced, by another
female personage, who from this time plays a prominent part in
this subject. We mean St. Veronica, of whom it is told that,
issuing from her house when our Lord passed on His way to
Calvary, she gave Him her veil wherewith to wipe His face, which
our Lord returned to her with His image miraculously impressed
upon it. This is the sudarium, or cloth which wiped the sweat
from His face, and not to be confounded with the vera Icon, sus-
tained by St. Veronica or by angels, the history of which is given
in the Introduction. St. Veronica enters the scene in Italiar. Art,
while Christ is still proceeding erect under His burden, and is less
118
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
an intrusion to the eye in that form ; but she is far more gener-
ally associated with the later-conceived fallen figure of Christ.
Occasionally the incident of the soldier repulsing the Virgin is
transferred to the saint, as in a picture above mentioned by Andrea
Sacchi, where it is difficult not
to take part with the soldier
against a troublesome woman
so much out of her place. We
give an illustration of the figure
of the saint from this picture
(No. 171). For, however touch-
ing the legend which describes
her as the very woman cured
by our Lord of the malady of
twelve years' standing, and
meeting and ministering to
Him in His sore distress, it is
precisely because Art has so
^ very seldom preserved the idea
— TH7^ : conveyed by this legend, that
Sfc Veronica. (Andrea Sacchi.) tll6 figure of the importunate
saint is felt to be a discord in
the pathetic piece. She is generally given besetting our Lord like
a troublesome creditor ; while He looks up at her, pale and worn,
as if to say, Am I not burdened enough already ? Nothing, indeed,
can be more theatrical than this figure, kneeling with her back to
the spectator, in a studied attitude, displaying her acquisition, and
conveying any idea but that of having assisted the suffering
Saviour. In this respect, those later masters, who flung aside con-
ventions, were more likely to make her a living reality. A picture
by Rubens, in the Brussels Gallery, shows her in the act of wiping
the distressed and Divine countenance; and thus, however fictitious
the fact, becomes a touching reality to the eye..
The third version of this subject is one in which the legendary
incidents which encumber our Lord's way may be said to be ampli-
fied rather than changed. The scene is extended, and the figures
multiplied, so as more to represent the modern idea conveyed by
the words, ( Procession to Calvary.' The foreground is occupied
171
PROCESSION TO CALVARY. 119
by a concourse of people surrounding the Sufferer, while the
advanced guard (if it may be so called) of the procession, consist-
ing of horsemen and others escorting the thieves, are seen making
their way through various planes of distance, and leading the eye
to Calvary itself, an elevated spot marked by three crosses ; thus
involving the not uncommon liberty of a double representation.
This composition, whether representing our Lord as fallen or erect,
is usually very low in conception, and gives rather the picture of a
rabble rout going to execute lynch law than that of a scene in
which, at all events, there were the formalities of military order.
One of the earliest examples is by Martin Schon. The Saviour has
fallen, and His head only is seen under the Cross, like that of an
animal under the bars of a cage. All the crowd around Him seem
animated with personal fury ; hard-hearted old age, scarcely able
to keep pace, hobbling after, and malicious childhood gambolling
before — both alike viciously greedy of sights of suffering — are a
terrible comment upon the character of the time.
This conception, in which nothing is distinguishable except a
scene of violence, and which amounts frequently to above a hundred
figures, was also popular with the later Italians. Domenico Cam-
pagnola treated it, and Annibale Carracci. It is occasionally ac-
companied by women with compassionate gestures, holding infants
in their arms, who are the proper representations of the Daughters
of Jerusalem. Sometimes the body of Judas is seen hanging on a
tree by the way. In such scenes the Virgin is occasionally placed,
by the better taste of the painter, in the distance, though often, as
also St. Veronica, mixed up with the rabble.
The impression produced by this class of picture is less unpleasant,
because less profane, when the painter merges entirely into common
life, so as to make us forget the proper character of the incident
in the observation of the life and humour characteristic of his
own times. As, for instance, in a picture by Peter Breughel the
younger, in the Berlin Museum, which represents an orderly proces-
sion of German horsemen of the beginning of the 17th century,
with the thieves seated ruefully in a cart with their hands tied be-
hind them, and a friar sitting on the bench opposite, exhorting them
to repentance. This is merely a picture of the manner in which
criminals were taken to the cruel executions of that day, with our
120 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Lord's figure — of rio indecorous character, walking erect beneath
His Cross, with soldiers about Him, and St. Veronica kneeling before
— brought in as a necessary feature to give the piece a name.
THE STATIONS.
Lat. Via Crucis. Ital. Via Dolorosa.
HAVING thus given a sketch of the various forms into which the
Bearing of the Cross grew and lapsed, we must now refer to one
of comparatively late adoption in which it is still maintained as a
necessary accessory in every Roman Catholic place of worship.
No matter how remote the village, or poor the edifice, we always
observe certain representations, either in the form of painted sculp-
ture, oil pictures, or of plain or coloured engravings, affixed either
to the walls or upon the pillars of the nave. In earlier days these
were usually seven in number; they now amount to fourteen.
They represent the way to Calvary through which the believer is
typically supposed to enter into the inner and holier part of the
Church, and have always descriptive titles written in the language
of the country. When seven in number, the subjects are as
follows : —
1. Jesus Christ bearing His Cross.
The legend says that He here leant against the wall of a house,
and left on it the impress of His shoulder.
2. Jesus falls for the first time.
3. Jesus meets His Blessed Mother.
4. Jesus falls for the second time.
5. Jesus meets St. Veronica.
6. Jesus falls for the third time.
7. Entombment.
When fourteen in number, the subjects are thus arranged : — -
1 . Jesus is condemned.
2. Jesus takes the Cross.
3. Jesus falls for the first time.
4. Jesus meets His Blessed Mother.
5. Simon the Cyrenian appears.
6. Jesus meets St. Veronica.
7. Jesus falls for the second time.
3. The Daughters of Jerusalem.
9. Jesus falls for the third time.
10. Jesus is stripped of His garments.
11. Jesus is nailed on the Cross.
12. Jesus dies on the Cross.
13. Is laid in the arms of His Blessed
Mother.
14. Entombment.
THE STATIONS. 121
These same representations are associated also with reminiscences
of sweet Italian landscapes, on the borders of lakes or rivers ; being
seen, each enshrined in a tiny chapel, or affixed to a stone pillar
dotting the zig-zag path to some loftily situated church or crucifix,
and inviting the pilgrim to rest as well as pray at each. Or the
traveller sees them in Northern countries tracking the miniature
way to some mimic Calvary, an artificial eminence raised against the
walls of a church, as in the Dominican church at Antwerp.
As the subjects of the Eosary — the joys and sorrows of the
Virgin — in great measure superseded the direct representation of
the Passion as a series, especially in Italy, so this amplification of
our Lord's painful progress to Calvary grew in its turn out of the
subjects of the Rosary. The idea would seem to have originated
at Jerusalem, where every piece of ground possibly connected with
the scenes of our Lord's sufferings, including the imaginary
localities of the Parables, have, since the 15th century, been
encumbered with all that can most disturb and distort the sacred
associations of the place. The road by which our Lord is supposed
to have proceeded to Calvary has been especially overtaken by the
same fate. It is tracked by a zig-zag series of buildings and arches,
meant to illustrate the story, like a catalogue raisonne, starting
from the so-called ' Arch of the Ecce Homo ' up to the supposed
site of Golgotha.
The first importation of the ' Stations ' into Europe is attributed
to a citizen of "Nuremberg, who, returning home in 1477 from a
pilgrimage to the Holy City, with the intention of imitating in his
native town the scenes of the Via Dolorosa, discovered that he had
lost the measurements he had taken of these holy places. He repeated
his pilgrimage and repaired his loss, and returning again in 1488,
employed Adam Kraft, the friend of Albert Diirer, to execute seven
stations, which should start from his own dwelling. These consist
of seven sculptured reliefs placed on stone pillars, which proceed
from the Thiergartner Gate of the city of Nuremberg to the Church
of St John, and terminate in a Crucifixion. They still exist, though
in a dilapidated condition, and furnish one of the few examples of
the treatment of this series by a master's hand. It stands to reason
that little variety, except in degrees of violence, can be extracted
from such subjects. There is, therefore, no temptation to give more
VOL. II. K
122 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
than a short description, which we may preface by the assurance
that Adam Kraft's reliefs are less exaggerated in character than
most representations of the subject.
1. Our Lord is seen stumbling with bent knees beneath a large
Cross ; His hands, with which He holds it, are bound together
with ropes. A rope is round His waist, held by a ruffian in the act
of striking Him with a club, while another in front lifts a stick.
On one side stands the Virgin, sinking into the arms of her
attendants.
2. Our Lord is here sinking to the ground, being pulled up before
by the rope, and behind by His hair. Two men are apparently
forcing Simon, with jocular expression, to undertake his task. He
is in form of an old man with weak, bending frame, who lifts the
end of the stem of the Cross, and thus throws the weight more on
to the Lord.
3. Our Lord fronts the spectator, and is apparentty pausing, while
He turns and looks at His Mother, who, with clasped hands, seems
about to faint again. Simon has disappeared. The same violence is
continued. A club is descending on the Saviour's head ; one figure
pulls Him by the hair, another by the rope and sleeves.
4. Our Lord is again sinking. Before Him stands St. Veronica,
with the door of a house behind her, holding her miraculous cloth,
which one of our Lord's bound hands is in the act of returning to
her. As He could not have lifted His hands thus bound without
dropping His Cross, the legend is here doubly miraculous. The
same violence continues.
5. The Saviour has sunk still lower, and four figures are mal-
treating Him with clubs, sticks, fists, and pulling of hair.
6. Our Lord lies full-length beneath the Cross ; one man with
both hands pulls Him by the hair, a second by the rope, and a third
by the sleeves (woodcut, ISTo. 172). Being thus dragged up on oppo-
site sides of the superincumbent Cross, it becomes physically impos-
sible for Him to rise.
7. Entombment.
All these scenes are represented under the figures of coarse
Nuremberg men and women, in the costume of the 15th century.
The reader has now had too much of this wretched phase of so
beautiful a subject, and will not wonder that real Art should have
THE STATIONS.
123
172
Christ fallen beneath the Ci'oss. (.Station pillar. Nuremberg.)
been shy of it. It bore contemptible fruits in such Art as it has
generally enlisted, and there are no objects which the eye shuns
more instinctively than this never-failing series in the nave of a
Roman Catholic church.
124 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST STRIPPED OF His GARMENTS.
Ital. jCristo spogliato,
THERE are certain self-understood passages in these last moments
of our Lord's life, of which Scripture, with its sense of what was
really important for a Christian to know, says nothing. Such
incidents, however, when they present an edifying or touching
image to the mind's eye, are perfectly justifiable as subjects for Art,
which has diiferent conditions to those of narrative, and no liberty
is taken with the truth in thus filling up its interstices. Such a
case is the disrobing of our Lord in preparation for the Cross.
Being out of the usual routine of the subjects of the Passion, it fell
under no conventional treatment, and is therefore, in the few
instances in which we see it, a fresher expression than usual of the
mind of the artist, and to be regarded as in some sort a reverential
desire to delay the fatal act. No one can think of these last
moments, in which our Lord divested Himself of those coverings of
humanity which are the first and last tokens of social life, without
feeling the pathos of which the subject was capable. It was treated
by two great early painters. We find it in Giotto, in the predella
to a picture in the Uffizj at Florence, and nowhere more pathetically
rendered. We give an illustration of the two principal figures (No.
173).
Fra Angelico also has the subject in his series in the Acca-
demia. Each of these masters accompany this incident by other
acts significant of the impending tragedy. In Giotto the base of
the Cross is seen behind, standing in the ground, while a figure
with a large hammer is driving in the wedges which make it more
secure. In Fra Angelico's representation, the coat of our Lord,
6 without a seam, woven from top to bottom,' is already in the
hands of the soldiers, and it is His under garment, out of the sleeve
of which, by a simple action, He is gently drawing His left arm.
The casting lots for the garment is here given peculiarly, because
more truthfully than usual. A soldier standing with his eyes shut,
CHRIST STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS.
125
173
Christ Stripped of His Garments. (Giotto.)
as was the custom, on drawing lots, is taking a lot out of the tall
dice-cup held to him by another ; each have a hand on the garment,
while an old soldier behind holds up his finger, as if watching that
all is fair.
The contrast between these two conceptions and that by Holbein ,
in his nine drawings of the Passion,1 is curious. Here all is viol-
ence on the one part, and helpless, even abject misery, on the other.
Our Lord is awkwardly kneeling, half on and half off the Cross,
while two brutal figures are pulling His garment over His head.
The crown of thorns lies on the ground — an incident taken from St.
Brigitta, who, in her visions, saw it taken off, and then replaced
when our Lord was on the Cross. The subject is also seen in early
German woodcuts in the British Museum, but treated with that
1 Seven of these are in the British Museum. The series is engraved in a work pub-
lished by Chrdtien de Mechel, 1780. Basle : chez Guillaume Haas, Typographe.
126
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
degrading ugliness and exaggeration for which the term i realistic '
is a misplaced compliment.
THE VIRGIN WRAPPING THE LINEN CLOTH ROUND OUR SAVIOUR'S
BODY.
THIS is another incident with which Art lingers out these last
moments. If it does not claim our assent, like the last, as to a fact
174
The Virgin binding the Cloth round Christ. (Cologne Museum.
which must have happened, it obtains our sympathy on grounds
which only a very morbid delicacy could criticise. It is a fiction,
like other passages we have considered in the part taken by the
Virgin in the Passion, but this time a fiction not at variance with
the beauty of her character, and therefore harmonious and touching
when seen in Art. This subject is rarely seen, but may be traced
to a passage from a dialogue on the Passion of our Lord, much after
the fashion of St. Brigitta's i Revelations,' by one Dionysius a
Hichel, a Carthusian, who makes the Virgin say, * Panniculum
capitis mei circumligavi lumbis ejus ' (' I wrapt His loins round
OUR LORD IS OFFERED THE CUP TO DRINK. 127
with the cloth from my head '). An early and large Franconian
picture in the Berlin Museum (No. 1197 B), by Hans Holbein the
father, is the only important instance we know. It represents the
Virgin in the act of binding this covering round our Lord after His
disrobing ; the Son given back to the Mother for the last exercise ol
a Mother's privilege, and both weeping. It is ugly and rude in
point of Art, and the person of our Saviour is marred all over in
the exaggerated mode of the time ; nevertheless, the sentiment is
overpoweringly pathetic, and places Hans Holbein's father above
himself in point of feeling. Our illustration (No. 174) is from the
background of a picture in the Cologne Gallery. The subject is
found in miniatures of the same period.
OUR LORD is OFFERED THE CUP TO DRINK,
ANOTHER moment on which Art has found occasion to pause is that
narrated by two of the Evangelists : c They gave Him vinegar to
drink mingled with gall: and when He had tasted thereof, He
would not drink ' (Matt, xxvii. 34).
< And they gave Him to drink wine mingled with myrrh : but He
received it not' (Mark xv. 23.)
The slight difference in these sentences has led some commen-
tators to suppose that two different liquids were offered. But the
general feeling has pronounced them to have been one and the same ;
the vinegar being probably the common wine always at hand in
warm climates for the use of the soldiery — the same of which it is
said in St. John, at a later moment, * Now there was set a vessel
full of vinegar.' The intention of this draught is, however, less
clear. By some, it is believed to have been a bitter restorative
given by Roman custom to those condemned to the death on the
cross ; by others, a merciful potion contributed by humane, honour-
able women of Jerusalem to deaden their sufferings. For whatever
purpose prepared, our Lord only tasted it, but ' would not drink.'
The subject is also rare. It occurs in the series of the Passion by
Lucas van Leyden, and also in a miniature in the gallery of the
Ambrogian Library. These two instances are similar in arrange-
128
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
ment. One man, offering the cup to our Lord, is holding Him by
the hair, and trying to force Him to drink. Another stands by
with a jug. The Cross lies beside Him. We give an illustration
from Lucas van Ley den's etching (No. 175). Another picture of
175
Ofl'e ring the Yinegar. (Lucas van Leyden.)
this subject, in the Ertborn collection at Antwerp (No. 69), has a
nun kneeling in front, presented by St. Ambrose : the Virgin and
St. John are seated in the middle distance. This is a wretched
caricature.
CHRIST ASCENDING THE CROSS.
129
CHRIST ASCENDING THE CROSS.
THIS is so rarely seen, that no known master can be quoted as having
attempted it. It occurs in a series of miniatures of the Life and
17t!
Christ Ascending the Cross. (Italian miniature. 13th century).
Passion of the Lord, of the 13th century, belonging to the writer,
from which our illustration is taken (No. 176). Also in a finely
preserved enamel1 of the 13th century, containing the Crucifixion
in the centre, and eight subjects, some of them of unusual selection,
around ; our Lord is in the act of being helped, not ungently, up
the ladder by two figures. The Cross, like all early crosses, is
1 Belonged, in June 1861, to Mr. Farrer, of 106 New Bond Street.
\fOL. II. S
130 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
short, so that one figure stands on the ground, and the other on a
kind of high stool behind. A third figure is driving in wedges, to
strengthen the Cross in the ground.
OUR LORD BEING NAILED TO THE CROSS.
Ital. L'Inchiodazione.
AND now Art can no longer delay the last and only less terrible
scene before the final suspension on the Cross. Scripture, again,
is as sparing of its words as it is simply great in the art of narra-
tive, giving us the bare fact without description of manner, or
comment of pity or horror : ' And they crucified Him.' Nothing
could be said that would not weaken the effect of these words. It
is only when Art attempts to bring their ineffable meaning before
the eye that she necessarily supplies the manner and awakens the
comment. The subject is not frequent, though often enough given
to afford materials for comparison.
It appears that the early writers all inclined to the more probable
opinion, since confirmed by historical evidence of the custom in
such cases, that our Lord was attached to the Cross while it lay on
the ground. St. Buonaventura (born 1221, canonised 1482)
states, on the other hand, that our Lord ascended a ladder, and
was nailed to the Cross standing. St. Brigitta, in her visions, saw
both modes. The impress of each opinion is seen in Art — that
of our Lord ascending the ladder to the Cross being the earliest ;
that of His extending himself on it on the ground the most fre-
quent.
An engraving in D'Agincourt (' Pittura,' pi. xcvi.), from the
frescoes in the since destroyed Church of S. Paolo-fuori-le-Mura at
Rome, gives a strange conception of the same subject. There is
no ladder, but our Lord is being nailed to the Cross, partly upheld
by a figure standing on an elevation at His side. One hand is
attached, and a figure with an instrument, intended to guard the
limb from the blow, is driving the nail into one foot The figure
OUR LORD BEING NAILED TO THE CROSS.
supporting Him is affectionately reverential, and the presence of
the sun and moon, and the absence of the crown of thorns, denote
an early period. D'Agincourt places it in the llth century, but
it is believed to belong to the 13th. We give an illustration (No.
177).
The Nailing to the Cross. (D'Agincourt.
Another small woodcut in D'Agincourt (pi. ciii.), from an Italian
miniature of the 12th or 13th century, shows an immensely lofty
cross, with a long ladder placed against it, and the procession to
Calvary just arrived at the foot Angels are already seen weeping
above.
Fra Angelico is perhaps the only painter of note who has treated
this view of the subject. The Cross is upright, and our Lord and
His crucifiers are standing on ladders. We annex an illustration
(No. 178, over leaf). All Fra Angelico's ruffians are sheep in
wolves' clothing. The action of the figure who takes the left hand
132
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
to draw it to its place is tenderly respectful, while his eyes at the
same time gaze with compassion on the sorrowing Virgin below.
On the other hand, the earliest representations we have seen
of the recumbent figure being fastened to the Cross are in very
rude German woodcuts of the 13th century in the British
The Nailing to the Cross. (Fra Angelico.)
Museum. Here the influence of further details from the visions
of St. Brigitta is seen. She narrates that holes were first bored
at the ends of the Cross; that our Lord then laid Himself upon
it, and first gave His blessed right hand. This being nailed into
the hole thus provided, the executioners found that the space
OUR LORD BEING NAILED TO THE CROSS. 133
between the two opposite holes was too wide for the left hand to
reach. They therefore attached a rope to the arm, and stretched
it till the hand came to the requisite spot. This cruel invention
of a morbid mind is exactly given in these woodcuts. Our Lord
is lying on the Cross, with His right hand already nailed, and a
noose round the left wrist, at which two men are pulling, while
a third lifts the hammer to strike. The feet are also bound
to the Cross by ropes above the ankle, preparatory to piercing
them.
A very curious picture of the ' Inchiodazione,' of Flemish
character, belongs to Mr. Layard ; it was exhibited in the British
Institution in 1862. The belief that our Lord was first bound by
ropes to the Cross is seen in other instances. D'Agincourt gives a
small woodcut (pi. xcvii.) where the Cross is seen erect, and our
Lord nailed to it, and also still bound to it by ropes twined round
every part of His Person. Two figures are hanging to the ropes,
untwisting them. This subject of the ' Inchiodazione ' also occurs
in the ' Speculum Salvationis.' We give an illustration (No.
179, over leaf), the invention of which is more refined than the
execution. Luini has the subject in the dark church behind the
Monasterio Maggiore, at Milan. Albert Diirer has also treated
this scene, divested of all gratuitous painfulness. Our Lord is
lying on the Cross, with one hand already in the grasp of His
executioners. The other lies calmly across Him. His sacred
Person is still inviolate from the nail, but the hammer is uplifted,
and the eye turns away.
The unutterable pathos of this scene is enhanced by the sup-
position, entertained by some commentators, that the prayer of
divinest pity and love, i Father, forgive them, they know not what
they do,' was uttered while in the act of being pierced by the nails.
The tense in which this is spoken — ' they know not what they do '
— justifies this idea.
The same instinct to recoil from the act, and yet approach its
very brink, is seen in Gaudenzio Ferrari, who takes it back a
moment earlier. This is a fresco, the 17th compartment in the
church at Varallo. Our Lord, divested of His garments, is
kneeling with folded hands beside the recumbent instrument of
our salvation. The thieves stand behind Him with bound hands.
134
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The Nailing to the Cross. (Speculum. M. Berjeau.)
Next the Saviour, and looking at Him with downcast, pitying eye,
stands one of those ' daughters of Jerusalem whom Gaudenzio
makes so pathetically beautiful. She holds a little child by the
hand, who, by an apparent accident, is standing unconsciously on
the very centre of the Cross ; thus prefiguring the innocence of the
Victim about to be laid on it.
THE ELEVATION OF THE CBOSS.
THE crucifying, properly speaking, of our Lord, has now taken
place ; but the tremendous spectacle of the Crucifixion is not yet
before us. The elevation of the Cross comes between. It is a later
subject in Art, being reserved for times of greatly diminished
earnestness of feeling, but equally developed powers of anatomical
©IF <DI&<Q5S&
THE ELEVATION OF THE CROSS. 135
drawing. Stalwart figures — as many, sometimes, as eight or nine
in number — are seen raising the Cross with their arms, or pulling
simultaneously the ropes attached to it, like seamen hoisting a sail.
Figures on horseback direct the act. Daughters of Jerusalem look
on. The Cross on which our Lord is extended slopes across the
picture, and is intended to fall into a hole in the earth prepared to
receive it. and to which the efforts of some of the figures are direct--
ing it. This is supposed to have been the actual mode by which all
crosses were raised and placed upright ; the sudden fall of the lower
end into the hole causing terrible suffering to the victim. Rubens'
Elevation of the Cross, in the cathedral at Antwerp, presents the
grandest type of the subject. We give an etching from the centre
compartment. This subject has been treated by painters of the
17th and 18th centuries — by Van Dyck, Lebrun, Largilliere, and
Jouvenet. The thieves are sometimes represented as already cruci-
fied— sometimes as awaiting their doom.
136 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE CRUCIFIXION.
Ital. La Crocifissione. Fr. Le Crucifiement. Le Christ en Croix.
Germ. Die Kreuzigung. Christus am Kreuze.
THE road we have gradually traversed, chequered with alternate
rays from heaven and stains of earth, the brightest and deepest
of each, now terminates with terrible consistency in that sacrifice
and crime of which the Crucifixion is the great symbol and picture.
No one studying religious Art, and, far more, attempting to write
upon it, but must draw near this scene with an equal sense of its
awfulness and difficulty. In every form, from the plainest to the
most complex, whether as the simple and solemn mystery of human
redemption — as the crime against the Creator from which nature
recoiled — the earth yawning, and the sun withdrawing its light —
as the great tragedy which excited the anguish of angels — as the
type of the sacrifice, transferred from the Synagogue to the Church
— or merely as the historical event, teeming with human sorrow,
suffering, passion, and violence — the eye but too well knows the
terrible subject of the Crucifixion. Unmistakeable at a glance, it
rears itself up before us, having for centuries enlisted every kind
of Art, and every class of the artist mind ; a monument of the
faith which weighed no considerations of Art in its prescription
of such a scene, and a trophy of the Art which relied unquestioning
on faith to redeem the unfitness of such a scene for representation
— the last thing to which classic Art would have devoted its
powers, and by no means the first thing which Christian Art
ventured to bring -before the sight; which needed the lapse of
centuries of prejudice and timidity before it could be represented
at all, but which, setting forth, as it does, the great culminating
mystery of our faith — the head corner-stone of the theological
temple — f the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world ' —
has since abounded in an hundredfold proportion to every other
form of Scripture representation. No subject in the whole cycle
of Art is seen under such peculiar conditions as the Crucifixion.
THE CRUCIFIXION. 137
Two causes prevent our viewing it, even if we would, through the
medium of common and absolute reality : the reverence of ages,
which has invested what is supposed to have been the most
dreadful form of death with sanctity, and the disuse of ages, which
has consigned its horrors to oblivion. Art furnishes a third
cause ; for she herself refuses to bring this scene within the
conditions of reality. However common and real the other
features of the picture, however distorted the figure on the Cross
under the disfiguring influence of Byzantine feeling, that figure
is always more or less a convention, or the eye could not look
upon it.
The Crucifixion is not one of the subjects of earl}' Christianity.
The death of our Lord was represented, as we have seen, by various
types — the sacrifice of Isaac, the death of Abel, &c.— but never in
its actual form. A picture of the Crucifixion in the Catacombs is
supposed to be of the llth century. The Art of the first centuries,
animated only by the still existing energy of classic feeling, repu-
diated a subject so utterly at variance with all its principles of
physical beauty and mental repose. Nor could the Christian of
that time be supposed to gaze with befitting feelings on a scene of
which the terror and ignominy were still a reality: while both
these reasons received a stronger impulse from the fact of the
blasphemous derision cast on the subject by the Romans, to which
Tertullian alludes, and of which a surviving proof has been found
in the recent excavations beneath the Palace of the Caesars at
Rome.
The pictorial history of the Crucifix and the Crucifixion — the
one the image, the other more or less the scene — overlap one
another. It is probable that the Crucifix takes the earliest place.
The step from the one to the other, however, was natural, while
the fuller imagery of the Crucifixion probably reacted on the
Crucifix, and led to that amplified form of it in metal, enamel, or
ivory, which makes it a full picture rather than a solitary image.
The Crucifix will be described farther on. Future labourers in
this field of inquiry may be able to point out the probable earliest
date of the representation of the Crucifixion, strictly so called, but
the question of date is, for the present, far too obscure for any
decisions on that head to be ventured upon here, the object being
VOL. II. T
138 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
rather to define what constitutes the character of an early Cruci-
fixion than its precise period. All larger forms of Art in which
this subject may have been rendered — such as wall-paintings and
sculpture — the former especially, not improbably executed under
Charlemagne, the chapel of whose palace at Ober-Ingelheim, on
the Rhine, is known to have been adorned with scenes from the
Old and New Testament — all such have yielded to the destructive
influence of time. The earliest instances of the Crucifixion, there-
fore, are found in objects of a scale more favourable for pre-
servation— in illuminated manuscripts of various countries, and
in those ivory and enamelled forms which are described in the
Introduction. Some of these are ascertained, by historical or by
internal evidence, to have been executed in the 9th century —
there is one also, of an extraordinary rude and fantastic character,
in a MS. in the ancient Library of St. Galle, which is asserted to
be of the 8th century. At all events, there seem no just grounds
at present for assigning any earlier date. Till the 9th century,
and later still, the influence of classic Art still lingered — if feebly
in execution, yet decidedly in that form of abstract conception
which expressed itself in symbolic signs and figures : thus favour-
ing the reverence with which such a theme as the Crucifixion
was approached. Nevertheless, it is impossible not to feel how
wide is the space which lies between the Christ enthroned on
the Rainbow, upborne by angels, and holding the universe in
His hand — a subject of very remote date — and the most abstract
and reverential representation of the Christ hanging upon the
Cross.
VARIOUS CLASSES OF THE CRUCIFIXION. 139
VARIOUS CLASSES OF THE CRUCIFIXION.
THERE is no portion of our Lord's history which the four Evan-
gelists have divided so strikingly among them, and which is so
incomplete, as a fact or a picture, without their combined narra-
tives, as the Crucifixion. All say that our Lord was crucified —
that a superscription, describing Him as the King of the Jews, was
put over His head — that two malefactors or thieves were crucified
with Him — and that the soldiers parted His garments. But St.
Matthew and St. Mark alone tell the mockings addressed to Him
by the chief priests and people, while He hung on the Cross ; St.
Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke, that the sun was darkened,
and the veil of the Temple rent ; St. Matthew only, that the graves
were opened, and the dead arose ; St. Luke only, the episode of
the good thief; St. John only, that the Virgin was present and
stood by the Cross, and that our Lord there committed her to
His favourite disciple's care ; and St. John, again, only, that
they brake the legs of the thieves, and pierced the side of the
Saviour.
The great subject for which Scripture thus offers such elaborate
materials is scarcely treated, up to a late period, otherwise than in
a devotional, because a doctrinal sense ; as the accomplishment of
all the types and ceremonies of the Old Law, all prefiguring that
Victim, without the shedding of whose blood there was to be no
remission of sins. We have seen the course of our Lord's life on
earth faithfully reflected in Art — how He took upon Himself our
flesh, submitted to the rites of the Old Covenant, suffered tempta-
tion, performed miracles, taught doctrine, ordained Sacraments,
and approached, by slow and painful steps, that Calvary where we
are about to see Him sealing the great work of His mission. This
was the mystery, which Art rendered only the more mysterious by
translating it into a visible form — giving to sight what mere sight
can never understand — strong in the faith which could look exult-
ingly on so terrible and unnatural an image, and say, * This is my
140 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Salvation.' It was long before the subject was approached otherwise
than with the admixture of symbols, types, allegories, and angelic
machinery; or accompanied by prophets of the Old Testament,
who had foretold the Messiah, or by saints of the New Covenant,
who were especial witnesses of the power of the Cross. We say the
admixture of these elements, for one phase of the literal history of
the Crucifixion seldom fails, even in the midst of the most compli-
cated imagety — the figure of the Mother, who stood by the Cross,
and that of the beloved disciple who there received the charge of
her.
Under these circumstances, the conception of the Crucifixion as
the Great Sacrifice, while always devotional in character, includes
within itself many diversities of treatment. The varieties in the
Cross itself, and in the figure stretched thereon, are comparatively
small ; the diversity consists in the treatment of the accessories.
These may be thus generally classed as —
Symbolical, when the abstract personifications of the sun and
moon, earth and ocean, are present.
Sacrifidally symbolical, when the Eucharistic cup is seen below
the Cross, or the pelican feeding her young is placed above it.
Simply doctrinal, when the Virgin and St. John stand on each
side as solemn witnesses, or our Lord is drinking the cup, some-
times literally so represented, given Him of the Father, while the
lance opens the sacramental font.
Historically ideal, as when the thieves are joined to the scene,
and sorrowing angels throng the air.
Historically devotional, as when the real features of the scene are
preserved, and saints and devotees are introduced.
Legendary, as when we see the Virgin fainting.
Allegorical and fantastic, as when the tree is made the principal
object, with its branches terminating in patriarchs and prophets,
virtues and graces.
Realistic, as when the mere event is rendered as through the eyes
of an unenlightened looker on.
These and many other modes of conception account for the great
diversity in the treatment of this subject ; a further variety being
given by the combination of two or more of these modes of treat-
ment together ; for instance, the pelican may be seen above the
THE CRUCIFIXION SYMBOLICALLY TREATED. 141
Cross, giving her life's blood for her offspring ; angels, in attitudes
of despair, bewailing the Second Person of the Trinity, or, in an
ideal sacramental sense, catching the blood from His wounds — the
Jews below looking on, as they really did, with contemptuous
gestures and hardened hearts — the centurion acknowledging that
this was really the Son of God — while the group of the fainting
Virgin, supported by the Maries and St. John, adds legend to
symbolism, ideality, and history.
Most of these forms of treatment, especially the earliest, are
applied only to the single Cross of our Lord ; the addition of the
thieves, though very early, and attended with much ideal circuin
stance, must be considered as partaking more of the historical.
We purpose, therefore, first tracing the single Crucifixion through
its various phases of treatment. In point of time, the examples
present themselves nearly in the order in which we have sketched
them. We take, therefore, first, that of a symbolical and abstract
character.
THE CRUCIFIXION SYMBOLICALLY TREATED.
THE earliest representations of the solemn subject of the Crucifixion,
like those of other passages of our Lord's life, were characterised by
intense reverence of feeling. The Christian of that time was more
reminded of the great fact that Christ died for him, than of the
agonies which accompanied that death. An admirable writer1 says,
' Christian antiquity took great care not to reduce the spectacle of
the humiliations and sufferings of the Man God to a scene of affliction
and tenderness. Art, like the preaching of the great doctors, aimed
to inspire faith more than pity.' The excitements to pity by dwell-
ing exclusively on the bodily sufferings of our Lord were reserved, as
we have seen, for later and less implicitly believing ages, where the
emotions were urged, as they still are, to do the work of principle.
This involved a wide difference in conception, for compassion sees
only helplessness in the Victim, faith only triumphant power.
1 Melanges Archdologiques, vol. i. p. 216.
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Compassion is exemplified by the first verse of Dean Milman's grand
hymn for Good Friday, faith by the second verse : —
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Faint and bleeding, who is He ?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood and writhing limb,
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled, burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dew'd bro\r,
Son of Man ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou .'
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He ?
By the sun at noon-day pale,
Shivering rocks, and rending veil,
By earth that trembles at His doom,
By yonder saints who burst their tomb,
By Eden, promised ere He died
To the felon at His side —
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow,
Son of God ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou !
The earliest artists of the Crucifixion preferred to set forth the God.
Our Lord was shown as triumphant over death, even while enduring-
its worst smart. For, as St. Augustine says, l with the worst death,
He overcame all death.' Like as on the early crucifixes He is repre-
sented as young and beardless, always without the crown of thorns,
not always with the nimbus — alive and erect — apparently elate —
His feet always separate, and with two nails upon the foot-board, or
suppedaneum (a Greek feature), to which they were attached ; the
arm at right angles with the body, the hands straight, the eyes
open. The figure is sometimes draped to the feet and to the wrists : 1
1 Mr. Curzon, one of our highest authorities on these subjects, states that 'before the
llth century the figure was always clothed in a robe.' It appears, from more recent in-
vestigations of authentic crucifixes of the 9th century — for instance, that of the Emperor
Lothario (succeeded 823), of which we give a woodcut under the chapter ' Crucifix ' —
that some were simply attired with a drapery from the hips to the knees. We are
inclined to believe the draped figures of our Lord to be always of Byzantine origin (they
exist chiefly in Greek manuscripts), and that the difficulty of rendering the nude figure is
a clue to its being thus covered. In a legendary sense, however, another cause may be
THE CRUCIFIXION SYMBOLICALLY TREATED. 143
in other examples, the perizonium, or cloth around the loins, extends
to the knees in front, and lower still behind. No signs of bodily
suffering are there, the sublime idea of the voluntary sacrifice is kept
paramount —
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He ?
This * King of Kings,' who, even on the Cross, appeals only to our
awe and adoration, is attended by all that can most denote His
triumph. It is not the physical death of humanity which wrings
His body, but that mysterious death which disturbed the elements
and wrought miracles, which we see in these early forms. It was
the death which spread a pall before the sun: 'Now from the
sixth to the ninth hour there was darkness over all the land ; '
and which convulsed the earth : 6 for the earth did quake and the
rocks were rent ; ' and which summoned the dead from their
sepulchres : ' And the graves were opened, and many bodies of
the saints which slept arose.' These were the accessories of early
Crucifixions — not fainting Virgins, nor wrangling soldiers, nor
even that miracle of grace in the heart of man, the converted
centurion. Art was concerned also in this restriction of sub-
ject. The Crucifixion is too vast a theme to be rendered with any
prominence of the principal idea in one picture. From the earliest
times, therefore, Art laid down the principle of selection, while
the faith of the period dictated in what it was to consist, and
the Art traditions of the time how it was to be expressed. We
see, therefore, the darkness over the whole land symbolised by
the classic images of the sun and moon — the hiding of the
greater planet having of course affected the lesser — on each side
above the Cross. The one, Sol, with rays ; the other, Luna, with
the crescent; or seated in their orbs, surrounded with what are
suggested. Molanus (p. 420) asserts that the Greek Church always covered the Christ
ou the Cross with clothes, in explanation of which he gives the following story. A priest,
who had exhibited to the people a figure of Christ only cinctured with a cloth, was visited
by an apparition which said, 'All ye go covered with various raiment, and me ye show
naked. Go forthwith and cover me with clothing.' The priest, not understanding what
was meant, took no notice, and, on the third day, the vision appeared again, and having
scourged him severely with rods, said, ' Have I not told you to cover me with garments ?
Go now and cover with clothing the picture in which I appear crucified.'
144 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
130 Sun and Moon at Crucifixion. (Ancient ivory.)
meant for clouds, each with the right hand to the cheek, an antique
sign of affliction ; in other instances, in their chariots (woodcut,
No. 180), the sun drawn by horses, the moon, as usual, by oxen.
Or another symbol is chosen, and, instead of Sol and Luna, full-
length figures are seen with reversed torches ; and below the Cross
in the accompanying etching from an ivory (supposed to be of
the 9th century) are seen figures, two or more rising from classic
tombs, and the third emerging from what appears to be water,
showing that the dead shall rise — for this has a general as well
as a particular meaning — from the sea as well as the laud. And,
lower still, are classic personifications of Water and Earth ; the
one a bearded and horned river-god, with a fish or an oar in his
hand, sometimes riding on a dolphin, and with a stream issuing
from his subverted urn; while the figure of Earth, semi-nude,
with a conventionally formed tree at her side, holds a cornucopia,
signifying her abundance, and nurses a serpent at her breast —
this being the symbol of Life, supposed to derive nourishment
from mother Earth. These two figures typify the Elements which
witnessed the scene.
And, leaving things of nature, the symbolism next extends to
institutions divinely appointed on earth. For on the right hand of
the Cross stands a female figure with a banner, looking up at the
Lord ; on the left, another, turning her back with a rebellious ex-
pression. These are the earliest types, afterwards much exaggerated
and debased in character, of the Church and Synagogue. Nor does
the slender vein of actual fact, to which we have already alluded,
Early Tvorv .
THE CRUCIFIXION SYMBOLICALLY TREATED. 145
fail here, for on each side of these allegorical figures stand the
Virgin and St. John, the witnesses, from the earliest known
instances of the Crucifixion, of our Lord's last moments. Each
has the hand raised to the cheek, in token of sorrow; the
Virgin with hers under her drapery, an early Oriental sign of
respect, imported into Italy, where, in certain acts of obeisance to
the pontiff, or on receiving the cardinal's hat, the ecclesiastics
still cover their hands with their garments.1 St. John stands
with the hook, as the theologian in whose gospel the presence of
the Mother and the beloved disciple is alone narrated. Angels
also take part here, either, as in our etching, holding a crown
above the Saviour's head, or hanging headlong above the Cross
in attitudes of anguish. And to complete the ideal and abstract
character of this scene by the indication of the Highest Presence,
the hand of the Father is seen above in the act of benediction, or,
in some instances, holding a crown. For these were the times, as
has been remarked before, when no representation of the Godhead
which dwelleth in light unapproachable were suffered by Christian
reverence, and when the right hand of the Lord was introduced
as the symbol, not the image, of the Father, whom no man hath
seen. The benediction with the thumb and two fingers, according
to the Latin rite, shows this Crucifixion to have been the offspring
of Western Art. We have literally described the ivory represented
in the etching, supposed, from certain peculiarities (for instance,
the strange spiral clouds), to belong to the same period as the
Lothario Crucifix (see woodcut in chapter ' Crucifix') ; viz., to the
9th century. In some ivories the scene is further peopled by the
four Evangelists, who sit on the transverse beam of the Cross —
the sun and moon between them — inditing their gospels, while
their winged symbols, poised headlong above, whisper inspiration
into their ears.
These forms of representation expanded into further symbolism
and greater reality. It would be impossible, however, to assign
any positive dates to such changes. The figures of Earth and
Ocean become more distinct in their attributes. Ocean is some-
1 Bottari, vol. ii. p. 101. The manner in which nuns and monks to this day cover
their hands in their sleeves is supposed to have the same origin.
VOL. II. TT
146 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
time? seated cm a dolphin, and with an oar in his hand. Earth
nurses young children at her breast, and has a serpent twined
round her arm. She is also seen with a small human figure
uplifted on her hand, which represents the darkness over the
earth1 — the sun and moon in such cases being merely present,
like the other abstract figures, in their character as the powers
of the creation witnessing the sufferings of the Creator. And
between the figures of Earth and Water occasionally appears a
female figure seated, with banner and globe in hand, or simply
draped, with uplifted veil, like the figure of Tellus under Christ in
the Catacombs, which represents the Heavens ; for < heaven and
earth are full of thy glory.' Also, on the same level with Church and
Synagogue, on the left side, sits a female figure, crowned with
towers — the emblem of a city — with a disconsolate air, who
puzzles antiquaries, but is supposed to represent the guilty city of
Jerusalem. And coiled round the foot of the Cross is the ancient
symbol of all, ' the old serpent ; ' sometimes lifeless, with its head
prone on the ground, or, if alive, looking impotently up at the
Second Adam upon the tree of our salvation, as before, according
to Art, he looked triumphantly down upon our first parents from
the tree of our fall.
These are merely the leading accessories of such Crucifixions as
remain to us from these little elucidated times and forms of Art ;
and which are accompanied by minute details, all conveying some
meaning, remote, local, mysterious, but always earnest, and
demanding a science properly so called, which only the investiga-
tions of a lifetime could elaborate. Even the right and left side of
the Cross have their meaning, never lost sight of when symbolism
was concerned, and kept up in form when the meaning came to be
forgotten, derived from the passage in St. Matthew, where, describ-
ing the Day of Judgment, our Lord says, ' And He shall set the
sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left ' (xxv. 33).
The right hand of the Cross, therefore, became the place of election,
as we shall see in the position of the good thief, and in that of the
Church, while the left marked that of reprobation, and was occupied
by the impenitent thief and by the Synagogue. It was this, doubt-
less, that as a rule placed the wound in Art on the right side ;
1 Piper, vol. i. Part II. pp. 75 and 78.
THE CRUCIFIXION SYMBOLICALLY TREATED. 147
Scripture being silent as to which side was pierced. The sun also
is seen on the right hand, in token, doubtless, of its higher dignity.
The fiction of our Saviour having hung on the Cross with His back
to the East (Jerusalem), and His face to the West (Rome), which
is of later date, has, however, falsified the position of the sun,
always an inconvenient heretic in mediaeval theology. For with
our Lord's face to the West, the sun would necessarily be on His
left hand instead of His right.
These were the materials from which subsequent generations of
Art supplied themselves, developing some into overstrained mean-
ings, suppressing others, adding more that was actual, and some-
thing that was fictitious. As classic traditions were gradually
trodden out, the abstract figures of Earth, Ocean, and Heaven
vanished from the scene; the mystic personifications of the Old
and New Law lingered into the 16th century, sometimes amalga-
mated with the symbols of the Evangelists, and leading to a
combination in which a hideous fantasticality, the offspring of
decaying faith, took the place of all earnest idea and pure Art, of
which we shall give specimens in due order. The rising dead
became rarer — the sun and the moon became material signs
instead of abstract figures — the hand of the Father disappeared
from the top of the Cross — a swarm of passionately weeping angels
called upon the beholders to lament with them rather than adore—
the serpent at the base became a conventionality, and remained so
till the latest times; or was replaced by the skull, also an early
image, round which tradition spread its moss — and Adam himself,
whose skull it was supposed to be, starts from the ground. Sacri-
ficial types also were varied : the pelican appears both above the
Cross and at its base — the wolf is seen suckling Romulus and
Remus, in allusion, it is supposed, to ancient Rome — or an altar
stands below the Cross, on which a red heifer is being sacrificed,
in allusion to the rites of the Old Testament now giving way. In
forms of Art, also, such as the ivories, which represent several
incidents together, the eye is carried forward to the events imme-
diately succeeding the Crucifixion — the sleeping guards and the
empty tomb appear, and the three women approach the angel
seated on the stone. Above all, the Saviour's Person changes
slowly in character — the head falls more on one side, always
14S HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
on the right, the body becomes less straight, though, while the
four nails remain, never much wrung; and the signs of natural
suffering appeal to a sense of tenderness and compassion which
no longer permits faith to be the paramount feeling in the
spectator.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN. 149
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN.
'Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His
mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.
i When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple
standing by whom He loved, He saith unto His mother, Woman,
behold thy son !
< Then saith He to the disciple, Behold thy mother ! And from
that hour that disciple took her unto his own home ' (John xix.
25-27).
This form of the Crucifixion — the most frequent existing — in
which the figures of the Virgin and St. John, standing alone on
each side of the Cross, especially embody and isolate this passage
from Scripture, had its origin in the earliest symbolical period.
An ivory diptych,1 presented by the Empress Ageltruda, at the
end of the 9th century, to the Monastery of Rambona in the
Marches, represents the form of composition which may be believed
to have supplied the parent idea to this class of Crucifixion. It is
not only that the Mother and the favourite disciple are seen on
each side, in the attitude proper to them in all forms of Crucifixion
at that period, but that above the head of each, upon the transverse
beam of the Cross, under and parallel with the Saviour's arms, are
written the words, ' Mulier en ! — Discipule ecce ! ' — ' Woman,
behold (thy son) ! Disciple, behold (thy mother) ! ' These words,
in so ancient a work of Art, show the original meaning given, to
these figures — that they were not there in the merely conventional,
however touching, sense expressive of natural sorrow and sympathy,
generally adopted in later ages, but as intended to identify that
very moment when our Lord gave His last human charge to the
Mother and beloved disciple.2 This inscription does not descend
into later ages, nor does Art need it where the subject is treated
1 See Buonarroti, Vetri Autichi.
8 The same inscription is traceable in very rude Greek letters in a pectoral Cross, with
the Saviour in the centre, and with the bust-figures of the Virgin and St. John at the
horizontal ends, now in the possession of Mr. Beresford Hope, engraved by Barthe j and
in another given in 'Borgia de Cruce Vaticana.' Thus it may be concluded to have
been not infrequent at that early period.
150 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
with consistency. This is, however, not to be considered as an
historical scene, for in that case the figures would have been more
numerous, and those of the Virgin and St. John more arbitrary in
expression, but as a representation in which the Real ministers to
the Devotional. For the real fact places the Mother of Jesus as
she stood by the Cross, in faith, and fortitude, and sorrow, there to
receive that injunction which our Lord's respect for the ties of
nature addressed to her individually, and to the beloved disciple —
while the devotional idea expands this injunction into a divine law
for ever, making it a pattern both for the observance of human
ties, and also for those larger bonds of love and dependence between
old and young, weak and strong. It would have ill harmonised,
either with fact or idea, under these circumstances, to have made
the Mother, who had power given her to stand by such a Cross, as
appealing by her anguish to our commiseration ; here, therefore,
and throughout the many generations of Art in which this moment
is pourtrayed, the prevailing expression given to her is that of a
decorous sorrow and pious faith — the sorrow due to our human
nature — the faith proper to her exalted character. Her attitude in
the earliest examples is strictly indicative of these combined
emotions ; one hand — the left — is upon her cheek ; the sign, as we
have already seen, of sorrow ; the right hand is raised towards her Son
— an ancient token of assent and obedience, which, in a Christian
sense, may be called a gesture of faith. We see it in the figures of
the Apostles upon the early sarcophagi, who raise their right hands
toward the Saviour in the centre in the same way. St. John's
actions convey the same decorous meaning. His hand is also on
his cheek, while the other holds the book of his gospel. The strict
unity of the moment is further preserved by the circumstances of
our Lord's Person. It is the moment when He is addressing, or
has just addressed, these two ; He is, therefore, alive and unpierced
by the lance. A further idea is also given in some of the early
representations ; for the head is not turned to either, but is
perfectly straight, as if giving this injunction to the world at
large. Thus the facts are strictly preserved, while the higher
idea dominates throughout.
Again, we see the Virgin and St. John on each side of the Cross,
accompanied by symbolical and Eucharistic accessories.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN.
151
This form is also of early origin — seen in a manuscript at
Brussels, and in an ivory at the Bibliotheque Royale, stated to be
of the llth century, and so simOar that they may be believed to
approximate in date. The accompanying illustration (No. 181) is
from the .Brussels MS., in which the sun and moon appear curiously
represented in their eclipsed state. The Eucharistic chalice below
181
The Crucifixion. (MS., Brussels Library.)
the feet of the Saviour here stands, not with the blood from the
wounds flowing into it, as in times when the type was strained into
an objectionable reality, but merely as a sign of that sacrifice which
the Church perpetuates in her Sacraments. Here, again, the Christ
is alive — His unpierced side showing that the Sacramental meaning
was held to be complete, even without that wound in the side, to
which Art afterwards gave such a prominence. In the Paris ivory
the hands of the Virgin and St. John are disposed one to the
152 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
cheek in sorrow, the other raised in assent. In our illustration
above, a change has taken place — both are raised — giving almost
a joyful character of obedience. Both these actions may be
seen in the figures of the Yirgin and St. John, either with or
without other figures, in the earliest known Crucifixions. Or, if
the position of the hands varies, it does not depart from that char-
acter of fortitude and submission which pervades the whole figure.
As time advanced, the hands are sometimes folded ; and in a MS.
in the British Museum,1 the Mother stands grandly with her arms
crossed on her breast, much in the same attitude in which Art
sometimes supposes her to have first received the angelic announce-
ment that she is to bear that very Son who now hangs dying before
her.
The picture of the Crucifixion in the Catacombs has also the
Virgin and St. John alone, as seen in the accompanying illus-
tration (No. 182). The date of this is uncertain — later critics
assign it to the llth century. The sun and the moon have be-
come little more than signs, and their names, though in Latin,
are written perpendicularly — the usage of Greek Art — of which
important schools had settled at Rome from the 8th and 9th
centuries.
Thus the figures of the Mother of Jesus, and of the beloved
disciple — for the double reason of commemorating a fact and em-
balming a principle — may be said to be stereotyped in Art as the
proper supporters of this awful escutcheon of our faith. We see
them on ancient bronze and brazen doors, so defaced by time that
only the general outline is preserved, but with it the point of the
same divine moral, and the adorning of the same sacred tale. They
linger in early windows, obscured with centuries of dust, yet faith-
ful in their dimness to the same unchangeable fact and idea. The
remnants of them, headless and handless, remain in many a
mouldering niche, but the torsos are true to the family from which
they descend. They stood upon rood-screens, dividing church from
choir, studied with listless or curious eyes by succeeding generations
of worshippers, and, in forgotten nooks of our country, they stand
there still. Time, however, which changes or modifies all things,
changed them too. A different condition of the crucified figure
1 Arundcl. 156. Plut.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN.
153
182
The Crucifixion. (Catacomb of Pope Julius.)
entailed different expressions in those figures on eacn side of it.
As the Christ on the Cross became less expressive of triumph, and
more of suffering, their faith apparently diminished, and their
anguish increased. As the body hangs distorted on the instrument
of our salvation, the Virgin wrings her hands or averts her head,
while St. John covers his face with his hands, or appears to beat
his breast. The unity of the moment is also sacrificed, for the
Saviour is dead and His side already pierced. He has bound these
two, dearest to Him, in sacred bonds of adoption, but they refuse to
be comforted ; and there is no lesson to be gathered, but for us to
sorrow like them. For though, in this display of human emotions,
VOL. II. X
154 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
there is that touch of nature which makes all men kin, yet it must
not usurp the place of that higher and wider kinship whose power
consists in being above nature. Here, therefore, is the error in all
works of Art which in such scenes make the human predominate
over the spiritual emotions — the natural man over Him that is born
again. This occurs at the time in which the Virgin, as we have
seen, attempts by her impotent hands to relieve her Son, on the
way to Calvary, of the weight of His Cross. This was the age when
the feelings of nature became clamorous for representation, and
when, to indulge them, the limits of religious reverence were
transgressed. These were the beginnings of the false excitement
to pity which in time, as we have seen, degraded its objects. It is
no wonder if the Virgin is soon discovered in the position most
untrue to fact and to character — not standing a monument of faith
and piety by her crucified Son, a lesson and a consolation to all
who are heavy laden — but succumbing beneath her Cross, as He
also is falsely made to succumb beneath His. This, however, does
not belong to the present form of Crucifixion we are considering.
The Virgin never faints in Art except when a more or less numerous
company surrounds her. With St. John alone she is almost in-
variably erect, though her gestures appeal in some cases more and
more to our compassion.
The great early masters of the Renaissance have left few speci-
mens of the Virgin and St. John alone in known and larger
Crucifixions. Duccio and Giotto have none, nor even Fra Angelico,
that special devotee of the Mother of God. This formal yet
graceful composition better suited the conventions of the Umbriau
school. Perugiuo has left his naive and devout impress on these
two stereotyped figures ; while the nearly allied Florentine, the
gentle Lorenzo di Credi has given all his insipid grace to them
(woodcut, No. 183). It may well be believed that in the endless
forms in which this class of Crucifixions abounded around them,
the maturer masters shrank from a convention which afforded little
encouragement to their enlarged powers. Michael Angelo's design
may be cited as almost a unique instance in the great Florentine
school, perpetuating the mere tradition of the form, but signalising
the utter departure of the feeling. Nothing can be well imagined
more opposed to all true conception of the scene than the colossal
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN.
155
183
Virgin and St. John at Foot of Cross. (Lorenzo di Credi.)
woman who stands ranting like a bad actress, apparently at the
shivering St. John, while two massive angels above, tearing their
cheeks, suggest no other idea but that of defiance to all the laws ot
gravity (woodcut, No. 184, over leaf).
The German artists have favourably impressed their peculiar
feeling on this form of crucifixion. The Saviour is always dead, and
the two figures stand motionless there, with no grace but that of
quiet sorrow. We give an illustration from Martin Schon (No. 185,
over leaf). The Mother — for so alone can one call that humble and
maternal figure, with the coiflike veil and quaint drapery — has folded
her hands, or crossed them on her breast, in uncomplaining grief.
She is not the being who quotes Jeremiah to call on the spectator to
see her grief: ' All ye who pass by,' &c. Humble circumstances and
lowly thoughts are stamped upon her form., in spite of that blaze of
156
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
184
The Crucifixion. (Michael Angelo.)
glory round her head; while perhaps the idea of true simplicity
which best suits the Handmaid of the Lord is more striking here
than in even the meekest figures of the Italian school. Occasionally,
the hands are gently wrung, as if the tide of the heart were swelling;
hut it is all pure grief — neither protest nor complaint appear. St.
John, young and curly-headed, stands with knit brow and swollen
eyelids, his hands tightly folded, and his gospel under his arm :
all ideality is gone, but the effect of that humble reality is comfort-
ing— as unpretending people and things comfort us most in times
of affliction.
Occasional solecisms and errors of taste also occur in this simple
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN.
157
185
The Crucifixion. (M. Schon.)
composition. In early ivories and other routine representations the
Virgin is seen, though rarely, with a hook also. This is one of those
mistakes to which all such mechanical forms of Art were subject.
Another and greater impropriety we have remarked is, that the head-
gear of the Mother has been stained with drops of her Son's blood.
This requires no comment. In so arbitrary a history as that fur-
nished by the legends of the Virgin, and one so little calculated to
exalt her character, it is no wonder that the most unbecoming
158
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
eccentricities have found favour. How low the conception of the
Virgin could fall in times when the real sources of Christian Art were
forgotten or troubled, may be gathered from an example of the
186
Virgin and St. John at Foot of Cross. (Guffins. Church of Notre Dame at S. Nicolas,
between Antwerp and Ghent.)
Crucifixion, mentioned by Zani, where she is seen lifting up her
hands, not in grief, complaint, or protest, but as if the words of the
mocking Jews, or the impenitent thief, were put into her mouth: < If
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN, 159
them be the Son of God, come down from the Cross ; ' to which the
Lord replies that He hangs there to save the human race from ever-
lasting perdition.1 Such aberrations, for the credit of Art, are
rare, but there are some conceptions of the Virgin, such, for in-
stance, as that by Michael Angelo, just illustrated, to which these
words seem the only natural key. One is tempted to wonder why
old painters, instead of attempting novel and dangerous ground,
did not rather proceed to represent these two sacred figures as com-
mencing their new duties, the first being to comfort each other,
which is the next natural step in the lives of both. Lord Lindsay
mentions traces of their meeting after the Crucifixion in a defaced
fresco in S. Francesco at Assisi. Mr. Dyce, Paul de la Roche (in
one of his exquisite three pictures of the Passion, exhibited in the
International Exhibition, 1862), and other modern painters, have
represented St. John leading her home. But their tearful greeting
before they left Calvary has scarcely been attempted but by M.
Guffins of Antwerp, whose fresco in St. George's Church in that
city, representing the Virgin taking the hand of her just-adopted
son, each bowed with grief, is so touching, and so probable in senti-
ment, that no one can look at it unmoved (woodcut, No. 186).
1 Zani, vol. viii. p. 69. The colloquy is thus given in Latin: 'Fili! Quid, mater?
Deus es? Sum. Cur ibi peudes ? Ne genus hurnanum vergat in iuteritum.'
160 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CRUCIFIXION WITH LANCE AND SPONGE.
IN early miniatures, enamels, and ivories, a figure lifting a lance,
and another a sponge at the end of a staff, are seen on each side of
the Cross, with almost as much conventional regularity as those of
the Virgin and St. John. In this no historical accuracy is intended,
for we know that between the giving the vinegar on the sponge,
and the piercing the side, our Lord said, ' It is finished,' bowed
His head, and gave up the ghost. But both these incidents showed
forth a great principle — namely, the fulfilment of prophecy ; and
it is in this sense that they are simultaneously presented to the
Christian spectator. St. John says : ' After this ' (after Christ had
consigned His Mother to the disciple's care), * Jesus, knowing all
things were now accomplished, that the Scriptures might be ful-
filled, saith, I thirst. Now there was set a vessel full of vinegar,
and they filled a sponge with vinegar, and put it upon hyssop, and
put it to His mouth.' The same moral accompanies the piercing of
the side : ' For these things were done that the Scriptures should
be fulfilled. And again, another Scripture saith : They shall look
on Him whom they pierced.' Thus the idea of the fulfilment of
prophecy becomes the real intention.
The name of the individual who pierced the Lord's side is not
given in Scripture. St. John, who alone mentions the fact, says
simply, ' one of the soldiers.' From an early time, however, this
individual has been distinguished by the name of Longinus, which
appears in the splendid Syriac manuscript in the Library of S.
Lorenzo at Florence, probably of the llth century, being inscribed
horizontally, in Greek letters, beside the figure holding the spear.
The name cannot be ascribed to any tradition ; its obvious derivation
from longche (Xoy^), spear or lance, shows that it was, like that of
St. Veronica, fashioned to suit the event. Later times have pro-
nounced this spearman to be one and the same as the centurion who
was converted by the signs following the death of Christ, and of
whom a history is given under the name of Longinus in Roman
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH LANCE AND SPONGE. 161
Catholic legend. This is a curious instance of the tendency of all
such inventions to overreach themselves. It is not that the sim-
plicity of the sacred narrative is disturbed, but its inherent logic
utterly disregarded. This has of course attracted the attention of
Catholic as well as Protestant writers. De Tillemont, in his
4 Histoire Ecclesiastique,' exclaims, ' Is it to be believed that the same
man dared to pierce the side of one whom he himself had just con-
fessed to be the Son of God? ' So much for the identity of these
two separate individuals — an idea never dreamt of by early Art,
which, representing successive actions simultaneously, frequently
shows Longinus piercing the side, whilst the centurion holds up
his hand and exclaims, ' Truly, this was the Son of God.' We see
the two together in Giotto, and in Martin Schon, and even as late
as in Gaudenzio Ferrari, as will be seen in our etching of the Cru-
cifixion (p. 211), where the conspicuous horseman pointing with
his baton is meant for the centurion. The blunder of confounding
these two individuals is, therefore, as recent as it is absurd.
But the legend of Longinus having received his sight, which is
given by Mrs. Jameson (* Sacred and Legendary Art, vol. ii. p. 788),
belongs only to the individual who pierced our Lord's side, and is
traceable as early as the 10th century, in an Anglo-Saxon MS. in the
British Museum. This legend describes Longinus to have been
blind, and thus to have struck at our Lord on the Cross, when, the
blood falling on his hand, he lifted it to his eyes, and immediately
received sight. We give an illustration of this incident from a
psalter belonging to Mr. Holford, where one eye is opened, and
the other still closed (woodcut, No. 187, over leaf). Here also the
centurion is seen on the opposite side behind, holding up his hand
in confession of the divinity of the figure on the Cross. The
legend has in later times received addition in the person of a soldier
who guides Longinus's spear, of which also we have seen examples.
Of the centurion, who, to the feeling of the Christian, is by far the
more interesting individual of the two-, no trace is found, we believe,
in legend. Art sometimes makes him kneeling in sudden self-
abasement at the foot of the Cross.
The figure with the sponge has been also left unnoticed, except
that tradition gives him the name of Stephaton, * but his history has
1 See 'Guide cle la Peinture,' 196, note.
VOL. II. y
1C2
HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
is
Legend of Loiigiu us. (Belgian MS. Mr. Holford.)
been in no way preserved or imagined. The spear itself is always
true to the ancient and accepted form of that weapon ; the sponge
is sometimes exchanged for a cup fastened to the end of a staff, and
generally, in early forms, Stephaton has the vessel of vinegar in his
other hand. Both these incidents are seen in our last illustration.
The lance and sponge appear in every possible form of the Cruci-
fixion, with all the array of symbolism, when the Church, under an
abstract female form, is catching the blood from the side — alone —
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH LANCE AND SPONGE. 163
with the two thieves, with the Virgin and St. John, and with the
full scene of the historical Crucifixion. As time advanced, and
ideas yielded to literal facts, all simultaneous action of these
two implements ceased. The sponge is generally seen — its office
over — among the uplifted weapons in the background, while the
spear is doing its terrible work. As regards this latter, we can
recall no example in which the appearance of undue violence is
seen. In this respect Art has not been led away by the visions
of St. Brigitta, who reports the spear to have been thrust so
violently that it went through the Saviour's body, aiul buried
itself in the wood of the Gross.
164 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE THIEVES.
ALL the four gospels mention the fact that there were two criminals
crucified with Christ, the one on His right hand, the other on His
left. They call them, alternately, ' thieves ' and < malefactors ; ' St.
Mark adding, ' And the Scripture was fulfilled which saith, And He
was numbered with the transgressors.' We know nothing of the
previous history of these men, nor of the crimes for which they
were condemned ; hut that their lives had heen evil is the avowal
from the lips of one of them. St. Matthew says that the thieves
joined in that reviling of our Lord which hade Him, if the Christ,
descend from the Cross : ' The thieves also that were with Him
cast the same in His teeth.' But St. Luke relates that one only
railed on Him, for which he was rebuked by the other, ' saying,
Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation ?
And we indeed justly: for we receive the due reward of our deeds :
but this man hath done nothing amiss.' St. Luke also alone men-
tions, that the same who had thus spoken then added an entreaty
to our Lord to remember him when He should come into His
kingdom ; and records the last act of divine beneficence, which
promised that he should that day be with Him in Paradise. Finally,
St. John alone tells that the soldiers, finding the thieves still alive,
brake their legs, as he alone narrates that one of them pierced the
dead Saviour's side. In these combined accounts there is one
apparent discrepancy — namely, that one Evangelist describes both
thieves as reviling our Lord, and another, only one. Ancient com-
mentators have tried to reconcile this in two ways. First, by the
supposition that St. Matthew used the plural number in an idiomatic
sense, which to this day is sometimes used when only a single fact
is intended; as St. Paul, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, speaking
of the saints, says, * have stopped the mouths of lions,' when only
Daniel was in his mind. Secondly, by the more probable assump-
sion that both reviled Him at first ; but that the spectacle of the
darkened earth and disturbed elements operated a change in him
who, by a necessary paradox, has ever since been known in religious
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE THIEVES. 165
phraseology as ' the good thief.' Then he became a new creature,
as testified by his few words bespeaking fear of God, belief in
Christ, and knowledge of a life to come.
The above are the simple materials from Scripture which Art has
amplified rather than added to. But the fact of these two malefac-
tors, who thus unconsciously fulfilled a strange, mysterious, and
long-recorded prophecy — one of whom was mysteriously taken and
the other left — a subject momentous to all — was too tempting not
to be the occasion of much legend and superstitious conjecture.
To begin with their names — no less than four have been given to
each — according to the Venerable Bede (8th century), the good thief
was called Matha; the bad thief, Joca. In the History of Christ
by St. Xavier, the one is termed Yicimus, the other Justinus. In
the apocryphal Gospel of the Infancy of Christ, their names are
Titus and Dumachas ; and in the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus,
or the Acts of Pilate, the good thief is described as Dismas, the
other as Gestas. Thus no reliance, even in an antiquarian sense,
is to be placed on traditions so varying ; while, to complete the con-
fusion, a learned Father is known to have reversed the two last
names, terminating a sacred strophe with the line, * Dismas
damnatur, Gestas super astra levatur.' The question, however,
may be considered as settled in a certain sense by the Roman
Martyrology, where Dismas appears as the ' Sanctus Latro/
The mention of these men in the ' Gospel of the Infancy' connects
them with a former period of our Lord's life — that of His residence
in Egypt ; it being the favourite object of such writings to bring-
forward pretended prophecies and coincidences, as in the case of
Judas, to fit on to the well-known events of the gospel. It is
related that, passing through a desert country in the night, the
Holy Family came upon two robbers, by name Titus and Dumachas,
who were the outposts of a large band of thieves. Titus, moved by
some mysterious instinct, persuaded his companion not to arouse
the other miscreants, but to let the Child and His parents pass
safe, giving him, as a bribe, his girdle, and the promise of forty
groats. On this the Virgin, not knowing the meaning of what she
uttered, prophesied that God would receive him at His right hand,
and grant him the pardon of his sins. And the Child Jesus added
that in thirty years they should be both crucified with Him, on
166 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
His right hand and on His left, and that Titus should go with Him
into Paradise.1
The other story from Jacob de Yaragine runs thus : — < Jesus as a
child showed His power by protecting His parents against robbers.
When the robbers rushed upon them, and wanted to despoil them,
one of the band, looking fixedly at the young Child, exclaimed,
" Surely, if it were possible for God to be seen in the flesh, that
boy must be God." Whereupon his companions desisted, and let
them go free. This was the thief to whom the Lord afterwards
said, " To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." '
The question of the good thief s title to be considered a martyr
was one which excited early, and not irreverential inquiry. St.
Jerome, in the 4th century, awarded the palm ungrudgingly to him,
saying that he had exchanged the cross for Paradise, and the penal-
ties of the homicide for the pains of the martyr. And S. Buona-
ventura, defining the complete martyr as dependent on two
conditions — a right will and a right cause — says that the first was
wanting in the Innocents, the second in the good thief, but that
Christ supplied the deficiency in each. It is also as a martyr that
he was received among the saints of the Roman Calender.
Other questions of a less excusable nature, and what we should
now feel it almost profane to consider at all, also engaged the
attention of the learned in the Middle Ages. The first was
the cause of the conversion of the good thief, which was ascribed,
by a strange misprision of facts, to the shadow of Christ, which
during the crucifixion fell on the fellow-sufferer at His right
hand. This suggestion received the most solemn investigation
— the arguments against being on a par with those for it. The
second question was the mode of his baptism, since without this
sacrament it appears to have been thought that not even Christ
was powerful enough to save him. And this was solved by the
belief that the water which flowed from the wound in our Lord's
side reached the body of the good thief, and thus besprinkled
him with a t sacratissimo battesimo.' The fact that he was already
dead when the Lord was pierced, did not, it seems, weigh with
such writers.
The Greek Church represents the good thief as bearded and
1 Gospel of Infancy, chap. viii.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE THIEVES. 167
grey-haired, the impenitent one as young and beardless. The one
has a scroll, inscribed, < Remember me, Lord, when thou comest
into Thy kingdom.' The other turns his back, saying, 6 If Thou be
the Christ, save thyself and us.'
There is some reason to believe that the crucifixion of the thieves
preceded, in Art, the Crucifixion of our Lord. We see in an early
Crucifixion, gi\7en in Frisi's i Memorie delle Chiese Monzese,' the
thieves bound to their crosses, with the figure of the Lord standing
between them, or simply with the head of Christ in a circle, and a
cross beneath it; the sun and the moon, as small heads or signs,
appear in their usual places ; and below kneel two figures — probably
the Virgin and St. John (woodcut, No. 188).
The thieves already indicate their history, for
the head of the one on the right is turned to
the centre, while that of him on the left is
averted. This is a very remarkable instance
of the incongruous mixture of the real and
.,,. i'i i i li. i "U j? 188 Early Crucifixion
ideal in which early reverence halted beiore with Thieves.
venturing on the complete picture. How soon
the centre cross was erected between them it would be difficult to
say — at all events, the three crosses appear by the llth century.
In the Syriac MS., in the Laurentian Library at Florence, the
thieves are nailed on to their crosses — in this, doubtless, preserving-
greater historical accuracy. In later forms, however, they are gene-
rally seen tied on to their crosses — the transverse beam passing
under the armpits, their hands evidently fastened behind (see
woodcut, No. 187). The reason for their being nailed in the one
instance, and bound in the other, may be found in the necessity,
considering the rude and ignorant eyes of those who beheld them,
of distinguishing their figures at a glance from that of Christ. In
the earlier instances this distinction was sufficiently supplied by
the difference in their dress — they having merely a short petticoat
round the hips, whilst the Lord was often draped from shoulders to
feet. But when the dress became similar—Christ being girded
only with the perizonium, or linen cloth — the necessary distinction
was found in the different way in which their figures were attached
to the cross. Economy of space had also something to do with
this arrangement. The crosses of the thieves were often made far
168
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
smaller (as we see in woodcuts Nos. 188 and 192) than that of the
Lord ; and the position of the bound arms further contracted the size.
There is no doubt, considering the Crucifixion in any form known
in Art as a mere convention, that this mode of attaching the
thieves was the most merciful to the eye — the feet being sometimes
supported by a suppedaneum, sometimes not, according to the
more or less prevalence of a Greek element. Duccio, in his
grand composition, gives the thieves nailed, their crosses being
of the same size, and their drapery of the
same form, as that of the Lord. But even
he has a distinguishing sign, though small ;
for while he was one of the first who places
the Lord's feet across, and fastens them with
one nail transfixing both, he places the feet
of the thieves separate, with a nail to each.
But in this Duccio is an exception. Cavalini,
in the Church of S. Francesco at Assisi,
Buffalmacco, at the Carnpo Santo, and gene-
rally all masters to the latter days of the
Reformation, represent the thieves as bound
to their crosses. But the identity of treat-
ment went no further, for, after this, painters
seem to have vied with one another in in-
venting modes for the crucifixion of the
thieves. This was no longer by way of dis-
tinction, for the times for such a necessity
were past, but rather as affecting pictorial
variety in a terrible and thankless subject.
The bodies of the thieves were accordingly
wrung into every form that humanity could
be compelled to assume, their crosses consist-
ing of unhewn sterns or boughs of trees,
either fashioned into the general shape of a
cross, or taken just as the tree and branches
happened to grow. The adaptation of the
limbs to this kind of improvised cross is strik-
ingly seen in the celebrated signed picture by
Antonello da Messina, in the Ertborn collec-
159 Bad Thief. (Antonello
-da Messina. Antwerp
Gallery.)
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE THIEVES. 169
tion at Antwerp (woodcut, No. 189); the long Northern residence
of this painter having apparently imhued him with the fantastic
feeling in the treatment of this subject afterwards so strongly and
often unbecomingly developed in Germany and Flanders. Here it
is palliated by a certain feeling for beauty, which, if we forget for
a moment the period of suspension, strikes us in the elastic and
bowlike form of the bad thief. He seems, too, to have borrowed the
Greek tradition as to the age of the sufferers ; for the head of his
good thief is bearded, the other not. But more frequently, in the
Italian school, the signs of age are reversed, and the bad thief is
made an old sinner, whilst the other turns to the Lord a counten-
ance beautified by youth as well as by repentance.
The more Italian feeling of the great masters of the 15th
century — Bellini, Mantegna, &c. — have left to us no such arbitrary
distortions. Their thieves, though variously treated, have always
a certain decorum of position ; while the utter violation of all
physical rules robbed the subject as far as possible of its horrors.
The two crucified figures hang generally at ease, with gracefully
bended knees, in positions that could not be maintained for a
minute — tied on by ropes, elegantly and loosely — no footboard
to alleviate the strain. Montegna, as we see in our etching, has
tied the arms, like Pietro Cavallini, over the transverse beam.
Bellini has merely attached the arms to it — one before and the
other behind the beam ; the feet tied loosely — one foot at liberty.
Luiui, in his gorgeous Crucifixion at Lugano, has nailed
his thieves to their crosses, in each instance leaving one foot
free.
We must turn to the early German and Flemish schools for a
very ungraceful view of the Crucifixion in every sense, especially of
the thieves. In Rogier van der Weyden's picture in the Castelbarca
Gallery at Milan, the cross is in front of the thief, who rides on it
in a very unbecoming manner. Israel von Mechenen has, in two
instances, represented both his thieves blindfolded. The < Mattre
Crible ' has tied them in a mode which necessitates the utmost dis-
tortion ; while his bad thief is turning more than disrespectfully
from our Lord, apd, perhaps to show his further irreverence, has a
slouched hat on I
But the most hideous and objectionable conception of the figures
VOL. II. Z
170 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of the thieves is seen in German pictures of the 16th century,
•generally by nameless masters, who leave no impression on the
mind but that of the cruel and ghastly ugliness of their inventions.
A picture by Aldegrever 1 is an example. The thieves are in
person the lowest specimens of plebeian life, tied on to their crosses
with every distortion of limb that could mock and outrage
humanity; the head of the good thief is that of a ruffian over
which no light of sanctifying grace and hope has passed. To make
the bad thief more brutal still, was to snatch a horror beyond the
reach of Art. He is therefore so placed that the face is not seen at
all. They are both dead, killed with dreadful gashes, which extend
to the thighs and the arms. We look on and think with horror of
the familiar scenes of cruelty which took place under sovereign
electors and bishops ; of him, the pastor of the flock, surnamed
John the Cruel, Bishop of Liege ; of the Archbishop of Cologne,
who welcomed travellers up the Rhine by a row of gibbets placed
along the banks — and feel what that social state must have
been where churches demanded and artists supplied such detestable
spectacles.
Later masters, who sought a different earnestness and a different
horror in a closer adherence to historical probability, have nailed
the two malefactors to their crosses. Rubens supplies an instance,
who, in his great Crucifixion at Antwerp, thus gives the opportunity
of deepening the horror of that moment, which of all others he has
chosen, the breaking of the legs. This dreadful act is seldom
seen doing, though often done. When the thieves are represented
dead, that act must also be supposed as passed, since we know that
it was committed in order to kill them, < that they might be taken
away.' The avoidance of this display of cruelty was, doubtless, one
of the motives why the thieves are so generally represented alive
by the Italian great masters. But the Northern mind was differ-
ently constituted ; the Germans especially delighted in the ghastly
fractures — indeed, such was their appetite for the ugly and the
horrible, that we have seen instances where the arms are broken
also.
A German picture in a gallery more remarkable for quantity
than quality, at Posen, gives a soldier with a club ascending a
1 In the Board Room of the National Gallery.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE THIEVES. 171
ladder placed against one of the thieves' crosses, when he is sud-
denly terrified by a figure rising from a grave at the foot of Christ's
Cross.
In the play of the Passion, the soldiers strike the chests of the
thieves, as the fiction could not be so well represented with the
legs.
172 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH ANGELS.
IN the very earliest Crucifixions, as we have seen, angels are always
present, two or three in number, hovering above the Cross, or
seated on the transverse beam. And in the midst of all the array
of the symbolism of Sun and Moon, Earth and Ocean, Church and
Synagogue, with the Christ on the Cross far more God than man,
the angels — who are made entirely in the image of man, with
superadded wings — strike the eye as the most real beings present.
In the great Crucifixions, however, of the 13th and 14th centuries,
in which a new and gorgeous representation of the scene burst
forth, crowded with real persons below, and assuming more or less
an historical character, the swarms of angels who fill the air at
once assume their right supernatural relation. This sense is in-
creased by the change in their forms ; they are no longer made in
the image of man, or rather, they are only half so. This may be
accounted for by those typical modes of. reasoning, only tolerable
in speech, but utterly anomalous for the purposes of Art — in vogue
in early theology — by which the angel was pronounced to have
two purposes of being; viz., the power of understanding and the
promptitude of executing, the one lying in the head, the other in
the wings. Beyond these two members, both St. Augustine and
St. Bernard leave it uncertain whether angels have bodies at all.
Under these circumstances, the great early painters of the Renais-
sance seem to have taken a middle course. Their angels have
heads to understand, wings to sustain, arms to gesticulate, and
hearts to feel, but they terminate below the waist with a complete
repudiation of the lower limbs. Thus they appear in the earliest
of those grand Crucifixions by the first masters of the Renaissance
—by Giunta Pisano, Pietro, Cavallini, Duccio, Giotto, Niccolo
di Pietro, and BufTalmacco. But while discarding some of the
limbs of man, they have taken on themselves all his passion and
vehemence. Giunta Pisano, Pietro Cavallini, and Giotto's angels,
as seen at the Crucifixion, are beings of a Southern clime, under
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH ANGELS.
173
the utmost excitement of Italian feeling ; heads, arms, and hands
never went through a more varied and violent pantomime of agony
and despair. This is carried almost to caricature, where a distracted
little angel above the Cross is seen tearing open so human a look-
ing breast as to contrast curiously with his superhuman wings and
Ar.gels in Crucifixion. (Pietro Cavallini. Assisi.)
his airy terminations. Giotto and Pietro Cavallini have both this
incident. In the Crucifixions by Giurita Pisano and Giotto, some
of the angels, with golden chalices, are charged with the office of
catching the blood from the hands and side — a function hitherto
restricted to the side only, and more properly performed, in a
symbolical sense, by the female figure impersonating the Church.
Duccio is free from this rather unattractive conceit; his angels,
all grouped in a graceful semicircular wreath above the Cross, are
unrivalled in the beauty of pathos and propriety. These have a
higher purpose here also than the mere fluttering impotence of
174
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
despair. True to their character as divine messengers, they are
hastening on each side, in heavenly dismay, to bear the unspeak-
able tidings aloft, while one yet lingers a moment to kiss the dead
hand. We give a woodcut (No. 191). Duccio, too, has evidently
felt the absurdity of the conventional terminations, and though not
venturing to give the feet, has yet so disposed the drapery as to
hide the absence of them.
It is not often that we see the angels occupied (except when
catching the blood) with the figure of our Lord. D' Agincourt (pi.
ci.) gives an example from the Chapel of S. Silvestro, near the
191
Angels round Cross. (Duccio. Siena.)
Church of the Quattro Incoronati at Rome, where an angel is
taking off the crown of thorns and putting on a real crown. We
give the illustration (No. 192). This is an early fresco, date 1248.
(As regards the crowned figures of the crucified Saviour, see chapter
'Crucifix').
A striking and characteristic purpose to which the attendance of
angels is applied is seen in those early and full Crucifixions which
include the two thieves. Here both angelic and demoniac ministry
is introduced — angels to receive the soul of the good thief, and
demons waiting for that of the impenitent malefactor. This was a
natural idea at a period when no death-bed was represented without
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH ANGELS.
173
192 Angel exchanging Crown of Thorns for real Crowu. (D'Agincourt.)
a good or evil spirit watching for the disembodiment of the soul.
These ghostly convoys to opposite worlds hardly occur before the
14th century. Buifalmacco and Niccolo di Pietro, each in their
large Crucifixion with the three crosses, are among the first who
introduce them. We give a fine example of the treatment in each
case (woodcuts, Nos. 193 and 194, over leaf). The angel here con-
veys its charge — a little child, ' pure, innocent, and undefiled ' —
with a tenderness too dignified to be called maternal, while, on the
opposite cross, a scene of Dantesque horror takes place, like an
incident in a Last Judgment.
Later masters varied the idea without improving it. Luini's and
Gaudenzio's angels are too priestlike in character, receiving the
little soul upon the corporate or cloth on which the sacramental
wafer is borne, as if they had visited the sacristy on their way from
heaven. The good thief is always dead, the little soul with folded
hands already yielded up, but the impenitent thief is sometimes still
alive, either cowering from the harpylike monster who keeps guard
with outstretched claws over him, or, as in a Crucifixion by Gau-
denzio, looking up at him with an obdurate face, as if defying him
176
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
193 Angels receiving Soul of good Thief. (Buffalmaceo. Cam po Santo.)
to do his worst. (We give an etching.) An angel here hovers above,
weeping, its grief diverted from the slain Shepherd to the lost sheep.
194
Demons receiving Soul of bad Thief. (Niccolo di Pietro. Pisa.)
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH AXGELS.
177
There are few Crucifixions with angels between the date of these
just described and those designed by Perugino and Raphael. And
Ly the 15th and 16th centuries the swarm of heavenly beings which
(formerly filled the air has taken flight, and two or three alone are
/admitted, catching the blood in chalices. These, though restored
to the full complement of their limbs, have not gained strictly in
beauty of character, but seem only to make use of their feet to stand
tiptoe on little shreds of clouds. Luini and Gaudenzio, in their
V
Angel lamenting, above Crucifixion. (Gaudeiizio Ferrari.)
Crucifixions, summoned back the departed hosts, and again made
the air alive with them, being intermingled in Luini's work with
little winged bodyless heads, which fly about like moths among the
more stately dragonfl'ies. Gaudenzio's angels are perhaps the most
b"uutiful creatures that were ever conceived. Those which stud the
ceiling over the Crucifixion are models of heartrending emotions
expressed with heavenly grace (woodcut, No. 195).
VOL. n. A A
178 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The German masters were fond of angelic attendance upon the
Cross, but they have mixed it less with the historical personages
belonging to the scene. Martin Schon has four angels, less passion-
ate and more substantial — heavy, solid creatures — their feet hidden,
if they exist, in the mass of snapt hempen drapery — with chalices,
one to each nail and one to the side. Israel von Mechenen has the
same privileged four, though their effect is much marred by the blood
which issues straight like a spout .from each wound. It would seem
that he took this conception from the hideous, carved wooden
images, with the same straight and solid streams, which are seen in
the German museums. The angel catching the blood from the feet
is always rather a burlesque, being placed behind the Cross, in
order not to intercept the sight of the feet, and peeping round to fill
its chalice. Albert Diirer reduced his angelic attendance to three
— one angel holding a chalice in the right hand to the side, and in
the left to the hand. This peopling the air round the Cross lasted
till angels were cut down to the cherub head and two wings — like
a rose and two leaves — which hum about the Cross, or sit on the
transverse beam like half-fledged birds. It is almost ludicrous to
see one of these little creatures, with its chubby important face,
seated on the end of the cross, watching for the soul of the good
thief, which it has no means of sustaining, while the opposite
demon, similarly employed, has every corporeal advantage to assist
him in his labours.
Last of all, the angels in the Crucifixion seem to have descended
to earth, for Wierix places two tall winged forms behind the figures
of the Virgin and St. John.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN FAINTING. 179
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN FAINTING.
THE VIRGIN fainting at the foot of the Cross, supported by St.
John and the Maries, belongs generally to a crowded composition,
with the thieves, the mocking Jews, the soldiers casting lots, &c.,
the group surrounding her being usually on the left hand of the
spectator, and in front of the Cross.
This incident dates from the earliest masters of the Renaissance.
At that time, the consideration of her grief at the sight of her
crucified Son, as well as at the sufferings which preceded the Lord's
suspension on the Cross, was the great subject brought forward for
the contemplation of Christians by the Church and the monastic
preachers. The spectacle and description of her sorrows took the
precedence of her Son's sufferings ; those were measured by what
they cost her — His Passion by her Compassion. Art especially
selected the act of her fainting at the foot of the Cross as the
embodiment of this idea. The hymn of the Stabat Mater, written
by Pope Innocent III. (1296-1318), probably contributed materi-
ally to suggest this form of the Virgin's maternal emotions. For
though commemorating the Scriptural fact of her standing, it is
the description of one (' 0 quam tristam, quam afflictam ! ')
hardly likely long to maintain that position. The fainting of
the Virgin was considered in some sort as her martyrdom ; and
while the mass of the Seven Dolours of the Blessed Virgin sets
forth her sorrows generally, a separate feast was instituted called
the ' SpasimoJ or fainting of the Virgin, which belonged especially
to a Marian Order of the Annunciation. This received fresh
vigour from a Bull issued by Julius II. in 1506, granting large
indulgences to all who should attend the observance of this feast
in any church belonging to the houses of this Order. Under these
circumstances it is no wonder that Art should have been pressed
into the service, and that the fainting of the Virgin should have
become so stereotyped that scarcely an historical picture of the
Crucifixion, either North or South of the Alps, is found to exist
without it.
180 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
It is almost needless to say that to us this conception, which re-
duces the Mother of our Lord to the condition of a fond but feeble
woman, and robs her of her crowning act of fortitude and faith
recorded in Scripture, is as incomprehensible in a moral sense as it
is distasteful in the light of Art. Are we to believe that the Mother
of Christ was outdone by the mother of the Maccabees — in some
sort a type of her — who stood firmly by through the martyrdom of
seven sous ? Nor is such a supposition less condemned by the rules
of Art. To them this abdication of her high estate is a perpetual
anomaly and embarrassment, creating that forbidden thing in a
picture, a second centre of interest, and proportionately diverting
the attention of the actors in the piece and of the spectators of the
scene from the great and sole object. It is difficult, too, to under-
stand how a church, otherwise charged with over-zeal for the
Virgin's dignity, should have taken pleasure in the contemplation
of an incident so little complimentary to her character. If the
words of Scripture could be set aside, were there not those of the
great St. Ambrose ? ' Mary not being less than it behoved the
Mother of Christ to be, stood before the Cross, ready even herself
to die for the human race.' It is fair, however, to state that the
fainting of the Virgin at the Crucifixion has been indignantly
condemned by many Roman Catholic divines. One quoted by
Molanus, Thomas Cajetani by name, referring to a question
whether the Spasimo of the Virgin be canonical, replies that it is
not canonical, ' sed indecens et improbabileS Another writer,
levelling his indignation directly at Art, inveighs against the
impiety of painters who represent the Blessed Virgin as ' collapsed,
extended in a swoon, and only not deprived of life ; supported in
the arms of others, like any other mother from the common people.' 1
Again, other writers deny the possibility of her fainting, calling the
supposition ' temerarium, . scandalosum et periculosumj affirming
that those preachers in Spain who maintained this fact were, by an
edict of the Sacred Inquisition, compelled to recant their words as
contrary to the magnanimity and fortitude of the Virgin.2 This
list of protesting writers may be closed with the pithy words of the
Abbe Zani, writing in this century : ' This group may be rather
1 Molanus, p. 444. » Idem, p. 445.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN FAINTING.
181
dispensed with, so that the spectator may have an open field to
turn the eyes of repentance to Him who suffered for him.1
We must now consider the subject in its course through Art, in
which it forms a remarkable example of the impetus to exaggera-
tion ever acquired by an heretical incident. The earliest examples
of this mournful group are, therefore, the finest; for they give
196
Virgin fainting. (Duccio. Siena.)
little more than the indications of the approaching swoon. In
Duccio, especially, the first weakness of the limbs appears. We
see that she has stood till that moment, when, Christ being dead,
her fortitude forsakes her ; but she is still looking upwards at her
Son. It must be said for those early masters that they generally
give the fainting of the Virgin after the death of the Saviour ,
though afterwards not even this decorum was observed. Tintoretto,
for instance, makes her fainting while the Cross was being raised.
Giunt a Pisano goes a step farther in the falling attitude ; her eyes
are closed, and her head sunk on her shoulder. It is not too much
1 Zani. vol. viii. p 50.
182 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
to say that during the 13th and 14th centuries the Virgin is still
semi-upright — her usual action being that of sinking "back, with
outstretched arms, as if catching at some support. The 15th cen-
tury saw her seated on the ground, apparently deposited there from
the same feeling in her attendants as is experienced by the Pro-
testant spectator — namely, that her sorrow is embarrassing and
mistimed. In a beautiful picture in the Louvre by Giovanni da
Milano, this feeling is strongly indicated, though with perfect
reverence. The Virgin has fainted in a seated position — the Mag-
dalen supporting her in front, and St. John on his knees behind
her. But the painter has felt the anomaly of making her a centre
of attention. St. John holds her mechanically, his head turned
up with an absorbing feeling to the lofty Cross, while the Mag-
dalen's tears are evidently not for the feeble Mother ' tramortita,' as
the Italians express her position, before her. The close of the 15th
and beginning of the 16th century laid the Virgin lower still.
Bellini and Raphael have each placed her almost flat — the women
turning their backs on the Cross of Christ, and bending low to
succour her.
Gaudenzio Ferrari represents the Virgin merely reclining, and
very beautiful, in both his great Crucifixions; but this was owing
to the narrowness of the space, which forbade a recumbent figure.
This great master has also a beautiful terra cotta group, in a chapel
on the Sacro Monte of Varallo, in which the Virgin, approaching
the scene, seems as if she would fall forward, not senseless, but
from excess of emotion.
The German and Flemish masters did not evince more respect
to the character of the Virgin in this scene. Even Albert Diirer,
whatever his knowledge of and respect for Scripture, shows little
adherence to it in his works. His Virgin is almost lying at the
foot of the Cross.
In Martin Schon we see that the whole weight of the sinking
figure is on St. John, who has one arm round her waist, while he
stays himself with the other hand against the Cross. And here the
Abbe Zani expresses the feeling of a Protestant spectator, in cen-
suring the occasion which this group gives to the semblance of a
familiarity on the part of St. John, as he holds her in his arms, by
which the sense of religious decorum is disturbed. He adds that
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE VIRGIN FAINTING. 183
some painters have contrived that the fainting shall befall one of
the Maries instead of the Virgin. Of this, however, we can cite no
instance, although one may be quoted in which St. John himself is
swooning into the arms of the women !
The fainting of the Virgin continued to a late time, when it was
taken up in a different sense — of which, however, instances are
seen as early as the 14th century. That tendency to represent
figures of speech by means of forms of Art was especially favoured
by the Society of Jesuits. The Virgin transfixed with a sword
(' and a sword shall pierce thine own -heart ') was a favourite image
in their churches, and is so still. She is even seen thus barbarously
used at the scene of the Crucifixion — the sword in some instances
coming out at her back, so as to convince the faithful that no
juggling is practised upon them : under such circumstances the
fainting must be considered as a very natural result.
184 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CRUCIFIXION, WITH THE VIRGIN, ST. JOHN, AND SAINTS.
IT seems strange that the Virgin, seen in a fainting condition,
should almost invariably accompany all Crucifixions, especially
Italian, which assume an historical character ; while, with con-
sistent contradiction, our Lady is no sooner placed under more or
less fictitious circumstances — that is, with St. John alone, or
attended by other saints — than she assumes the standing position
which belongs to her true history.
A not unfrequent class of the devotional Crucifixion is that
in whidi the Virgin and St. John appear at the foot of the Cross,
with other saints who in no way belong to the scene. This fora?
seems to date from the same time as those holy anachronisms
when saints of different periods group together on each side of
the Enthroned Virgin and Child, in what is called a ' santa
conversazione.' In these Crucifixions, which are chiefly Italian
in origin, she is always ' in piede,' and by her devout and sub-
missive attitude, becomes an edifying example to her companions,
and to the Christian spectator. The choice of the particular
saints who figure here may be interpreted by the same rules
as those which influence the ' santa conversazione,' the saints
being national or local, or founders of the Order, or patrons of
the Church, for which the particular picture of the Crucifixion was
executed.
Thus, for instance, we may take a well-known Crucifixion, -by
Perugino, in the Ghigi Chapel of the Church of St. Augustine, at
Siena. The Cross of the Saviour is alone. On the one hand are
seen the Magdalen, St. Mary Monica, and St. Augustine ; on the
other Mary of Cleophas, John the Baptist, and St. Jerome. The
Virgin and St. John stand behind. Here St. Augustine is properly
introduced in a Church dedicated to him; the Cappella Ghigi,
founded by an ecclesiastic of that family, accounts for St. Jerome,
who, as a Cardinal, may be considered as the fitting representative
of the clerical founder. St. Mary Monica is a natural companion of
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE MAGDALEN. 185
her son, while the presence of John the Baptist needs no expla-
nation. In a devotional sense he is perfectly in character at a
Crucifixion, pointing to the Lamb of God slain from the foundation
of the world. He is, however, very rarely present.
Another well-known Crucifixion by the youthful Raphael (doubt-
less greatly influenced in arrangement by his master's picture, just
described, formerly in the Fesch collection, now belonging to
Lord Dudley, is of similar though more limited character. Here
St. Jerome and the Magdalen kneel in front, while the Virgin
and St. John stand behind. In almost all these devotional and
composite Crucifixions, the Mother and the disciple take their
stand behind the saints, as figures before which a succession of
worshippers of the Cross may be supposed to kneel : while their
position, like that of fixed stars, higher and deeper than the rest,
changes not.
The legendary saints most often seen at a Crucifixion of this
class are St. Jerome, St. Francis, St. Dominic, St. Rocco, and St.
Sebastian, St Catherine of Siena, and St. Veronica.
In these cases the Virgin is almost invariably accompanied by
the faithful St. John. There are instances, however, where she
appears with St. Francis. A large picture at Berlin, by Filippino
Lippi, shows her and the devotee of poverty kneeling on each side
of the Cross, while angels catch the blood in chalices. The kneeling
figures are of the highest spiritual expression and pathos.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE MAGDALEN.
THE attendance of this impassioned saint at the Cross occurs, in
later Art, next to that of our Lady in frequency. She hardly appears
with any distinct prominence till the period of the Renaissance,
being confounded with the other Maries in the Art of previous
centuries. Whether considered as the sister of Martha and Lazarus,
or as the sinner who sat at the feet of Christ at the Pharisee's feast,
who washed our Lord's feet with her tears, and wiped them with
her hair, her position at the foot of the Cross, embracing those feet
VOL. n. B B
186
HISTORY OF OUR L'ORD.
which brought such mercy to her, is natural. Her presence there
is historical also, being recorded by St. John in the same and only
passage which tells the presence of the Mother of Jesus.
Giotto is one of the first who makes the Magdalen prominent at
the foot of the Cross — embracing and kissing the bleeding feet,
which, in His Crucifixion, are on a level with her: where the Cross
is loftier, she holds -up her hands in impotent yearning, or flings
them back in despair. In the reticence of early Art she has a
certain stiffness and reserve ; but as Art conquered mechanical
difficulties, her impetuous 'nature breaks more and more forth. In
Luini's great fresco, at Lugano, she
kneels apart in front, clad in gorgeous
drapery, her hair falling in a torrent
(woodcut, No. 197). Instances -are
too numerous to be given. This saint
has also been fully described, under
everjr view that Art has given her, by
Mrs Jameson. The position of one so
graceful and tempting to the painter
takes every variety that a female figure
kneeling and looking up could assume.
But in early pictures she often joins in
attendance on the fainting Virgin, or
more seldom, as in the pictures by
Perugino and Raphael, described in
the last page, she kneels gravely, with other saints. Occasionally
she appears without the grave escort of the Virgin, as in a
devotional Crucifixion by Andrea del Castagno, formerly in S.
Giuliano, at Florence, where St. Giulio and St. Dominic kneel on
each side, while she embraces the feet.
And, lastly, the Cross of our Lord is often seen attended only by
the Magdalen — a picture in which the beautiful mourner, with her
elaborate tresses and brocaded mantle, disturbs the solemnity of
the scene. That place was not meant for passion or display — and
there is too much of each in these late pictures of false sentiment
to be consistent with the Magdalen's character, either as saint or
penitent.
197 Magdalen at Foot of Cross.
(Luini.)
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE MARIES. 187
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE MARIES.
A SHORT account must be given of these holy women, who appear
in this and succeeding scenes of our Lord's Passion, and appear
in strict accordance with the narrative of Scripture. They are
variously mentioned, by Matthew, Mark, and John, as Mary the
mother of James, or James the Less, and Joses — as the mother of
Zebedee's children — as Salome, and as the Virgin Mary's sister,
Mary the wife of Cleophas. The early Fathers abridged this
number by asserting the mother of James and Joses (the wife of
Alpheus) to be the same as Mary wife of Cleophas, sister to the
Lord's Mother. St. Jerome says : * She need not be thought a
different person because she is called in one place Mary the mother
of James the Less, and here Mary of Cleophas, for it is customary in
Scripture to give different names to the same person.' Again, the
mother of Zebedee's children, mentioned by Matthew, is declared
by Origen (3rd century) to be the same as Salome, mentioned by
Mark. Thus the four different appellations are believed to apply
but to two women, who, with the Magdalen, make up what are
called the three Maries. The painters, however, have been less
critical. Often there are only two holy women — nearly as often,
three — and on some occasions, four (distinguished by their glories),
besides the unfailing Magdalen. In these shrouded and lamenting
figures there is little individuality. Their part at the Crucifixion
is to stand behind the Virgin, or to bend over her ; and, like a
Greek chorus, they are always at hand to repeat the burden of this
most terrible drama.
188 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
DOCTRINAL CRUCIFIXION, BY FRA ANGELICO.
THE strictly devotional Crucifixion, representing the scene, not in
the hands of the Jew and Roman ignorantly and maliciously ful-
filling the mysteries of Redemption, but as the great doctrine of
Atonement, upheld by the Church, adored by saints, and surrounded
with the light of fulfilled prophecy, is a separate subject, in which
but few of the details we have been describing enter, and which
requires a general explanation.
As the head and model of all this class, unique in beauty,
fervour of thought and piety, and in consistency of conception, the
Crucifixion, as predicted by the prophets, preached by the most
eminent saints, and viewed through the sorrow and humility of the
burning and shining lights of Christendom, we turn immediately
to the great Crucifixion by Fra Angelico. This may be considered
the highest example of the mystery of our redemption that the
pencil of man has produced for the edification of his fellow-creatures.
It is in the convent of S. Marco at Florence. This newly-erected
convent had been bestowed in 1436 on the Order of the Domini-
cans, who migrated from Fiesole here, by Cosmo de' Medici. In
gratitude for the gift, the pious hand of Fra Beato gave it a further
consecration by works which breathe the airs of Heaven, and which
can never find a higher development upon this earth. The cells,
the cloisters, the refectory, were all hallowed by scenes from the
life of our Lord, conceived in that abstract form in which holy men
living in seclusion and self-abasement, and devoted to their Order,
might be supposed to view them; while the hall of the chapter-
house gave room for that great event to which all others converge
as the centre of the Christian system. This was called, not the
Crucifixion, but the Adoration of the Cross. A reference to the
etching will show this picture as supported by the bust figures of
the holy founder, and of the canonised and beatified members of
the Order of Dominicans, enframed within a semicircle of those
prophets of the Old Testament who especially predicted the
DOCTRINAL CRUCIFIXION, BY FRA ANGELICO. 189
sacrifice of the Messiah, and accompanied by a train of adoring
saints of every period and denomination. Thus it knits together
in one unexampled whole the grand Christian idea, from the
earliest glimmerings of truth permitted to the patriarchs of the
old Law to the joyous confessions of faith delivered by the latest
preachers of the painter's own brotherhood.
To begin with the centre representation. This forms a large semi-
circle, with the three crosses placed symmetrically, and with twenty
figures, life-size, ranged in various attitudes below. The Christ,
with a small crown of thorns, is dead. It is a gentle figure, but
little marked by bodily pain — the body straight — the head just bent
on one side — the expression that of a full, free, and perfect sacrifice.
The thieves are still alive, nailed like Himself, the crosses slightly
turning to the centre. The good thief gazing on the Lord with holy
peace ; the other uttering a wail of pain, with head turned from the
only Physician. Below, on the extreme right, are the three patron
saints of the house of Medici (by whom the convent, as we have said,
was presented to the Order). St. Lawrence, with his hands gently
folded ; St. Cosmo, clasping his hands tightly — both gazing at their
crucified Lord — while St. Damian turns away in uncontrollable
grief, and covers his eyes. Next in order kneels St. Mark, gospel
in hand, as patron saint of the convent. Beside him stands the
child of the desert, John the Baptist, than whom born of woman
no greater prophet had risen, one hand directed towards the verit-
able object of which the small reed cross in his other hand was the
symbol.
The fainting of the Virgin here is less discordant to the eye in a
scene where no historical reality is aimed at, yet it seems incongruous
that she alone should fail, where all others beside herself and those
occupied with her swoon should have strength to stand or kneel. St.
John and a Mary uphold the Virgin ; the Magdalen kneels to sup-
port her in front, her back turned to the spectator. This group
alone is diverted from the one thought ; they alone see the falling
Mother, for, in the wrapt contemplation of the dead Lord of souls,
no other heeds or sees what his neighbour does. We continue the
figures in the same succession. The first on the left hand of the
Cross is the founder of the great Order of Preachers of the Cross,
St. Dominic himself, kneeling with extended arms and raised head,
190 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
in speechless rapture. Behind him kneels St. Jerome — not beating
his breast, for self-humiliation gives way here to holy contempla-
tion— wrapt in a hermit's dress, his cardinal's hat, like all other
worldly things, on the ground beneath him. Above the two stands
St. Ambrose, in episcopal robes, his crozier in his hand, pointing
to the Cross, like a man prepared in the strength of that sign to
intercept the course of the greatest earthly potentates, and looking
at his book in his other hand. Next him, again, is St. Augustine,
also in episcopal attire, with pen and book in hand, in reference to
his rules which the Dominicans had adopted, looking earnestly at
the Author and Finisher of his faith. Behind St. Jerome kneels
another pillar of the Church — the ardent St. Francis, with his eyes
fixed on the Lord, in the brown Franciscan dress, a cross in his
hand : the signs of the stigmata are there, but his whole thoughts
are fixed on the sufferings of which they are the impress — his hand
to his own cheek, in compassionate yearning. Behind him in a
godly company, like burning lights set in a row, kneels, again, the
gentle St. Bernard, pressing the rules of the Order to his heart,
and gazing on Christ as if for help to keep them faithfully.
Above these two last figures stands one with a rod, believed to be
St. Benedict, who sought to realise the sufferings of Christ by self-
inflicted scourgings ; while next him is St. Romualdus, the hermit,
solitary there even amongst this number, in the abstraction of
his gaze. Then, in the foreground, kneels a pathetic figure in
the dress of a Franciscan, turning from the Cross as not worthy
of it — looking fixedly out of the picture, with one hand over
his weeping face. This is supposed to be St. G-ualbertus, while
some have suggested that the painter's own humility and grief,
though not his own figure, are meant to be depicted. St. Peter
Martyr stands above, gazing into space, with the expression of
one who purposes faithfulness unto a bloody death ; while St.
Thomas Aquinas terminates the row of righteous confessors, here
gaining knowledge and courage for the work they had set them-
selves to do.
We now take the semicircular framework, which forms another
part of the great thought. This is a broad compartment, varied
by graceful arabesques, with perforated sexagonal spaces, out of
which proceed the half-length figures of prophets, with inscribed
DOCTRINAL CRUCIFIXION, BY FRA ANGELICO. 191
scrolls, who have referred to this great moment of Christ's
sufferings.
In the centre of the arch is the well-known type of the pelican
feeding her young with her blood, with the inscription, i similis
factus sum pelicano solitudinis ' (' I am like a pelican of the
wilderness,' Ps. cii. 6).
On the left of this centre are the prophets in the following
order : —
King David holding forth the scroll : ' In siti mea potaverunt
me aceto ; ' which the Psalm expresses, i And in my thirst they
gave me vinegar to drink' (Ps. Ixix. 21).
Jacob Patriarch : ' Ad predani descendisti fili mi dormiens
accubuisti ut leo.' This is the translation of the patriarch's
prophecy to Judah, of whose tribe Christ came ; < From the prey,
my son, thou art gone up : he stooped down, he couched as a lion '
(Gen. xlix. 9).
Zechariah : < His plagatus sum.' (?)
Daniel: 'Post hebdomades VII. et LXIL occidet Chst.'—
(' After seven and threescore and two weeks Messiah shall be cut
off.') This is a combination of Daniel ix. 25, 26.
Dionysius the Areopagite : ' Deus naturae patitur ' (' The God of
Nature suffers '). This is intended for the individual of whom
Luke speaks (Acts xvii. 34) : ' Howbeit, certain men clave unto
Him (Paul) : among the which was Dionysius the Areopagite.' It
is related of him that, being in Heliopolis at the time of the Cruci-
fixion, he beheld the eclipse of the sun, which took place contrary
to the laws of such phenomena, and exclaimed to a friend, ' The
God of Nature suffers.' Scholastic theology adds, that the Athen-
ians, in consequence, erected the altar mentioned by St. Paul i to
the unknown God.' Dionysius is hence admitted in Art as one of
the witnesses of Christ.
Isaiah, with the scroll : ' Vere languores nostros idem tulit et
dolores ncstros' (' Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our
sorrows,' Isa. liii. 4).
Jeremiah : * 0 vos omnes qui transitis per viam, attendite et
videte si est dolor sicut dolor meus ' (' All ye that pass by, behold
and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow.' — Lamentations
of Jeremiah i. 12).
192 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Ezekiel : i Exaltavi lignum hile ' (humile) ; ' I bare it upon my
shoulder ' (Ezek. xii. 7).
Job : ' Qui det de canibus ei ut saturem.' (?)
And finally the
Erythrean Sibyl : ' Morte niorietur. Tribus diebus somno sub-
scepto et tune ab inferis regressus ad lucern veniet primus.' This
may be considered as a paraphrase from the passage in the Nicene
Creed.
The horizontal base on which the picture stands shows the pious
esprit de corps which, next to religion, animated the painter monk.
The great superstructure of prophecy and accomplishment rests on
the strength of the Dominican Order. In the centre is St. Domi-
nic, sustaining a kind of genealogical tree, which encloses in its
lateral circles bust pictures of the most eminent brethren of the
Order : those canonised by the Church, with circular glories ; those
only beatified — as the painter himself was destined to be — with rays
of light from the head. St. Dominic, as we say, is in the centre
compartment, with eight bust figures on each side of him — seven-
teen in all, their names inscribed within the same circle, though
our etching is too small to give them. First, on St. Dominic's
right hand (the spectator's left) is : —
1. Pope Innocent V. ; blessing, with the keys.
2. Cardinal Hugo; with book and pen — alias Ugoliuo. The
Cardinal Legate, who performed the funeral obsequies to St.
Dominic, 1221.
3 Paulus, Patriarcha Gradensis, in Florence ; with book.
4. Antoninus, Archbishop of Florence (this name has been
inserted since — he being still alive when the work was executed) ;
with book.
5. Jordanus of Alemania (Germany), second General of the
Order ; with staff ; called Jordanus of Saxony, who succeeded St.
Dominic.
6. Nicolas, ' Provinciales Portugalesis ; ' with rod.
7. Remigius of Florence ; expounding on his hands.
8. Buonianus, saint and martyr ; with a saw and palm-branch.
On the left of St. Dominic :—
1. Pope Benedict II. ; blessing, with the keys.
DOCTRINAL CRUCIFIXION, BY FRA ANGELICO. 193
2. Cardinal Giovanni — ' Domenicus Cardinalis ' of Florence ;
with book.
3. Pietro della Pallude of France, Patriarch of Jerusalem ; with
book.
4. Albert us Magnus ; with pen and book.
5. Raimond of Catalonia, of Pegnaforte, third General of the
Order ; with staff and book. Elected 1237.
6. Chiaro da Sesto of Florence, i Provincialis Romanus.'
7. S. Vincent of Valencia, < Predicator.' His hands raised in
act of preaching.
8. Bernard, Saint and Martyr ; with palm-branch.
Most of these heads are individual and grand. The marvellous
completeness of this work, proceeding, as it does, in equal propor-
tions from the Churchman, the Christian, the Monk, and the Man,
will excuse the length of this description. No other Crucifixion is
like it, except in the mere fact of the devotional as opv^ed to the
historical character ; and in some respects, such as the attitude of
the Virgin, it forms an exception to this class.
VOL. IT. c c
194 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE TREE OF THE CROSS.
Fr. L'Arbre de la Croix.
THIS curious and complex form of the Crucifixion, properly named
the Tree of the Cross, on which the heads of the prophets hang like
fruit, and the leaves represent the Christian virtues, is occasionally
seen in pictures of the 15th and 16th centuries, though more gene-
rally it lies hidden in illuminated MSS. of an earlier time. This is
a complete history, carefully laid down, and though breaking forth
into further development, according to fancy or local requirement,
never departing from the main outline, so that one specimen will
furnish a key to every variety of the species. The origin of L'Arbre
de la Croix is traceable to a source whence, as we have seen, flow
other pictorial forms of our Lord's Passion. It is to S. Buonaven-
tura (born 1274) that the metaphorical description of the tree of
life, worked out from the second verse of the twenty-second chapter
of the Revelation, is owing, whence Art took the positive forms
given in our etching. This illustration, necessarily reduced in size,
is little more than a map of the subject, but if the reader will follow
the references, a complete index of the contents may be gathered.
It is taken from a magnificent manuscript of English origin, in the
British Museum,1 believed to be of the date 1310. We must pre-
face the description by stating that, in the mechanical working out
of such representations in times when Scripture was a sealed book
to the workman, discrepancies and mistakes appear. Thus the
same prophet is repeated twice in the case of Isaiah, and one
prophet put for another — as, for instance, Zephaniah for Malachi,
Ezekiel for Daniel, and Habakkuk for Samuel, their identity of
course being decided by the texts they hold.
In the centre we see the Crucifixion itself. This is an instance
of the distortion which continued to prevail in Northern countries,
long after it had yielded before the purer feeling of Italian Art.
It is curious to see how the left knee is put over the right, and the
right foot over the left ; a position which only the young and
1 Arundel, 83.
IP IKIES US (0)1? ITIHIIE "<DIR.<Q>SS« .
English- MS. Early 14^ century.
THE TREE OF IKS CROSS. 195
elastic can assume at all, and which is wanton barbarism in Art,
when we consider that the figure must be supposed to have been
so crucified. From the tree issue six branches on each side, the
ends bearing prophets holding texts relating to the Crucifixion,
gathered from their writings (too small to be inserted in the
etching), and with their names written above. Along each branch
is a quadruple inscription extolling the virtues and sufferings of
Christ, and in the centre a leaf inscribed with a Christian virtue.
On the right, beginning at the top is : —
1. Zephaniah — put by mistake for Malachi — bearing scroll
inscribed : * Accedam ad vos in judicio, et ero testis velox.' * And
I will come near to you to judgment ; and I will be a swift witness '
(Mai. iii. 5).
2. Hosea : ( Mors, ero mors tua.' ' 0 Death, I will be thy
plagues ' (Hos. xiii. 14).
3. David : ' Foderunt manus meas et pedes meos.' ' They
pierced my hands and my feet' (Ps. xxii. 16).
4. Zechariah: 'Appenderunt mercedem triginta argenteos.' ' £o
they weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver ' (Zech. xi. 12).
5. Daniel : ' Lapis abscissus de monte sine manibus.' * A stone
was cut out (from the mountain) without hands ' (Daniel ii. 34 ;
which brake the image which Nebuchadnezzar saw in a dream).
6. Isaiah : ' Ecce virgo concipiet et pariet filium.' ' Behold a
virgin shall conceive, and bear a son ' (Isa. vii. 14).
On the left side, beginning from the top : —
1. Ezekiel, put for Daniel: 'Evigilabunt alii in vitam eternam,
et alii in opprobrium.' 6 And many of them that sleep in the dust
of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to
shame ' (Daniel xii. 2).
2. Amos: ' Qui edificat in ccelo ascensionem suam.' It is He
that buildeth His stories (or spheres) in the heaven' (Amos
fe.6).
3. Habakkuk put for Samuel : ' Unum petit autem Agnum
lactantem.' * And Samuel took a sucking lamb, and offered it for
a burnt offering unto the Lord wholly ' (1 Samuel vii. 9).
4. Solomon : ' Morte turpissima condemnemus eum.' ' Let us
condemn Him with a shameful death ' (Wisdom of Solomon,
Apocrypha, ii. 20).
196 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
5. Isaiah : ' Disciplina pacis nostrse super eum ' (Isa. liii. 5).
1 The chastisement of our peace was upon Him.'
6. Baruch : ' In terris visus est.' ' Afterward did He show Him-
self upon earth' (Baruch iii. 37).
Below the tree stand three figures on each side, with scrolls. On
the right : —
1. St. Paul : ' Christo confixus sum cruci.' ' I am crucified with
Christ ' (Gal. ii. 20).
2. Jeremiah : ' Spiritus oris nostri Christus Dominus traditus
est.' ' The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was
taken in their pits ' (Lam. iv. 20).
3. Moses: ' Lignum vitae in medio Paradisi.' ' The tree of life
also in the midst of the garden ' (Gen. ii. 9).
On the left : —
1. Daniel : i Post septuaginta hebdomados,' &c. c And after
threescore and ten weeks shall Messiah be cut off' (Daniel
ix. 26). Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people' (ix.
24).
2. Ezekiel : ' Et folia ejus in medicinatn.' ' And the leaf thereof
for medicine ' (Ezek. xlvii. 12).
3. St. Peter: < Christus pro nobis mortuus est.' ' Christ also
suffered for us ' (1 Peter ii. 21).
Below the Cross is the bust length of St. John the Evangelist,
holding a tablet : l Vidi lignum vitas afferens fructus duodecim per
menses singulos, et folia ligni ad medicinam gentium. ' The tree
of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit
every month, and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the
nations ' (Rev. xxii. 2).
Upon the transverse beam of the Cross stands a small cross with
the good thief; next him written, ' Latro in cruce.' From his
mouth is a scroll : l Memento mini, Domine, cum venis in regno
tuo : ' On the opposite side is the centurion — by him is written
4 centurio : ' out of his mouth, ' Vere, filius Dei erat iste.' Above
the Cross is the Pelican feeding her young — written above :
4 Pelicanus decor, pro pullis scindo mini cor.
The quadruple inscriptions on each branch are for the magni-
fying of Christ, a kind of manual in verse of His attributes and
life.
THE TKEE OF THE CROSS. 197
1st branch, right hand below (Jesus written I.H.S.)
Jesus ex Deo genitus.
Jesus prefiguratus.
Jesus emissus celicus.
Jesus Maria natus.
ranch, left hand, below : —
Jesus conformis patribus.
Jesus Stella mon stratus.
Jesus submissus legibus.
Jesus regno f ugatus.
2nd branch, right side : —
Jesus baptista celicus.
Jesus hoste temptatus.
Jesus signis mirificus.
Jesus transfiguratua.
2nd branch, left side : —
Jesus pastor solicitua.
Jesus fletu rigatus.
Jesus propheta cognitus.
Jesus panis sacratus.
3rd branch, right side : —
Jesus dolo venundatus.
Jesus orans prostratus.
Jesus turba circumdatus.
Jesus dulcis ligatus.
3rd branch, left side : —
Jesus notis incognitua,
Jesus vultu velatus.
Jesus Pilato traditus.
Jesus morte damnatus.
4th branch, right side : —
Jesus spretus ab omnibi?*.
• Jesus cruci damnatus.
Jesus junctus latronibus.
Jesus felle potatus.
4th branch, left side
Jesus sol morte pallidus,
Jesus translanceatus.
Jesus cruore madidus.
Jesus intumulatus.
198 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
5th branch, right side : —
Jesus triumphans mortuua.
Jesus surgens beatus.
Jesus doctor precipuus.
Jesus sponsus ornatus.
5th branch, left side : —
Jesus ductor exercitus.
Jesus celo levatus.
Jesus largitor spiritus.
Jesus laetans reatus.
6th branch, right side : —
Jesus testis veridicus.
Jesus judex iratus.
Jesus victor magnificus.
Jesus orbis prelatus.
6th branch, left side : —
Jesus rex regis filius.
Jesus liber signatus.
Jesus fontalis radius.
Jesus finis optatus.
Finally, there remain the six medicine-bearing leaves on each
side.
On the right hand : —
1. Prseclaritas originis.
2. Celsitudo virtu tis.
3. Confidentia in periculis.
4. Constantia in cruciatu.
5. Resurrectionis novitas.
6. Equitas judicii.
On the left hand :—
1. Humilitas conversation!:*.
2. Plenitude pietatis.
3. Paciencia in injuriis.
4. Victoria in conflictu.
6. Ascensionis sublimitas.
6. Eternitas regni.
A magnificent specimen of this Tree of the Cross is in a Bible at
Berlin.
THE TREE OF THE CROSS. 199
In S. Antonio at Padua is a picture of the 16th century, in which
the subject is partially rendered. A tall cross, with branches only
from the upper part, bears the heads of the twelve prophets as
in a glory round the Saviour. Below stand SS. Sebastian, Felice,
Ursula, and Alessandro.
200 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CRUCIFIXION ON CROSS WITH LIVING ARMS.
Fr. La Croix brachiale vivante.
THIS very unattractive and un poetic conception had its origin in
a time when the far-fetched allegories indulged in by preachers to
arouse sluggish ears of the 1 5th and 1 6th centuries became the very
inappropriate theme of positive colour and form. The age was full
of false comparisons, carried out in lame, turgid, and wearisome
metaphors, in which the decline of Italy and her mental deteriora-
tion may be clearly foreseen. It would be strange if Art had not
partaken of this vapid taste. The types of Church and Synagogue,
on each side of the Cross, represented in grand female figures,
the one receiving the Sacramental blood, the other turning away,
have been described ; the questionable moral taste of the Cinque-
cento restored them in forms of tasteless monstrosity. Some of
our readers may have puzzled over a fresco lately laid bare in one
of the first of the left-hand chapels in S. Petronio at Bologna,
where a Cross, with living arms proceeding from it, is seen between
two women mounted on animals, one of the arms from the Cross
holding a crown, the other a sword. A few hour's journey to
Ferrara clears up the mystery, the gallery of that ancient city
possessing the largest and most circumstantial picture of this
form of subject that exists. It is by Garofalo, thirty feet long, and
too vast for any illustration. We must be therefore satisfied to
describe this correctly, which, as the greater includes the less, will
furnish a sufficient key to the simpler form of the subject, taken
from a drawing of the sixteenth century, of which a woodcut is
given (No. 198).
The Cross is in the centre, the Christ dead upon it, the ends of
the transverse beam each terminate in two arms and hands ; those
on the right holding a crown in one hand, a key in the other ; those
on the left a spear, and a broken key without wards. On the same
right side of the Cross is a female figure holding the globe of the
world with the Cross on it, seated on a fabulous animal with four
CRUCIFIXION ON CROSS WITH LIVING ARMS.
201
198
The Crucifixion with Church and Synagogue.
heads — the four attributes of the Evangelists — the lion, the bull,
the eagle, and the angel ; the Church seated upon the Gospels —
the crown held by one of the arms above is being lowered upon her
head.
On the left side is a woman blindfolded, seated on an ass, as the
type of wilful stupidity, her crown falling off, her sceptre broken;
by it the inscription, * It fell' (cecidit). 'The Lord hath broken
the sceptre of the rulers ' (Isa. xiv. 5). The spear held by the
hand above the woman is being plunged into her heart. Altogether
her state is hopeless, for the ass on which she sits is wounded in
several places, and about to drop. Above the Cross is a square
building with towers, the heavenly Jerusalem, inscribed, Paradiso.
VOL. II. D D
202 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The figure of the Almighty above. Angels are seen on each side
over the walls — those on the right playing on musical instruments ;
those on the left adding further to the embarrassment of the
poor Synagogue by shooting at her with most unangelic spite with
arrows and even with a gun. On the right is an open door into
the building, with an angel, beckoning, and holding a scroll : < Veni,
Columba mea' (' Come, my dove') — a paraphrase from the Song
of Solomon. On the left side a closed door and angels over it
holding a scroll : ' Non intrabunt nisi qui scripti sunt in libro vitas '
(( None may enter but those who are written in the book of life ')
— a paraphrase from Rev. xxi. 27. From the foot of the Cross two
hands again proceed — one holding a cross to the open mouth of
Limbus, signifying that through the Cross all these should be
saved; the other hand holding a key and locking up the fiery
mouth of hell, whence there is no escape. On the right side above,
St. Paul is seen preaching to the Gentiles ; and below are represen-
tations of the Sacraments of Baptism, Confession, and the Mass.
On the left are the Jewish High Priest and other figures in conster-
nation— the lamb standing on the altar for sacrifice. Above is
the Temple of Solomon in ruins. Higher up are two tablets sus-
pended on each side ; the one on the right inscribed with the verse
from 1 Cor. i. 21 : ' For, after that in the wisdom of God the
world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness
of preaching to save them that believe ; ' the one on the left with
the verses from Isa. i. 13-15: ' Bring no more vain oblations:
incense is an abomination unto me ; the new moons, and sabbaths,
the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with: it is iniquity, even
the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts
my soul hateth, they are a trouble unto me ; I am weary to bear
them, and when ye spread forth your hands I will hide mine eyes
from you : yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear ; your
hands are full of blood.'
This explanation will supply a sufficient key to smaller
works (like our illustration) on the same theme, which are
occasionally seen. The subject is an insult both to Art and
morals — a cruel spectacle, a bad lesson, and a frightful pictorial
monstrosity.
SOLDIERS DIVIDING ROBE. 203
SOLDIERS DIVIDING ROBE.
ALL the Evangelists mention that the soldiers parted His gar-
ments— ' casting lots.' St. John says: 'Then the soldiers, when
they had crucified Jesus, took His garments, and made four
parts, to every soldier a part ; and also His coat : now the coat
was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said
therefore among themselves, Let us not rend it, but cast lots for
it, whose it shall be : that the Scripture might be fulfilled, which
saith, They parted my raiment among them, and for my vesture
they did cast lots (Ps. xxii. 18). These things therefore the soldiers
did' (John xix. 23, 24).
This incident, therefore, assumed a high importance among the
accessories of the Crucifixion. The soldiers occur early in Art, and
continue to appear in full Crucifixions of every time and country.
They are seen in the Syriac MS. in the Laurentian Library at
Florence, In this, and in most early instances, they are but three
in number, seated with the vesture on their laps, their hands raised
in gesticulation and evident dispute over it. Giotto, in the Arena
Chapel, introduces this incident with all his dramatic feeling. The
coat, a beautiful Eastern garment with embroidered sleeves, is held
between two standing soldiers, each in violent excitement ; one has
a knife out, and a third soldier between them has seized and
arrested his uplifted arm with both hands.
Other painters represent them as in the act of casting lots,
which may be supposed to have succeeded to this violence of
dispute. Fra Angelico, as we have seen (p. 124), gives the incident
even before the Lord is crucified, and before He is entirely de-
spoiled of His garments. He increases the reality of the act by
closing the eyes of the man who holds the dice-box. A fourth
stands over them. Gaudenzio also gives the casting lots, as may
be seen in the etching (p. 210). Luini has three men standing in
204
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
199
Soldiers quarrelling over division of Robe. (Luini. Lugano.)
violent altercation, each with a hand on the garment, one just
drawing his sword (woodcut, No. 199). Neither history nor legend
says anything of these men.
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE FIGURE OF CHRIST ALONE. 205
THE CRUCIFIXION WITH THE FIGURE OF CHRIST ALONE.
THIS is altogether a modern subject, hardly known till the
time of the Carracci, and always treated more or less with a
devotional intention. This is not to be considered as a portion
of the actual scene, but as a separate subject, conveying the idea
of one forsaken by man as well as by God : ' My kinsmen and
acquaintance stood afar off.' As a further embodiment of this
idea, the moment is generally chosen when the Saviour is uttering
the agonised cry : ' My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me ? ' Guido is a great master in this conception. His Christ,
of which there is a fine example at Modena, hangs alone and
alive against the densely obscured sky. There is tempest as well
as darkness in that eclipse, for the drapery is agitated, not with
the convention of Raphael or Martin Schon, but by a real wind.
Guido is always beautiful in our Lord's suffering head, and here
the refinement of His pallid silvery tones adds an indescribable
pathos to the figure.
Rubens and Van Dyck have a similar conception, as in our
etching after Van Dyck. There are also numerous examples of the
single Crucifixion by them and their school with the Christ dead
— still adhering to the same idea of one left alone with that nature
which is supposed to have suffered with her author.
It was reserved for Yalasquez to revive this somewhat hackneyed
type with the infusion of his strong originality. The great painter,
who gave something none ever gave before to every subject,
touched this also with his wand ; yet not to reanimate it, but to
turn it to stone. Valasquez's prominent quality is always intense
character, whether of an individual, as in his portraits — of a class,
as in his dwarfs — of a scene, as with the commonest landscape,
which under his hands becomes an individual locality. That he
sought for the stamp of character in the Crucifixion as well, is
evident. And he found it in that which, as regards the Man,
was most natural ; as regards the God, most supernatural ; in that
which gives a stern pathos to the meanest creature that has ever
206 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
breathed, and is almost too dreadful to gaze upon in the Person of
the Lord of Life — he found it in the character of Death itself.
This picture (see etching) is no conventional form of a dead Christ
—a sight as hackneyed in Art as the words that express it — no
counterfeit to spare the feelings of the beholder. Death reigns and
triumphs in this pendent head, which, with the sudden relaxation
of the muscles, has fallen straight forward on the chest, while,
with that last movement, the hair has fallen too, aud hangs down
over one half of the countenance. It was a daring thought to
make the extinction of life the hiding of the face. Nor did
Valesquez use this devise to get over a difficulty none could better
cope with than he. He knew that pain would not make the head
fall thus — nor weakness, nor weariness — that while there was life
the position was not that. In short, he knew that death only could
thus lower that Divine brow ; on which, while we gaze, we realise
the feelings of the disciples, to whom the rising again of this dead
body was for a while as an idle tale, not even remembered in their
time of desolation ,
THE FIGURE OF ADAM CONNECTED WITH THE CRUCIFIXION. 207
THE FIGURE OF ADAM CONNECTED WITH THE CRUCIFIXION.
WE have seen that the skull at the foot of the Cross was sometimes
interpreted as that of Adam. Mount Calvary and the hills about
Jerusalem were too tempting a locality for early theologians not to
have made them the site of every possible historical and spiritual
coincidence. By the Jewish writers the site of the Temple was
believed to be the same as that where Adam was created, where
Cain and Abel brought their offerings, where the Ark rested and
Noah built his altar, and where Abraham led Isaac to be sacrificed.
By Christian writers this mania for local coincidences was naturally
transferred to Mount Calvary. That, too, was believed to be the
same hill where the sacrifice of Isaac prefigured that of Christ ;
but more especially it became the supposed resting-place of father
Adam, who was supposed to have been buried exactly where the
Cross subsequently stood, thus reconciling, even locally, the dogma
that c As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive.' ' An
apt connection,' St. Jerome says, ' smooth to the ear, but not true.'
Another glorious text, too, fitted this arrangement : < Awake, thou
that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee
light.' The blood of Christ falling on Adam's tomb was supposed
to have called him to life. Accordingly, it is not unfrequent, in
miniatures and early pictures, to see the figure of our first father
arising exactly at the foot of the Cross, and holding , a chalice by
which to catch the blood. We give a curious illustration from a
miniature of the 14th century, in the British Museum (No. 200,
over leaf). The single skull, too, at the foot of the Cross or
Crucifix, which is of very early origin, is sometimes intended for
Adam's skull — though it also simply illustrates ' the place of a
skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha' — Golgotha being a
Syriac expression for Calvary, and Calvary betokening the place of
the beheaded. This accounts for examples where more than one
skull and several bones are seen lying about.
In a picture at Nuremberg, in the Moritz-Capelle (No. 116), we
208
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
200 Adam at foot of Cross. '
(English MS., beginning of 14th century. Arundel, 83. British Museum.')
see John the Baptist, by a retrospective exercise of his office, point-
ing out the Lamb of God to Adam, on whose chest falls the blood
from Christ's side; the dove is close to the wound, while other
events and types of the Lord's life are given in the distance.
Such subjects as these are, of course, never to be taken in an
actual sense — they are mysteries, illustrating doctrinal speculations,
which the Church tolerated, though it did not absolutely teach
them.
THE CRUCIFIXION CONSIDERED AS A WHOLE. 209
THE CRUCIFIXION CONSIDERED AS A WHOLE.
HAVING thus described the figures and groups which form the
usual component parts of the Crucifixion, it will be as well to take
a rapid glance at a few of the largest, fullest, and most character-
istic representations of the scene as a whole. These, in the form
of frescoes on walls, or of pictures on. panel, were the offspring of
the 13th century, and, like all the fuller details of the Passion,
were called into existence by the fervent preaching of St. Dominic
and St. Francis. The churches dedicated to St. Francis, whose
aspirations to share in the sufferings of the crucified Lord were
believed to have been rewarded by the visible impress of the
Saviour's wounds, were therefore the most appropriate field in
which the sufferings of the Cross could be shown to the faithful.
Accordingly, the Church of S. Francesco, at Assisi, was distin-
guished by two grand representations of the Crucifixion — by Giunta
Pisano and Pietro Cavallini — to each of which we have often had
occasion to refer. That by Giunta Pisano is the earliest of this
class that can be cited. It partakes strongly of a Byzantine
element — the Christ being already dead, greatly swayed in position
— and with the suppedaneum or board for the fest. He has no
crown of thorns, but the head is bound with a cloth, which is
perhaps a unique instance. One peculiarity of this Crucifixion
is, that the crowd .beneath are divided into women on the one side
and men on the other, as in ancient church congregations. They
are placed all on the same level, one head above the other, with no
difference of character. St. Francis, almost obliterated, kneels s.t
the foot of the Cross.
Duccio's Crucifixion may be supposed to come next in point of
time. Here there iw a sense of reality mingled with much of the
traditional feeling of the day. The group on the left side shows the
progress of Art, being full of expression. Some grey-bearded Jews
are holding up their hands as if in mockery, while with others the
whole scale of feeling is expressed, from the first suggestion of doubt
us to what ma aner of man this was, to the obvious remorse which
will in another moment send them away smiting their breasts.
VOL. II. E E
210 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The Crucifixion by Buffalmacco, in the Campo Santo, if rightly
ascribed to him, comes next in date ; he was born 1273. Here, in
order to gain height for the background figures, the crosses are
placed on a hill, and figures on horseback, probably for the first
time, introduced. The Roman soldier is more numerously repre-
sented here than the Jewish elder. The centurion on horseback,
with a nimbus, is raising his hands in adoration on the right side ;
the daughters of Jerusalem and their children, seldom seen so pro-
minent, are also here perhaps first introduced. Fully a fifth of the
work has been destroyed.
We pass on to a Crucifixion of which no engraving exists, and
which is perhaps the grandest ever executed. We mean the great
fresco of this subject, of which, though attributed to Simone
Memmi, the author is yet unknown, in the Capella degli Spagnuoli,
in S. Maria Novella, at Florence. This is on the wall opposite the
entrance door, over and around the arched space left for the altar.
This is characterised by all that dignity and variety of expression
which preceded the full maturity of Art. Angels and demons are
still here, fulfilling their respective ministry, while the human
groups have expression and grace, and even a common truthful-
ness bordering on the humorous. Of such a class is on the left side
a rabble of women and children, like the wretched beings which
throng executions, at whom a horseman is spurring his horse, with
uplifted club, while they disperse at full speed in all directions, one
woman holding both hands up to her head. Another group, of
remarkable effect, is that of the Magdalen, a tall and lovely creature,
with long fair hair and slim Florentine figure, who, with her beauti-
ful hands raised, is addressing a Roman horseman clothed in white.
He, like a true cavalier, is bending low and listening courteously
to her. She appeals to him with a modest confidence and dignity,
as if to say, Can nothing be done for our misery, and for that
Mother who stands so piteously there ? For the Virgin, with the
higher feeling of this unknown master, is not fainting here, but
stands, with hands folded, low, the very attitude of sorrow and
resignation. The Maries with her are magnificent beings ; and in
front, gazing upon her, is St. John. The centurion holding up both
mailed hands is there, with two horsemen behind him, leaning for-
ward with piously folded arms, as if catching the sacred infection of
TIHHE
. S . CrLstoforo.
THE CRUCIFIXION CONSIDERED AS A WHOLE. 211
his coDversion — this being also a strictly Scriptural feature ; for St.
Matthew says (xxvii. 54) : ' And they that were with him.' The
scene is thronged with horsemen, with flags and banners, and, in
in the absence of all the more barbarous features, assumes a kind of
splendour seldom associated with the Crucifixion.
Indeed the Italian Crucifixion has always a certain grandeur,
and though seldom conceived with so elevated a feeling as in this
instance, yet may be always said to be without caricature. All
the personages — whether on the left or right side — are alike of a
fine race, and lend themselves to the true characteristics of high
Art.
The Crucifixion in this full dramatic sense is a rare subject after
the 15th century. It was the single Cross, with beautiful and pic-
turesque saints round it, that occupied the Cinquecento. Gaudenzio
Ferrari is an exception. He has three Crucifixions, one pre-emi-
nently gorgeous and elaborate, with the historical and fantastic
elements in equal force ; more beautiful than any other painter in
his angels — as beautiful almost as Raphael in his female figures.
We subjoin an etching.
The German painters, chiefly of the school of Albert Diirer, have
the equivocal merit of giving the most ghastly and horrible charac-
ter to the pictures of the Crucifixion. Perhaps the most repulsive
representation of the principal figure is that by Hans Baldung
Grim, in the Museum at Colmar. We have alluded also to the
conceptions by Aldegrever, &c. In these there is not a part where
the eye of taste or even of devotion can dwell. It is difficult to
understand the thoughts of those who gazed on pictures like these,
for if the wicked on the left side may be conceived to be typified
by figures of the most monstrous ugliness, what business have the
good people on the right to be equally as hideous ? For costume
and for the irony which lurked in all forms before the Reformation,
these pictures offer, however, some compensation. Here we see the
Roman soldiers habited as German burghers in leather cap and
jerkin, while the unbelieving Jews are often ill-favoured monks.
Lucas van Ley den, the Dutchman, has attempted the whole scene
of the Crucifixion in an engraving. The consequence is that the
three crosses, which are very lofty, are distant from the eye. The
moment chosen is when the interest of the scene is just over, for
212 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
the ladders are being placed to break the thieves' legs. Many groups
are coming away, evidently in agitated converse. The soldiers are
quarrelling over the robe, one pulling the other by the beard.
It was reserved for that other Dutchman, above a century later,
to give the impressiveness, and for the first time the picturesque-
ness, of the Crucifixion in comparatively few lines. An etching by
Bembrandt has placed the three crosses in a blaze of light. But it is
a light which is rather brought out by the supernatural darkness
around, for he has chosen the time when there was that darkness
over all the earth in which Jesus, having cried with a loud voice,
gave up the ghost; the moment being indicated by the centurion,
who is on his knees before the Cross. And in considering this sub-
lime work, one is led to believe that the deep under-current of
Rembrandt's intention must be read by this very light ; for with a
strong moral significance it shines on all those to whom the light
of faith or possible repentance was given. The bad thief has his
face averted from it, the good thief hangs with his head upturned
and bathed in radiance. The groups round the Cross, even of those
hitherto indifferent, are glorified by it; one figure clutching his
hair with both hands and looking straight up as if struck with irre-
sistible and sudden conviction, another lying flat on the earth. On
the other hand, numbers are turning from it, and bending their
blind way pertinaciously and hopelessly into the darkness around,
some covering their eyes from it with their wilful hands, while a
large group, in densest obscurity, surrounds a bareheaded old man
going forth in affliction into the deepest shadow. The meaning of
this is doubtful, but it is probable that the figure of the old man
is intended for the Jew Ahasuerus, who, as the story goes, drove
the Lord from his door as He leant against it on His way to
Calvary, and, as a punishment, was condemned to wander while
time should last.
The Crucifixion is rarely seen in any sense in Spain, where Art
was not developed till the Christian traditions on which, it rested
in other countries were forgotten. Spanish Art abounds with
figures of Christ bearing the Cross, but offers hardly an example
of the Christ upon the Cross. The interdict on all exhibition of
the nude was probably in great measure the cause.
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 213
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS.
Ital. II Gristo deposto della Croce. Fr. La Descente de la Croix.
Germ. Die Kreuzabuahme.
THE next act in the great Christian drama is strongly defined
and richly illustrated in Art. Even if the Descent from the Cross
had not been mentioned in Holy Writ, it would have been a
proper subject for Art, for it must have taken place. All four
Evangelists, however, tell of it, and of the persons concerned in
it. All four mention Joseph of Arimathea — ' a counsellor, a good
man and a just, who himself waited for the kingdom of heaven '
— as coming forward to beg the body ' boldly ' of Pilate. There
is every probability, as always represented in the play of the
Passion, that Joseph of Arimathea belonged to the body of the
Sanhedrim, who bribed Judas to betray his Master; for it is added,
t he had not consented to the counsel and deed of them.' Scholastic
theology goes further in interpretation, and for this non-participa-
tion on his part identifies him as the man designated by David in
the first verse of the first Psalm, i Blessed is the man that walketh
not in the counsel of the ungodly.' St. John alone mentions
Nicodemus as bringing spices and assisting in this service of
courage and piety, as helping to take the body from the Cross, to
wrap it in linen, and to deposit it in that new sepulchre, c hewn out
of a rock, wherein was never man yet laid,' which was in a garden,
and which belonged to Joseph of Arimathea — thus fulfilling the
prophecy that He c should make His grave with the rich.' The
importance of the sepulchre being new, and no man having laid in
it, is obvious as preventing any heretical doubts as to who it was
that rose from it.
The figures of Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, therefore, are
always present in Art in this labour of love. The Scriptures further
mention : < And the women also, which came with Him from Galilee,
followed after, and beheld the sepulchre, and how His body was
laid.' These are identified in another Evangelist as i Mary Mag-
214 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
dalene and the other Mary ; ' again, the latter as the ' mother of
Joses.' These, therefore, are present by historical right. The
Virgin Mary and St. John are not mentioned at all, but Art, backed
by scholastic theology, which circumstantially describes them as
actors in this scene, and even gives the very words that passed,
invariably brings in these two tender and sacred figures. Some of
the disciples, too, who had fled, are supposed to have returned to
render sympathy and help, and where the male figures engaged in
taking down the body exceed the three mentioned, they may always
be interpreted as f disciples.' Vasari calls them, ' i Nicodemi.'
Several scenes in Art here closely follow on each other, which are
sometimes confounded in name — the Descent from the Cross — the
Pieta, or Lamenting over the Body — the Bearing it to the Sepulchre
— the Entombment — and the Anointing it in the Tomb. Two of
these are sometimes apparently combined, for there is much lamen-
tation over the body at the Entombment ; but they are separate
scenes in Art and strongly defined in character.
The subject of the Descent from the Cross was attended with
peculiar conditions. The Crucifixion, as we have seen, was
always represented, more or less, as a convention ; for the pro-
prieties of Art forbade too close an adherence to physical truth.
Here, however, the proprieties of Art required a precisely opposite
treatment. The artist had to represent the lowering of a heavy and
inanimate weight, and to represent it as lowered in the most re-
verential manner. To give the slightest appearance of insecurity
would have been as opposed to the feeling of decorum as to me-
chanical laws. Signs of haste or violence were equally objection-
able. The chief requirement here, therefore, was that very study
of physical probability which Art had justly shrunk from in the
previous scene; for the most scientifically mechanical would be
the most reverentially pictorial mode of dealing with this peculiar
subject. We shall see great error in this respect, and those under
the highest names.
The Greek Church has a regular formula for this, as for every
other sacred subject it treats, and one of the most mistaken kind.
' Joseph (of Arimathea) mounts to the top of a ladder, holds the
Christ round the centre of the body, and lets Him down. Below
is the Holy Virgin, standing. She receives the body in her arms,
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 215
and kisses the face. Mary Magdalene takes the right hand of
Christ and kisses it. Behind Joseph is John the Theologian
(Evangelist), who kisses the left hand. Nicodemus stoops, and
draws the nails from the feet of Christ by the aid of pincers — near
him a basket.'1 This composition is occasionally seen. There is
an example, quite in point, in Ottley's ' Florentine School,' from a
picture by a Greek artist of about 1230, in S. Francesco, at Perugia.
The hands of the Christ are already detached from the Cross, and
Joseph of Arimathea is standing on a ladder between the Cross and
the body. This ladder, which supports this double weight of himself
and the body of our Lord, stands at an angle where it would not
keep its place for a second. The Virgin stands below, on a high
narrow stool, in the act of receiving a weight into her arms which
would immediately overpoise her balance. The scene is an impossi-
bility from beginning to end, and therefore looks as improper as
it is awkward and untrue. Whenever we see this form of the
Deposition, even partially followed, a Greek source may be con-
cluded. The chief anomaly is Joseph's position. How came he
there at the back of the figure ? Who has sustained it whilst the
ladder was being adjusted in a place it could not occupy till our
Lord's body was inclined forward, and while Joseph was mounting?
Art represents but one moment, it is true ; but she is bound to ac-
count both for the moments that precede and those that follow.
Duccio, in his Deposition, has followed the Greek type, though
the exquisite beauty of his lines and expression go far to obviate the
faults. The ladder is awry and insecure, and Joseph's position upon
it is false ; but, being there, he is doing his part with intense reality.
His right arm supports the weight of the body, the left is hooked
round the junction of the stem and the transverse beam of the Cross,
thus giving him the means of resistance, while the weight is seen in
that strongly planted foot on the round of the ladder. In this
position he looks compassionately on the Virgin, who, standing at the
foot of the Cross, receives the dead face upon hers, while the arms
fall with lines of deep pathos over her shoulder. Joseph's earnest
look at her is quite in keeping here, for his brave manly strength is
securing her from the possibility of any accident ; while St. John,
instead of the sentimental action of kissing the hand, enjoined by
1 Guide de la Peinture Grecque, p. 197.
216
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
201
Descent from the Cross. (Duccio. Siena. )
tlie Greek Church, is holding the body round the knees, thus adding
further security, while he facilitates the disengaging of the nails of
the feet by Nicodemus (woodcut, No. 201).
Niccolo di Pietro is another painter — scholar of Giotto — who, in
his fresco in the chapter-house of S. Francesco at Pisa, has adhered
in some respects to Greek treatment. His Italian common sense,
and the increasing correctness of Art, are shown in the position
of the ladder ; but the mode in which Joseph holds the body, and
is in the act of transferring it to the outstretched but distant and
feeble arms of St. John, is a parody on all mechanical laws. Only
an infant in weight could be thus held and thus received. To
increase the appearance of improbability, the body of our Lord is
here represented as unusually full, muscular, and large (woodcut,
No. 202).
In all this criticism of the Greek element we would not be
understood to be influenced by the exceeding ugliness and
meagreness of the Greek type of our Lord. Art would not be
Art if she could not make the worst appear the better cause ; or,
in other words, redeem the deficiency of one quality by exceeding
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS.
217
Descent from Cross. (N. di Pietro. Pisa.)
beauty in another. A Deposition by PUCCLO Capanna, in S.
Francesco, at Assisi, engraved in Ottley, is an example of this.
The body of our Lord is all haggard, lean, and angular — the very
exaggeration of Greek ugliness — but seen through the love and
reverence with which it is environed, it appears all transfigured
with Divinity. Joseph of Arimathea sits with it calmly on his
upraised knee, on the broad ladder. The Virgin receives the
upturned and pendent head. One Mary presses her lips to the
meagre bony arm, while another stands waiting for the same privi-
lege. St. John holds the body round the knees, and presses his
face to the limb next to him, while Nicodemus extracts the fourth
nail from the left foot, and the kneeling Magdalen reverentially
holds and kisses the foot that is disengaged. We refer the reader
to the etching in Mrs-. Jameson's ' Legends of the Madonna,' p. 314.
The purely Italian form of the Deposition, which prevailed with
VOL. II. F F
218 • HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
almost unvarying repetition during the 13th and 14th centuries, in
all forms of Art, contrasts strikingly with that we have described.
S. Buenaventura (born 1221), in his contemplation of this particu-
lar scene,1 laid down a precise canon of the form of arrangement
proper to this moment ; and nothing better, in some respects, could
be devised. He thus addresses a Christian desirous to abstract his
mind from worldly things :— ' Consider carefully and deliberately
how Jesus was taken from the Cross. Two ladders were placed
against the arms of the Cross, at each end. Joseph mounts that
on the, right of the Saviour, and endeavours to draw the nail from
the hand. This gives him much trouble, for the nail is thick and
long, and deeply buried in the wood, and it does not appear that
it can be drawn without cruelly pressing the hand of the Lord.
The nail being taken out, St. John makes a sign to Joseph to give
it to him, so that our Lady may not see it. Nicodemus then draws
the nail from the left hand, and also gives it to St. John. Then
Nicodemus descends and begins to take the nail from the feet' (the
two nails had just given place to one only when the saint wrote
this), 'while Joseph sustains the body of our Lord' (in front).
* Happy Joseph, who deserved thus to embrace Him ! The right
hand of Jesus remains suspended. Our Lady lifts it with respect,
approaches it to her eyes, contemplates it and kisses it, while inun-
dating it with tears, and uttering mournful sighs.'
This form is precisely what we find in all miniatures, ivories,
and enamels which succeeded the probable spread of these words.
Joseph of Arimathea is invariably seen supporting the body in front
— the heaviest part of which falls over his shoulders, thus resting
where a man can best bear a great weight; while the pendent
right hand and arm are in the tender grasp of the Mother. This
composition is positively stereotyped during the 14th century, till
which time, indeed, it was a rare subject. Nevertheless there is
.evidence that this form of composition preceded the directions
given by S. Buenaventura. Their very precision, indeed, argues
the probability of a definite object before his eyes. Niccolo Pisano's
Deposition — a bas-relief over the door of the Lucca Cathedral —
was executed eleven years after S. Buenaventura was born. This,
1 Contemplatio Vitse Chriati.
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 219
in the main features, embodies his description : an engraving of it
will he found in Mrs. Jameson's ' Legends of the Madonna.'
But there is a far earlier instance of this form, as regards the
position of Joseph and the Mother towards the body, which, though
doubtless unknown South of the Alps, is an indication of how the
subject was treated. It is a bas-relief of the Descent from the
Cross, described as being rudely hewn in a mass of peculiarly
formed rock, on the road between Paderborn and Horn, in West-
phalia.1 It is colossal in size, being about 20 feet high. The
figure of the Christ is about double the height of that of Joseph
of Arirnathea. Nevertheless he receives the body in front over his
shoulders, his head bowed forward, and his whole position, though
he has but one leg left, showing natural resistance to the weight,
while the Virgin's almost obliterated figure still indicates that her
head is bent tenderly over the right arm of her Son. This work is
supposed to be of the 10th century. It is most curious. The sun
and moon, in their classic figures, are on each side above, veiling
their orbs with drapery ; while on the transverse beam, on the right
side, is the figure of the Almighty, with cruciform nimbus and the
banner of Victory — therefore under the semblance of Christ —
holding the little soul of Jesus in His arms, while He looks down
on the dead body whence it has fled.
Mature Italian Art did not improve upon S. Buenaventura's
arrangement. As we advance, the task itself becomes more difficult
— the Cross is much higher, and the mode of lowering the body
necessarily more complicated. To meet this, a long breadth of cloth,
like a strong bandage, is slung around the body, the ends held by
a figure or figures on the ground, while another aloft, whose hands
act like pulleys through which this cloth slips, regulates the lower-
ing, and thus relieves the figure on another ladder, who is receiving
the weight. But even where this mechanical appliance is skilfully
managed, other elements disturb the scene — women press forward,
or lie in the way, interfering with men's earnest and dangerous
labour, and distracting their attention at a critical moment ; for the
tender ministration of the Mother of Jesus is now exchanged for her
fainting figure, with the women around her ; or a false desire to
1 Kinkle's Geschichte der bildenden Kiinste, p. 239, and engraving.
220 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
represent gracefully -floating masses and flowing lines takes preced-
ence of the more rigid laws of gravitation, and gives us representa-
tions in which the next move will be a catastrophe.
Luca Signorelli, in his picture engraved by Rosini,1 is foremost
in this false walk. Bone and muscle will hardly hold that weight
for a moment, as it is represented suspended between the two arms
of the figures on the ladder ; for the long strip of linen does not,
to all appearance, sustain the body at all, being only invisibly, if
at all, passed behind through a slight belt round the body, which
is scarcely seen in the bend of the waist. Such contrivances are not
legitimate in Art, which must openly show its resources. At the
foot stands the Magdalen, impotently holding up one hand, appar-
ently more to catch the blood than the feet, past which rope of sand
we feel the body will fall headlong in a moment full on the Virgin,
who has fainted directly below, and on the women who are busied
about her. Another woman, unaware of the impending peril,
stands with folded hands looking at her ; and St. John, a great
stalwart young man, instead of assisting in the serious labour going
on behind, stands in an attitude, with his back to his dead Master
and his hand pointing to the Virgin, soliciting our attention to the
wrong thing. A falser picture of the scene, physically and spirit-
ually, can hardly be conceived.
Michael Angelo's small clay model of the Descent from the Cross
— an early work, now seen in the Casa Buonarroti at Florence — fur-
nishes irrefutable evidence of the entire dereliction of all Christian
feeling in Art in his time. It may safely be asserted that no other
artist has ventured so entirely to forget the divinity of the figure
in its mere mortal lifelessness. It is simply a dead body they are
lowering, and that with an utter disregard to decorum. Nor are
the commonest conditions of safety regarded, so that the terrified
actions of those below become the chief, because the truest, idea
presented to the eye. Even the Virgin, though preparing to faint,
looks for the moment more alarmed than afflicted.
Nor is Raphael, in his design engraved by Marc Antonio, less to
be criticised, except that even his faults are clad in beauty of form,
which is an atonement Luca Signorelli never makes us. In this
1 Storia della Pittura Italiana.
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS.
221
composition the figure of our Lord, if it does not fall, which is
an imminent conclusion, must stay where it *is (woodcut, No.
203). Not one inch lower can it descend, for the lower it comes,
Descent from Cross. (Raphael. M. Antonio etching.)
the wider apart will be those two figures on the opposing ladders,
who now only just reach the head and the feet.1 Below, again, lies
the Virgin, with three women about her.
1 Zani mentions a drawing by Raphael (vol. viii. p. 168), in which a third figure, 'che
si trova necessarissimo al soggetto,' is placed below between the two ladders. He wonders
222 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Razzi, again, in his Deposition at Siena, is amenable to the same
criticism. St. John in these pictures has anything but a compli-
mentary position. Razzi shows two figures on high ladders descend-
ing with their burden with the utmost difficulty, and evidently not
knowing how to advance another step, while St. John stands crying
below and covering his face.
Daniel da Volterra's Descent from the Cross is one of the cele-
brated pictures in the world, and has very grand features. The
body is not skilfully sustained, nevertheless the number of strong
men engaged about it makes up in sheer muscle for the absence of
skill. Here are four ladders against the Cross, stalwart figures
standing, ascending, and descending upon each, so that the space be-
tween the Cross and the ground is absolutely alive with magnificent
lines. The Virgin lies on one side, and is like a grand creature
struck down by a sudden death-blow. She has fallen, like Ananias
in Raphael's cartoon, with her head bent backwards, and her arm
under her. The crown of thorns has been taken from the dead
brow, and rests on the end of one of the ladders. In these Italian
versions of the 15th and 16th centuries, and in all later forms of
Art, Nicodemus is no longer seen detaching the feet, but the body is
altogether free from the Cross; indeed, the arrangement has be-
come quite arbitrary.
After contemplating these conceptions of the Deposition in which
a certain parade of idle sorrow, vehement action, and pendent im-
possibilities are conspicuous, it is a relief to turn to one who here, as
ever, stands alone in his mild glory. Fra Angelico's Descent, painted
for the SS. Trinita at Florence (to retrace somewhat our steps chrono-
logically), now in the Accademia there, is the perfect realisation of
the most pious idea. No more Christian conception of the subject,
and no more probable setting forth of the scene, can perhaps be
attained. All is holy sorrow, calm and still ; the figures move gently
and speak in whispers. No one is too excited to help, or not to
hinder. Joseph and Nicodemus, known by their glories, are highest
in the scale of reverential beings who people the ladder, and make it
almost look as if it lost itself, like Jacob's, in heaven. They each
hold an arm close to the shoulder. Another disciple sustains the
that Marc Antonio should not have known this improved edition of the composition. Yet
even so it must have been still defective.
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS.
223
204
Descent from Cross. (Fra Angelico. Accademia, Florence.)
body as he sits on the ladder, a fourth receives it under the knees ;
and St. John, a figure of the highest beauty of expression, lifts his
224 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
hands and offers his shoulder to the precious burden, wherein another
moment it will safely and tenderly repose. The figure itself is
ineffably graceful with pathetic helplessness, but ' Corona Gloriae,'
victory over the old enemy, surrounds a head of divine peace. He
is restored to His own, and rests among them with a security as if
He knew the loving hands so quietly and mournfully busied about
Him. And His peace is with them already : ' Peace I leave with
you, my peace I give unto you.' In this picture it is as if the pious
artist had sought first the kingdom of God, and all things, even in
Art, had been added unto him. He who could hardly set a figure
in action, or paint the development of a muscle, here puts Luca Sig-
norelli, Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Razzi to shame, in his quiet
success in one of the most difficult of subjects. Pious carefulness
and earnest decorum here do even this hard work far better than the
most ostentatious display of anatomical knowledge and physical
strength. We have taken only the centre group (the size forbidding
more), leaving out the sorrowing women on the right, with the
Mother piously kneeling with folded hands, as if so alone she could
worthily take back that sacred form. In front kneels some beati-
fied saint, and on the left is another saint holding the crown of
thorns and nails in his hands, as he shows them with sorrowful
gestures to several other figures.
The action of showing or looking at the nails is frequent, and,
like other conceits, seldom becoming the occasion. Here, however,
it assumes a purely devotional meaning, separate from the picture,
though in keeping with its character.
The Deposition was a favourite subject with Rogier van der Wey-
den. It is seen by him both in the Madrid Gallery and in the
Louvre. It was next taken up by Rubens and Rembrandt. But
here the object had again changed — effects of light, breadth of
masses, or fine colour, had become the aim. Most of our readers
know Rubens' celebrated picture of the Deposition in the Cathedral
at Antwerp ; and few, except professed connoisseurs, if they spoke
the truth, but would confess that the picture give them no great
sense of pathos or fitness. This is natural, for Rubens seldom gives
us either, and not at all in his great Deposition. His aim is the
same here as it would be with a lion-hunt, or a Bacchanal, viz.,
movement, light, and colour. He shows his mastery over two of
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 225
these qualities by placing his figure upon a whijte sheet, which
descends through the picture in a stream of light. The most we
know of the Magdalen kneeling at the foot is, that her hair is of
gold, and her dress of the most luscious green ; and of the Virgin,
that she stands in half-mourning, as in> the great Crucifixion, like a
declaiming actress. A stroke worthy of Rubens (and he was one of
the greatest painters in the world) is that ruddy masculine figure
above, who, having both brawny arms fully occupied, holds the
sheet of white linen, on which the body of the Lord rests, between
his teeth.
Rembrandt, in his large etching, appeals almost more exclusively
than Rubens to the perception of the artist, rather than, in this
instance, to the sympathy of the Christian ; though, as we have
seen, no one had greater power to do that also. The body of our
Lord is a repelling caricature, in the flaccid truth with which it falls,
all heaped together, into the arms of those who hold it — one arm
clutched up by the bend of the elbow, with desperate and indecorous
force, by a figure on the ladder. But fall on this confused mass falls
a ray of light which is enough for those who seek in Rembrandt for
what Rembrandt always gives. Through the surrounding gloom,
too, may be discerned figures, uncouth, but full of mysterious
earnestness ; while the background, with the grand tower of an
Amsterdam church by way of the city of Jerusalem, is seen through
that ' dim religious light ' in which lay the great man's chief
spirituality of expression.
VOL. II.
226 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE PIETA ; OR, THE LAMENTATION OF THE VIRGIN, THE MARIES,
AND OTHERS, OVER THE BODY OF CHRIST.
Ital, Cristo morto in Grembo di Maria. Fr. Le Christ mort sur les Genoux de la Vierge.
Germ. Der todte Christus im Schoosse der Maria.
THE word Pieta represents a class of subjects rather than one parti-
cular incident. It is applied, in the sense of an actual scene, to three
different moments ; namely, to that immediately succeeding the
Descent from the Cross — to the carrying the body to the sepulchre,
and to the placing it in the tomb, or the Entombment : that is to
say, it is applied to these two last when accompanied by gestures
of grief; so that the Entombment, for instance, under these cir-
cumstances, becomes a Pieta as well. The first moment which we
consider here, when the body is received on its descent by the
afflicted Mother and other women, is always a Pieta — a word for
which no other language has the same conciseness of term. It is
represented within view of the foot of the Cross, or of the sepulchre
in the rock.
This incident has no mention in the Gospels ; but Art would have
been cold in feeling and barren in invention if she had not perceived
a vacant place here, waiting to be filled with one of the most touch-
ing scenes that Nature presents. For it was the old as it is the
ever new story, that Lamentation over the Dead — transmitted from
mortal generation to generation in Nature's unbroken descent — the
very word an echo, as M. Didron observes, from the ancient funeral
obsequies, and here, as concerning this sacred body, strictly legiti-
mate in its intense humanity. For does not He who had taught,
and ministered, and healed the sick, and raised the dead, lie dead
here Himself, with no other Christ on earth to bid Him rise and
live ! Right was it, therefore, that Art should show, as it oftenest
did, this Mother and these friends mourning as those who have no
hope, ' for as yet they knew not the Scriptures that He should, rise
again.' Thus the Pieta, to those who consider some of its finest
examples, has a twofold sense — the sorrow of a Mother weeping
THE PIETJL 227
for her Son, and also the last strong cry of our humanity, here, as
it were, fitly wound up into one burst of lamentation for Him whose
resurrection in three days' time was to give the first certain pledge
of His own and His followers' life beyond.
Yet natural as this subject appears, it was not of early invention.
The very word Pieta would have found no place in early Art, when
Faith, and not Pity, was the paramount object. There was too
much excitement here for early reverence — the difficulty also of
representing the nude had probably its weight. It may be doubted
whether this subject arose in Italy before the 13th century, when
Art and Nature began to recognise what each could do for the
other ; and it would be difficult to determine whether the pen of
the writer or the pencil of the painter took the initiative. The
mediaeval saints were not scrupulous in furnishing close descrip-
tions of this lamentation over the body of our Lord — pious frauds
by which to stimulate sympathy for a sorrow intelligible to the
hardest heart; not recognising that all stimulants have a tendency
to increase in use, and to destroy finally what they were intended
to revive.
S. Buonaventura thus continues his imaginary sketches from the
tragedy at Calvary : 4 The nail being extracted from the feet, Joseph
descended, and all received the body, and placed it on the ground.
Our Lady sustained the head and shoulders on her lap ; the Mag-
dalen the feet, next which she had formerly found such grace ;
others stood around, all making great lamentations — all weeping
for Him as bitterly as for a first-born.'
The Greek formula differs little from the picture thus suggested,
except that the Virgin kneels and leans over Him, the Christ being
' eteudu sur une grande pierre carree.' It is also more passionate in
expression, for the Maries ' s'arrachent les cheveux ' — a relic of
antique custom of which only Donatello in the Italian school, here-
after to be mentioned, furnishes an example. A specimen of a Pieta
by a Greek painter (1250), with the Virgin kneeling at the head
of the body and fainting in that position (woodcut, 205, over leaf),
while the Saviour lies straight on an oblong raised stone, is in that
temple of early Italian Art, the Church of S. Francesco, at Assisi.
But Cimabue, treating the same subject, in the upper part of the
same church, places the Christ already on the lap of the Virgin,
228
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
205
Greek Pieta.
though adhering to the Greek formula in making St. John kiss the
hand. There is no vehemence of passion, however, except on the
.part of the angels above, one of whom tears its cheeks.
Giotto has the subject in his treasure-house, the Arena Chapel.
But, instead of the Virgin, a male figure apparently supports, leans
over, and embraces the head and shoulders of the Lord. The in-
juries, however, passive and active, which these frescoes have re-
ceived, may account for this change of parts. The figure is not
St. John, whose gesture of anguish, as he stands over the body,
remains, after the treatment of the Pieta by many generations
of artists, unrivalled in dramatic force.
Ambrogio Lorenzetti's picture in the Academy at Siena, of
which we give an etching, is one which strikingly illustrates the
words of S. Buonaventura. From the mention that the upper part
of the body rested on the Virgin's lap, it may be inferred that the
rest was sustained by others. Accordingly we see that the women
E-i
* I
H Is
ft §
s
THE PIET!. 229
have ranged themselves along under it — Martha in the centre, the
Magdalen at the feet — each taking a portion of the precious burden
on their knees; while another Mary flings up her arms in the
antique action of despair — sometimes given to the Virgin, some-
times to St. John, but later more generally identified with the
passionate grief of the Magdalen. On the right are seen Joseph
of Arimathea bearing the linen cloth, and Nicodemus with a large
urn, though not more than adequate to contain ' the mixture of
myrrh and aloes, about an hundredweight.' Lazarus is also here
— an appropriate figure over the body of One who had restored
him to life.
Fra Angelico, as might be predicated, treated this subject. It
occurs in the series of the Passion painted on small panels forming
the doors of a press which contained the Eucharistic vessels in the
Chapel of the Nunziata at Florence, now in the Accademia there.
The body is sustained against one knee of the Mother, who kneels
on the other. She does not even caress the lifeless form — that
would have been too free for Fra Angelico. It is the grief that has
no tears, only the clasped hands and the fixed gaze. The same
decorum prevails among those aroand. It is the same sacred body
that has been lowered with such reverence and quiet ; no one ven-
tures to touch it — only the Magdalen bends forward on her knees,
and just touches the tips of the fingers with her lips. The body,
as is usual in these early and reverential conceptions, which have
also far more possibility in them than the later more arbitrary
forms, lies, carefully straightened, in the cloth by which it will be
carried to the tomb, and finally placed in it.
Fra Angelico has the subject again in S. Marco, treated with great
beauty, but here we have the traces of St. Brigitta's visions. She
relates that, on being brought down from the Cross, ' the arms were
found so stiff that they could not fold them over His chest, but only
over the stomach.' St John, in this picture, is seen gently bending
the arms, the hands of which will only just cross. This is the
position, whether owing to St. Brigitta's revelations or not, which
is almost invariably seen in the representations of this scene before
the 16th century.
Donatello, in his Pulpit of S. Lorenzo, has a Pieta, in which
the Furies seem broken loose, not one woman only, but all have
230
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
dishevelled hair, so that the Magdalen cannot be identified. Two
are tearing their locks ; one, strange to say, with great tufts
of hair thus plucked out in her hands (wood-
cut, No. 206) ; two more have tossed their
arms wildly aloft. It is an incomprehensibla
production. No wonder Donatello is reported
to have regretted that he had made the ex-
pression of physical so far exceed that of
moral grief. This is not grief at all, but
most unseemly frenzy.
Nevertheless, there were painters who could
approach even this frenzied phase of grief
without offending. Sandro Botticelli — that
painter of Titanic forms and normal emotions
— of man and woman, like full-grown but
tragic children without disguise — has left one
of the two most passionate conceptions of this
subject that exist (the other being by Man-
tegna; see etching, p. 239). It is now in the
Munich Gallery. The Virgin, on a raised seat,
has fainted, with the body of our Lord on her
knees, which would fall to the ground but for
St. John, who holds both the insensible Mother
and the dead Son; one woman at the head,
another at the feet, in gestures of overpower-
ing anguish, are too distracted to give any help. The Magdalen
plunges her face into her hands. These women, with their heads
bent&down and their grand tragic eyelids, are like creatures intoxi-
cated with grief; they know not what they do. Behind them yawns
a dark cave in the rock, which marvellously increases the mournful
character of the picture— it is < the pit' to which all mortality de-
scends, shutting out light and hope. Three aged saints behind,
pursuing their customary vocations — St. Jerome beating his breast
are quite a relief to contemplate in this hurricane of woe.
In suggestive contrast to such as this— widely apart as the schools
whence they sprung— is Perugino's exquisite picture in the^Pitti,
a work in which there are more beautiful heads than perhap < in any
other m the world. Here all is quiet and decorous sorrow. The
206 One of the Maries in
Pieta. (Donatello. S. Lo-
renzo.)
THE PIETl.
Mother, with her face of patient pathos, gives the key-note to those
who press gently around. She is able to kneel, with His hand laid
on hers, and to look into that face which one of the Maries devoutly
holds up to her gaze. Unlike that cry of excessive hut uncarica-
tured grief, which rises from such pictures as Sandro Botticelli's
and Mantegna's, scarcely a sound is heard here. There is hope
in these mourners, and therefore there is submission. The women
weep, but the men not, though Joseph of Arimathea, who sustains
the upper part of the body, averts his head lest the face of the
Virgin should overset his self-control. Grief here only beautifies
these faces ; in Sandro Botticelli and Mantegua, such is its tre-
mendous truth, that we care not how it distorts them.
Another conception of this subject represents a form of composi-
tion in which the figures are only half-length, and therefore brought
nearer to us, rendering the expression of the head the principal aim.
Bellini and Mantegna are masters here. The one may be studied
in the Academy at Florence, and Mantegna in the Brera. Crivelli
took up the same form, as seen in his picture in Lord Dudley's
gallery. In these representations the grief cannot be called cari-
catured— it is too true, though at a stage which, being beyond the
power of concealment, is seldom looked upon.
Raphael's Pieta is so exquisite in beauty and grace of lines, and
in single figures, that it is difficult to judge it coolly as regards the
rendering of the subject, in which respect one may venture to pro-
nounce it far inferior to Perugino's. Here, also, the main object is
forgotten, for all the attention is devoted to the Virgin. The action
of lifting her veil, too, is trivial, and does not explain itself ; nor
is the manner in which the body is held across the knees by the
Magdalen devotional, or scarcely respectful. St. John's figure is
beautiful, but his grief is not for the right object.
Fra Bartolomeo is one of the last of the Italians who gives us
a genuine Pieta : it is in the Pitti. And here the great agony is
over, and it is affection rather than grief that is expressed (wood-
cut, No. 207, over leaf).
With the great colourists and draughtsmen of the 16th century
the Pieta lost all pathos, as it discarded all tradition. Michael
Angelo's repeated version of this subject will never draw a sigh.,
The eye turns unwillingly from the placid straightened bod) of our
232
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
207
Pieta. (Fra Bartolomeo. Pitti.)
Lord lying peacefully in its winding-sheet, and ready to be borne
farther with ease and reverence, which we have hitherto contem-
plated, to the huge muscular development which lies apparently
as it fell, and is totally beyond the management of the women or
angels about it. Not from their want of strength, however, for
they are all bone and muscle too, but from the irreverent clumsiness
with which they are hoisting up the flaccid mass. They are all
conscious, also, of being looked at by the spectator : the very body
has the same expression.
We turn to the early Art of the North for the traditional Pieta.
The two great masters — father and son — Rogier van der Weyden,
the elder and younger — were masters of that intensity of expression
which alone could beautify their austere and homely types of coun-
tenance. This, perhaps, led them to choose the group of subjects
succeeding the crucifixion, as they did the Ecce Homo, as their
favourite study. A Pieta in Berlin (No. 554 A), by the elder
THE PIETA. 233
Rogier is one which few will look at unmoved. The Virgin seated
with Christ on her lap, her beautiful hands clasped round the body,
has a pathos which the painter has made doubly moving to us by
its effect on the young St. John. With his face all streaming
with grief, not for her, he tenderly touches her shoulder — a useless
action, but one we all know well, expressive at once of that longing
and powerlessness to comfort which is the essence of sympathy.
Such pictures are an evidence of the power Art has over us — the
truer for being indescribable by words, in proportion to their effect
on the mind.
Albert Diirer's Pieta is an unmitigated horror. St. John holds
the Saviour on his lap, while the Mother stands preparing to wipe
either the wounded hands or her own eyes with her dress.
The Italians took up the subject again in the late Bolognese
school. The Carracci, both Lodovico and Annibale, were fond of
it.
Annibale Carracci's Pieta at Castle Howard — called the Dead
Christ and Maries — is an epoch in the subject, and combines very
great qualities. But it is too artificial in arrangement to touch the
feelings deeply. The three figures lie too symmetrically, each in.
the lap of the other, while the expression of the two grand creatures,
leaning over with horror-struck visages, has an antique rather than
a Christian pathos.
The time had now come, both in Southern and Northern schools,
when a false taste disfigured this subject. All these admonitions
on the part of fervent saints to contemplate the bodily sufferings
of the Redeemer had gradually led to the substitution of the shadow
for the substance. The instruments of the Passion and the wounds
of Christ were invested with morbid and familiar importance.
The very words c God's wounds ' became first a profane oath, and
later, a profaner contraction. The Virgin herself was stated by St.
Brigitta to have habitually contemplated these wounds in prophetic
vision, long before the Saviour's death, which, by the way, would
render the unresigued and unprepared part she is made to play in
several generations of Art the more inconsistent. In most of the
Pietas of the 16th and 17th centuries, accordingly, a mawkish
sentimentality takes the place of reverent feeling. The women are
made contemplating thj wounds, or one little whimpering angel
VOL. n. H H
234 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
holds the hand, and points out the print of the nail to two large
angels looking compassionately over, with much the same expression
that tender sisters would look at a cut thumb ; or the nails are the
centre of attention and despair, as if they were to blame ; or St.
John pricks his fingers in feeling the sharpness of the crown of
thorns. As an Italian writer says, speaking of this subject : 1
' Little griefs fritter themselves away with the analysis of the causes
for the affliction, while great griefs remain absorbed in a synthesis
of infinite bitterness. Hence the mind predisposed to console
itself bestows its lamentation on the livid wounds, the spent eye,
the hair dabbled in blood, and such like. On the contrary, the
heart that is desolate for ever concentrates all feeling on the one
great fact which takes away the power of thought or speech.' At
this time the Virgin, with perfect consistency, instead of bending
over her Son, or wrapping Him in a terrible embrace, spreads her
hands, and raises her eyes to heaven, not, as some writers interpret
it, as offering Him to God, but much more as if demanding why
He had taken Him.
Rubens and Van Dyck both conceive the subject in this sense.
Both saw in it the capability for the display of their transcendent
technical powers ; and though with each it has successfully answered
that purpose, yet with neither has it served any other.
Rubens' picture of the Pieta in the Antwerp Museum is even too
disagreeable for his glorious colour to redeem. The Christ lies fore-
shortened in the lap of the Virgin, who, leaning over the head, is
engaged in closing one of the eyes. This wretched conceit, how-
ever it may sound in words, looks in the picture like a surgical
operation, at which the Magdalen, holding one of the arms, and
looking closely at the act, seems to be assisting. In this, and in
most late representations of the scene, the Magdalen has her vase
of ointment at her side, doubtless referring to the words when she
originally poured the ointment on His head — < She has done it to
my burial.' The idea that she assisted in the anointing of the
body would be a false interpretation. This attribute, however,
which gives the ideal view of her character, accords ill with the
very realistic scene in which she is at this period usually engaged.
In many instances the discrepancy is increased by its standing side
1 (ruerazzi's text to the Pieth, by Perugino in the engravings of the Pitti Gallery.
THE VIRGIN AND DEAD CHRIST ALONE. 235
by side with a matter-of-fact vessel ; very offensive • here — viz., the
brass basin and sponge with which the body has been washed.
This odious accessory, borrowed from the barber-surgeon or under-
taker, is unworthy of Art, which, like Fiction, is interdicted such
details. The old artists fell into no such mistakes; they had
better judgment, because greater feeling.
THE VIRGIN AND DEAD CHRIST ALONE.
THIS form cannot be said to aim at the representation of the actual
scene. It was probably intended more exclusively as one of the
seven sorrows of the Virgin. It may also have been influenced by
the conditions of Scripture, in which it frequently finds expression,
and which did not permit of more than two figures. It often appears
in terra cotta.
Michael Angelo's group in St. Peter's — the cast of which is in
the Crystal Palace — will occur to all. This was an early work, and
is the best of all his numerous designs for this subject. His Virgin's
head, generally of an unsympathetic type, is here appropriate in
its grandly abstract and solemn character — a grief locked within,
stony as the material in which it is rendered. The criticism of
the time upon the youthfulness of her appearance was not much
more absurd than 'his answer — that the purity of her life had pre-
served her freshness. Intense feeling — and nothing less can be
attributed to the Mother of the Man of Sorrows — is not a preserva-
tive of youthful looks. Nor was the criticism true ; for, like Michael
Augelo's other Madonnas, and here more in character, the face is
angular and haggard. The curious flatness of the Saviour's face is
supposed to have been owing to a miscalculation of the size of the
marble.
Raphael's drawing, engraved by Marc Antonio, is another well-
known composition. Mrs. Jameson has given an illustration of it
in p. 37 of her ' Legends of the Madonna,' where she has also
entered into the subject of this form of Pieta.
236
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE VIRGIN WITH THE DEAD CHRIST AND ANGELS.
THIS conception places the subject at once out of the range of fact,
and greatly contributes to its beauty. It is as if the Virgin's grief
were placed on the same sublime category with those of angelic beings
—theirs not having become human, but hers heavenly. Francia's
touching picture in the National Gallery is the most elevated con-
ception of this form (woodcut, No. 208). Nowhere, perhaps, is the
Pieta. Virgin and Augels. (F. Francia. National Gallery.)
true Mother of Christ — in age, dignity, intellectual grandeur, and
religious strength, all chastened by the sad baptism of tears — so
truly rendered as here. This is true religious Art. It may be
observed that the angels are not intended to be visible to her—
which is the right thought. They are not sent as messengers to
assist her; nor does that faithful handmaiden need, like Elisha,
that the mortal mists should be cleared from her eyes to enable her
to believe in the ministers of grace which surround her. Thus they
help. not in sustaining the body: the one at the feet only clasps
its own hands, without touching the Christ ; the other, by a
THE VIRGIN WITH THE DEAD CHRIST AND ANGELS. 237
strange yet pathetic action, passes its hands through part of the
delicate auburn hair. The body of the Lord is beautiful, with a
character peculiar to itself — a refinement of colour, features, and
form, over which mental but not physical anguish appears to have
passed.
Michael Angelo's conception of women, angels, and grief was
strangely opposed to the foregoing. His two little thick-legged
angels without wings are as tangible as they are perceptible to the
Virgin. She seems to have consigned to their clumsy little arms
the charge of the body, which but for them would tumble from its
place against her knees — her hands and her eyes being alike up-
lifted in apparent expostulation. (See ' Legends of the Madonna/
illustration, p. 37.)
Guido has this subject in the upper part of his great votive
picture for the plague in the Bologna Gallery. Here the particular
intention of the picture justifies the Virgin's appeal to Heaven,
with whom she is intended to be interceding, 'by His precious
death and burial,' for the afflicted cit}', a view of which, with its
leaning towers, is below. Nothing can be grander than her figure
and face here, which might serve as an abstract female personi-
fication of Fortitude and Faith.
Lodovico Carracci goes^ out of the beaten path, and ventures to
give the Virgin fainted, with her Son on her knees. The expression
of the two terrified angels over her shoulder is very peculiar. It is
a beautiful composition.
The same subject, with Nicodemus also present, by Cigoli, is
in the Vienna Gallery. Here the Virgin's head is beautiful and
tender; but the two angels in the background are marred in expres-
sion by holding a cloth with the nails, which they are sentimentally
contemplating.
Van Dyck treated this form more than once. The Virgin is
peculiarly unsympathetic, with her theatrically raised arms and
protesting, upcast head^ intended to show his power of foreshorten-
ing, while his angels are examples of the worst sentimentality we
have alluded to.
238 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE BEARING THE BODY OF CHRIST TO THE SEPULCHRE.
Ital. II Cristo morto portato al Sepolcro.
THIS incident does not occur with sufficient frequency in Art to
have obtained any settled form of representation. Like other
amplifications of the story of the Passion, it was probably the
offspring of the fervid 13th century, though the chief series of
Italian Art are without it. Andrea Pisano gives the carrying of
the body of John the Baptist to his grave on the doors of the
Baptistery at Florence ; but not that of our Lord. Scripture has
but one passage which alludes to this incident, namely, Luke xxiii.
55 : i And the women also, which came with Him from Galilee,
followed of ter , and beheld the sepulchre, and how His body was laid.'
These words, which positively show the position of the women, were
not borne in mind by S. Buonaventura, who, giving a fluent account
of the bearing of the body, states that the Virgin carried the head
and shoulders, the Magdalen the feet, while the others held the
body in the centre. Art, fortunately, has not availed herself of this
imaginary picture ; no such anomaly as the Virgin bearing the chief
weight of the body, or any portion of it, being known, though, in
an Entombment presently to be mentioned, she assists to lay Him
in the tomb. All pictures of the scene of transit always place a
strong man — the one Nicodemus, the other Joseph of Arimathea —
at the head and foot. For this subject, like that of the Descent from
the Cross, offers mechanical difficulties which only the appearance
of sufficient mechanical resources can reverentially overcome. The
painters of the Pieta had bequeathed a not contemptible appliance
for this purpose ; for the winding-sheet in which they had laid the
sacred form offered a convenient mode of lifting it from the ground
and conveying it to the tomb. In that cloth it rested easily, the
ends being held at head and foot by strong hands. Mantegna, whose
engraving of this subject is one of his most remarkable compositions
(we give an etching from it), was sufficiently early in reverence
of feeling to perceive the propriety of this mode of moving an
THE BEARING THE BODY OF CHRIST TO THE SEPULCHRE. 239
object at once so ponderous and so sacred. The figures at head and
foot, who hold the cloth with both hands, are magnificent specimens
of athletic power rightly poised. The one at the foot, though pro-
bably intended for Nicodemus, is in that grand costume of a Roman
soldier which lent itself to the great master's drawing of the figure.
The group is close to the tomb, which, by a pardonable fiction, is
made a separate monument, with a rocky cave behind it, and the
next action will be to turn so as to bring the body alongside of it.
This Bearing to the Tomb, as we have mentioned, generally included
some of the features of a Pieta : in Mantegna's engraving these are
of the most passionate kind. At the sight of this display of un-
governable grief, the most tragic images of Nature's sorrow de-
scribed by the poets occur to the mind. Hecuba's passion, Lear's
rage, are all here written in characters of analogous woe. These
are the paroxysms of no common race of creatures. They are of
that splendid type of Nature's children whose actions become the
more dignified the less they are restrained. However violent the
agitation, it is, like the ocean in its fury, never too disturbed to be
sublime. A reduced illustration of this subject can serve little more
than the purpose of a map of reference. The fainting of the Virgin
has here a peculiar propriety. She is thus protected from the tem-
pest of her own sorrow, which, in Mantegna's hands, would have
been incompatible with the sanctity of her character. What the
Mother's affliction would have been may be inferred from that of
the beloved disciple, who stands at her side literally roaring with
grief, his mouth wide open. In words this presents an indecorous
image ; but such art justifies itself to the spectator, who gazes with
the more admiration upon a magnificence of treatment capable of
dignifying elements so disfiguring. In these tremendous aspects
of human emotion lay one phase of Mantegna's multiform force.
He especially understood how to extend the human mouth without
lapsing into caricature ; and in no other conception of St. John,
by any other master, shall we find the idea of a young, strong, and
sorrow-convulsed man so grandly expressed.
It is curious how the winding-sheet — that necessary feature for
the reverential carriage of the body — gradually shortens and loses
its office as time began to place the technical qualities of Art before
the sanctities of tradition. Raphael's picture of this subject, in the
240
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Borghese Palace, although meriting all its fame in respect of draw-
ing, expression, and knowledge, has lost all signs of reverential
feeling in the persons of the bearers. The reduced size of the
winding-sheet is to blame for this, by bringing them rudely in
contact with their precious burden (woodcut, No. 209). Nothing
209
Carrying to Tomb. (Raphael).
can be finer than their figures, or more satisfactory than their labour,
if we forget what it is they are carrying ; but it is the weight of
their burden only, and not the character of it, which the painter
has kept in view, and we feel that the results would have been the
same had these figures been carrying a sack of sand. Here, from
the youth of the figure, the bearer at the feet appears to be St.
John.
THE BEARING THE BODY OP CHRIST TO THE SEPULCHRE.
241
Titian gives the same moment in his fine picture in the Louvre.
But he errs more than Raphael, inasmuch as the body of the
Saviour is of a heavier type, and the bearers not so earnest in
their labour. The cloth, in which they are making-believe to lift
it, is not even drawn tight beneath the weight; Joseph of Arimathea,
who has the whole burden on his arms, and whose feet will soon be
entangled in his own scarf, is putting forth no strength, while St.
John's gentle hold of the dead hand will never support the figure
for an instant.
Tintoretto represents a further phase in this scnool of picturesque
irreverence. In his picture in the Stafford Gallery, the chief weight
The Bearing to the Sepulchre. (Rembrandt etching.)
of the body is supported, we know not how, by bandages not taut
and hands not firm, while a figure in front, with his head between
the Lord's knees, carries the legs hanging over his shoulders.
Long after these painters, and in the cold regions of the North,
came at last that wonderful man who rekindled the worn-out sub-
ject of Christian Art with an earnestness of his own. Rembrandt's
etching of the Bearing to the Sepulchre is all that is intelligible,
possible, decorous, and pathetic (woodcut, No. 210). There is no
VOL. IT. I i
242 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
hoisting or dragging of such a burden. There is no anatomical
display in the figures that do their work, and no aristocratic
nonchalance in those who shirk it ; but the body lies, placid and
beautiful, upon a simple bier, and is thus borne with equal care and
reverence along. He thus at last chose the best mechanism for its
conveyance : and where Scripture is silent as to means, a painter is
free to choose those best adapted to his purpose.
THE ENTOMBMENT.
243
THE ENTOMBMENT.
Hal. Nostro Signore deposto nel Sepolcro. Fr. Le Christ mis au Tombeau.
Germ. Di3 Grablegung.
THE Placing Christ in the Sepulchre is an important subject in
Christian Art. Where the actual scene of the Resurrection, or scenes
proving it to have taken place, were to be presented to the eye, the
Entombment, as its necessary antecedent, could scarcely fail to ap-
pear. Indeed, in many a representation where successive moments
211
Entombment, with Virgin assisting. (S. Angelo in Formis.)
are naively given in the same picture, the Resurrection is seen
above and the Entombment below. Thus Art combined the two
great facts and dogmas of our faith — that Christ died and rose
again, and that through the curse on the first Adam we pass to the
glorious resurrection of the sons of God.
This subject is seen under two forms, too nearly approaching
each other in time to be considered as separate subjects. The
244 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
earliest representations, believed to be of the llth century, repre-
sent the body swathed in cerements like a mummy, in the act of
being laid in or upon an oblong tomb. Our illustration (No. 211)
is taken from a wall-painting of the llth century in the Church of
S. Angelo in Formis, in the Neapolitan territory.1 The Virgin,
here seen at the head assisting to lower the body, though taking
but little of the weight, is probably a unique instance of this
arrangement.
The other form of the Entombment begins apparently in the
12th century. Its first examples show their antiquity by the same
swathed condition of the body.2 The peculiarity of this composi-
tion is, that the Lord lies flat on an oblong tomb, a figure standing
at the head and at the feet, while a third in the centre pours an
unguent from a bottle or vase with one hand, while with the other
hand he spreads it over the chest of the body. This is a form
stereotyped to all familiar with religious works of Art of the period
extending from the 12th to the 14th century. Occasionally the
Virgin is seen behind, but usually the three men alone appear.
This conception, but for the presence of the tomb, might be taken
for the moment previous to the enveloping the body in cloths and
bearing it to the sepulchre. In objects of this remote time, how-
ever, little consistency in such details is to be looked for. The
ancient limners gave the known events in this instance — the
anointing of the body and the laying it in the tomb — as forms they
were bound to supply, the spectator being expected to adjust the
succession as he pleased. This form is generally seen in ivories of
the period, which were mechanically repeated.
With the great early Italian masters, the bond, fide Entombment
reappears. By this time (the 13th century) the Greek Church ap-
pears to have fixed its formula of Art. * Hors du tombeau la Vierge
serre le corps entre ses bras, et le couvre de baisers.' As the body
is 'lowered, Nicodemus supports the head, Joseph the knees, and
St. John the feet. Duccio is faithful in the main to this conven-
tion, except that St. John supports the head. Giotto has not this
subject, though it is advertised, by some mistake, among the
1 See Quasi and Schultz, Denkmiiler der Kunst.
2 An example is seen in a miniature in the British Museum. Old and New Testament
and Psalter. Cotton. Nero, C. VI.
THE ENTOMBMENT.
245
212
Entombment. -(Pietro della Francesca. Boi-go S. Sepolcro. )
engravings of the Arena Chapel, published by the Arundel Society.1
Duccio's form may be said to have been adopted in all Entombments
which express the real scene. Nor was there much variety possible
where the shape of the tomb and the position and generally the
number of the mourners are the same. Pietro della Francesca's
picture, forming a predella at Borgo S. Sepolcro, is only an elegant
paraphrase of the scene (woodcut, No. 212), and is an instance of
that action of despair in the Mother of Christ which is afterwards
monopolised by the Magdalen. Nothing can be more graceful than
the service which the always useful and appropriate winding-sheet
here performs.
A magnificent representation of this subject, preceding the last-
named considerably in time, and setting forth the doctrine more
than the actual scene, was executed by Taddeo Gaddi (born 1300)
for the Church of Or-san-Michele, and is now in the Academy at
Florence. We give an etching. This is an instance of the Entomb-
ment going on below, while the Resurrection is seen above. Here
the Church, in the persons of the disciples, may be said to be
gathered round the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world,
the instruments of the Passion — the types of Christian trials — being
borne by them and by two sorrowing angels above ; while, by that
proper instinct which characterises all early Italian Art, the solemn
figure of the glorified Lord with his banner of victory above is
invisible to all the actors in the picture, and only presented for the
edification of the spectator.
1 The editors of this work have fallen into strange misnomers of these subjects. The
Mocking of Christ is called the Flagellation, and the Pieta the Entombment.
246 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
The moment is beautifully chosen. The bearers are just about to
cover the Saviour's form from mortal sight in a gorgeous pall ; even
the Magdalen is assisting to hide the feet she adores, and they only
wait till the lingering arm of the Mother is withdrawn. Meanwhile
St. John takes advantage of the delay to imprint a last kiss on the
hand, even while preparing to wrap it in the cloth.
We have remarked that the features of the Entombment, repre-
sented as an actual scene, bear a certain sameness. It follows,
therefore, that variety is chiefly to be looked for in the expression
of the heads, and this variety we find eminently attained by that
Northern painter, who is especially known by his touching concep-
tion of some of the scenes of the Passion. If Mantegna, the grand
Paduan, knew how to depict the storm of human emotion in the
countenance, the humbler Brussels painter, Rogier van der Weyden
the elder, equally excelled in the lull of suppressed feeling. The
picture of the Entombment by him in the National Gallery is as
much more sad to the heart than the passionate Italian conception
as a deep sigh sometimes than a flood of tears. We could almost
wish these mourners, with their compressed lips, red eyelids, and
slowly-trickling tears, would weep more — it would grieve us less.
But evidently the violence of the first paroxysm of grief is over, and
this is the exhaustion after it. The tide is ebbing, as with all new
sorrow, too soon to flow again. No finer conception of manly sorrow,
sternly repressed, exists than in the heads of Nicodemus and Joseph
of Arimathea, who devote themselves the more strenuously to their
task in order to conceal their grief. Strange that a painter of such
exquisite refinement of feeling, who died thirty-one years after
Leonardo's never-surpassed ideal of the Saviour had been com-
pleted, should adhere to so hideous a type of Christ as that which
appears here.
Martin Schon, again, has a pathos of his own. The tradition of
the Mother leaning over the body is set aside, and she is seen close
by, with clasped hands, St. John tenderly supporting her, watching
the lowering form as it is about to vanish from her sight.
Lucas Cranach has a small and exquisite picture of the Entomb-
ment in the Moritz-Capelle at Nuremberg. Here, also, the less
demonstrative . character of the North, as well as early Protestant
feeling, is evident in the quiet reality of the scene.
i^^
T3BT
THE ENTOMBMENT.
247
The subject was not popular with late Art, which* may be easily
accounted for. Prospero Fontana, in the Bologna Gallery, shows
how utterly it could be stripped of all its pathos, in spite of the
attempt of one of the men (no women are present) to perform the
part of the Magdalen by throwing up his arms.
The body was now laid in the sepulchre, and a great stone was
rolled against the door. And those who had attended it to the last
returned to the city, 6 for the Sabbath drew on ' — which, according
to Hebrew reckoning, began immediately after sunset of the pre-
vious day. And here it may not be amiss to say something of the
temporary resting-place of Christ —
That sad sepulchral rock
That was the casket of Heaven's richest store —
which appears in the next subjects as often as in that just con-
sidered. Art is not the better for adhering to the minor facts of
history which do not affect the feelings. The permanent points of
likeness between all generations — the touches of that commjon
nature which make all men kin — are her care; not the mere
externals, which differ in every country, and change with every
century. A picture perfectly correct in these respects may be
totally devoid of interest. The actual nature of the sepulchre was
therefore little thought of at the time when the purest sentiment
in Art most prevailed. The early Fathers were more occupied with
the moral allusions, however far-fetched, to be gathered from these
accessories, than with the real shape they assumed to the eye. The
tomb hewn in the rock was to them the hard heart of the Gentiles,
hitherto impenetrated by any fear of God, to be hewn out by the
teaching of the Apostles. The stone, or rather its rolling back, sig-
nified, in their sight, the opening of Christ's Sacraments, hitherto
covered by the letter of the Law, which was written on a stone.
This was the character of their contemplations, and when in one
instance they attempted to describe the outer aspect of these things,
they destroyed all signs of probability by attempting too much.
The Venerable Bede (8th century) enters into details respecting
the shape and size of the tomb. He says, ' The monument was
a circular building, cut from the adjacent rock, of such height
248 HISTORY OF OUR. LORD.
as a man with difficulty could extend his hand in it, having an
opening to the East : within this, to the North, was the place for
the Lord's body, made of the same stone, having seven feet in
length.' These words, quoted as the highest authority by many
subsequent ecclesiastical writers — among them by S. Buonaventura
— have an ambiguity, to say the least, that possibly, as we shall see,
misled the artist who may have desired to attain the semblance of
reality.
The real form of this resting-place is, however, sufficiently clear
from the inspired writings — a sepulchre hewn out of the rock,
entered by an opening so low, that Mary Magdalen, coming on the
morning of the Resurrection, < as she wept, stooped down, and
looked in.' Peter is also described as doing the same. Probably
by the word l door ' the entrance to the cavity alone was intended.
What ' the stone ' was is also evident — not square, for Joseph of
Arimathea and those with him ' rolled it unto the door of the sepul-
chre,' whence it was * rolled back ' by the angel. It was also heavy,
for the women coming the first day said among themselves, ' Who
shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre ? ' This
description of the stone coincides with the peculiar machinery seen
to this day at the so-called Tombs of the Kings at Jerusalem.
6 This consists of a circular stone, moving along a groove in front
of the tomb, and wheeled backwards and forwards, but not without
great exertion.' 1 These, therefore, were the local conditions of the
scene, the flattened face of the rock and a flat circular stone, like a
millstone, before it. Few, if any examples could be found, how-
ever, which attempt adherence to this actual mode of construction.
The stone may be said to be always a flat slab, which has fitted the
top of the monument, or still lies upon it, on which the angel is
sitting. Nor has the sentiment appropriate to the subject of the
Entombment suffered by this interpretation. Nevertheless, there
are not wanting critics who attach importance to a false precision,
and by such the utter disregard of most of the old painters for all
appearance of local probability will be gravely censured. The
Italian master seldom attempted the niceties of time or place ; his
grand instinctive feeling dictated the expression of the subject, his
daily life supplied the nature of the accessories. The sepulchre,
1 Sketch of Jerusalem, by Thos. Lewin, Esq., p. 159.
THE ENTOMBMENT. 249
therefore, is a square monument, or an elegant classte sarcophagus,
in the centre of a landscape, as with Pietro della Francesca's En-
tombment, with no sign of a rock near ; or at best the same kind of
monument appears at the lofty entrance to a cave, or within a
cave, as was represented by Fra Angelico and Mantegna. Or, if
we search an earlier time — an ivory, for instance, of the 9th cen-
tury— a regular building like a small church, always surmounted
by a dome, meets the eye, showing probably its Greek origin, or
possibly the influence of Bede's description. In all these early
instances, the entrance, usually a circular arch, is open, and the
linen is seen within. In the later Greek form, described in the
< Guide,' there is no analogy, it may be observed, between the
sepulchre in which Christ is laid and that whence He rises. The
first is ; une montagne, et dedans un tombeau de pierre ; ' the
second, l un tombeau de marbre, scelle de quatre sceaux. '
VOL. II. K K
250 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS.
Jtal. La discesa nel Purgatorio. Fr. Descente aux Enfers. Jesus-Christ aux Limbes.
Germ. Christus in der Vorholle.
THE Descent of our Lord into Hell, based on a few well-known
passages in the Old and New Testament, forms one of the articles of
the Apostles' Creed — l He descended into hell.' It is accordingly
held alike by all Christian Churches. The Church of England pro-
ceeds no farther than this fact; in the discreet words of her third
article of religion : ' As Christ died for us, and was buried, so also is
it to be believed that He went down into hell.' Thus she forbears
to discriminate either the object for which Christ descended, or the
nature of the region vaguely called hell, or a place of concealment.
Both these questions, which proceeded naturally from the acknow-
ledged dogma of the Descent, were the subject of much considera-
tion among Christian writers up to the 6th century. By that time
they seem to have arrived at the conclusion that the Lord's visit
was for the purpose of liberating souls, but that the place was not
that of everlasting torment, nor the souls those of the damned. The
succeeding commentators went further, and by the 7th century it was
absolutely affirmed that the abode to which Christ descended was one
of milder penalties, though still called i infernal,' and that the souls
He there set free were those of the righteous, who, in St. Gregory's
words (died 604), ' living in the flesh, had, by the grace of Christ,
served Him in faith and good works.' This definition, again, gave
rise to questions whether Christ, so descending, did deliver all the
spirits thus imprisoned, or only a portion, and this seems to have
received no precise solution. The result of this apparently not Aery
logical process of reasoning appears, however, in the belief which
obtained in the Greek and Latin Churches, to which it would be
difficult to assign a proximate date, that a region under the earth
existed, whither the spirits of all the uubaptized descended, though
not for the purposes of purification, called Limbus, or a ' border
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS. 251
place,' as distinguished from the abode of the baptized* or Purgatory.
This category of souls included those of the patriarchs and prophets,
from Father Adam to John the Baptist, and hence received the more
particular appellation of ' the Limbus of the Fathers.' Whether
the character of this region was better or worse than that of Purga-
tory, Theology did not seem to define. We owe the more precise
ideas which prevailed upon it to Poetry and Art, which combine
to give it an aspect of no slight terror. Dante places Limbus,
according to the meaning of the word, in the outer circle, or * border'
of hell—
Where no plaint was heard,
Except of sighs, that make the eternal air
Tremble, not caused by tortures, but from grief
Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,
Of men, women, and infants.
The poet ranges himself on the side of those theologians who
maintained that our Lord drew only a few chosen spirits from this
clrear abode.
The following sublime stanzas, in which Virgil, himself an in-
habitant of Limbus, is made solemnly to give evidence as an eye-
witness of Christ's advent below, embody a confession of the faith
on these mysterious points, which reigned among the most
enlightened minds of the 13th century : —
Then to me
The gentle guide : ' Inquirest thou not what spirits
Are these which thou beholdest ? Ere thou pass
Farther, I would thou know that these of sin
Were blameless ; and if aught they merited
It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,
The portal to thy faith. If they before
The Gospel lived, they served not God aright,
And among such am I. For these defects,
And for no other evil, we are lost ;
Only so far afflicted that we live
Desiring without hope.' Sore grief assailed
My heart at hearing this, for well I knew,
Suspended in that limbo, many a soul
Of mighty worth. ' Oh tell me, Sire revered,
Tell me, my master,' I began, through wish
252 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Of full assurance in that holy faith
Which vanquishes all error, ' say, did e'er
Any, or through his own or other's merit,
Come forth from thence, who afterwards was blest ?'
Piercing the secret purport of my speech,
He answered : ' I was new to that estate
When I beheld a Puissant One arrive
Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown 'd.
He forth the shade of our first parent drew,
Abel his child, and Noah, righteous man,
Of Moses, lawgiver, for faith approved,
Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,
Israel with his sire, and with his sons,
Nor without Rachel, whom so hard he won,
And others, many more, whom he to bliss
Exalted. Before, then, be thou assured,
No spirit of human kind was ever saved.'
DANTE. Inferno, canto iv.
There is enough to appal the heart in this most solemn narrative,
imbued as it is with that intense reality by which Dante well-nigh
subjugates the reason, as well as the imagination.1 But Art, less
logical, was generally far more merciless. Her most usual repre-
sentations of the subject, lay a strange inconsistency, not nnfrequent
in so-called Christian Art, place the souls of those who, Scripture
teaches us, ' all died in faith, having received the promises ' —
nay, even that of Patriarch Abraham, whose bosom was defined
by our Lord Himself as a place of beatitude for the righteous —
place, we observe, these very souls in torments, fitted only for the
damned. Their position, according to Art, is either among flames
of fire, or, by an actual image of the common figure, they are
represented as in the mouth of an enormous monster, which per-
sonates * the jaws of hell.'
But the ideas of poets and artists were not borrowed only from
the controversies of theologians. One of the apocryphal writings,
called the 6 Gospel of Nicodemus, or the Acts of Pilate,' embodies
a full description of the Descent into Hell; and, doubtless, in the
Middle Ages, greatly influenced the treatment of this subject. The
date of this Greek manuscript is uncertain, though assumed to
1 The poet's description may be partly traced to the mysterious lines in Zechariah :
'Prisoners of hope, in the pit where there is no water.' (Chap, ix.)
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS. 253
have been discovered in the time of Theodosius the Great (died
A.D. 405). It is in great measure, considered in a* literary sense,
a worthless production, giving an amplified and feeble paraphrase
of the Evangelist's history of the Judgment, Crucifixion, and
Burial of Christ; in which nothing is so conspicuous as the total
sacrifice of the simplicity of the Gospel. But it is remarkable that
when the writer proceeds to a fictitious part of his subject, and has
to trust entirely to his own invention — as in the description of
Limbus, and the stir produced there on the approach of the Great
Deliverer — he launches into a pomp and circumstance of language
which entitles this portion to some indulgence as an effort of the
imagination. At the same time, like all dealers in legendary wares,
he overdoes the very points on which he founds his claim to belief,
so that the numerous and strained coincidences between this nar-
rative, and the mysterious language of the Old Testament, are in
themselves sufficient arguments against its genuineness.
The contrivance for telling our Lord's Descent is ingenious. The
story is put into the mouths of two witnesses, by name Charinus
and Lenthius, the sons of Simeon — he who took the Infant Christ
in his arms — which two sons, having been long dead and buried, are
stated to have risen with the saints, when the graves were opened
at the Crucifixion, and, having received baptism in the Jordan, to
which Mrs. Jameson alludes, they were allowed to relate to the
conscience-stricken Jews the mysteries they had witnessed. They
accordingly tell the following tale, of which we give an abstract.
Being with the Fathers in the depth of hell, in the blackness of
darkness, suddenly there appeared the colour of the sun, like gold,
and a thick purple light, enlightening the place; whereupon Adam
and all the patriarchs and prophets rejoiced, as understanding who
it was that thus cast the rays of His glory before Him. And Isaiah
the Prophet cried out and said : < This is the light of the Father,
and of the Son of God, according to my prophecy when I was alive
upon earth : " The land of Zabulon, and the land of Nephthalim,
beyond Jordan, a people who walked in darkness saw a great light,
and to them who dwelled in the region of the shadow of death, light
is arisen."
And then Simeon said : ' Glorify the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son
of God, whom I took up in my arms when an infant in the Temple,
254
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
and acknowledged that now " mine eyes have seen salvation, which
Thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to enlighten
the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel."
And then another spoke, saying : ' I am the voice of one crying
in the wilderness ; ' and narrated how he baptized the Lord in the
Jordan, and bade the saints rejoice that the Son of God ' will next
visit us, and the day spring from on high will come to us, who are
in darkness and in the shadow of death.'
213
Colloquy between Satan and Prince of Hell. (MS., 14th century,
Ambrosian Library, Milan.)
Then, while all the saints were praising God, Satan, the
Prince and Captain of Death, addressed the Prince of Hell, bidding
him prepare to receive Him who still hung on the Cross, and
boasting that he would bring Him to this abode, ' subject both to
thee and me.' But the Prince of Hell replied in consternation, and
adjured Satan not to bring the Crucified One to his keeping, for
if it were the same who took away from him Lazarus, after he had
lain four days in the grave, he should have no power to hold Him,
and would even lose those whom he now held in bondage. We
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS.
255
introduce these two quaint illustrations from a MS. of the 14th
century in the Ambrosian Library, Milan (woodcuts, Nos. 213 and
214).
And while they were thus in altercation, there arose on a sudden
a voice as of thunder and the rushing of winds, saying, ; Lift up
your gates, 0 ye princes, and be ye lift up, 0 everlasting doors, and
the King of Glory shall come in.' At which the Prince of Hell
desired Satan to depart, or, if he were a warrior, to fight with the
214
Christ at Door of Hell. (MS., 14th century. Ambrosian Library.)
King of Glory. And then he said to his impious officers, ' Shut the
brass gates of cruelty, and make them fast with iron bars, and fight
courageously.' Then the saints cried in anger, < Open thy gates, that
the King of Glory may come in.' And the same voice of thunder
was heard again : t Lift up your gates, 0 ye princes, and be ye lifted
256 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
up, ye doors of hell, and the King of Glory shall enter in.' And
the Prince of Hell cried out, as though he had been ignorant, ' Who
is that King of Glory?' And David replied : * The Lord, strong
and powerful, the Lord mighty in battle ; He is the King of Glory,
and He is the Lord of heaven and earth. He hath looked down to
hear the groans of the prisoners, and to set loose those that are
appointed to death. And now, thou vile and wicked Prince of Hell,
open thy gates that He may enter in, for He is the Lord of heaven
and earth.' And while he was saying this, the mighty Lord entered
in likeness of a man, and enlightened those places which had ever
before been in darkness. And Death, and all the legions of devils,
were seized with horror and great fear, and confessed that never
before did earth send them a man ' so bright as to have no spot, and
so pure as to have no crime.' And the Prince of Hell reproached
Satan as the author of destruction, and of their mutual defeat and
banishment, and the scorn of all angels : ' Thou who wouldest crucify
the King of Glory, and hast made us promises of very large advan-
tages by His destruction, but, like a fool, wert ignorant what thou
wast about. For now this same Jesus of Nazareth has broken down
our prisons from top to bottom, and released all the captives who
were wont formerly to groan under the weight of their torments, so
that they now insult us, though before they never durst behave
themselves insolently towards us, nor, being prisoners, could ever
on any occasion be merry; yet now there is not one that groans, nor
is there the least appearance of a tear on their faces. 0 Prince
Satan, thou great keeper of the infernal regions, all the advantages
which thou didst acquire by the forbidden tree, and the loss of
Paradise, thou hast now lost by the wood of the Cross.' Then the
Lord trampled upon Satan, and, seizing upon the Prince of Hell,
said unto him, ' Satan shall be subject to thy dominion for ever, in
the room of Adam and his righteous sons, who are mine.'
Now Jesus, turning to the saints, took hold of Adam by his
right hand, saying, ' Peace be to thee, and to all thy righteous
posterity.' On which Adam; casting himself at the feet of the Lord
with tears, magnified Him with a loud voice. And, in like manner,
all the saints prostrated themselves,, and uttered His praises. Then
David the royal prophet boldly cried out\ and said, ' 0 sing unto
Che Lord a new song, for He hath done marvellous things ; His right
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS. 257
hand and His holy arm have gotten Him the victory.' And the
whole multitude of saints answered, ' This honour have all His
saints. Praise ye the Lord.' And then the prophet Habakkuk
spoke, and in like manner all the others. And the Lord, still
holding Adam by the right hand, ascended from hell, and all the
saints followed Him.
This is an abstract of the portion of the apocryphal manuscript,
whence Art has in some measure taken the most thankless subject,
in her sense, of the whole series of the Passion. Nevertheless it
was a subject of infinite importance in the eye of a Christian, for
we should greatly err in restricting the aim of the artist to the
supposed deliverance of certain souls from hell. In the earlier
times, at all events, the illustration of a great principle as well as
of a legendary fact was his object. It was Christ having overcome
the sharpness of death, and opening the kingdom of heaven to all
believers — it was the despoiling principalities and powers, which the
painter sought, at least collaterally, to express, and to which the
Latin name inscribed above the subject on the doors at Benevento,
4 Despolatio Infer norum,' is a testimony. And equally, in early
times, the Descent into Hell served as a figure of the Resurrec-
tion, which, for centuries, was not represented in an actual scene ;
and here again on the brazen doors of S. Paolo-fuori-le-Mura, at
Rome,1 of the same century (the llth) as those at Benevento, we
find the Greek word Auastasia,2 or the Resurrection, inscribed upon
the subject.
Still, nothing could render it an attractive theme for Art proper,
though a great master like Mantegna imbued it, as we shall see,
with a certain grandeur. Otherwise the merely calligraphic or the
allegorical forms under which early Art treated it, commend them-
selves as the most judicious mode of embodying this mysterious
dogma.
The subject appears, as we have seen, in the llth century, upon
the bronze and brazen doors of ancient Italian cathedrals, now so
obliterated by time that little is seen beyond the indication of a
figure bearing a small cross, and extending a hand to small rudi-
ments of figures below himself. It is also seen under the calli°ra-
o
1 Destroyed by fire in 1823.
8 Illustrations of these doors are in D'Agincourt, Scultura.
VOL. II. L L
258 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
phic conditions of the small miniatures of the same century.1 In
these, two successive moments are separately given. The Lord is
first seen in an almond-shaped glory, attended by angels, striking
with His small cross at the Princes of Hell and Death — two demons
in flames — one of whom is already chained. He next appears in the
same glory, His cross-surmounted staff on His shoulder, dragging
Adam out of the iire by his right hand. A female figure, meant
for Eve, is behind. As a rule, seldom departed from, the Saviour
is always seen bearing this small cross of the Resurrection — in early
times without a banner attached — in His left hand, thus leaving
the right one free to grasp the parent of our race. Equally as a
rule in Art, under the feet of Christ, or lying near, are seen two
broken doors, a demon, doubtless Satan, sometimes crushed under-
neath them. Occasionally a dark cavity is seen in the ground under
Christ, in which lies a demon enchained, with scourges, pincers,
nails, and keys, and such instruments of cruelty, scattered and
broken around him.
The allegorical picture of the Jaws of Hell also appears in the
llth century. This is a large mouth, seen in profile, extended to
the utmost, full of awful teeth, and vomiting forth flames, through
which the souls press forward, Adam foremost, whom Christ always
takes by the hand. This is the form in many manuscripts, and in
all ivories, and, once understood, it is easily recognisable. The jaws
belong to the partially visible head of a great fishlike monster. We
take our woodcut (No. 215) from the Bible Historiee of the end of
the 13th century at Paris. Sometimes an angel accompanies the
Lord, and strikes at the demons in His stead. Then both the
gracious hands are at liberty : Adam has the one, and poor Eve
fondly grasps the other. Sometimes, also, the sameness of these
compositions is varied by a touch of dramatic humour. In the
Italian ivory of which we have given an etching (vol. i. p. 23), a
demon is seen hurling a human soul, as if in defiance, at the
Deliverer. In an ancient ivory situla, or holy water vessel, of the
time of Henry II. of Germany, which is adorned with flat sculpture
representing the incidents of the Passion, an angel is seen holding
down one of the demons, while Christ delivers the souls.
It stands to reason that the broken doors are not seen in
1 D'Agincourt. Pittura, t. liii.
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS. 259
215 Jaws of Hell. (Bible, end of 13th century. Bibl. Imp., Paris.)
the same representation with the extended jaws, each being the
figure for the same thing ; nevertheless, from the mechanical
way in which these types were often executed, instances majr be
found where the ancient Kmrier has introduced both, to make
doubly sure. The jaws may be said to have gone out by fhe loth
century.
The great early Italian painters did not favour this subject, pro-
bably from a sense of its unfitness for Art. Neither Duccio nor
Giotto has it. The mystical and fervid Fra Angelico seems to have
introduced it into the domain of Art proper. He has two concep-
tions of the scene. Here the large red cross banner appears in the
Lord's hand, the doors are broken, the demon beneath them, and
Adam has already the divine hand in both of his. Abel, a bearded
man in skins, follows with Eve ; David is recognised by his crown,
Moses by his horns of light (woodcut, No. 216, next page). All
these, with the procession following them, are encircled by the nim-
bus of sanctity. In his other picture, the happiness of the spectator
is disturbed by a peep behind the scenes, where two different groups
260
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Descent into Limbus. (Fra Augelico.)
of a man and a woman are seen struggling with fiends, and alas !
being without the investiture of sanctity, with no chance of escape.
Thus the doctrine of hell being emptied only in part is rather cruelly
set forth.
Jacopo Bellini, born about the same time as Fra Angelico, has
the subject in his book of delicate drawings in the British
Museum. Here a new feature appears, which does not again leave
the subject in Italian Art. The good thief, holding a large
cross, stands by, whilst the Saviour delivers the souls. This inci-
dent was adopted by Mantegna, who has the subject of Limbus
more than once. In his grand engraving, the Lord stands with
His back to the spectator, stooping into an abyss whence a few
outstretched arms are appearing. The good thief, a young nude
figure, is very grand. He may be supposed to be standing there,
in order to enter heaven with that happy procession of which
DESCENT INTO LIMBUS ; OR, CHRIST DELIVERING THE SOULS. 261
Adam, in Christian Art, is the first figure, and the^ good thief the
last.
The i Gospel of Nicodemus ' also supplies the further history of
the good thief. The story is curious. When the Lord quits
Limbus with the saints, He consigns them all to the Archangel
Michael, at the gates of Paradise, where two ancient men meet
them, who, on being questioned how they came to be in heaven
without first having gone to hell, prove to be Enoch and Elijah,
translated direct, and now about to return to earth to fight Anti-
christ. ' When behold, there was another man in a miserable
figure, carrying a cross on his shoulder.' Him they question too,
i Who art thou? for thy countenance is like a thief's, and why
dost thou carry a cross upon thy shoulder ? ' And he answers,
' Ye say right, for I was a thief, who committed all sorts of wicked-
ness upon earth.' And forthwith he tells the tale of his cruci-
fixion by the Lord's side, adding, ' And Christ gave me this sign
of the Cross, saying, " Carry this, and go to Paradise; and if the
angel who is the guard of Paradise will not admit thee, show him
the sign of the Cross, and say unto him, Jesus Christ, who is now
crucified, has sent me hither to thee." When I did this, and told
the angel all these things, he presently opened the gates, intro-
duced me, and placed me on the right hand in Paradise, saying,
" Stay here a little time till Adam, the father of all mankind,
shall enter in with all his sons, who are the holy and righteous
servants of Jesus Christ who is crucified."
Gaudenzio Ferrari is one of the last of the Italians who has this
subject, and his treatment of it shows his familiarity with this
apocryphal gospel. For while the good thief stands with his cross
on one side, two figures of ' ancient men ' with flowing white
beards, evidently designed for Enoch and Elijah, stand on the
other. The presence of these three may be accounted for under
the idea, that Paradise consisted in being at the side of the
radiant figure, all bursting with light, who, trampling on pro-
strate doors and impotent demons, is lifting Adam with a con-
queror's grasp.
The Limbus seldom failed in the series of the Passion by the
German engravers. They treated this subject as they treated all,
with a mixture of naturalistic and dramatic feeling. In Martin
262 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Schon's engraving Eve follows close on Adam, with the fatal apple
in her hand. Abel, clad in skins, is at her side. The broken gates
are under the Lord's feet, but one of the demons has seized a
splinter, and with it is threatening the group of anxious spirits who
press forward. Another has its claw fiercely set on a woman's
shoulder. Yet the souls evidently perceive that the reign of their
tormentors is over, and eager hands are seen behind in the deep
profound, raised as if in clamorous joy.
Albert Diirer forsakes tradition. Many figures are already de-
livered— children among them — and Christ is taking John the
Baptist apparently by the hand, who is being helped up from
below. Above the black arch is a window, whence demons with
staves are aiming blows at Christ.
This subject went out of favour as Art matured, and very few
instances of it will be found in Italian Art of the 16th century.
TTJKI3S
MAMIES Alf OTIUB
Ivory.
THE RESURRECTION. 263
THE RESURRECTION.
Ital. La Rosurrezione ; or, II Risorgimento di Cristo. Fr. La Resurrection.
Germ. Die Auferstehung Christi.
THE Rising of our Lord from the Tomb, always called the Resurrec-
tion, is presented for the treatment of Art under peculiar condi-
tions. Not having been witnessed by mortal eye, it takes no
graphic form in Scripture. There is no narration of the actual
scene of the Resurrection. Yet this event, the most stupendous
of all for the ' sure and certain faith' of the Christian world, it was
more especially the duty of Art to bring before the eye ; for ' if
Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is
also vain ; ye are yet in your sins' (1 Cor. xv. 14). In lieu, there-
fore, of the fact itself, which the simplicity or the reverence of
early Art forbore by any effort of the imagination to supply, the
proofs of it were resorted to. For many centuries, therefore, the
Lord's descent into Limbus, and His obvious triumph over Death
and Hell, or, from an earlier period still, the terrified women at
the empty tomb, the stone rolled away by no mortal hand, and the
angel seated upon it: ' He is not here — He is risen,' were the
scenes which represented, in language unmistakeable to all
believers, this crowning assurance of their faith. Nevertheless,
early instances do occur, though extremely rare, in which the actual
Resurrection is given. Two examples of this representation have
come to our knowledge. The earliest is an ivory, of which we add
an etching, now in the National Museum at Munich, stated to be
of the 5th or 6th century, and of which it can only be said, from
its classical character, that it bears the signs of a very remote date.
Here is the tomb, like a small temple, the guards leaning in sleep
against it, while Christ, young, beardless, and beautiful, with no
nimbus, is rushing rather than rising from it ; His eager extended
hand grasped by the hand of the Almighty above. No subsequent
conception of the actual scene approaches this in power of expres-
sion. This is no cold abstraction — a body rising alone, and going
264 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
we know not whither, or, as in later times, a theatrical convention,
peculiarly repugnant to the eye — here is a reality, which, though
in one respect of a symbolic kind, takes the imagination by storm.
The course is run, the battle is fought, and there is the hand of
divine welcome extended to that Beloved Son in whom the Father
is well pleased, and who rushes impetuously to His reward, rein-
vested with immortal youth.
The other instance belongs apparently to the Carlovingian time,
and decorated the shrine of St. Albinus in the Church of Our Lady
217 Resurrection (Shrine S. Albinus. Cologne.)
in Cologne (woodcut, No. 217). There is a curious opposition
between these two illustrations — the one the effort of a great but
expiring period of Art, the other that of one yet unconscious of its
coming strength. The design is ruder, but in so far more interest-
ing as being the work, so to say, of unassisted Christian reverence
and simplicity. Here the Lord is seen rising, the banner of
victory in His right hand, while, with His left, He Himself puts
aside the linen clothes in which He had been enveloped. An
angel is on each side, not to help Him, but to adore. Below lie
two figures prone on their faces — more than asleep — for, for fear
THE RESURRECTION. 265
of the angel who had descended from heaven, the guards ' became
as dead men.' In this deathlike aspect the illustration just given
is unique.
We return to the usual substitutions for the actual scene of the
Resurrection. In some instances the appearance of Christ to the
Magdalen — the first revelation of Himself on His return to earth —
was felt to be a sufficient setting forth of this irrefutable doctrine.
This occurs in the series by Duccio.
Such forms of Art are, in this instance, the thermometer by
which the temperature of the faith of the time may be ascertained.
Scepticism was an enemy unknown, or at least unacknowledged,
in the early ages of the Church. The part of the artist was there-
fore comparatively easy. He had to confirm faith, not to convince
Reason ; and if he shrank from or never dreamed of the represen-
tation of a mystery not revealed to human sight, over which the
silence of Scripture rested like a pall forbidden to be lifted, he gave
an equivalent in forms of equal logic and, to his view, of greater
propriety.
The so-called revival of religion in the 13th century, under the
impassioned impulse given by the great Spanish and Italian saints,
tells a tale not only of the previous indifference of the masses, but
of a more treacherous danger. Art responded to this stir, and has-
tened to bring forward stronger visible materials for inward con-
viction. In this time — the 13th to the 14th century — as we have
witnessed, the scene from our Lord's passion became amplified in
number, and more exciting in character. And among them in due
time appeared that subject which bears witness to a necessity, falsely
acknowledged, of a more direct proof of its truth. The actual Re-
surrection— our Lord Himself ascending from the tomb — was now
felt to be required. For the accessories of this hitherto unima-
gined scene, Scripture was consulted. For St. Matthew, and he
alone, relates that on the day after the Crucifixion, ' the chief priests
and Pharisees came together to Pilate, saying, Sir, we remember
that that deceiver said, while He was yet alive, After three days I
will rise again. Command, therefore, that the sepulchre be made
sure until the third day, lest His disciples come by night and steal
Him away,1 and say unto the people, He is risen from the dead ;
1 In a manuscript in the British Museum, called ' Queen Mary's Prayer Book.'
VOL. II. M M
266 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
so the last error shall be worse than the first. Pilate said unto
them, Ye have a watch, go your way, make it as sure as you can.
So they went and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and
setting a watch.' Accordingly, Art always surrounds the tomb with
a company of soldiers varying in number. The Latin Church has
given these men no name or identity, but, according to the Greek
Church, Longinus the centurion was one of the number.
The first man who finally brought this subject into the painter's
repertory was the ever-daring Giotto. In a small picture by him
in the Academy at Florence,1 Christ is here characterised in a
manner, artistically speaking, befitting the first of such represen-
tations (woodcut, No. 218). He is not under a glorified aspect —
there is no nimbus surrounding His Person, no angel to greet Him
with homage ; yet He is peculiarly spiritual, for He glides upwards
as if formed of those subtler essences which must rise at once in the
heavier atmosphere of this world ; so that the closed tomb, on which
the stone lies undisturbed, and the unawakened guards, appear the
natural concomitants of such a vision. The banner of victory is in
his hand.
The school of Giotto adopted this new and fascinating subject.
Taddeo Gaddi has it, as seen in our etching, p. 246, above the
Entombment. Also Niccolo di Pietro. These both, lacking the
dramatic power of Giotto, have supplied the sense of the super-
natural by the accessories of glorification. But Christ no longer
soars naturally and necessarily upwards, as in Giotto's conception.
With Niccolo di Pietro, He is stepping out of the tomb, which, pos-
sibly to favour that action, is open, with the stone lying by, and
the guards asleep. This is literally wrong ; for, in the silence kept
by Scripture as to the mode of our Lord's Resurrection, it is to
be inferred that the earthquake took place at this stupendous event
— our Lord, namely, rising through all barriers — and that the angel
descended, and rolled away the stone after the Lord was risen, in
2 B. VII., 1320, there is a strange picture. It is night, and an old man is coming to the
foot of the tomb. The guards stai-t up and repel him. It looks like an embodiment of
the suspicion that the disciples might come by night and steal the body. This is literally
a heresy in Art, which is bound to depict only the truth in fact or doctrine.
1 It formed one of a series upon a press for sacred vessels, in the sacristy of S. Croce
at Florence.
THE RESURRECTION.
267
218
Resurrection. (Giotto.)
order to show that the sepulchre was empty. It is evident that a
certain latitude of treatment was felt to be allowable here. The
elder Bellini, who partook of the dramatic feeling of Giotto, has left
in his book of drawings a Resurrection, in which the Lord is also
rising buoyantly, like a spirit of finer tissues, from a closed tomb.
The guards always asleep.
Fra Angelico has treated this subject several times. In one
of his pictures he adheres to the old type, the women and the
angel at the sepulchre. In another he has combined the old
version with the new. The Maries are looking into the empty
tomb ; the angel is solemnly addressing them ; while above soars
the Lord, not as one rising, but as merely a glorified body, with
the banner of victory in one hand and the palm-branch of martyr-
dom in the other, His feet lost in clouds. A third picture gives the
actual Resurrection.
The great visible argument of the Resurrection once admitted into
the scenery of Art, that also in its turn became the thermometer of
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
surrounding faith. What no man had seen might still suffer doubt.
This was met again by a slight but significant change. Not all the
guards remained asleep ; the eyes of one of them, at least, were
opened to behold the marvellous fact, and thus, in his person, a
fictitious witness was supplied. It need scarcely be said that this,
being an assertion which Scripture does not warrant, proved too
much, and led naturally to further and profaner amplifications.
M. Didron mentions a painted window in the Church of St. Bonnet,
at Bourges, where five soldiers are watching, and all five are roused
by the rising of the Lord. Two are as if dazzled, another is medi-
tating on what he sees, the fourth stands before Christ in admiration,
while a fifth, more brutal or more sceptical, seizes a pike, and aims
a blow at the figure.1 Paul Veronese has the same profane incident; 2
also Simon de Yos, in the Lille Museum.
Perugino was one of the first to initiate the introduction of the
awakened guard. This occurs in his well-known picture in the
Vatican, where the two sleeping soldiers in front are reported by
Vasari to embody the portraits of himself and his youthful pupil
Raphael. The rising Christ is encircled by a glory, and adored by
angels. The guard who is roused is seen in the background (wood-
cut, No. 219).
Rafaelino del Garbo (born 1466) added further alloy of human
conceit. There are four guards — three around, expressing ignoble
fright, not awe ; while a fourth lies crushed, and to all appearance
dying, under the stone which has fallen upon him. To this bar-
barous version had come the sublime fact of the angel rolling away
the stone. Our Lord, above, is raising His right hand in benedic-
tion just over the dying soldier — a most inappropriate gesture as
applied to such an incident.
Nor do the signs of wavering faith in this the Shibboleth of
Christian doctrine stop here. The actual scene was first repre-
sented for the purposes of conviction ; then the attestation of
its truth by the presence of an eye-witness was added; now a
further step in this false direction was taken. For it became
necessary, not only to prove that Christ rose, but that He rose
in a miraculous manner. As time had advanced, the tomb had
been generally represented open ; the action of the Saviour, doubt-
1 Guide de la Peinture, p. 200, note. 2 Zani, torn. ix. p. 92.
THE RESURRECTION.
Resurrection. (Perugino. Vatican.)
less dictated by the space allowed, being often that of one stepping
out upon the earth, instead of rising in the air. Instances even
exist in which He is stepping on to one of the sleeping guards,
as in an alabaster-coloured bas-relief of the end of the 14th century,
in the Cluny Museum.1 But towards the close of the 16th century
the tomb is not only closed and ostentatiously sealed, while the
Saviour soars above, but one of the guards lies sleeping full-length
upon it, so as to prove beyond contradiction that the figure of the
Lord must have passed through this double barrier by supernatural
means. This is seen in two pictures of the Resurrection by Annibale
1 No. 137, and others there.
270
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Carracci, in the Louvre. Our illustration gives the two principal
figures in the larger picture (No. 220).
On looking at the German and Northern schools, we find similar
The Resurrection. (Aunibale Carracci. Louvre. )
signs of accumulated evidence, in proportion to the decline of
implicit belief. Martin Schon and Albert Durer each gave the
Saviour stepping from the open tomb ; one guard witnessing the
scene with scared looks, who in Martin Schoii's engraving is the
THE RESURRECTION. 271
same servant with the lantern whose ear Christ had restored. Other
German painters have placed Him already out, standing on the
ground, the tomb either closed or open ; sometimes with a scroll by
His head, 'Ego sum resurrectio et vita.' In a picture at Munich
the angel is lifting the stone, and Christ is seen emerging at a
corner, with bandaged head, just like Eembraudt's picture of
Lazarus. Thus, whichever way we look in late Art, we find signs
of an instinctive embarrassment : none of the conceptions we have
described being, perhaps, so unwelcome to the eye as that theatrical
convention, borrowed from the play of the Passion, which makes
our Lord soaring with unbecoming agility, and which the mind
associates with a firm framework of machinery behind.
272 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE WOMEN AT THE SEPULCHRE, WITH THE ANGEL SEATED ON
THE TOMB.
Jtal. Le tre Marie arrivate al Sepolcro. Fr. Les Myrrhophores au Tombeau.
Germ. Die Marien am Grabe.
THIS subject — which served, as we have remarked, as a representa-
tion of the Resurrection — was on that account an unfailing incident
in the brief series of the Passion, during the centuries which pre-
ceded Giotto, when, having fulfilled its purpose, it yielded the
place to the actual scene of the Rising of Christ, and retired in
great measure from the domain of Art.
The account of the women at the sepulchre is given by all four
Evangelists, though with a disagreement in circumstance which
only proves a truth in the spirit too secure to be guarded in the
letter, and which commentators have had no difficulty in recon-
ciling. The general solution is as follows. Mary Magdalen
having agreed to visit the sepulchre with other women, in order
to anoint the body, arrived there first < while yet it was dark '
(St. John). She found the stone rolled away, and returned
quickly back to tell Peter and John. Meanwhile her companions,
bearing sweet spices, came to the tomb ' at the rising of the
sun ' (St. Mark). And they, finding the stone rolled away,
entered into the sepulchre, and saw a young man sitting on the
right side, clothed in a white garment, and they were affrighted.
And when the angel had spoken, telling them that the Lord had
risen from the dead and that they should see Him in Galilee, ' they
went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre ; for they trembled
and were amazed.' These are supposed to be the same party who
were met later by the Lord Himself as they returned, as mentioned
by St. Matthew.
Then, to continue the narrative of St. John, Mary Magdalen,
with Peter and John, returned. And Peter entered the sepulchre
first and then John, ' and they saw the linen clothes lie,' but no
angel appeared to them. They ' went away again unto their own
THE WOMEN AT THE SEPULCHRE. 273
home,' and the Magdalen was left weeping behind, and she looked
in and saw ' two angels in white, the one at the head and the other
at the foot, where the body of the Lord had lain.' And after they
had asked her why she wept, ' she turned herself back and saw
Jesus.' And she too returned and told the disciples. And again
another party, according to St. Luke, undistinguished by name,
came * very early in the morning,' and they too entered and found
the body of Jesus gone, and ' behold two men stood by them in
shining garments,' who said, * He is not here, but is risen,' and
then reminded them how the Lord had told them that He < must be
delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the
third day rise again. And they remembered his words, and returned
from the sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and
to all the rest.'
Thus it is evident — from the fact that one angel only appeared
to one party and two to the others, and that the words of the
heavenly messengers differed remarkably in each case, as well
as from other circumstantial evidence — that two groups at least
of pious women pilgrimaged to the sepulchre ; both separate
from the Magdalen, whose name, in the fearless truth of the
narrative, is joined to theirs as companions in the sense of the
same errand. We find also, in the different Gospels, no less
than four women mentioned by name — being Mary Magdalen,
Mary the mother of James, Salome, and Joanna the wife of
Herod's steward — though three are only once mentioned together;
and besides these, 'other women that were with them' (St.
Luke). Here are, accordingly, women enough to account for two
parties, or even more — of what number we know not. But Art
has always adopted three as the traditional number, and the Three
Maries at the Sepulchre — or, as the Greek Church terms them, Les
trois Myrrhophores, from the spices and myrrh they carried — are
as invariable in Christian as the Three Graces or Fates are in
Pagan Art.
Early theology has not overlooked the coincidence which places
woman — ' the last at the Cross, the first at the Tomb ' — in a
position here morally reversed to that she assumed in the Garden
of Eden. * For the angel bids them go quickly and tell His dis-
ciples; as much as to say, Return to the man (Adam), and persuade
VOL. II. N N
274 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
him to faith whom thou didst once persuade to treachery. Carry
to man the proof of the Resurrection, to whom thou once didst
carry the counsel of Destruction.' l The visit to the sepulchre,
indeed, is too fertile a source of pious allusion not to be overlaid
with the richest offerings of the early writers in this respect.
Every detail is pressed into the service of moral illustration —
no part is allowed to lie fallow. And Art, reminded in every way
of the importance of this subject, bears witness to these admoni-
tions by the early date at which it was enrolled in the scenes
of the Passion. It appears on the earliest known ivories, par-
taking largely of the symbolism of classic imagery : and the first
conception, which continued almost unvaried in intention till the
subject was exchanged for the Resurrection, shows how finely it
was felt.
At first sight this early form seems to represent two successive
moments in the incident. For we find the women approaching
the sepulchre, the angel seated on the stone, but the guards still
lying apparently asleep at their post, who, we are told, after our
Lord had risen, 6 came into the city, and showed unto the chief
priests all the things that were done.' But a reference to St.
Matthew proves that no succession of incident was here intended,
and that the scene has all the unity of one and the same moment.
St. Matthew is the one who approaches nearest to this undescribed
event by mentioning those signs in nature which preceded or
accompanied it. ' And, behold, there was a great earthquake :
for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and
rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. His coun-
tenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow : and
for fear of him ' (not for fear, let us remark, of the sight of the
rising Lord) 6 the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.
And the angel answered and said unto the women ' (who now
evidently arrived), ' Fear not ye : for I know that je seek Jesus,
which was crucified. He is not here ; for He is risen, as He said.
Come, see the place where the Lord lay.' Thus we almost invari-
ably see the guard seated or standing by the tomb, not in real
slumber, but as ' dead men ' paralysed with terror — in reference to
whom the angel says to the women, ' Fear not y^.'
1 Chrysologos. 5th century ; quoted from ' Catena Aurea,' vol. i.
THE WOMEN AT THE SEPULCHRE. 275
Nothing can be more complete and simple thaa the conception
of this scene in the grand intention, though imperfect forms, of
early Art. The guards sit, lie, or stand, both motionless and mute.
They are reduced to mere signs of men, for Christian Art wants
no dramatic help from them, and, to turn their scared and vulgar
actions to account, shows how low so-called Christian artists subse-
quently sank. The choice of this moment, thus comprising the
inanimate guards, is doubtless in part attributable to the amplified
description of this scene in the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus.
Here the Scriptural account, almost verbatim rendered, is put into
the mouth of one of the soldiers, who reports the scene to Annas
and Caiaphas, and adds that, though through fear they became
' like persons dead,' yet they heard the words which the angel spoke
to the women. < Then the Jews called all the soldiers who had
kept guard together, and said to them, Who are these women to
whom the angel spoke? Why did you not seize them? The
soldiers answered and said, We know not who the women were ;
besides, we became as dead men through fear, and how could we
seize these women ? The Jews said to them, As the Lord liveth, we
do not believe you. And the soldiers answering said to the Jews,
When ye saw and heard Jesus working so many miracles and did
not believe Him, how should ye believe us ? Ye said well, as the
Lord liveth, for the Lord truly does live ' (chap, x.) That these
soldiers, thus convinced of the Divinity of the Lord, should after-
wards, like so many Judases, deny Him for money (see Matthew
xxviii. 15), is one proof, if any were needed, of the inconsistencies
which such writings entail.
To return to our subject. This arrangement continues to the time
of Giotto, and is seen perpetually repeated in the form of ivories and
small miniatures. But the angel sits on an open tomb, and by a fine
action, observable in many representations of this scene, points across
himself into it. ' See where the Lord lay.' The angel thus seated
on the stone has generally a staff terminating in a fleur-de-lis in his
left hand — he points with the right. This is the attribute proper to
the Archangel Gabriel, who, having announced the birth of the
Saviour, figures appropriately here as the announcer of His resur-
rection. This attribute is exchanged occasionally for a cross-sur-
mounted staff, like the cross of the Resurrection.
276
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
With the beginning of the 14th century this subject, like all
others in Christian Art, underwent a change. Duccio is a remark-
able instance of the transition. His design is strictly modelled
according to the Byzantine form, which was bursting with new
life under the young breath of Western feeling. Nothing can be
221
Maries at Sepulchre. (Duccio. Siena.)
finer than the action of awe in the foremost Mary. The action of
the angel is also retained. But from growing instincts of Art, or
waning traditions of Scripture, he .leaves out the motionless guards
altogether.
From this time the Women at the Sepulchre is a subject seldom
seen in the higher forms of Art, and when it appears, it bears that
theatrical impress common to all these subjects from the 16th cen-
tury. In such a painter as Pietro da Cortona, the women have
neither faith nor fear in their looks, and the angel, forgetting Scrip-
ture, is pointing falsely and sentimentally up to heaven. For the
reader need hardly be reminded that the words ' He is risen ' mean
not into the sky, but simply from the dead. The German engravers
have not this subject at all.
Christ's Appearance to the Virgin, which occasionally occurs,
THE APPARITIONS OF OUR LORD. 277
especially in German Art, at this stage of the series, has been fully
described in the ' Legends of the Madonna.'
THE APPARITIONS OF OUR LORD.
THE Apparitions, as they are called, of our Lord, after His Resur-
rection, are scattered among the Evangelists with that absence of
any regular plan which showed how little they took heed to agree
in the letter. St. Augustine reckons ten apparitions: — 1st, to
Mary Magdalen ; 2nd, to the Maries ; 3rd, to Peter ; 4th, to the
disciples going to Emmaus; 5th, to the Apostles at Jerusalem
without Thomas ; 6th, to the same, with Thomas ; 7th, to Peter
and others at the Sea of Tiberias ; 8th, at a mountain in Galilee ;
9th, as the eleven sat at meat ; 10th, at the Ascension. It may be
doubted whether the 9th and the 6th apparitions were not identical.
Another, that to St. James mentioned by St. Paul (1 Cor. xv. 7),
which became the subject of a legend,1 is not included by St.
Augustine, nor that to St. Paul himself: 'And last of all He was
seen of me also, as of one born out of due time.' The 3rd appari-
tion, to St. Peter, is mentioned by Luke (xxiv. 34) as to Simon,
by St. Paul as to Cephas, leaving no doubt that St. Peter was
intended. Art here deals with several subjects : whether with that
earnestness which so solemn a period peculiarly demands — whether
with that feeling which recognises our Lord as no longer suffering
but still more condescending, as not less man but mysteriously
more God — this is a question we must apply ourselves to investi-
gate.
1 See ' Sacred and Legendary Art,' vol. i. p. 25, note.
275 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MAGDALEN.
THIS subject follows immediately upon that of the Women at the
Sepulchre, and is told only by St. John. The Magdalen, left
weeping at the sepulchre by Peter and John, and engrossed by a
passion of grief, acts very differently from the other women. The
vision of the angels which terrified them seems to have had no
other effect on her than to make her tell her woe. ' But a conver-
sation with angels could not satisfy her who came to look for the
Lord of the angels.' l ' They have taken away my Lord, and I
know not where they have laid Him. And when she had thus said,
she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that
it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou ?
whom seekest thou? She, supposing Him to be the gardener, saith
unto Him, Sir, if thou have borne Him hence, tell me where thou
hast laid Him, and I will take Him away. Jesus saith unto her,
Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto Him, Rabboni, which is to
say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not' (John xx. 13-17).
The whole quotation is necessary to elucidate the Art to which it
gave rise.
St. Chrysostom says, with pious and permissible fancy, ' It seems to
me that while she was speaking to the angels, Christ appeared behind
her, and that the angels, by their posture, look, and motion, showed
that they saw the Lord, and that thus it was that she turned back.'
That the weeping woman should not recognise Christ at first,
that she should take Him for the gardener, or for anybody, is
nowise strange. It was not the darkness, as some have supposed
— for by this time with an Eastern sunrise, it could not be dark —
but her preoccupation which dazzled her eyes. She took no heed ;
she evidently had addressed herself again to the angels — her back
to Christ — as the most promising sources of help in her quest,
when that one word, ' Mary ! ' fell on her ears. She turned, and
saw what her soul sought.
Few incidents in Scripture offer such materials as this. On the
1 Jeremy Taylor, vol. iii. p. 801.
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MAGDALEN. 279
one side, dignity and beneficence, on the other, .grace and beauty,
and sorrow merging into sudden joy. Of these last-named elements
Art has taken full advantage — there is hardly a painter of female
beauty with whom the subject has not been popular. But it con-
tains much more than these two figures, or even than the touching
narrative itself directly tells. For this appearance of Christ to the
Magdalen, which stands rightly, on many occasions, in lieu of the
fact of the Resurrection, is in reality that which was needed to
invest that fact with perfect comfort to the believer. The angels
had announced ' He is risen,' but Christ Himself alone could show
in what form ' the first fruits of them that slept ' would appear.
That the Lord was the same, to ear, to eye — in love, memory, and
human interest — that He took up His identity of mind and body
where He had laid it down, unchanged by death or the grave — this
is the great truth announced by His first revelation of Himself
after His Resurrection to mortal vision, and told in those two re-
sponding and ineffable words, Mary I Master I This, accordingly,
was the stupendous fact and doctrine — given for the comfort of all
past, present, and future generations of man — which Art was
bound to represent — which the Art which addresses itself solely to
the eye was best able to represent, but which, strange to say, was
too frequently sacrificed to a puerile conceit, false alike to truth and
taste.
The Appearance of Christ to the Magdalen does not seem to occur
early in Art, but rather starts to view with that efflorescence of new
scenes which marked the 14th century. The first great Italian painters
alone seem to have understood its sublime import. Duccio and
Giotto, and Martin Schon in Germany, show us the same Jesus,
who suffered and was buried, risen again for our justification. The
revered form and the gentle countenance of the Divine Victim,
whom we have accompanied through every step of His precious
Cross and Passion, are here restored to us — no longer weary, bruised,
and dying, but fresh, vigorous, and with the standard of victory in
His grasp ; but yet the same Christ.
Duccio' s design is touching in its simplicity ; the Magdalen as
modest as she is adoring, and Christ as loving as He is divine
(woodcut, No. 222, next page). No commentators, ancient or
modern, have ever satisfactorily explained why Jesus denied to her
280
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
imploring hands that touch of Himself which He proffered to those
of the doubting disciple. But in Art this action, ' Touch me not,'
needs no vindication. He has passed the gates of death. She
is still on our side of them. He is the same, yet mysteriously
changed, for mortality has put on immortality. A narrow space
only divides them, but yet it is ' the insuperable threshold,' and
she as those 'who stretch in the abyss the ungrasped hand.' Art,
like music, is privileged to suggest many meanings besides that
prescribed.
Giotto is the only painter we have seen who brings before us a
222
Christ appearing to tne Magdalen. (Duccio. Siena.)
wider view of the scene. It would seem as if he had read the words
of St. Chrysostom, for the two angels sit solemnly at the head and
foot of the tomb, within a few feet of the Magdalen, each looking
and one pointing at Christ, as if they had just aroused her percep-
tion to whom it is she has so carelessly glanced at. And she,
dashing herself on her knees, is there before Him in a moment, her
outstretched arms seeking those feet she had been wont to clasp,
thus making His identity as certain as His Resurrection.
Such representations, and we find them reflected in the minia-
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MAGDALEN. 281
tures and other forms of Art of the period, are worthy of this subject,
but Art, though about rapidly to advance in all material powers
and beauties, was also about grievously to decline in the respect for
the simplicity of Christian truth. This decline naturally concides
with that phase of the human mind which preceded the invention
of printing, when the grand old traditions based on Scripture began
to be cast aside, and when Scripture itself, which could alone re-
fresh or replace them, was still a sealed book. It was a fatal time
to such subjects as the Agony in the Garden, and the Appearance
of Christ to the Magdalen, in which the infusion of human and
puerile conceits led equally to offences to the eye and outrages to
doctrine.
Giotto's scholars seem already to have lost the real meaning of
this subject. Their imagination found in it nothing loftier than the
fleeting fact of the Magdalen's mistaking Christ for the gardener.
All the pathos of her recognition, all the profound meaning of His
identity, were lost ; for in the place of Christ stands a figure
shouldering a spade or a shovel — an evanescent oversight as pre-
sented to the eye of the weeping woman, a profane travesty as dis-
played to that of the Christian.
A fresco, dated 1392, by Niccolo di Pietro, shows the time when
this false conception may be supposed to have been introduced.1
Even the spiritually-minded Fra Angelico had his eyes ' hoklen '
here, so that he neither saw the importance of preserving the
Lord's identity, nor the miserable absurdity of commemorating the
momentary mistake of a tear-clouded eye. He also makes Christ
shouldering a great spade, strangely incongruous with the glory
that half conceals it. It was time now that pictures ceased to be
the ' books of the simple,' when all they taught, in such a subject
as this, was that souls returned to the body with a shovel over their
shoulders. This innovation travelled slowly to the North. Martin
Schon, in the 15th century, gives the same Christ whom he has
entombed in his previous plate, only with a rich robe and the banner
1 A Byzantine picture, on panel, stated by D'Agincourt to be of the 12th or 13th
century (pi. xcii.), shows Christ with a spade, and the Magdalen in the act of embracing
His feet— a notion which the 'Touch me not ' forbids. It is probably of a much later
time. If of the 13th century, it would show that the Greek Church introduced this con-
ception of the subject.
VOL. II. 0 0
282 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of glory. Albert Diirer, in the beginning of the 16th century, seems
to halt between two opinions, and tries to serve both Wisdom and
Folly, putting the standard of victory in one hand, and a spade in
the other. Yet there have been writers on Art, and no common
ones, who have approved this wretched conceit. The Abbe Zani
apologises for ' lo SchonJ who, he says, seems to have been ashamed
to give Christ the form of a gardener, whereas, he naively urges,
' if the Magdalen had seen her Lord in a splendid garment, and
with the banner of victory, she could not have failed to recognise
Him.' But here he entangles himself in one of those apparent
dilemmas of Art which have no real difficulty in them. As stated
before, in subjects of Christian Art, where the actor and spectator
are under different conditions, which they almost always are, there
must be two different views. But Art can choose but one of them,
and is bound to prefer that which addresses itself to the spectator.
Thus the rich mantle, and the standard of victory, even the nimbus
of the Saviour, are not intended for the Magdalen's eyes. She
knows Christ by His familiar personal identity ; we know Him by
His divine attributes. Without them the story is not told, as Art
should tell it, so that those who run may read.
Like all false ideas in Art, this soon expanded into full-blown
absurdity. No painter seems to have been able to resist the seduc-
tions of going wrong ; the mine of false ore was diligently worked
out. Raphael himself led the van — if, indeed, the design ascribed
to him be his — with a figure, old and clumsy, with disorderly beard
and plebeian face, wearing a broad-brimmed hat, and with a pick-
axe on his shoulder (woodcut, No. 223). The light that encircles
this figure is utterly incongruous, and the marks of the wounds on
hands and feet profane. But for these, He would look like some
Mercury or Apollo, veiling his beams beneath a crafty disguise, in
order to beguile the rather light-looking lady at his feet.
Poussin equally bowed the knee to false gods in this respect.
With a consistency in error worthy of a better cause, Christ is made
digging up carrots, which lie strewn on the ground before Him, His
foot on the haft of the spade. Such designs would be better with-
drawn from the series of the Passion, and renamed as ' tableaux de
genre] fitting any story to them that might suggest itself, for it is
almost needless to say, that the Magdalen is as little honoured here
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MAGDALEN.
283
Christ appearing to Magdalen. (Raphael.)
as her Master. If the painter's object is the embodiment of a
momentary blunder, how comes she to be consenting to it? For
every child who has read the story knows that this is not the
person she turned to, recognised, and adored.
It is not too much to say, that no high name and no technical
merit can render such conceptions endurable. No Christian would
willingly live with the Person of our Lord thus parodied before his
eyes. It is different with those who have restricted the error to the
display of the spade only, in which they all follow each other like
sheep into a devious path. Without this, but few examples of this
subject are found in Italy after the 14th century.1 We must, there-
1 The small picture in the National Gallery, called, ' Francesco Mantegna, ' is one except-
tion.
284 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
fore, turn our attention more to the Magdalen, whose kneeling has
been a kind of test of grace and pathos for all painters of female
beauty.
Lorenzo di Credi — that one insipid offspring of the best period of
Florentine Art — is seen here to great advantage. The Magdalen in
this subject in the Uffizj at Florence, like the Woman of Samaria
at the Well by him, in the same gallery, is the highest expression
of his peculiar sweetness.
Titian also has hardly left a more exquisite conception of his
class of female beauty. In his well-known picture bequeathed by
Mr. Rogers to the National Gallery, Art can do no more in the
delineation of an earnest, impetuous, and most beautiful woman.
Her movement of recognition has been so sudden, that the delicate
sleeve still stirs in the air. The Christ, however finely coloured,
and forgetting His long scythe-like instrument, is an awkward and
unsympathetic figure. But Titian sought nothing more here than
what he has rendered, and we want no fiction of angels or tomb in
that glorious Italian landscape.
Correggio, who, as we have seen in his Agony in the Garden,
was one of the few to resist a false convention, has kept clear of the
gardener delusion. His Christ, however, in his picture at Madrid,
has nothing spiritual about Him, except the master's exquisite
chiaroscuro ; but the Magdalen, though loaded with more drapery
than she can carry, has an unspeakable beauty.
Barroccio (died 1612), a great painter, however frivolous his
types, is better here, in the picture in the Uffizj, than better men.
If frivolous, he is not false. The moment chosen, too, is a variation
from the everlasting ' Noli me tangere,' which demands a nicety of
action for which but few were competent. He has chosen the mo-
ment of recognition ; the sound of that one word has scarcely passed
her Lord's lips — only long enough for the Magdalen to snatch her
handkerchief from her eyes, for her kneeling position is what she
evidently assumed to stoop and look into the sepulchre, in which
posture she may be supposed to have ' turned ' alternately to the
angels and the Lord.
It needed the lapse of time to disengage the beautiful and fertile
suggestions of this narrative from the absurdities which had encum-
bered it. Protestant religious Art hardly applied its freshened eye
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MAGDALEN. 285
to the subject. Bembrandt would scarcely have ventured to depict
the Magdalen. But a late great master, alone in his generation,
gazing mentally upon the scene, saw it all centred in one wonder
and joy- smitten face. The single head of the Magdalen, by the
lamented Ary Scheffer, hearing the one word, ' Mary ! ' gives the
very quintessence of fact and doctrine. In these blue eyes,
suddenly dried, opened, and illumined, Christ is visible in His own
benign Person ; come not only to show that ' because I live ye
shall live also,' but that in ' this flesh ' we shall see God.
286 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE APPEARANCE OF CHRIST TO THE MARIES.
THIS subject has a place in Art, though it rarely occurs. St.
Matthew, whose text, as we have seen, was selected by early Art as
the chief authority for the subject of the Women at the Sepulchre,
continues thus : ' And as they went to tell His disciples, behold,
Jesus met them, saying, All hail I And they came and held Him
by the feet, and worshipped Him.' The difference between the
narratives of Scripture regarding the visits of the women to the
sepulchre gave rise to much argument among the mediaeval writers.
None have denied that our Lord appeared twice — first to the
Magdalen, and secondly to the women returning to the city ; but
some have literally followed the words of Matthew, that the
Magdalen was with the latter party, and thus saw Him twice,
when, it appears, the interdict against touching His Person was
taken off, for, as we see, they held Him by the feet. In ancient
miniatures the Magdalen is omitted, and only two women meet
Him.1 Giotto is the only Italian master we remember who gives
this second apparition. In his picture in the Accademia at Flor-
ence he introduces the Magdalen, and altogether lends it the
character of a ' Noli me tangere.' But in miniatures of that time
we occasionally see the figure of our Lord, always in the act of
blessing, with the women clustered round His feet. The Greek
Church makes the Virgin one of the three Myrrhophores — a suppo-
sition at variance with Scripture, propriety, and legend. For the
great argument of old Latin writers is that the Virgin, keeping in
her heart the words of Christ, that He should rise the third day, and
thus representing in her sole person the immutable faith of the
Church, stayed in her house that first morning after the Sabbath,
and there received her Son's visit. (See Mrs. Jameson's < Legends
of the Madonna.')
1 Greek MS., No. 510, Bibliotheque Imperials.
THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 287
THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS.
Les Pelerius d'Emraaus.
THIS incident appears neither in St. Matthew nor St. John— is
mentioned only briefly by St. Mark : 6 After that' (the appearance
to the women), ' He appeared in another form unto two of them,
as they walked, and went into the country ; ' and as follows by St.
Luke : c And behold, two of them went that same day to a village
called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore
furlongs. And they talked together of all these things which had
happened. And it came to pass, that, while they communed to-
gether and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them.
But their eyes were holden, that they should not know Him. And
He said unto them, What manner of communications are these, that
ye have one to another as ye walk, and are sad? And the one of
them, whose name was Cleopas, answering, said unto Him, Art thou
only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which
are come to pass there in these days ? . . . And they drew nigh
unto the village whither they went : and He made as though He
would have gone further. But they constrained Him, saying, Abide
with us : for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent. And
He went in to tarry with them ' (Luke xxiv.)
The only disciple here named is Cleopas. But by Origen, St.
Peter is supposed to have been the other, and that this is the ap-
pearance of Christ to him to which allusion has been made (see
p. 277). This it is only needful to mention, because Art seems in
some instances to have adopted this conjecture.
The subject of the Journey to Emmaus was also the fruit of the
14th century. It does not occur at all in the Greek Church, which
thereby reduces the number of apparitions to nine, and which
accounts for its not appearing in that earlier Art in Italy which was
always based on Byzantine tradition. Duccio, who swelled the in-
cidents of the Passion, as recorded in Art, to the unprecedented
288
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
number of twenty-six, was probably the first who introduced the
subject to the world (woodcut, No. 224). With his fine feeling,
he chose the true dramatic moment, when, coming in sight of
Emmaus, called by the early writers a ' fortress ' or ' castle,' the
Lord made as if He would have gone farther, and the disciples
constrained Him to abide with them.
There are few instances more capable of refinement of expression
and action than this. On the oue hand, the humility of the glorified
224
rj^/^T*x>-Y
Journey to Emmaus. (Duccio. Siena.)
Saviour, thus subjecting Himself to the conditions of a roadside
wanderer, and putting the hospitality of His former followers to the
proof, and on the other, their constraint practised freely on Him,
more affectionately even (the original text bespeaks a vehement
pressing) than the shortness of their intercourse warranted; for
had not their hearts ' burned within them' at the wisdom of His
discourse by the way ? Duccio's conception tells the tale at once.
They are at a point where two roads meet. There is the battle -
mented gate to the village, the rough paved way through it, and
the younger traveller, the more demonstrative of the two, is pointing
JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 289
in that direction ; yet with a reverential courtesy of action which
satisfies our jealousy for the divinity of the unknown guest. Christ
stands by, only known to us by His doubled-ringed glory, other-
wise no longer the Christ of the former scenes, and, this time,
justifiably changed, for He appeared 'in another form.' But, it may
be asked, why is this other form here, and generally in Art, studi-
ously that of a pilgrim ? with the hat, the staff, and the satchel. The
answer is, that a conception in Art turns occasionally, as we have
seen in ' the Agony in the Garden,' upon a single word — following
the letter and all its extremest consequences rather than the spirit,
and following it harmlessly in this case. For it is the word stranger
— ' Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem ? ' (in the Latin text
peregrinus, or pilgrim) — which is the sole key to this invariable
mode of representation, the word bearing the same twofold mean-
ing from the days of St. Paul — who speaks of i strangers and pil-
grims ' only as synonyms of the same thing — to those of Duccio,
when every stranger was still a pilgrim.1
This literal interpretation also suited the times, in respect of the
hospitality to pilgrims enjoined to all the faithful, and regularly
provided for in all religious houses. Thus, the Journey to Emmaus
became the type of hospitality in the broader sense, and of con-
ventual charity in particular, by which, according to the fervid
feeling of the day, angels, and more than angels, might be enter-
tained unawares.
For this reason it was, that Fra Augelico painted this subject
in the convent of S. Marco, over the door by which travellers
were admitted to entertainment; pointing the beautiful moral
further, for his particular purpose, by transforming the disciples
into pious Dominican monks, who, with gentle force, are constrain-
ing the heavenly Guest to abide with them (woodcut, No. 225,
next page). All the gracious soul of Fra Angelico is in this design,
a fit monitor to works of mercy : i Inasmuch as ye have done it
unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto
1 It may be added, that the sense attached by the Latin commentators to the passage
containing this suggestive word is not the same as in our English version. We have it,
' Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem ?' &c. ; they, ' Tu solus peregrinus es in Jerusalem,'
or, ' Thou art the only stranger in Jerusalem who has not known these things.'
VOL. II. P P
290
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Journey to Emmaus. (Fra Angelico. S. Marco.)
Fra Bartolomeo, another Dominican painter of the same Con-
vent of S. Marco, in Florence, has the same subject on a similar
compartment, and obviously imitated from Fra Angelico.
The subject is rare in Art, requiring, as it did, great nicety and
refinement of treatment to render three male figures, of about the
same age, attractive to a generation whose ' itching ' eyes sought
chiefly extravagance of action and violence of contrast. And it
was the more difficult to treat when a less dramatic moment was
chosen; as in a picture by Altobello Mellone (flourished in the
16th century), now in the collection of Count Castlebarco, at Milan,
formerly in S. Bartolomeo, in Cremona, where the Christ is re-
presented as having just joined the two pedestrians, His hand on
the shoulder of the elder figure, who looks like St. Peter. Here
the Lord is again in a pilgrim's habit, while, in the absence of the
glory, the marks of the wounds on hands and feet reveal to us His
identity.
But soon the very slender cause which had invested our Lord in
JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. 291
this scene with the habit of a pilgrim was forgotten, and the two
disciples, for no reason at all, adopted the pilgrim's costume, while
our Lord retained His usual vest and mantle. Sometimes even all
three are in the pilgrim's habit. In a miniature of the 14th century,
in the old Burgundian Library at Brussels,1 where the three are
walking side by side, attired exactly alike, the centre figure is en-
tirely gilt, as a sign of His glorified state.
" Either of these last conceptions accounts for the French title for
the subject — ' Les Pelerins d'Emmaus.'
1 Latin Psalter. No. 9961.
292 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS.
Ital. Xostro Signore in Eraaus (or, in fractions panis). Fr. Les Pelerins d'Emmans.
Germ. Christus mit den Jiingern zu Emmaus.
THIS scene is only mentioned by St. Luke : ' And it came to pass, as
He sat at meat with them, He took bread, and blessed it, and brake,
and gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew
Him ; and He vanished out of their sight ' (Luke xxiv. 30, 31).
When two subjects follow closely on each other, both indicating
the same fact, as in this case — where the Journey to Emmaus and
the Supper at Emmaus both represent the same appearance of
Christ — we must expect that they will alternately prevail, but
seldom be simultaneously seen in Art. We see them together,
though rarely, in the form of miniatures in early MSS., but
otherwise the subject of the Supper does not occur till the 15th
century. There were other reasons for its being thus unfrequent.
The first condition of all Art is distinctness of meaning. Subjects,
accordingly, which bore a general likeness to those already before
the eye of ' the simple ' were avoided. And here not only the Last
Supper, given often with far less than thirteen figures, but the
Pharisee's Feast, often seen with no more than three, were each
likely to be confounded with the new comer. A mutilated bas-
relief, placed in the basement story of the gallery at Bologna,
representing the Supper at Emmaus, shows an early example of
the subject. Being accompanied by a bas-relief of the same series,
of Christ appearing to the Magdalen, where our Lord is already
invested with the spade, the execution of both can hardly be earlier
than the end of the 14th century. The arrangement is simple :
three figures at a table — Christ in the centre — only bread before
Him, which bears the mark of a cross. This leads to the probably
direct cause for the more general introduction of this subject, viz. ,
its interpretation as a type of the Sacrament of the Last Supper.
There is evidence among the early Fathers that the incident at
Emmaus was so considered. Speaking of the blindness of the
THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS. 293
disciples on the way, St. Augustine says, ' For we do not unfitly
take this obstacle in their sight to have been caused by Satan, that
Jesus might not be known ; but still it was so permitted by Christ
up to the Sacrament of the Bread, that by partaking of the unity
of His Body, the obstacle of the enemy might be understood to be
removed.'
We must bear in mind, too, that the subject of the Last Supper,
from its peculiar length, was one for which it was not easy to find
adequate space. Accordingly, we observe that one of the first
pictures of the Supper at Emmaus was painted, evidently in lieu
of the Last Supper, for the Chapel of the Sacrament in S. Salvatore,
at Venice, where it still remains. This is the well-known picture
by Bellini, in which the turbaned head in shade of the figure on
the right, is supposed to be the portrait of the painter's brother,
Gentile.
The moment chosen is always the moment of the disciples' en-
lightenment— the breaking of the bread, * in fractione panis. 'Christ
in this view, the presider at the board, always faces the spectator
in the centre. Whether the meal had been commenced is question-
able ; Art was therefore left free to load the table with dishes, or,
following only the chief idea, to place bread alone before the Lord.
But a subject first starting into life in the 15th century, and
especially in the atmosphere of Venice, where it oftenest occurs,
was not likely to be conceived in a very ascetic or ideal spirit.
Accordingly, in the gorgeous pictures in which the theme was em-
bodied, there is the natural reflection of the generous fare and
sumptuous raiment which were habitually before the painters' eyes.
They introduced also the portraits of friends, or, as we shall see, of
distinguished personages. Their favourite animals also figured in
the scene — in Bellini there is his tame partridge— the table is spread
with damask ; rich curtains or pompous architecture inframe a
background of Italian beauty ; melting fruits, flasks of Cyprus
wine, and Venetian glass adorn the board. A page with feathered
cap is bringing a dish; the host looks on to see that his. guests
are well served, and a dog and cat have already begun their meal
under the table.
Such, at least, is the conception given by Titian in more than
one version of the scene (woodcut, No. 226, next page). In his
294
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
glorious picture in the Louvre — glorious in the sense of Art with-
out reference to religious feeling — the disciple on the right of the
Saviour, raising his hands with no more vehemence of surprise than
might become the greatest monarch of the time, is supposed to be
the portrait of the Emperor Charles Y. ; the disciple on the left,
already started from his seat, though in no more haste than is con-
venient to a corpulent man, with folded unctuous palms, and round
shaven face, and a pilgrim's hat hanging over his shoulders, that
of Cardinal Ximenes ; while the page, with plumed cap, is meant
Supper at Emmaus. (Titian. Louvre.)
for the Infant, afterwards Philip II. ; and the host, with both hands
cavalierly stuck in his belt, for the grinder of Titian's colours.1
Paul Veronese, a half-century later, has further secularised the
subject. In his grand picture, also in the Louvre, the chief incident
1 This picture was originally painted by Titian for the Sala de' Pregadi in the Ducal
Palace. The age of the page, apparently about nine or ten years old, would assign the
date of the work to 1536 or 1537, Philip II. having been born in 1527. This also agrees
with Titian's first (?) meeting with Charles V. in 1536, when the Infant may be supposed
to have been with his father.
THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS. 295
is almost lost in the crowd of seventeen persons .which surround it
— chiefly consisting, it is said, of the painter, his wife and family,
many of whom are nearer the spectator's eye than the sacred group.
This is especially the case with two little girls fondling a splendid
dog in the foreground. Here, as in preceding representations, the
idea of Christ being the pilgrim or stranger is lost. He is in His
usual attire, while the disciples have each the pilgrim's staff in
their hands — an implement they would certainly not have retained
in their grasp whilst seated at table.
The picture of the subject by Marco Marziale, in the Belle Arti at
Venice, is very remarkable. Both the disciples — grand, careworn
men — are represented as pilgrims, the idea being carried out in the
minutest details of their costume. On each side of Christ is ail
attendant, one of them a negro, as typical of the Gentiles, with
folded arms, and an expression of peculiar awe. The moment of
dawning enlightenment on the part of the two disciples is wonder-
fully expressed. Altogether, this picture, which is executed with
a Dutch minuteness, has a reality which overpowers the conven-
tion, and converts these travel-soiled men into real wanderers and
pilgrims, so that the curious staff with pointed end, and hook for
carrying the wallet — a complete memento of the familiar imple-
ment of the time — which lies on the floor before the table, seems
to belong naturally to those hardy hands.
But if the general likeness of a subject involving figures seated
at a table to the Last Supper and to the Pharisee's Feast was the
reason for the non-appearance of the Supper at Emmaus in the
series of early Art, the very fact of such likeness evidently became
one reason for its admission into the category of Art in the jovial
16th century. Baldassare Peruzzi's ' Four Banquets,' painted,
probably, for some Sybarite's palace in Rome, and known by the
engravings, represent the Marriage at Cana? the Pharisee's Feast,
the Last Supper, and the Supper at Emmaus.
Jacobo Bassano was rather less profane in his choice. His
Supper at Emmaus, with the cook at the fire, and a servant
arranging the drinking-cups, is called ' La terza Cucina.' The
other two cooking scenes are represented by the Rich Man's Feast
with Lazarus at the door, and our Lord entertained by Martha and
Mary.
296 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Thus this subject may be said to have had comparatively no
infancy of earnestness and innocence, but to have been born at once
in the pomps and vanities of mature Art, and in the purple and
fine linen of the Venetian school especially. It was destined, how-
ever, to more reverent treatment in a Northern land, and to return
under the hands of one of the greatest religious painters in the
world to those first spiritual principles which were always the dowry
of early Art. Rembrandt took the subject of the Supper at
Emmaus, and baptized it in the pure waters of the Gospel His
small and exquisite picture in the Louvre brings it for the first
time into the cycle of religious Art. Here there is no lust of the
flesh, or pride of the eye; no Christ, comely and well-liking,
redolent of the good things of this world, with kings of the earth
and portly ecclesiastics, playing with senseless pilgrims' staves,
for His mock disciples. But here we have before us a countenance,
pale and tender, meek and lowly of heart, adorned only with
holiness and glorified life — with eyes of unfathomable pathos,
needing no theatrical upcasting, for they see God everywhere.
Here, too, we find that however 4 holden ' the eyes of the disciples
till then, that face, so full of love and pity, those gracious, gentl^
hands, blessing the fruits of the earth, are sufficient to: enlighten
the blindest. Nor are these humble men, absorbed in* sudden
surprise, put into any fancy dress to illustrate the shadow of u
wrongly interpreted word. Pilgrims they are, in the sense of
6 pilgrims and strangers on earth ; ' such pilgrims as will rise up that
same hour and go back the eight miles of the dusty way, to bring
to the Apostles the glad tidings of the Lord's Resurrection, and
6 how He was known to them in the breaking of bread.' Their
actions, too, are touchingly true — the dignity of Nature, though
seen in the lowliest of her children. One already perceiving all,
with folded hands ; the other, who is much like St. Peter, rising
with hand on chair, scarcely trusting his eyes. And on the table
there are no viands, and only the plainest utensils, with a space of
mere light before the Saviour — that light with which the great
painter transfigured the commonest objects, and which mildly
illumines the rough walls, more like a prison than a palace, on
which no decoration is seen but the mantles the weary men have
thrown off and hung on a homely stand.
THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS. 297
Rembrandt has also the subject more than once in his etchings.
In one remarkable instance he goes farther in time, and gives a
moment none but himself has conceived. Here the astonishment
of the disciples, the sense of something supernatural, extends to
the spectator — for the Lord is gone ! The bread He broke is there,
but He has vanished, and the empty chair standing by the table
seems to mock the sight.
VOL. n.
298 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS.
Ital. L'Incredulita di S. Tommaso. Fr. L'lncredulit^ de Thomas ; or, TAttouchement
de Thomas. Germ. Der unglaubige Thomas.
ST. JOHN alone relates the incident which furnishes this subject.
On the first appearance of Christ to the Apostles collectively, on
the evening of the first day of the week, when the disciples from
Emmaus had first joined them, Thomas, not having been present,
refused to believe in his Lord's Resurrection : ' Except I shall
see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the
print of the nails, and thrust my hand into His side, I will not
believe. And after eight days again His disciples were within,
and Thomas with them : then came Jesus, the doors being shut,
and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you. Then said
He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands ;
and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side : and be
not faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto
Him, My Lord and my God.'
This subject was too important not to find place in Art. To the
early theologians it became the occasion of much pious argument,
involving, St. Gregory says, the contradiction, according to our
human reason, of a body so spiritual as to enter through closed doors,
and yet so material as to be palpable to touch. Further, it was de-
bated how a matter of faith should have been made subject by the
Lord Himself to the conditions of sight and touch, faith being the
evidence of things not seen. This question was answered in the
same over-refining spirit ; viz., that Thomas did not actually believe
on sight, but that seeing and touching the Man, he confessed the
God — an explanation, we need hardly say, invalidating all the force
of the Lord's reproof: c Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou
hast believed ; blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have
believed.' Others, more justifiably, argued that Thomas, struck with
awe, may have abstained from touching at all, since Scripture does
not say that he actually did so, But if this version ever obtained
THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS.
299
in theology, it has left no traces on Art, which invariably represents
Thomas as reaching his hand to touch, or in the act of touching,
the wound in the side.
The Greek Church gave an early form to this subject. It was
seen on the doors executed in the llth century of the now de-
stroyed Church of S. Paolo-fuori-le-Mura at Rome1 — our Lord
standing on a throne under a canopy, while St. Thomas, bending
forward with reverence, lifts his hand
to the side. The Apostles stand, five
on each side, in actions of wonder
and humility.
This is the type which continued
in miniatures and other forms of
Art — the Lord sometimes assuming
a grand gesture with the uplifted
right arm, as in this illustration
(No. 227) from a miniature of about
the year 1200, in the British Museum.
Giotto retains the same arrangement
in his series of the Passion in the
Academy at Florence; but Thomas
has drawn nearer to Jesus, and in-
stead of reaching the hand towards
the side, his fingers are buried in the
wound. Here we again trace some-
thing of that Thomas-like spirit pre-
vailing at Giotto's time, wliich Art,
as in the subject of the Resurrection,
sought to meet by more palpable
proof. It was the consciousness of
that spirit of doubt — leading the
painter to place the hand of Thomas
in the very wound — which here and in other subjects swept away
reverential forms in Art. The same spirit in due time made the
Lord no longer standing majestically, and almost unconcernedly,
with uplifted arm, but with His hand lowered, showing the print
of the wound, or even participating in the act, and Himself guiding
1 D'Agincourt. Scultura, tab. xv.
Incredulity of Thomas (Byzantine
MS., Harleian, 1810. A i>. 1200).
300 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
the hand of the unbeliever to His side.1 This is seen as early
as Cima da Conegliano, pupil of Bellini, whose picture in the
Venetian Academy shows how much the composition lost by this
vain attempt to give double assurance to the eye. By this
conception, the Lord's arm is lowered, the head and eyes cast
down, while the act of guiding St. Thomas's hand is in itself an
undignified and thankless movement (woodcut, No. 228).
The same degenerate conception is given by Michael Angelo
Caravaggio, in a picture in the Vatican Gallery, by Mattia Preti,
228 The Incredulity of Thomas. (Cima. Belle Arti, Venice.)
in the Dresden Gallery, and by many other painters of this sub-
ordinate class. And by few others was the Incredulity of St.
Thomas attempted, the subject offering little pictorial attraction to
eyes educated in mature and gorgeous Art.
In order, possibly, to counterbalance the sacrifice thus made of
general elevation of sentiment which must have been tacitly felt
by the painter, St. Thomas was occasionally placed on one knee,
and in that position putting his fingers into the wound, This is seen
in a picture by Andrea del Sarto, in another by Lairesse, and in
1 M. Didron says that, after the 13th century, the Incredulity of St. Thomas was
often represented, and that the early sculpture in Paris, Ma viile du scepticisine, ' shows
by its numerous and significant representations of the appearances of Christ, the anxiety
that was felt to prove the fact of the Insurrection. — Guide de la Peinture Grecque, note,
p. 200,
THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS. 301
others mentioned by Zani. More rarely is the. Apostle on both
knees, not raising his hand at all, but confessing his fault with
outstretched arms, ' My Lord and my God.' Poussin gives this
moment with the Apostles on each side, and the closed doors
behind. This is meant for a purely historical conception. Other-
wise, after the time of Giotto, the Apostles ceased to group round
the principal figures, their presence in no way assisting the con-
viction of the spectator. In Cima's picture the presence of St.
Magnus, Bishop of Aquileia, patron saint, probably, of the
individual for whom the picture was executed, gives it a devotional
rather than historical character.
Cavazzuola, a great cinquecento Veronese painter, only now
beginning to take his place in the history of Art, has a fine picture
of this subject in the Verona Gallery. Christ has here the banner
of the Resurrection in His left hand. In the background is seen
the Ascension on the one hand, and the Descent of the Holy Ghost
on the other.
Guercino has the same subject — half-length figures — in the
gallery of the Vatican.1
1 The Incredulity of St. Thomas forms one of the modern mosaics in St. Peter's at
Rome, executed from a picture by Camuccini, who apparently took the composition from
a picture signed, 'Marcus de Pino faciebat A.D. 1573,' in the cathedral at Naples.
302 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
JESUS APPEARING AT THE SEA OF TlBERIAS.
Fr. Le Christ apparalt aux Apotres sur la Mer de Tib^riade.
THIS subject is rarely seen in modern Art, and not at all in early
forms. It is mentioned by St. John only, and it was in this wise
that Jesus showed Himself. The disciples had been out fishing all
night. * But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the
shore : but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Then Jesus
saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat? They answered
Him, No.' The Lord then told them to cast the net on the right
side of the ship, and for the multitude of fishes they were not able
to draw it up. Then St. John said to St. Peter, remembering,
doubtless, the miraculous draught of fishes, ' It is the Lord ; ' and
Peter girt his fisherman's coat unto him, and cast himself into the
sea to come to Jesus.
This is the moment chosen, as seen in a picture by Cigoli, in the
Pitti Palace. Our Lord stands on the shore; Peter is close to Him,
half in the water, looking in His face with as much awe as faith,
for ' none of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art Thou ? knowing
that it was the Lord.' The boats are close by, with figures pulling
up the nets — St. Thomas, who is individual^ named in the gospel
— true to his character, either not suspecting or not believing —
busied in the work, while St. John, a young figure in the boat,
looks at our Lord with intense devotion. Sometimes a fire is seen
burning on the shore.
We frequently find this incident mistaken for the next following
— the Charge to Peter; also, more pardonably, for the Miraculous
Draught of Fishes — while in the old catalogue of the Pitti Gallery,
where names of incidents, as of masters, were little discriminated,
it is called Peter walking on the Water — * S. Pietro che cammina
Bulle acque.'
THE CHARGE TO PETER. 303
THE CHARGE TO PETER.
THIS is the title given to the incident following the last, with the
interval of the repast between, also told only by St. John. < So
when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of
Jonas, lovest thou me more than these ? He saith unto Him, Yea,
Lord; Thou knowest that I love Thee.' The Lord put this question
to Peter three times, in mystical allusion, it is supposed, to the
Apostle's three denials, adding each time, ; Feed my sheep.'
There is something singularly unadapted to the reading of the
eye in this incident. Art requires action. Here there is none,
except that of one figure addressing another, but for what purpose,
and whether for the first or third time, it would be impossible for
Art to convey. It therefore might be predicated that this subject
remained unthought of in Art before the dogma of the supremacy
of the Romish Church arose, and also during those times when that
dogma was not questioned. We therefore look backward for the
appearance in Art of the Charge to Peter to a particular period in
the history of Christianity, as men look forward to the appearance
of a comet at a particular junction in the heavenly bodies. And we
find it, accordingly, emerging above the horizon at the close of the
15th century, and completely above it in the reign of Leo the
Tenth ; also first seen in works of importance in the locality most
suited to its presence— viz., in the Sistine Chapel of the Vatican.
Perugino's fresco of the Charge to Peter still exists on the right-
hand wall, and Raphael's cartoon of the subject is one of the series
originally intended to adorn the lower part of the same walls. In
both these, and generally in all representations, the giving of the
Keys is added to the subject of the Charge ; or rather, in point of
Art, it may be said to supersede it, for this assertion of a dogma,
under the form of the giving and taking of a conventional imple-
ment, shuts out all remembrance of the Scripture narrative. This
is especially the case with Raphael's cartoon, which suffers by com-
parison with its fellow- works ; for after standing before the Death
of Ananias, the Preaching of St. Paul, and others, which bespeak
304 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
the closest adherence to the spirit of the sacred text, the eye turns
away with more than indifference from these actual sheep and these
gigantic keys, which have no possible point of congruitj', except
that of an equal departure from the laws of Art and the simplicity
of the Gospel. In other respects, where the great master may be
supposed to have followed his own feeling rather than the required
forms of the time, his genius is vindicated, for in the arrangement
of twelve male figures, ten of whom are without any distinguishing
action, he has left a masterpiece of composition.
Donatello rendered the giving the Keys to Peter in a flat relief
of indescribable beauty, lately purchased from the Campana collec-
tion, and now in the South Kensington Museum.1 The Virgin,
here crouched in front, has something hag-like in form and expres-
sion, though with a grandeur which silences criticism.
The Greek Church has in this subject merely recourse to inscrip-
tions to explain its meaning. The Christ is standing holding a
scroll, on which is written, ' Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me ?'
St. Peter, standing before Him, says on another scroll, ' Lord,
Thou knowest all things ; Thou knowest that I love Thee.'
1 See description and plate in 'Italian Sculpture of the Middle Ages/ by J. C,
Robinson, Esq.
THE ASCENSION. 305
THE ASCENSION.
Jtal. L'Ascensione. /•>. L'Asceusion. Germ. Die Himmelfahrt.
THIS last incident, properly speaking, of the Passion and Death
of our Blessed Redeemer, is stated very simply in the Gospels.
Neither St. Matthew nor St. John mentions it at all, and St. Mark
rather as an article of faith. ' So, then, after the Lord had spoken
unto them, he was received up into heaven, and sat on the right
hand of God.' This testimony is embodied almost verbatim in the
Creed : ' He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand
of God.' St. Luke also speaks of the Ascension very briefly :
6 And He led them out as far as to Bethany, and He lifted up His
hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while He blessed
them, He was parted from them, and carried up into heaven.' But
this Evangelist reserved a fuller account of the stupendous event
for the Acts of the Apostles, where, in the first words of the first
chapter, he enters, on the subject: ' The former treatise have I
made, 0 Tneophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach,
until the day in which He was taken up.' Then, after referring to
Christ's appearance 'after His Passion,' and the promise of the
Holy Ghost conveyed by the Saviour's last words, he thus, with
singular circumstantiality, describes the scene of the Ascension :
4 And when He had spoken these things, while they beheld, He was
taken up ; and a cloud received Him out of their sight. And while
they looked steadfastly towards heaven, as He went up, behold,
two men stood by them in white apparel, which also said, Ye men
of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same Jesus,
which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like
manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven.'
This description, in part or as a whole, has been, during a number
of centuries, variously turned to the purposes of Art. The Ascension
is not among the very earliest subjects of Christian Art. Like the
other great fundamental articles of our Creed, it seems at first to
have been considered as above any evidence that could be presented
VOL. II. K R
306
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
to the eye. Until perhaps the 7th or 8th century, we see no Cruci-
fixions, Entombments, or Resurrections, even under the figure of
the Descent into Hell, and also no Ascensions. The first forms
under which the subject appears are very simple, but strikingly,
effective. An early ivory1 represents Him without nimbus to head,
or glory to person, His back turned to the spectator, in the act of
lively flight — birdlike — towards heaven,
where the hand of the Father is stretched
towards Him. Below are the Apostles, one
of them probably meant for St. Peter, with
outstretched arms after His Lord. There
is fine feeling in the figure of the Lord,
thus immediately averted from earth and
turned to the heavenly joys awaiting Him
(woodcut, No. 229). We feel this early
form, therefore, to be the work of a true
artist, kindling the imagination with what
is hidden from the sight.
Another form gives the Saviour alone —
springing from the grotesque cone of a hill
— with His figure also turned from earth,
and the arms extended towards a rainbow semicircle (frequently
seen in miniatures of the 9th or 10th century) above. Here2 there
are no figures at all below, but the words, ' Ascendans in altum
captivam duxit captivitatem.' Later than this, though it would
be difficult to pronounce the date, is a miniature engraved in
D'Agincourt (pi. xliii.) The Christ is in the same significant
position, though less averted — with the plain Cross of the Resur-
rection in the left hand — the right uplifted, and already grasped by
the hand of the Father above. On each side of Him, in the air, is
an angel directing the attention of the Apostles below to the
ascending figure ; on the one side are five figures of the disciples
standing, headed by a female figure with a nimbus, doubtless in-
tended for the Virgin. On the other are six figures, making up
the eleven existing at that time.
In the llth and 12th centuries, Christ is seen surrounded by a
1 Arundel. Class 4.
2 Evangeliarium. Brussels Library, No. 9428.
2'29 Ascension. (Early ivory.)
THE ASCENSION.
307
massive oval glory: the figure in profile, as if the sentiment of
His turning to the joy that was set before Him were gradually
waning ; the hand of the Father still above, two angels in the
air, evidently addressing the Apostles and the Virgin below;
Christ's foot is still on the cone of a hill, below which a bust-
length of the Prophet Habakkuk is seen looking up, and bear-
ing a scroll with his name (woodcut, No. 230). This is supposed
, 230
Ascension. (Ivory. 12th century.)
to be iii allusion to the passage in the second chapter of his
book : * The Lord is in His holy temple : let all the earth keep
silence before Him.' l Still the Christ is here moving upwards by
1 Even as early as this period great confusion of idea is observable in the conception
of the subject. D'Agincourt gives a plate (No. xxvii.) from a Syriac miniature, where a
female figure with upraised hands — the action of prayer — intended probably for the
Virgin, stands in the centre below ; the Apostles ou each side, and the two angels in the
308 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
His own apparent act, He canning with Him the glory round His
Person, not the glory bearing Him, and thus retaining the char-
acter of voluntary movement which ought to distinguish the
Ascension from the Transfiguration, and from other and abstract
representations of our Lord in the air. This was, doubtless, in
allusion to His cleaving or breaking the way to heaven for the
souls that were to follow through His Atonement. For, by early
theologians, a passage in Micah was interpreted to refer to the
Ascension of the Lord. ; The Breaker is come up before them ;
they have broken up, and have passed through the gate, and are
gone out by it, and their king shall pass before them, and the
Lord on the head of them ' (Micah ii. 13).
It would seem as if the words, ' He was taken up,' were, as
time progressed, interpreted to mean the interposition of angels
and the help of heavenly machinery. Christ no longer takes
personal part in the act of movement, but, by the 12th and
13th centuries, appears seated passively in the mandorla, which
is carried along by the sole agency of angels. Here, there-
fore, the main and actual idea of the Ascension is sacrificed.
The glory in which the Lord sits is held by angels like a
tableau presented to the view of those below, whom He is bless-
ing from that height; but there is no sign that He is receding
from them. It is a more sumptuous composition than that of
a single figure rising through the air, but it is not so impressive,
and was probably derived from the stage machinery of sacred
plays.
Contemporary with this form of representation, and lasting
through many generations, is another phase of the subject, more
real in intention, but curiously showing the helplessness of Art
which preceded the revival of painting in Italy. Taking advantage
of a line in the sacred text, ' And a cloud received Him out of
their sight,' the Person of the Saviour is ingeniously concealed from
midst, energetically pointing to the vision above. In the Christ, however, who stands
with a terrible countenance above — holding a large scroll, and surrounded with a glory
supported by angels, on a sort of platform full of eyes, with four fiery wings, and the
heads of a lion, an ox, an eagle, and an angel — ' The living creature that I saw under
the God of Israel by the river of Chebar ' (Ezekiel x. 20)— we recognise the vision of
Ezekiel. But this miniature, attributed to the 4th century, is probably as falsely dated
as it is named.
THE ASCENSION. 300
sight. At first this extended to the upper half of the Person,
which is buried in clouds,1 but soon this device was adopted to get
rid of the difficulty of the figure altogether, and nothing further
was given to the eye of the spectator than the -
hem of the garment and the feet of the Lord
(woodcut, No. 231); this remained the con-
venient resource for a considerable time, Fra
,. , . , „ ,, „ ,... 231 MS., British Museum.
Angelico, in his devout following of tradition, BibiiaRegia, as. vi.
being the last painter of any note who took advantage of
it. In his Ascension, in the Academy at Florence, only the
lower part of the drapery is seen through the clouds that receive
Him.
But Giotto, before this, had cast aside all trammels of helpless-
ness. His fresco of the Ascension in the Chapel of the Arena has
the full composition below — the Apostles, the Virgin, and the
angels addressing them — while in the figure of the Lord, which is
entirely seen, he has returned to the early and beautiful action by
which the Saviour is turning eagerly from the earth to glories con-
cealed from us. Here He is again ' the Breaker,' opening the way
to heaven before us; .the action gaining fresh force and beauty by
the sloping position of the figure, which, carrying along its own
glory, is buoyant with its own divine power. Here no angel
ventures to give help to Him who is able to draw all after Him ;
but the heavenly host — saints above and angels below — adore at
respectful distance, and soar upward with Him. We give an
etching. The figures below are shading their eyes from the light.
This fresco is but a wreck, one foot of the Saviour obliterated, and
the angels terminating cloudily rather from the injuries of time
and man than from intention ; yet the sublime expression cf the
composition is still conveyed. The arrangement of saints and
angels on each side was, doubtless, in allusion to a belief em-
bodied in the writings of the Fathers, that the heavenly host, each
in their order, came to meet the Lord on His Ascension, inclining
themselves before Him, and singing hymns of ineffable triumph.
It would seem that St. Michael was believed to be one of the angels
who addressed the Apostles — ' Ye men of Galilee ' — an office quite
consistent with him who was especially the Patron Saint and
1 MS. Cotton. Nero, C. VI. British Museum.
310 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Prince of the Church Militant, and that hastening before our Lord
to Paradise, he announced His coming and sent forth the host to
meet Him. x
Many magnificent representations of the Ascension followed
Giotto's example in one respect — viz., in the distance at which the
angels are placed, so that the figure is felt to rise in its own
strength.2 This is seen in Taddeo Gaddi, in the Florence Academy,
where the Ascension appears, as not unfrequently, above the
Entombment (see etching, p. 246), in Niccolo di Pietro in his often-
quoted series in the chapter-house of S. Francesco at Pisa ; and in
Buffalmacco, engraved by Rosini, who have all given the highest
character of grandeur and awe to the subject. The Lord is rising
straight and full front, like a monumental effigjr, sometimes with
the banner of victory in one hand, and blessing with the other ;
or with a palm-branch — the sign of martyrdom — in the right
hand ; or with a crown on His head and a sceptre in His hand.
This latter version, of which Niccolo di Pietro gives an instance,
is rare. It may be ascribed to the royal idea in Micah, ' of the
king going before ; ' or, perhaps, more particularly, to a state-
ment by S. Buenaventura, that l the Lord was triumphantly borne
into heaven, crowned and attired like a king.' Instances occur
of the omission of the Virgin from the place not assigned to
her by Scripture, though not improbable as a fact ; also instances
where all the Maries are present with her. But no master,
as far as we know, ventured on the fine action of Giotto,
which links his fresco with the grand sentiment of the early
times.
Perngino has left a magnificent picture, in point of Art, of the
subject. It was painted in 1495, for the high altar of S. Pietro
Maggiore, at Perugia, was presented by Pope Pius VII. to the
city of Lyons, and is now the chief attraction of the public
museum there. Here, by a change of conception — which substitutes
a lingering earthly sentiment for the impatient foretaste of heavenly
bliss — the sublimity of the upper part of the picture is greatly
1 S. Buonaventura, 'Vita Christi,' p. 416.
2 In later days, when tradition and feeling were alike lost, the angels have been repre-
sented as carrying the Lord in their own hands — the same also in the Resurrection.
This is a manifest impropriety, on which Zani is very indignant (vol. ix. p. 82).
yons.
THE ASCENSION. 311
sacrificed. Our Lord, surrounded by a mandorla, Or almond-shaped
glory, is occupied only with those He leaves, blessing them with
one hand, and directing their attention to heaven by pointing
upward with the forefinger of the other. The mandorla is composed
of winged cherub heads, on one of which, to all appearance a
tender infant's skull, the Saviour's left foot most inappropriately
rests. And thus supported, He stands perfectly still, like a mere
tableau suspended for the sight of those below. Two angels on each
side, playing on musical instruments, stand also formally on little
platforms of clouds, equally as motionless, the flutter of their
drapery, and of the Lord's, being caused by no wind but that which
always blows at the command of Peruginesque convention. The
interest lies with the group below, where the characters are grandly
individual. The Virgin stands in the centre, young and exquisitely
graceful, her upcast foreshortened head a beau ideal of spiritual
beauty. Sr. Peter, with keys in hand, on one side, is gazing with
all his might on his Lord above ; St. Paul on the other side, a
majestic figure with sword and book, one of the finest conceptions
of the Apostle, stands looking away, wrapt in thought, like one who
views the scene abstractedly through the grace of subsequent con-
version. His presence here shows that no historical conception
was meant, and that it is rather the Church in f the glorious com-
pany of the Apostles,' thus witnessing the setting forth of a great
article of faith. This view is confirmed by the number of figures,
which include the Apostle Matthias, not chosen at the time of the
Ascension, and who, with St. Paul, makes thirteen in number.
Conspicuous amongst them is St. John, not the sweet and graceful
youth, with almost feminine feeling, but a grand young man with
a resolute character of countenance. St. Bartholomew is a grave,
bearded man, thinking profoundly while he gazes from under his
eyebrows; while St. Thomas, over-true to his name as Didymus,
6 double or doubtful,' stands looking full at the spectator with an
expression as if he mistrusted the evidence of his eyes. We give
an etching.
Raphael's design for the Ascension — executed as one of the
series of tapestries — is also not impressive in the upper part. The
Saviour soars full front, with outstretched arms and upraised eyes
and head, yet with a leisurely consciousness of being 'en evidence'
312 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
to those below. In the group of the Apostles there is more reality.
They are no merely dignified figures, calmly watching their vanish-
ing Lord, but men struck with sudden consternation, thrown on
their knees, with outstretched hands and open mouths, their empty
centre showing how suddenly He has been taken from them. Here
the Virgin's figure is absent.
The Ascension is the subject which generally occupies the prin-
cipal cupola of a Greek church. The figure of the Saviour is placed
in the highest centre, and gains a retiring effect from the perspective
of the building. He is represented, according to the ' Guide de la
Peinture Grecque,' seated upon clouds, and welcomed by angels
with musical instruments. The Virgin standing exactly below,
with the angels dressed in white on each side of her, is a feature
proper to the Greek Church.
The subject of the Ascension was also applied by Correggio to
the same vaulted form, as in his well-known decoration of the
cupola of the Church of S. Giovanni at Parma. This representa-
tion, though subversive of all traditional laws and Scriptural
proprieties, has a consistency with itself, which renders it, all
perishing and dropping as it is, only second in fascination to the
Assumption of the Virgin in the cathedral close by. There is no
resisting the boisterous delight of these little wingless urchin
angels, swimming in air and light, peeping round clouds, or riding
upon them, and chasing each other like troublesome kittens, into
the very laps of grave Apostles. Not even the graver and more
draped figures of the Evangelists and Fathers of the Church, two
and two, all intent on their -books, in the angles below, can give
any colour of seriousness to the gambolling ' angioletti ' playing
hide-and-seek in the clouds that uphold them — the very acolytes
that support the Gospel books looking wistfully round, as if longing
to doff their little surplices and join in the game. In such a repre-
sentation as this, ' religious Art ' is forgotten altogether, and we
can readily forgive a master who even under the title of the Ascen-
sion gives us an enchanting burlesque which does not suggest one
thought of Scripture. Better this than the systematic perversion
of it by other hands which affect the essential truths of our faith —
in which respect Correggio, as we have had occasion to observe, is
refreshingly blameless.
THE ASCENSION. 313
In thus giving to the subject of the Ascension «the various forms
natural to different periods and minds, Art has also retained the
impress of a superstition which obtained in the scholastic times,
and even still attracts the devotion of the pilgrim. In addition to
the many holy places in Jerusalem, which to this day are matters
of ardent controversy, the very spot on the Mount of Olives whence
our Lord ascended was pointed out. There was no difficulty in this,
for the prints of His sacred feet were asserted to have been left, and
though pilgrims flocked daily to the place, each carrying off some of
the very ground which had received the impression, yet no change
ever took place in the form of the prints, which were miraculously
renewed as fast as they were destroyed. Even when the Empress
Helena built a church over the spot, in honour of the Agony in the
Garden — not knowing, it must be concluded, of the existence of
these sacred vestiges — the very paving-stones with which they un-
consciously covered them were thrown into the workmen's faces as
fast as they attempted to place them. Finally, a church was con-
structed around these precious memorials, with a circular opening in
the roof above them, through which, by a reversal of dates, which
does not seem to disturb the pilgrim's faith, the body of our Lord is
supposed to have ascended. Of this church Art takes no account,
but she retains the record of the footprints in the ' Speculum Sal-
vationis,' and other religious illustrated works, both in the Italian
and German forms of the 14th and 15th centuries.
VOL. II. S 9
314 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS.
THE simple combination of lines which constitutes the form of a
cross was used as a heathen symbol before the period of Christian ity.
It is found on Egyptian coins of the Ptolemies and on Indian as
well as Egyptian monuments. On the taking of the Temple of
Serapis, at Alexandria, by Theodosius, in 395, the existence of this
sign on various portions was pleaded by the Egyptian priests as an
argument against the destruction of the edifice. Whether this cross
may be looked upon as a mystic prefiguration of the great siga of
Christianity, or whether merely as a fortuitous coincidence, owing
to a simplicity of form which may have had more than one inde-
pendent origin, it is not our purpose to inquire. As a heathen
emblem, it had various and very heterogeneous meanings, but
among them, it may be observed, that of Eternal Life.
The question is, how early the Christian sign began to be used,
and of what form that sign consisted. There seems no doubt that
the cross was honoured by the Christians as an emblem of faith
and a sign of a Christian profession in the earliest times, and
possibly in the times of the Apostles. The earliest Christian
writers, Justin Martyr (martyred A.D. 162) and Tertullian, treat
much of the cross. The Apology by the former is a defence of the
Christians, who were accused by the heathen as being worshippers
of the cross in the sense of an idol. Both writers rise into
fanciful imagery in its vindication, piously tracing its form in
the shape of a man with his arms extended in prayer (the
antique gesture), in that of a bird flying, of a ship sailing, and
of other common objects in Nature and Art. The Cross was also
held to be all-powerful against demons. It was the sign of re-
cognition (it is supposed as the gesture of one crossing himself)
between Christians, while its use in baptism loses itself in Christian
antiquity.
It is, indeed, admitted by all writers on Christian antiquity,
that the cross, under whatever conditions — whether in what the
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 315
learned denominate the permanent form of the sign, or .the
transient figure of the gesture, was from the earliest ages in vogue
among Christians. Chrysostom, in the 4th century, no longer
traces it like Tertullian in fanciful comparisons, but describes it in
actual usage as seen everywhere held in honour, ' in the private
house and the public market-place, in the desert, in the highway,
on mountains, in forests, on hills, on the sea, in ships, on islands,
on our beds and on our clothes, on our arms, in our chambers, in
our banquets, on gold and silver vessels, on gems, in the paintings
of our walls, on the bodies of diseased beasts, on human bodies pos-
sessed by devils, in war and peace, by day, by night, in the dances
of the feasting, and the meetings of the fasting and praying.' l
That this was true in some sense, there can be no question, but, at
the same time, it must be owned, that ancient objects of Art, as far
as hitherto known, afford no corroboration of the use of the cross in
the simple transverse form familiar to us, at any period preceding
or even closely succeeding the words of St. Chrysostoin. But if the
simple cross be not found in any relics of Art, there is no doubt, on
the other hand, that another form of it exists on objects coeval with
Chrysostom, and that in .such abundance as to infer the truth of the
fullest meaning of his words. This is, namely, the so-called mono-
gram of Christ, in the more or less complex tracery of which the
cross, if not actually seen, is at least indicated. This monogram is
composed of two Greek letters, the X or Ch and P or
11, which l>y a usual Greek abbreviation formed one
composite letter out of the first consonants of the name
of Christ, and was adopted evidently in familiar house-
hold usage by Christians alike of the East or West.
There is no doubt, also, that this monogram was vene-
rated, not only as containing the name of Christ, but as affording to
the eye of faith the materials in some sort for the sign of the cross.
It is found, namely, on innumerable monumental stones on the
front of Christian sarcophagi, on bronze lamps, and at the bottom
of glass vessels, some of which have been believed to have con-
tained the Eucharistic wine, while others, from their inscriptions,
are known to have served for convivial purposes. While, at all
events, the monogram of Christ abounds in every collection of early
1 Milman's ' History of Christianity,' vol. iii. p. 497.
316 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Christian relics, it would be difficult to find as early a specimen of
the cross in its simplicity as now familiar to us. Some writers on
Christian Art 1 have pleaded the early existence of the simple form
of the cross from the fact that the Christians marked their bread
with a cross, and have thence rather hastily concluded that they im-
printed this sign on other objects in daily use. The evidence that
they thus crossed their bread is gathered from those bas-reliefs on
Christian sarcophagi, where, in the miracle of the Loaves and
Fishes, our Lord is represented as blessing baskets of
bread all inscribed as in our illustration (No. 233). But
the force of this argument has been entirely neutralised
by discoveries made since the date of these writers, for
among the household objects found in Pompeii are loaves
of bread of the same circular shape, and inscribed with exactly the
same cruciform lines. This was, in short, the baker's mark, doubt-
less of great antiquity, and showing analogy with ancient Egyptian
bread, which is marked with four equidistant notches. Thus the
sign at all events was common as regards bread, both to Gentile
and Christian, and in no way distinctive of the mysterious emblem
of our faith.
It would be difficult, even, to prove that the Cross of Constantine
was of the simple construction as now understood. It was in A.D.
311 that the supposed vision of a luminous cross appeared to this
emperor in the sky, accompanied by the words, 4 In hoc signo
vinces ' (f in this sign thou shalt conquer '). But no description
determines the exact form in which this supposed vision appeared.
Neither is it said what species of cross it was
which Constantine erected, resplendent with
jewels, on the palace at Byzantium, or placed
aloft on the sacred banner, or ' Labarum,' which
preceded his armies in all engagements, or
which he inscribed on the shields of his soldiers.
As regards the Labarum, however, the coins of
the time in which it is especially set forth, prove
(4th centur™) that the so-called cross upon it was nothing else
than the same ever-recurring monogram of Christ. We give an
illustration (No. 234) from a coin of the time of Constantine. The
1 Bosio. Arringhi, &c.
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 317
coins of this subject are many and various in size, yet in no single
instance does the simple cross appear. Nor, in the matter of the
soldiers' shield, has Art left us without testimony, for in the
early mosaics at Ravenna which represent the Emperor Justinian
and Empress Theodora, the body-guard attending them are seen
with their shields inscribed, not with the cross, according to our
idea, but with the monogram.1
Granting, therefore, that the simple form of the cross existed, if
at all, too rarely at this age to have left any trace behind, we may
venture next to seek a cause for this peculiarity. And here the
same cause suggests itself, which is admitted to account for the
absence of the crucifix, or the figure of our Lord upon the Cross,
for a far longer period. For early Christian Art, such as it appears
in the bas-reliefs on sarcophagi, gave but one solitary incident from
the story of our Lord's Passion, and that, as we have had repeated
occasion to remark, utterly divested of all circumstances of suffer-
ing. Our Lord is represented as young and beautiful, free from
bonds, with no ' accursed tree ' on His shoulder ; while the other
subjects selected were such as were calculated to comfort rather
than depress the infant .faith. The first Christians needed the signs
of their Redeemer's love and power as God, given in the healing
the sick, and the raising of the dead, and not of His sufferings as
man, the ignominy and horror of which were still in full practice
as the worst of punishments. And if this feeling, as is supposed,
led to the avoidance of all representation of the Crucifixion, why
should it not also have, in a certain measure, forbidden that of the
simpler form of the Cross, thus leading them to take refuge in the
more covert way which the monogram afforded of expressing the
sign of their faith? Assuming, therefore, a natural repugnance on
the part of the Christians, we must remember, in addition, that the
form of this instrument of punishment inspired a deeper and an
unmitigated horror on the part of the Romans. Cicero (died forty-
one years before Christ) says that ( the very name of the cross was
1 It appears that the archaeologists — if there were such — in Rubens' time, had come
to the same conclusion, for in his series of the History of Constantino as connected
with the apparition of the Cross — formerly in the Orleans Gallery, and engraved in
the work of the Palais Royal, vol. ii. — the vision is represented in the full form of the
monogram.
318
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
banished from the thoughts, eyes, and ears of a Roman citizen.'
Thus the early Christians had a twofold motive for abstaining from
an ominous combination of lines which certainly irritated their
enemies arid possibly depressed themselves. Nor does there seem
any doubt that the form of the cross continued to inspire the same
odium with the great body of Roman converts who followed the
example of Constantine, not only, until the abolition of the punish-
ment of crucifixion by that emperor, but for a considerable time
after. For it naturally required an interregnum of generations ere
the old ideas connected with the ' arbor infelix' gave way before its
new and glorious meaning. Accordingly, it is not till the middle
of the 5th century, more than a hundred years after the cessation
of death by crucifixion, that the pure form of the cross emerges to
sight, no longer the sign of a horrible death, but of the Divine
Triumph over all Death.
Returning, therefore, to the evidence of that form of Art which
exists in greatest abundance, namely, coins, we find
the first appearance of the simple cross in the dig-
nified form given in our illustration (No. 235) in a
coin issued by Galla Placidia (died 451). And it
emerges to view during the same period on large
monuments of Art, the first instance of which,
that can be authenticated, is found occupying the
•235 First Coin with centre of the mosaic decorations on the roof of the
) Chapel of Galla Placidia, in Ravenna, erected
about 440. By this time fresh Christian ideas had clustered round
it, for it is guarded at the four angles by the signs of the Evan-
gelists, probably their first appearance also on
the scene of Christian Art.
About a century later, it appears in the Church
of S. Vitale, at Ravenna, equally simple in form,
though different in its proportions, representing
the i Scutum Fidei,' or shield of faith, encircled
in a wreath of laurel, and upheld by angels.
Later still we see it in the same city, in the
Church of S. Apollinare in Classe, surrounded
with stars, and encircled with a wreath of gems.
At the same time, it is interesting to remark
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 319
the gradual changes in the old form of the monogram of Christ,
which still lingers in view, though no longer seen in
its integrity. For some time the X or Ch is alone
retained, as seen between two peacocks on one of the
sarcophagi in Galla Placidia's Chapel. Or the P or R
is seen adhering to the firmer forms of the real Cross,
with the Alpha and the Omega dependent from it, as
in our illustration (No. 236), from a tomb in the Church
of S. Apollinare in Classe, at Ravenna. Or even a
new idea springs up, and the Cross of Life stands
supreme upon the globe of the world, as in woodcut
(No. 237), taken from a font in the Church of S. 23~
Apollinare Nuovo, in the same ancient city.
It would seem that a cross studded with jewels, and associated
with some form, actual or symbolical, of the Redeemer, held its
place for some time. We give an illustration of an object of this
class, surmounted by the head of Christ within a horseshoe form
(woodcut, No. 238, next page). This is taken from an Evangeliarium
in the Munich Library, believed to have been executed in the 6th
century. Here the pendent Alpha and Omega of early Ravenna
usage are still seen, while the two birds perpetuate in some sort
the meaning of the two peacocks to which we have alluded. Even
in the slight hooked forms at the end of each limb of the cross may
be seen the expiring vestiges of the P of the monogram. The
writing in the centre, omitted in our woodcut, records, by an
exceptional example, the name of the calligraphist. With this
cross is probably coincident in time one richly gemmed (often
engraved) upon a sarcophagus in the Catacombs, which is sur-
mounted by the monogram in a circle, and adored by six Apostles
on each side.
The 7th century shows us still the jewelled cross, ornamented with
pendent gems in lieu of the Alpha and Omega. Several crosses of
the kind are connected by gold chains with the gold crowns dis-
covered near Toledo, and now exhibited in the Cluny Museum. A
fringe of gold letters round the principal crowns shows these objects
to be of the time of the Gothic king Reccesinthus, 649-672.
Still we have not yet arrived at the simple and abstract intention
of the sign as it is now regarded. For, in examining the various
320
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Cross. (MS., 6th century. Library, Munich.)
crosses just illustrated, it is impossible not to be struck with the
fact that they are meant to symbolise the Redeemer, rather than to
signify the Christian faith. In the same sense as the Vine or the
Rock, the Lamb or the Pelican, do they personate Him, not the faith
in Him.4 In some instances, the Cross is directly put in His stead,
in an historical as well as abstract sense. This is obvious, from the
accessories around it, as in the case of the above-mentioned cross,
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 321
encircled with a wreath of jewels, in the Church of S. Apollinare in
Classe, in Ravenna. Here the hand of the Father above, the figures
of Moses and Elijah at each side, and the disciples as three sheep
below, show that the scene is meant to represent the Transfiguration,
and the Cross itself the Saviour. (See description of Transfiguration,
vol. i. p. 340.)
At the same time, the cross, as a mere sign, does appear ; but
always in a subordinate sense, being borne in the hand of our Lord,
or of a disciple, as an attribute. These are invariably simple,
however slightly various, in form. Thus our Lord stands on the
holy Hill, with the four streams of Paradise issuing from His
feet, holding a cross, or a disciple (for there is nothing to prove
that the figure is meant, as usually stated, for that of St. Peter)
bows before Him with a scroll in one hand and a similar cross in the
other.
It would be beyond the limits of this work to enter further into
detail on this subject. By the 6th century, we see the cross
approaching nearer still to the conditions of the crucifix. This is
observable of a pectoral cross — so called from being worn on the
breast of ecclesiastical and royal personages — which, according to an
ancient inscription on it, was presented by the Emperor Justin
(elected emperor 519) to the Pope of that period, Gregory II. Here
the Agnus Dei, the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world,
stands in the centre, with the bust-length figure of our Lord in the
act of benediction, occupying the upper end. Below is a figure
believed to be John the Baptist, while with a profane presumption
which only the abject exaltation of the Eastern emperors can account
for, the figures of Justin and his wife, Flavia Eufemia, are placed
at the transverse ends. From this cross to the actual crucifix there
appears but a short step.
Meanwhile larger varieties of the simple sign gradually diversify
the hemisphere of Art, distinguished as attributes of different sacred
or ecclesiastical personages — as derived from different causes, or as
belonging to different countries. We add a few specimens of the
principal varieties.
The cross here given (No. 239) is derived from the Tau, or Hebrew
letter T. This takes its origin from a passage in Ezekiel ix. 4 : c And
the Lord said unto him, Go through the midst of Jerusalem, and set
VOL. II. T T
322 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
239
a mark upon the foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry for all
the abominations that be done in the midst thereof.' This mark was
interpreted as the Tan by the
Jewish converts to Christianity,
who gladly persuaded themselves
that a prefiguration of the Cross
had been thus mystically given in
the Old Testament. This fanciful
interpretation is not allowed by 240
Protestant commentators, but it
held its place in mediaeval Art. In the subject of the Elevation of
the Brazen Serpent in the Wilderness, as a common type of the
Crucifixion — in the ' Biblia Pauperum,' and in other devotional
illustrated books of the 14th and 15th centuries — the Tau Cross is
generally represented.
Our next illustration, No. 240, represents what is popularly
called the Greek Cross, but the name has no foundation whatever
in fact. The form is very ancient ; it appears within the circular
crown held by angels, in the Church of S. Vitale, at Ravenna,
mentioned p. 318, called the Scutum Fidei, and its equilateral
character is probably owing to the circumscribing conditions of
this circle. It is also seen, for the same reason, on coins and
in the centre of ancient crosses. The trtie Greek Cross appears
farther on.
Our woodcut No. 241 represents what is
generally understood by the Sign of the
Cross, being the form in which this sacred
1 ' idea most abounds. Here it appears under
its more especial intention as the Latin Cross,
which is the usual form adopted in the
Western or Catholic Church. It is also called
the Cross of the Passion, being that which
Christ usually carries on the way to Calvary.
It further symbolises the rank of a bishop, 242
as distinguished from that of an archbishop, and is called the
Episcopal Cross.
Woodcut No. 242 represents a small long cross, which is seen in
early works in the hand of our Lord as Second Person of the Trinity,
241
THE SIGN OF THE CROSS.
323
243
and which is also borne by Him as a. kind of sceptre when engaged
in the creation of the world. This is also frequent in the fore-foot
of the Agnus Dei, as will be seen in our illustration from a capital
of S. Ambrogio, at Milan (p. 336, No. 256).
[j Woodcut No. 243 shows what is termed
^^ the Cross of the Resurrection. This is the
triumphal banner, sometimes greatly ampli-
fied in form, and appended to a small and
delicate cross with which our Lord is seen
rising from the tomb, and also descending
into Limbus.
The Cross of the Baptist (woodcut, No. 244).
This is also delicate and small, and is usually
represented as made of reed. The banner or 244
scroll is always inscribed, ' Ecce Agnus Dei. '
The Patriarchal Cross, or the Cross of the Holy
Sepulchre (woodcut, No. 245). This is properly
speaking the Greek Cross, and is supposed to have
been brought from the East by the
Crusaders. It is also called the
Archbishop's Cross, and is further
known by the name of the Cross of
Lorraine. The second transverse
line is supposed to represent the
form of the inscription placed above
our Saviour's head, I. N. R. I.
The Papal Cross (woodcut, No.
246), with three transverse bars, is
distinguished from the Archbishop's
Cross, or from the simple cross carried by a bishop, by its three
transverse bars, which typify the triple tiara.
This woodcut (No. 247) represents the
Greek X or Ch, being the first letters
of Christ's name. In mediaeval times
it was chiefly identified as the Cross
of St. Andrew — the Apostle being be-
247 lieved to have been crucified on a cross
of this form. 248
245
246
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The Cross in Jerusalem (woodcut, No. 248). This is borne on
armorial bearings as a token of a Crusader.
Woodcut No. 249 shows the Irish Cross, or Cross
of lona.
Woodcut No. 250 is the Pectoral Cross, which
often contained a relic, and was worn
on the breast of emperors, ecclesias-
tics, &c.
Further and numberless varieties
will be found on the coins of differ-
ent countries, on armorial shields, on
orders, &c. Last, though not least,
the study of ecclesiastical architec-
ture and decorations will show the cross in endless applications —
from the ancient ground-plan of the edifice to the comparatively
modern tin plate pricked with holes in the shape of across, against
which the priest leans his ear to receive the confession of the
Faithful
THE CRUCIFIX. 325
THE CRUCIFIX.
THE crucifix succeeded the cross in the chronology of sacred Art,
and, we have reason to believe, preceded the Crucifixion ; each
forming a stage in the development of the same idea, and each over-
lapping the other in the attempt to anticipate the next step. Thus
the cross, as we have shown, was, by the aid of accessories, made to
symbolise the Person of the Redeemer; and the crucifix, as we shall
see, by the same process, conveyed something of the fulness and
scenery of the Crucifixion. Strictly speaking, however, the crucifix
is to be regarded only in the light of a symbol, setting forth the
Great Sacrifice foreshadowed in the Old Testament, and accomplished
in the New ; and figuratively, still more than actually, representing
the Person of* Christ crucified.' Like the cross, therefore, it is an
abstract image, and in no way to be regarded in the sense of that
historical event which has been fully treated in the subject of our
Lord's Passion.
Writers on these subjects have alluded to an intermediate crucifi-
cial form, between the cross and the crucifix. This is described1 as
the figure of our Lord on the Cross, clothed, not nailed, and with
His hands uplifted in prayer. For such an invention as this, we
need hardly say there is no justification, either in Scripture or feel-
ing. But its existence may be doubted. No example that we are
aware of is extant, nor do these writers, who copy such assertions
unquestioning one from the other, give a single instance. If such
have ever been, they may possibly have derived their origin from a
Gnostic heresy, that a phantom took its place on the Cross in the
stead of Christ. And there are some early examples of the Crucifix
which so far approximate to this idea as to divest our Lord of all
gigns of suffering. He stands there alive, with body upright and
arms extended straight, with no nails, no wounds, no crown of
thorns — frequently clothed, and with a regal crown— a God, young
and beautiful, hanging without compulsion or pain — the perfect idea
1 Miinter's Sinu Inkier.
326 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
of the voluntary sacrifice. This form of conception, of which we
shall speak further, was doubtless attributable to the reverence of
those who first approached this subject, by whom the sense of the
divine triumph was made to predominate above that of the human
death. It may also be partly owing to that principle in classic
Art which disguised a subject of terror under some analogous
but mitigated form. 'Thus, in the great fresco by Polygnotus, a
Delphi, the unhappy Phaedra, who had hung herself, was pictured
seated in a swing.
The first notices of the existence of a crucifix — and by this term
we mean a portable cross, bearing the figure indicated either flatly,
as by painting or incising, or in semi-relief, or in the round, upon
it — the first notices are quoted by most writers from the works of
St. Gregory of Nyssa, Bishop of Tours, A.D. 574. The words of
the ancient prelate would fail, however, to convince most modern
archasologists that a crucifix in &i\y sense now accepted was meant,
while their possibly real meaning is beyond all conjecture.
Neither can we be certain, knowing how great a difference there
may exist to the eye between objects of apparent similitude in
description, that the injunctions of the often-quoted Council — called
the Quini-sextum, or 'in Trullo' (a domed building) — had reference
to the actual crucifix. This was a council held by Greek bishops, A.D.
692, who express themselves to the effect that it is high time that
the types of the old Law should yield, * even in painting,' to that
which shows the fulfilment of the promises. l We therefore order
that in the stead of the ancient Lamb (the Agnus Dei), Jesus Christ
our Lord shall be shown henceforth in His human form, in the
images — He being the Lamb which bears the iniquity of the world.
In this way, without forgetting the height whence the Divine
Word abased itself, we shall be led to the memory of His mortal
life, of His sufferings, and of His death which paid the ransom of
mankind.'
To those unaccustomed to see any direct representation of our
Lord at all, except in scarce instances, widely separated in localit)',
such as the mosaics of ancient churches, i any image ' of Him might
be said to recall His life, His sufferings, and His atonement. Con-
sidering also the absence of all allusion to the cross, on which the
human figure of Christ was to be sh6wn, the words of this edict must
THE CRUCIFIX. 327
be considered as not necessarily bearing the interpretation generally
given to them.
In like manner we obtain from ancient writers no precise defini-
tion of the images of Christ proscribed by Leo the Isaurian, in the
middle of the 8th century, the destruction of which led to the great
schism, now more apparent in Art than in doctrine, between the
Greek and Roman Churches. In that fierce inquisition, not even
the lonely cell of the anchorite escaped the fury of the iconoclast ;
and a story is told of an old hermit who, on being deprived of an
image of Christ which had beguiled his solitude, exclaimed in sorrow,
1 You have taken away my God I ' This is usually cited as an evi-
dence that the image of which he was bereft was nothing less than
that expressed under the term of a crucifix. Were a painter to
represent this incident, he would wisely have no scruple in thus
personifying the old man's God. But history has no latitude
beyond that given by the nearest possible approach to the truth ; and
having seen the great difference between ancient and modern ideas,
regarding the cross of Constantine's vision, it would be rash, in
the total absence of all evidence on the part of Art, to identify the
positive figure of our Lord crucified on the Cross with the ' images '
thus remotely described. Until, therefore, Art discloses some
unmistakable and long-hidden relic, all that can be said is, that
the history of the crucifix commences in obscurity. When, also,
the sacred symbol emerges to our view, the dates are too uncertain
for us to venture to define them. But without attempting to lay
down positive rules, it may be said that the early crucifix is gene-
rally a richly storied and composite object; the figure in the centre
being surrounded by all that can enrich the idea, and that the
narrow space can be made to contain. The transverse ends beyond
the hands of the figure are occupied with bust-length figures of the
Virgin and St. John, or of the Sun and Moon weeping and hiding
their faces ; and at the upper end, over the head of the Lord, is the
hand of the Father, holding a wreath, or blessing — or the sun and
moon, in their natural shapes as disk and crescent, are inserted, or
even the pliable forms of angels are fitted in ; while below, the
serpent and the scull appear at the foot of the Cross. Frequently,
too, all these are superseded by the attributes of the four Evangelists,
at the four ends. Thus, the early crucifix forestalls many of those
328
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
incidents which are strictly proper to the expanded dimensions of
the Crucifixion, and which have been considered more at length
under that head. It is usually asserted that the earliest crucifixes
represent our Lord as alive, but our researches do not corroborate
this idea.
251
Early Pectoral Crucifix.
We give an illustration of a crucifix described and engraved by
Cardinal Borgia,1 which has the stamp of great antiquity (wood-
cut, No. 251). This was evidently a pectoral cross, from its shape.
The Christ is clothed to the feet in a robe that is intended to be
honourable in character. He is dead, with His eyes closed, and His
head inclined. Sun and moon as disk and crescent are above. Here
the Virgin and St. John, at the transverse ends, are rude signs
rather than figures. Nevertheless, they serve to represent the in-
auguration, as it were, of that group which, whether as an accessory
in the crucifix or as an historical adjunct to the Crucifixion, is
universally seen. Here, too, the direct historical sense in which the
crucifix encroaches on the Crucifixion is evident in the inscription —
1 Borgia de Cruce Vaticana.
THE CRUCIFIX.
329
that traditional refuge of Greek Art — under each arm of our Lord :
under the right, < Behold thy son ; ' under the left, < Behold thy
mother.' This is the meaning, therefore, which must be borne in mind
wherever we see those stereotyped figures of the Mother and the
beloved disciple on each side of the Cross, even when our Lord, as
in this case, is seen already dead.
Cross of Lothario. (9th century.)
A crucifix in the Treasury of Aix-la-Chapelle, of which the date
is supposed to be certain, is another specimen of the earliest known
kind where the Christ is represented as dead. This is a richty
jewelled object, called the Cross of Lothario1 (son of Charlemagne —
1 The untrustworthiness, however, of a traditional name, even in such a treasury as that
VOL. II. U U
330
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
died 855). Here, in addition to the Christ being dead, and not
fully draped, as we see by our woodcut (No. 252), the figure is
sunk and swayed, and the head fallen ; as in the worst art of the 14th
century, while all four wounds are given, and seen bleeding.1 The
hand of the Father, holding the wreath with the bird in it, shows
the symbolic idea of the Trinity. These figures are all incised on a
silver-gilt ground.
253
Hohenlohe Siegmariugeu Crucifix.
A figure singularly opposed in character to that we have illustrated
(it would be difficult to assign a date) exists on a crucifix formerly
belonging to the family of Hohenlohe Siegmaringen, and, in 1862, in
the Archiepiscopal Museum at Cologne.2 This fulfils that idea of
of the ancient cathedral at Aix-la-Chapelle, is proved by another object in the same
place, viz., the crown of Mary Queen of Scots, so called there for centuries, and which
has nothing to do with that princess, even in date.
1 Melanges Archeologiques, vol. i.
? We are sorry to add, that this so-called Archiepiscopal Museum is not meant for the
THE CRUCIFIX. 331
the voluntary, and, therefore, to the eye, the apparently painless
sacrifice, which early Art, in other portions of our Lord's history,
especially embodies. The Lord is young, alive, and upright, with
no wounds, no nails, no footboard, and no signs of suffering, while
the simple and beautiful drapery invests the figure with an
expression of innocence and even gladness. The cross on which
the figure thus buoyantly hangs has been laid upon a larger
and perhaps later bronze-gilt cross, on which are seen, incisea
at the transverse ends, the effigies of the Sun and Moon with
torches, while above appears the right hand of the Father —
6 Dextera Dei.'
But early crucifixes developed even greater resources than most
early Crucifixions, for back as well as front was turned to account.
Here appear the types of the Old Covenant, appropriately occupying
the reversed side to the great Alpha and Omega, in which all types
meet. On the pectoral crucifix first described (see woodcut, No. 251),
the reverse is filled, not by the types, but by the Bride of Christ.
For it is impossible to examine this figure with feminine drapery, yet
with head uncovered (for the veil of the Temple was rent), with arms
upraised, the antique position of praise, and not feel that it is the
Church who thus stands in the centre, and not, as some have supposed,
the Virgin Mary. In the heads of the Evangelists, also, each with his
gospel, through which the Church of Christ imparts all true doctrine,
is seen further evidence. It would be contrary also to the first prin-
ciples of Christian Art that the Madonna, who occupies the end of the
Cross next to Christ's right hand on the other side, should be seen
again on the same object standing in the centre. The fact that the
Church is here intended is further proved by the unmistakable figure
with the letters forming the word ' Ecclesia' round it, on the back of
the Hohenlohe Siegmaringen cross (woodcut, No. 254). The Church
here sits enthroned on the centre, back to back to her great Head,
holding the chalice in the right hand and the banner in the left,
according to the form of conception which, as classic influences died
out, superseded the antique figure. Around her appear the types,
peculiarly yet grandly given. Above, Melchisedec, after whose Order
desirable preservation of objects of Art in the ancient city of Cologne, but is. only used as
a place of sale. The very beautiful crucifixes from which we took our illustrations, Nos
253 and 254, have been sold, and their whereabouts is no longer known.
332
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Back of Hohenlohe Siegmaringen Crucifix.
Christ was a priest for ever, holding forth the Euchamtical sacrifices
of which the bread and wine offered to Abraham were the foreshadow-
ings. On the left hand of the Church is Abel with the firstling of the
THE CRUCIFIX. 333
flock, and on the right, Cain with the fruit of the earth. Below,
Abraham with an enormous knife in his right hand and a dim-
inutive Isaac in his arms, and lower still the ram caught in what
is intended to represent the thicket. The ornaments on this cross
pronounce it to be of the 12th century.
The custom of adorning the back of the crucifix with appropri-
ate subjects continued into the 14th century. Ciampini gives the
back of a crucifix,1 in which Adam and Eve, under the fatal tree,
occupy most appropriately the centre, while around are the typical
events from the lives of Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph.
Meanwhile the simple crucifix appears in the scene of Art, whether
before the llth century it would be difficult to say, but it is believed
by that time. In these the figure is usually crowned, which, com-
bined with its isolation from all accessories, gives it peculiar grandeur.
The feature of the crown may be supposed to need no explanation,
for it is obvious that those who aimed at the idea of the victory
rather than the sacrifice, would choose the fittest insignia for the
King of Glory. But a special origin for these crowned crucifixes,
which are frequent, may be found in a passage in the hymn of the
Vexilla Regis, composed in the 12th century : —
Impleta sunt quse concinit
David fideli carmine,
Dicendo nationibus :
Eegnavit a ligno Deus.
We take this illustration (No. 255, next page) from a very
remarkable crucifix in the possession of the Hon. Robert Curzon.
This is unique in its severe rectangular forms, in the resolute straight-
ness of head and person, and in the completeness and gorgeousness
of the robe.2 The hand of the Father above is the only accessory ;
the back of the single crucifix here ceases to be ornamented. This
crucifix is executed in Limoges enamel.
1 Vol. ii. tab. xi.
2 In all cases where the human figure is covered in preference to being shown, a certain
motive may be allowed for in the inability of the artist, or the rigidity of his material.
Any drapery is easier than the figure : this is especially seen in the instance of enamels,
the unpliable nature of the colours of which lent themselves better to the representation
of the most gorgeous robe than to the peculiar surface of the human body.
334
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
255
Enamel Crucifix. (Hon. R. Curzon.)
Much more might be said on the subject of the crucifix, if the cross
and the Crucifixion had not been treated before. In the limited sphere
of this work we have only attempted to give those characteristics
which belong to the crucifix itself. As Art matured, its outline will
be found to correspond with that of the cross, and the figure of our
Lord with that of the Crucifixion most in vogue at the same period.
CHRIST AS THE LAMB. 335
CHRIST AS THE LAMB.
THE LAMB without blemish — the -Paschal Lamb — the Lamb of God
that taketh away sin — the Lamb slain from the foundation of the
world — all these Scriptural allusions to the spotless nature and to
the sacrifice of Christ were, from the earliest period of Christianity,
embodied by Art under the form of a larnb, a sheep, or a ram.
The Church added her authority — as she still does in the liturgy —
to this sacred definition : < 0 Lamb of God, that takest away the
sins of the world, have mercy upon us.'
Although the innocent animal given in Art is under every cir-
cumstance to be considered as the type of our Lord, and, as such,
is as consistent with itself as is the doctrine, however variously
set forth in Old or New Testament, yet certain distinctions of the
idea are traceable in Art corresponding with the diversities of
time, place, and purpose in the Scriptures. Thus one of the
earliest representations of the Lamb seems to have been intended
not only as a symbol but as an actual substitute for the Person of
Christ — for Art not venturing to depict the body of our Lord on
the Cross, a lamb is mentioned by a bishop of the 4th century,
St. Paulinus of Nola, as seen lying at the foot of the Cross, and
thus setting forth the Crucifixion. Thus, also, the lamb or sheep
seen standing with accessory of cross or banner in the centre of
the domed roof of early churches, with the four Evangelists in the
angles — as, for instance, in the oratory of SS. John the Baptist and
Evangelist, in the baptistery of the Lateran,1 the mosaics of which
were executed in 462 — represents the abstract idea of the Lamb of
God to whom all the Gospels bear witness.
Or the Lamb, in a more allegorical sense, is seen standing on an
eminence whence issue the four streams of Paradise, as in a bas-
relief on the tomb of Gall a Placidia, of the 5th century, at Ravenna.
This is in allusion to the passage in the Revelation : ' And I looked,
1 Ciampini, vol. i. p. 240.
336 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
and, lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Sion' (chap. xiv. 1). In this
instance the cross is behind the animal, with the Alpha and Omega
hung on the transverse beam, thus grouping together three types
of the same divine object.
Or the Lamb is seen lying i as it had been slain ' on a throne,
between the seven candlesticks — resting on the book with the seven
seals, or with the book, below the throne, as in the mosaic of S.
Vitale at Ravenna, executed 547. This is again the apocalyptic
Lamb.
Or if without candlesticks and book, the throne becomes an altar,
and the Lamb the sacrifice of the Eucharist.
A further apocalyptic version sometimes occurs of a very monstrous
kind, setting forth the words where the Lamb is described as having
seven horns and seven eyes, wrhich are the seven spirits of God,
sent unto all the earth. This takes the form of a fabulous-looking
animal with a crest of seven horns along its head, and with seven eyes
on the side of its head, which is generally turned to the spectator.
Again, there is a form more directly indicative of the Crucifixion,
and yet typical, where the animal stands with blood flowing from
each foot and from the wound in the side, typifying the five wounds
of Christ, the blood from the side being caught in a chalice.1
Then there is a form more familiar to us all, in pictures and min-
iatures, in the sculpture of ancient
churches, in painted glass, &c. — as an
animal sometimes with cruciform nim-
bus, holding the Cross with one fore-foot.
We take our woodcut (No. 256) from the
capital of a pillar in the atrium of S.
Ambrogio, Milan. Sometimes the ani-
mal has ram's horns : this is rather the 256
allusion to the sacrifice of Isaac, the type
of the Crucifixion, < when, behold a ram was caught in the thicket,'
Again, there was the Paschal lamb, a little effigy moulded in the
wax of the great Paschal candle, blessed by the Pope and worn by
the Faithful as a kind of amulet against evil, in a heart-shaped
case, round their necks.
1 See plate of the now destroyed mosaics of the Basilica of the Vatican. Ciampini,
vol. iii. p. 42.
CHRIST AS THE LAMB. 337
Finally, we know the Lamb carrying a cross or banner to which
the Baptist points, as he bears it upon the book of the Gospels, or
in a circle — * Behold the Lainb of God' (see vol. i., woodcut No.
112) — and which descending, in the Art of Titian and his contem-
poraries, to the age of perfect Art and little meaning, loses all its
mystic intention, and degenerates into a common sheep lying at
the feet of the Precursor.
Yet all these varieties, however distinct in minuter circumstances,
are each alike the Agnus Dei — the type of Christ — the one identical
idea in which the Scriptures from first to last assert their doctrinal
unity.
In some instances, even the figure of Christ — as in the Art
of the Catacombs — is accompanied by a lamb with a cross on
its head, standing beside Him on the mount, whence issue the
four streams of Paradise. This is as if the type had so taken the
place of the reality, that the human figure had become unintel-
ligible without it. And thus it was in truth ; for so identified, and
in great measure so lost, was the idea of Christ during the first
six centuries in that of a lamb, that there remains indirect though
unmistakeable evidence of the misapprehension to which it led
in ignorant minds, by the prohibition laid on the further use of
the symbol in the Council ' in Trullo,' held at Constantinople in
692, of which we have given an account under chapter ' The
Crucifix,' p. 326.
This was reasonable enough ; but, though the prohibition pro-
bably led to more direct representations of Christ, it certainly failed,
even in the Eastern Church, and far more in the Latin, to banish
the favourite symbol of the Agnus Dei. The distinctions in the
idea, however, vanished in great measure, owing to the decline of
religious Art, and for other reasons, after the 8th century ; and the
symbol became, in the sense of the abstract doctrine, limited to the
figure we have mentioned as most familiar to us — that of a lamb,
with the Cross as if held by the fore-foot.
In the 14th and 15th centuries a new impulse, destined to gain
strength with the growth of the Reformation, was given to the
symbol of the lamb, considered in an historical sense, by the great
development in Art of the subjects from the Apocalypse. The
miniatures of this period, of France and Germany, show the source
VOL. ii. xx
338 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
which inspired, or rather the contemporaneous streams of Art which
flowed side by side with that of the brothers Yan Eyck, whose
mystic Lamb forms the central, culminating, and closing scene of
the religious cycle portrayed in their great picture painted for
St. Bavon, at Ghent. This compartment, called the Adoration of
the Lamb— which is the only portion of the grand work left in the
cathedral church at Ghent — may be considered in some respects as
the highest exposition of all representations of this class, however
marred by the then growing corruptions and inconsistencies of
religious Art. The merit of this picture, which is exquisite in
execution and expression, is the earnest reality of certain portions :
its fault is the incongruous symbolism and convention of others.
Whoever considers the nature of the apocalyptic vision — the first
object of the painter's attention — must feel that the time for types
and shadows is past, and that the accomplishment of all things is
come. Though, therefore, the word ' Lamb ' is used by the Apostle
throughout the Book of Revelation, yet, who does not know that it
is thus used no longer in the sense of a symbol, which is the sub-
stitute, but in that of a name, which is the designation for the pure
and glorified Person of the Son of God? The eye turns, therefore,
coldly away from the image of a lamb placed upon an altar, for the
Lamb standing on an eminence typifying Mount Sion, with sheep
around it, is a true symbol — they are all symbols together, but an
animal elevated in the midst, and worshipped by human beings,
becomes, by the only rightful reading of the eye, an image of the
golden calf, or of any other four-footed object of idolatry. The
inconsistencies are increased by the figures of angels, not i standing
round about the throne' — seraphs in position and rank — but kneel-
ing round the altar-steps like acolytes, and like them flinging
incense, while others bear the actual instruments of the Passion —
the sponge, nails, &c. — which only add further confusion. It
needed, doubtless, a disentanglement of idea, more than could be
expected, from the established conventions and contradictions of
the Art of the time, to avoid incongruities which are the emptier
when contrasted with those portions, where the master was obviously
left to his own truthful conceptions. For here, approaching from
all sides, are seen that ' great multitude of all nations and kindreds
and people and tongues ' — the holy warriors and the holy pilgrims,
CHRIST AS THE LAMB. 339
comiDg in solemn processions from afar — with other throngs
already arrived in the celestial plain, clothed in white robes, and
holding palms in their hands. Their forms are like unto ours ; the
landscape around them is a mere transcript of the sweet face of our
outer nature ; the graceful wrought-iron fountain in the midst is
such an one as still sends forth its streams in an ancient Flemish
city ; yet we feel these creatures to be beings from whose eyes God
has wiped away all tears — who will hunger and thirst no more ;
our imagination invests these flowery meads with the peace and
radiance of celestial precincts, while the streams of the fountain are
converted into living waters, to which the Lamb Himself will lead
His redeemed. Here, in short, where all is human and natural in
form, the spiritual depths of our nature are stirred; there, where
all affects to be ideal, our sympathies instinctively close. The
reason is easily found ; in the one instance, the painter truly felt
what he traced on the canvas ; in the other, he merely borrowed a
conventional though otherwise sacred symbol, and greatly mis-
applied it.
We have dwelt the more on the defects of this glorious picture,
because in all representations from the Apocalypse, from Van Eyck
to Albert Diirer, the subjects are more or less travestied by these
incongruities, till one is tempted, especially in the presence of
inferior works, to believe them unfitted for the conditions of Art.
But far from this being really the case, one can conceive no higher
occasion for the loftiest aims of religious Art than this stupendous
vision, if treated with that earnest and reverential unity which
must be its first condition, and which is more easy, perhaps, to
express in the language of the eye, than in that of speech.
340 BISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST AS THE GOOD SHEPHERD.
IT was natural that Art should embody our Lord under that form
in which He directly imaged Himself, or rather, in that among the
many types by which He explained His mission and character to
our comprehensions, which was most adapted to Art.
6 I am the way, the truth, and the life,' were figures of speech
which could find no entrance to the soul through the eye. * I am
the vine,' or ' I am the door,' were only partial interpreters when
given in Art — themselves needing a glossary ; but * I am the good
shepherd ' supplied a type which fell from the blessed lips as visible
to the eye as it was grateful to the mind, and needing no comment
to become the most familiar, beautiful, and expressive of symbols.
It may be even said that with the Scriptures abounding as they do
with allusions to the human race under the metaphor of sheep —
t All \\ ^ like sheep have gone astray ; ' ' We are the people of His
pasture and the sheep of His hand' — that Art would have readily
and naturally gone one step farther, and invested our Lord with the
character of a shepherd, even if He had not so described Himself. In
the days of persecution, this figure adapted itself also, peculiarly, to
the condition and need of the early Christians. No enemy could
draw offence or suspicion from this humble effigy of their God, which
bore no sceptre except that of the Cross or the crook, and assumed no
sovereignty save that of a shepherd caring for his sheep, and ready
to lay down his life for them. And here the purpose to which the
figure of a shepherd bearing a sheep on his shoulders was dedicated
by the heathen, contributed, doubtless, to render this symbol of
Christian doctrine the more safe. For Mercury, attired as a shep-
herd, with a ram on his shoulders,1 borne in the same manner as
in many of the Christian representations, was no unfrequent object,
and in some instances has led to a difficulty in distinguishing
between the two.
i Piper. Vol. i. p. 77.
CHRIST AS THE GOOD SHEPHERD. 341
No wonder, then, that the figure of the Good Shepherd should
have been one of the earliest, as it was certainly the most popular
and comprehensive, of Christian symbols. It is mentioned by
Tertullian, who flourished at the beginning of the 3rd century,
as engraved upon the glass and metal vessels used in the sacra-
mental rites and love-feasts of the early Christians, fragments of
which exist, in our museums. It appears also on lamps, seals, and
gems.
But it is chiefly known to us in its larger and more important
forms in the flat reliefs on early sarcophagi, and as painted on
the walls of the Roman Catacombs, and in the early mosaics of
Ravenna.
Yet, with all these various modes of rendering, the subject can
never be said to have lapsed into a mere convention. On the con-
trary, a marked distinctness of purpose, based on different passages
in the same beautiful parable given in Luke and John, is evident,
and may be classed under the following heads : —
1. In certain representations — one, for instance, on a sarcophagus
in the Vatican, another a mosaic at Ravenna — our Lord is seen
standing or seated. In the earlier instance, with a staff; in the
latter, with a cross, caressing a sheep. Here He is in the abstract
character of the Good Shepherd. Other sheep lie or stand around
Him, with their heads turned in His direction, as if listening.
These are the sheep that 'know His voice.'
2. Another form shows the shepherd leaning on his staff with a
melancholy air, his hand lifted to his head, the ancient gesture of
one who had received ill tidings ; * or seated, as in a wall-painting
in the Catacombs, in a position of unmistakeable depression. This
is the shepherd who has lost his sheep : ' What man of you having
an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the
ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost,
until he find it ? ' (Luke xv. 4).
3. This is where he finds the sheep, and is catching it, sometimes
in an ancient fashion still observable in pastoral countries, both
North and South, by the tail.
4. The fourth representation is the most frequent. It is ;'the
1 Bucnarotti. Vetri Antichi, p. 24.
342
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
-shepherd after his search, with the sheep on his shoulders, bearing
it to the fold : ' And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his
shoulders, rejoicing.' In several instances the shepherd mourning
for the loss of the animal, and in the next scene catching it, are
given together ; but there is one example given by Bosio, in which
the three moments — the loss, the recovery, and the bearing it
home, are seen in juxtaposition1 (woodcut, No. 257). Thus the
whole pastoral drama is seen at a glance.
257
The Good Shepherd. (Ancient sarcophagus.)
This beautiful type of the love of the Saviour and the safety of
the once stray soul meets the eye perpetually in the Art of the
Catacombs, sometimes given singly, sometimes showing its pre-
eminence in a Christian sense by its central position on the vaulted
roof, with the other and more mediate types of salvation — Noah
with the Ark — Abraham and Isaac — Daniel between the lions, &c.
— as tributary forms around it (see woodcut, No. 3, vol. i.) The
shepherd sometimes sustains the sheep with his outstretched arms,
taking thus the form of the Cross, with the right hand holding the
fore-feet, with the left the hind. Thus the animal lies helpless
in the grasp of his preserver, who seems to say that no man shall
pluck his ransomed creature from him. Or again, he holds the
animal, as in a circle, round his neck, the four feet in both hands
on his breast. This has a more endearing effect, and the sheep turns
Bottari, torn. iii. tav. 163.
CHRIST AS THE GOOD SHEPHERD. 343
its head naturally and lovingly towards its master. In some cases
all four feet are in his left hand, and the right holds the syrinx, as
if about to express his joy in music. In a few instances, even, the
animal is quite free, the shepherd's hands being engaged, one with
his pipe, the other in caressing a sheep at his side. The joy of the
flock, to whom their lost companion is restored and their shepherd
returned, is sometimes evident. In an illustration from the Cata-
combs, a sheep has risen on its hind-feet, like a dog welcoming his
master.
The figure of the shepherd with the animal on his shoulders was
also regarded as a symbol of the Resurrection — the Lord of souls
thus bearing the sheep that were to stand at His right hand in the
Day of Judgment to His everlasting mansions.
This idea, however, was not strictly adhered to, for sometimes it
is a goat with horns — the animal so much abounding in Italy —
which is thus supported.
In one instance mentioned by Buonarotti, a further idea is dwelt
upon, when the shepherd, having set down his charge, is seen
returning thanks for its restoration.
The subject of the Good Shepherd is redolent with the peculiar
fragrance of early Christian feeling. It did not descend beyond
perhaps the first six centuries, and no breath of a later and less
pure Art has passed over it. For the Good Shepherd by Murillo,
in the Madrid Gallery, is merely the lovely Christ Child, whom,
in the veto imposed by the Spanish Church against all nude figures,
the painter has attired in a costume justifying the introduction
of some very matter-of-fact Spanish merinos. The reality of this
subject, and not its symbolism, was its recommendation to the
Spanish school, where real sheep were painted truer to life than
spiritual shepherds. The Ribera in the National Gallery is an
instance in point.
Neither Italian nor Netherlandish Art, properly speaking, exhibits
the subject. In Philippe de Champagne's picture in the gallery at
Lille, the ideal yields entirely to the material ; a great fat sheep lies
on the shoulders of a well-fed, robust man — both evidently much
inconvenienced by the juxtaposition.
Steinle's well-known design of the Good Shepherd saving the
strayed sheep is very beautiful in intention and expression. It does
344 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
not, however, like the early representations, illustrate any distinct
passage in Scripture, and the sheep caught among the thorns has
the pictorial demerit of not being at once intelligible to the un-
taught eye.
CHRIST AS SECOND PERSON OF THE TRINITY. 345
CHRIST AS SECOND PERSON OF THE TRINITY.
THE mystery of the Trinity — three Persons and one God — which, in
the words of St. Bernard, it was ' temerity to search into, piety to
believe, and life eternal to know ' — was not approached by Art in
the outward equality of the three Persons for many centuries. This
was owing to the strong feeling entertained, in early Christian
times, against any representation under a human form — and in no
other form could He be conceived — of that First Person whom no
man has seen at any time. Thus Art had no choice but to abstain
from all attempt to depict this dogma, since only by the form in
which Christ was known to us could the equality between the Father
and Son be expressed.
In an historical sense, the three Persons under human semblance
may be said to have been represented, at an early date, in the visit
of the three angels to Abraham, which is seen in the mosaics at
Ravenna. Neither early Art nor theology, however, admitted this
to be a manifestation of the Trinity — and in the mosaic in question
the three figures, each with a simple nimbus, are doubtless intended
for the three angelic visitants. In an historical sense, too, Art,
from an early time, gave the presence of the Trinity at the Baptism
of our Lord, who is seen in His human Person with the accompany-
ing symbols of the First and Third Person — the hand and the dove
above Him. Our subject, however, is unconnected with sacred
history, and relates only to ideal and abstract conceptions of this
mystery, whether given in symbolic or human forms, or in a com-
bination of both.
The three Persons, the First and Third in symbolic forms, may
be seen together, rather in juxtaposition than in triune connection,
as early as the 6th century. This appears in the mosaics of the
Church of SS. Cosmo and Damian, and in those of other early Basi-
licas at Rome, where Christ is represented in His human form with
the hand of the Father holding a crown above Him, and a bird
with a glory round its head on a tree or in the air at His side. The
VOL. II. Y Y
346 HISTORY OP OUIl LORD.
Apostles ranged on each hand, show that though each Person of the
Trinity is thus indicated, it is not the mere idea of the dogma which
is intended. This idea is more directly seen, with an exchange of
symbolism, in the 12th century. In St. John Lateran, at Rome,
for instance, the Second Person is effigied by a jewelled cross, over
which hovers the dove, while the Father above assumes the human
form seen as far as a bust-length in the clouds.1
It would appear that as soon as Art ventured to represent the
First Person under the form of man, the perfect equality and
similitude of the Three was, as a natural consequence, immediately
aimed at. This is believed to have occurred first in a manuscript by
St. Dunstan (died A.D. 908), where three figures are seen attired in
royal robes with crowns and sceptres. The First and Second Person
are here alike in age ; but Art, whose great charge it is, in imita-
tion of her great original, Nature, to make no one Being exactly
like another, has gone so far as to distinguish the Third Person by
a more youthful aspect. This tendency to individualise shows itself,
as time proceeded, by different attributes proper to each. To the
First Person, for instance, is given the globe ; to the Second, the
Cross ; and to the Third, the book. Only in one particular exempli-
fication of the mystery do these attributes vanish before the attempt
to establish a perfect identity. This occurs in a series of the Crea-
tion, where God says, ' Let us make man in our image.' Here the
noun singular, * image,' being interpreted strictly as the same for
all three, is conveyed by three figures of identical features, dress,
and position, who, seated side by side, hold a scroll on which this
text is inscribed.2 There is something startling and supernatural
to the eye in this exact repetition of the same form, a mystery as
much in Art as it is in theology. Yet even here the necessity of a
distinction, though reduced to a minimum degree, is vindicated by
a slight mark, typifying rather than depicting the print of the nails
on the feet of the centre figure. The Second Person, properly placed
between the First and the Third, is thus identified. He also is the
only one whose uplifted hand expresses the act of blessing.
Such representations, connected with the language of Genesis,
may, however, in some sense be termed historical. When Art is
left to the mere ideal conception, her impatience of all repetitions
1 Didron, ' Iconographie Chr&ienne,' p. 560. 2 Ibid. Woodcut, No. 137.
CHRIST AS SECOND PERSON OF THE TRINITY.
347
of the same form expresses itself more and more in an appeal
against too literal an embodiment of the mystery. At the same
time, it would appear that the increasing necessity, in the growing
scepticism of the 13th and succeeding centuries, for upholding the
divinity of Christ, and the great dogma of His being seated at the
right hand of God, led to a careful habit of retaining the identity
between the First and Second Person, while the Third resumed His
historical symbol — the dove.
Procession of the Holy Spirit. (16th century.)
Iii all these Trinities, whether in three equal Persons or in the
two Persons and the dove, it may be observed that the character of
Christ takes the lead, and imparts itself to all, the supremacy of
the idea which connects man with God being seen in that so-called
livery of the Cross — the cruciform nimbus — which, up to the 14th
century, generally environs alike the head of each.
A further reason for the introduction of the Holy Spirit uuder
348 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
this form of the dove may be traced in the doctrinal purpose to which
its position is made to serve. For the dove is almost invariably
seen in the Art of the 13th and 14th centuries, and even occasion-
ally as late as the 16th, hovering between the Father and the Son,
with the tips of its wings touching the lips of each (woodcut, No.
258). This illustrates what is called the double procession of the
Holy Spirit — in the words of the Nicene Creed, ' proceeding from
the Father and the Son.' This is a feature in Art peculiar to the
Latin Church, which probably thus sought to exhibit its point of
departure in doctrine from the Church of Byzantium.
No more beautiful representation of the Trinity can be quoted
than that by Mernling, towards the close of the 15th century,
contained in the celebrated Breviary of Cardinal Grimani, at
Venice. Here the identity of the First and Second Persons,
who are clothed in the same royal robe, is carefully preserved,
and the distinction conveyed only by the attributes — the Son bears
His Cross, in sign of His mediatorial character, while, as if the
more jealously to assert His no less equality with the Father, the
sceptre of authority is held by one hand of each. (We give an
etching.) Here the feeling of the great master seems to have
forbidden that stiff and unnatural position of the dove, typical of
the doctrine of the procession. The sacred bird hovers gracefully
between them, and the crown above is emblematical of the equal
Godhead of all. Nevertheless the Second Person takes the lead
to the eye of the believer, for the end of the Cross rests upon the
world.
It may be remarked that in these forms of representation, where
the locality is heaven, the Trinity, whether two only, or all three in
human forms, are always seated. This position refers to the figure
of speech, illustrative of repose and command, which describes the
First Person as sitting on the throne or the heavens, and Christ as
seated at His right hand.1 Not that Art has always observed this
position of the Son, who in our etching, as in many instances that
could be given, is on the left of the Father. This is probably
1 In scholastic times, when every sense but, or besides, the most obvious one was
given to the forms of Scripture speech, the idea of the exclusive privilege of the seated
posture possessed by the Trinity was worked out to the verge of the burlesque, as de-
scribed in the history of the Fall of Lucifer (see vol. i. p. 57).
Grunami Breviary. S. Mortis Library.
CHRIST AS SECOND PERSON OF THE TRINITY. 349
traceable to a confusion even still existing between the right and
left of the figures represented and that of the spectator.
The three Persons of the Trinity, it is true, are also seen
standing, and even in animate gestures, as in the subject of the
Creation of the Angels (see etching, vol. i. p. 62), or of Man. But
whenever the abstract idea of the great mystery is intended, the
seated position will always be found. This position of the Trinity
is the most stately and reverential which Art has embodied. There
is something superhuman to the eye in these grand and solemn
figures which sit side by side — separate, yet the same — ' the Father
Lord, the Son Lord, and the Holy Ghost Lord,' invested with
purple mantles, and with such insignia as conveyed the highest
impersonation of dignity proper to the age or country. And here,
as well as in the Art, the stamp of history is found, for in the 15th
and 16th centuries we find the regal or imperial idea, which had
hitherto prevailed, superseded by that which had become one
higher still in the feeling of Christendom — the idea, namely, of the
Papal power (see last woodcut, No. 258). The Father and Son
accordingly appear with the triple tiara of the Vatican and the
Papal mantle, alike in every respect, only that the priestly char-
acter of the Son is distinguished by the stole seen across His
breast. Sometimes each holds the sacred volume.
Rubens' picture in the Munich Gallery is one of the last
expressions of this class of Trinity — a magnificent work of Art,
.but with an entire abandonment of the intention of the concep-
tion (woodcut, No. 259, next page).- No mystery of equality
of Persons, or dogma of trinity in unity, can be deduced here.
To the unassisted eye it is rather an epitome of the Three Ages
• — Age lolling on clouds, Manhood sitting erect, and Infancy
gambolling around a globe below. Here also another abstract
idea, that of Christ as Mediator, which we shall presently con-
sider, is superadded. Christ has His Cross (as in the etching
from Memling), and the Father the sceptre, and both have their
feet upon the globe as the indication of joint supremacy; but
Christ is showing His wounds in intercession for mankind, and the
character of the Mediator thus supersedes that of the Second
Person of the Godhead.
The history of the Coronation of the Virgin also supplies a large
350
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
The Trinity. (Rubens. Munich. Gallery.)
number of illustrations of this class of Trinity, for which the reader
is referred to Mrs. Jameson's l Legends of the Madonna.'
We now turn to another distinct form in which Art has at-
tempted to embody this mystery. Here the chief condition of the
idea of the Trinity is lost, the equality of the Persons being as far
sundered as life from death and truth from semblance.
By a strange reversal in the feelings of Art, the First Person
is here alone invested with the human shape, and the Second
Person represented by the mere symbol of a crucifix, with an
image of a dead Christ upon it, thus sacrificing the idea of His
divine nature to that of His earthly sufferings. We give a specimen
of this strange device, known by the name of the Italian Trinity,
which obtained a strange popularity from the 12th to the 17th
century, exhibiting little variety of composition during all those
CHRIST AS SECOND PERSON OF THE TRINITY.
351
Italian Trinity. (14th century.)
ages (woodcut, No. 260). The Father is always seen supporting
the Cross by the two ends of the transverse beam, the effigy
of the dead Son hanging generally between His knees, while
the dove appears proceeding from the lips of the Father and
touching the head of the Son — which is the earliest form — or perched
like a mere bird on one side of the cross. Angels sometimes sup-
port the feet of the Saviour. It would be difficult to explain this
spurious kind of Ecce Homo by any text of Scripture or tenet of
theology. It comes before our eyes like false logic in Art, the pro-
positions of which are unequal. The Father is a living person, the
Son a dead image, and on a different scale of size. The Father can
be nowhere but in heaven (seated sometimes on the rainbow), the
Son nowhere but on earth, while the dove ceases to form a bond of
union between beings of such unequal conditions, and, in the sense
of His procession from both, becomes a theological absurdity. One
of the grandest expressions of this composite idea, stript of its more
unattractive features, is a fresco by Masaccio, recently discovered
in S. Maria Novella, in Florence. The Almighty stands on a kind
of ledge, the Son is of the same size, and the Cross is fixed in the
ground. The hands of the First Person are under the transverse
352
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
beam, illustrating the passage in Scripture : * Underneath are the
everlasting arms.' The dove is between, but not touching either ;
the Virgin and St. John stand on each side, within the grand
architectural arch which enframes the subject ; outside of which
kneel the figures of the donor and his wife.
Another magnificent example is that by Pesellino (died 1457),
in the National Gallery, the masterpiece of that little known master,
and perhaps the finest work of its time.
Though called par excellence the Italian Trinity, this form
abounds in the miniatures of every school, and especially in all
forms of Art in the school of Nuremberg. There its most important
illustration is seen in the Adoration of the Trinity, by Albert
Diirer, now in the Vienna Gallery.
There have been other attempts to embody the triune doctrine —
such as the three Persons seen with one body and three heads — or
one head and three faces — or under a combination of three interlaced
circles — or as an aged figure within a circle holding an equilateral
triangle, &c. The first mentioned, especially, are monstrosities of
a frightful character, and all alike are unfit to be considered in the
domain of Art.
There are occasions on which the First and Second Persons of the
Trinity are seated together on a throne without the Third. This
is Usually found connected with the Psalm : ' The Lord said unto
my Lord, Sit Thou at my right hand, until I make Thine enemies
Thy footstool ' (Ps. ex. 1). (Woodcut, No. 261.)
261
First and Second Person. (Belgian MS. Mr. Holford.
CHRIST SEATED IN A GLORY. 353
CHRIST SEATED IN A GLORY, WHICH is SOMETIMES BORNE BY
ANGELS.
Ital. Una Maestb,.
THERE are certain representations of our Lord seen on high within
a glory, and seated upon the rainbow, or upon a throne, which are
known under the general term of ' Christ in Glory,' and approve
themselves to our feelings by their solemnity and grandeur, without
our precisely defining their meaning. These date, in the form of
miniatures, from the 10th century, and seem, when compared with
the classic Christian Art of preceding ages, to initiate a new epoch
of feeling as well as forms. The Christ of the early bas-reliefs of
the Catacombs is a beautiful and angelic being, ever young and
winning ; flowers, we feel, rise up beneath His tread, and perpetual
spring invests His path. But He inspires neither fear nor awe,
nor sense of immeasurable moral distance and boundless superiority
of nature. Such higher and more congruous ideas were, it seems,
reserved for a ruder and more earnest race to enunciate, who,
having buried all reminiscences of classic beauty and convention
beneath the wreck of empires and the convulsions of social order,
drew forth, as De Profundis, the true elements of Christian Art,
all helpless and unformed, but strong in the first conditions of the
reverential and the supernatural. The nature of this transformation
derives further corroboratiori from the locality in which it first
appeared, for these more solemn ideas of Christ in Art emerge to
view not in a Southern or Eastern land, but from amidst a Northern
people, being first seen, we are inclined to believe, in the forms of
Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-French Art. Christ is here no longer the
fairest of the sons of men, endowed with the terrestrial persuasions
of grace and beauty, but He is the enthroned God of the Universe,
riding upon the heavens, and as separate from us as they are from
the earth. The general arrangement of this subject, which makes
Christ seated on a rainbow, and with another rainbow round about
VOL. II. Z Z
354 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Him, was taken from the vision of Ezekiel (i. 27, 28) : ' And I saw
as the colour of amber, as the appearance of fire round about with-
in it, from the appearance of His loins even upward, and from
the appearance of His loins even downward, I saw as it were the
appearance of fire, and it had brightness round about. As the
appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so
was the appearance of the brightness round about.'
The ideas of the Infinite and the Everlasting had now gained pos-
session of the minds of men, grafting themselves more readily upon
the mystic mythology of Odin than upon the more earthly creed of
the Pantheon. Not inaptly are these subjects termed in Italian
i Una Maesta' — or, as we simply translate it, * A Majesty.' Nor is
their least recommendation that they leave the imagination free
while lifting it to the utmost range of vague but pious conjecture.
For to the devout eye the image is always that of 6 Christ in Glory ; '
and whether intended to set Him forth as a King ruling the
destinies of this earth, or as a Judge, coming to weigh it in the
balance, is equally edifying and appropriate. At the same time, a
little study of the subject elucidates certain distinctions in arrange-
ment which in some measure define the purpose of the artist,
without diminishing the grandeur of the general thought.
In the scheme of Christian subjects, which had greatly increased
in number by the 10th century, Christ, surrounded with a glory,
and seated on a rainbow or on a throne, holding the book or
sceptre in one hand and blessing with the other, and sometimes
borne along by angels, will always be found next after the re-
presentation of the Descent of the Holy Ghost. With that, the
revealed history of the past terminates ; with the Last Judgment
the revealed prophecy of the Future commences : this abstract
subject of Christ in glory stands between them. Such being its
position in religious illustration, there can be no doubt that this
picture is intended to set forth the accomplishment of the great
Christian idea, culminating in Christ's resumption of His divine
state. This is frequently confirmed by the globe or sphere which
our Lord holds in His hand — in the twofold character of Creator
and Saviour ; more often still by the attributes of the four Evan-
gelists, each with his book or name on a scroll, which are placed
at the angles outside the glory. It is, in short, the embodiment
CHRIST SEATED IN A GLORY.
355
of the belief that Christ has ascended on high and entered into
His glory, there to exercise all power in heaven and earth, and
to shed His benediction on all who believe in Him through the
teaching of the four gospels. We take this illustration (No.
262) from a psalter belonging to Mr. Holford. Thus we also
262
Christ in Glory. (Belgian MS. Mr. Holford.)
understand it in the large and splendid picture in King Edgar's
Prayer Book (also of the 10th century), where the king stands
below the celestial vision with upraised arms, as if confessing his
faith. And we arrive at this solution more clearly still in the
356 HISTORY OF OUR LOKD.
so-called Queen Mary's Prayer Book (of the beginning of the 14th
century), where this subject is seen heading the Athanasian Creed:
' Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he
hold the Catholic faith.' This representation, therefore, of Christ,
as Lord of all, is intended to express the Catholic faith in the
abstract — the doctrine of the Trinity being set forth in the next
picture. On one occasion, in a psalter of the 12th century — in the
British Museum (Lansdowne, 383) — the idea of Christ as King of
glory, or King of kings, has been directly given by the word ' rex '
in His cruciform nimbus.
This figure of Christ in glory is seen frequently over the side
doorway of early Gothic churches, of the llth and 12th centuries.
The composition agrees exactly with that seen in miniatures of the
same and earlier dates. It appears usually over the South portal,
which is the spiritual side of the building, the Annunciation being
sometimes over the door to the North, which represents the temporal
side.
THE REST OF THE CHURCH.
THERE is another class also of these representations in which
another intention is evident, and which is generally mistaken for
the Day of Judgment. This is seen in objects of a Byzantine
origin ; for instance, in the imperial dalmatic, believed to be of
the 12th century, preserved in the treasury of St. Peter's, at Rome ;
and in the centre of a triptych given by D'Agincourt (tab. xci.),
the two representations having that exact similarity which results
from the laws regulating Greek Art. Christ here sits upon the
rainbow in the centre of a circle, the right hand raised, the left
holding the open book. Above Him are the sun and moon, and
the instruments of the Passion ; at the angles are the four symbols
of the Evangelists ; on each side the Virgin and St. John the
Baptist ; under His feet two winged wheels, the ancient symbol of
eternal life — admitted in Greek Art as emblems of thrones— while
around Him are the angels and archangels, the patriarchs, prophets,
apostles, saints, and martyrs, all offering praise and adoration —
THE REST OF THE CHURCH. 357
an embodiment, as it were, of the Te Deum, ' The glorious company
of the Apostles praise thee,' &c. The ground in this circle is
studded with stars. Outside it, on one hand, is the figure of the
good thief bearing his cross ; on the other, Abraham seated with
the souls of the blessed, represented as little children, in his lap
and at his knees.1
Here the ground is strewn with flowers and with crosses within
crowns, the true emblems of Christian victory. The whole is
intended for an inner and outer Paradise, and, we venture to think,
may be meant for the iirst Resurrection, when the saints shall
reign with Christ, while the souls in Abraham's bosom await the
second Resurrection. This subject is given in the t Guide de la
Peinture Grecque ' as < La reunion des esprits ' — a term of which
it is difficult to guess the meaning, but in point of time it occurs
before the Day of Judgment. Certainly it is not intended for
the Day of Judgment itself, under which title it is described by
M. Didron.2 It may be rather considered as that somewhat
undefined period of celestial bliss for the souls of the righteous
which is termed in mediaeval theology ' the Rest of the Church.'
This interpretation gains further strength from the circumstance
that Christ is sometimes seen seated in such representations upon
an actual edifice in form of a church, or with His feet resting
upon it. This subject merged in later Art into the Coronation
of the Virgin, which occasionally is shown in full state — our
Lord and His Mother seated on high with angels around them,
and the hierarchy of patriarchs, prophets, apostles, saints, &c.,
below. Thus it appears in the beautiful picture of the Corona-
1 Art is not accountable for perfect distinctness of ideas in such abstract subjects. It
is evident that the painters, and therefore the theologians, of the Greek Church limited
the souls in Paradise to those whom our Lord had liberated from Limbus. This explains
the figure of the good thief standing alone, who is stated to have brought up the pro-
cession of the released Fathers, and entered heaven last after them. In all representa-
tions where Adam goes first, the good thief will be found last. The souls in Abraham's
bosom — itself a type of Paradise — are understood to be those of the Christian Church
who have lived after Christ's Ascension. The Virgin herself is an exception, having
been at her death conveyed by her Son direct on high.
The inconsistency of this division of the souls, when taken in connection with the
parable of Lazarus and Dives given by Christ Himself — the only source whence the idea
of Abraham's bosom is derived — will be immediately obvious.
2 Auuales Arche'ologiques, vol. i.
358 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
tion of the Virgin by Fra Angelico, in the Louvre, where each
hierarchy is represented by two or three individuals. The splendid
Bedford Missal, of about the same date (1430), also gives the
same subject with its quaint French legend beneath : i Comment
Dieu est en divine majeste et . . . sa digne mere avecq tous les
benoits (benis) saints, patriarches, prophetes, martyres, confesseurs,
et vierges, chacqun en leur ordre et selon leur merite, louant Dieu
de sa gloire.'
It is presumptuous to suggest new meanings for well-known and
long-studied subjects, but we are inclined to believe that the
fresco by Raphael, in the Camera della Segnatura in the Vatican,
called la Disputa, or the Dispute of the Sacrament (a title now
recognised as merely arbitrary), has some reference to this very
subject, thus vaguely called 6 la reunion des esprits.' Italian
writers have dwelt upon its theological intentions, and Germans
have mystified them under the appellation of the higher life of
man. But, while grasping at a larger circle of ideas, there is every
appearance that Raphael was mainly influenced in this composition
by the then well-known types and descriptions of * the Rest of the
Church.'
We have Christ here seated within a glory, with the Virgin
and St. John the Baptist at His side ; around Him are the hier-
archies, already described, the angels, archangels, patriarchs,
prophets, saints and martyrs, with the (in the sense of Art), un-
manageable symbols of the Evangelists, transformed into winged
cherubs of infinite beauty, bearing the four books of the Gospels.
The division of the saints and martyrs into two portions — the
one heaven, the other earth — is strikingly consistent with Raphael's
practice. Nor does this interfere with the harmony of the idea,
for, admitting this meaning, the earth was intended by him in
a glorified sense — ' a new heaven and a new earth ' — in both of
which the spirits of just men find happiness in contemplating
the perfections of Christ. Thus while He is seen in His glory
enthroned on the heavens above, He also reposes below on His
earthly throne, the altar, where the monstrance containing the
Sacrament of the Eucharist, surrounded with heavenly light, stands
aloft in the centre.
But perfect as is this fresco in general grouping and individual
THE REST OF THE CHURCH. 359
expression, it is not to be expected that even Raphael should, in
his lax epoch, be very consistent in his conception of Christian
forms. It seems to be a law in traditional Christian Art that,
however amplified and typified, no more than one point of doc-
trine should be treated at once. If a painter were required to
represent the doctrine of the Atonement, for example, he did
not bring in that of the Trinity. Here this simplicity and clear-
ness of aim is lost sight of, and the full representation of the
Trinity is superadded to the full idea of the Church Triumphant
and of the Eucharistic Sacrifice. Thus the hitherto forbidden
individuality of the First Person is seen above the Second, in
the semblance of a venerable figure holding the globe, and with
the triangle above His head, which by this time parodied the
solemn cruciform nimbus. At the same time the very Person
of Christ, surrounded with a glory, of no cruciform character
at all, introduces a certain contradiction. For while the Holy
Ghost, in the figure of a dove, floats below His feet, and sheds
celestial grace upon the spirits assembled below, our Lord with
His uplifted hands and bared side displays those wounds which are
only thus exhibited for the confusion of the reprobate in the Day
of Judgment.1
This fresco has puzzled many to read, nor do we presume to have
succeeded better. It would be difficult to find any key of Christian
tradition that would fit so complicated a structure, and the more
the science of Christian iconography is developed, the more hope-
less, doubtless, will its interpretation become.
1 The Lord retains His wounds, according to S. Buenaventura, for three reasons: that
they might be a proof of His Resurrection to the Apostles — a plea to the Father in
interceding for us— and a confusion to the reprobate in the Day of Judgment.
360 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
INSTRUMENTS OF THE PASSION.
THERE are several abstract subjects in the history of Art in which
the instruments of the Passion are conspicuous. We describe a few
of the principal in the following pages.
DEAD CHRIST, ERECT IN THE TOMB, SHOWING His WOUNDS.
This is a mysterious, and, to most spectators, an unintelligible
subject, which meets the eye in every form of Art from about the
end of the 14th century. Our Lord is seen at about three-quarters
height erect in the tomb, sometimes seated on the edge. The crown
of thorns is on His head, and the marks of the Cross on His person,
for the wound is seen in the side, and the hands are so placed as to
show the wounds in them. Generally the Cross is behind Him,
with the chief instruments of the Passion suspended from it, or lean-
ing against it. Sometimes the sun and moon, as at the Crucifixion,
are in the background. But the chief mystery of the subject
consists in His being thus erect and self-supporting, and therefore
alive, and yet with His eyes closed, His head sometimes much on
one side, and with those signs on His body which show that He has
already undergone the death of the Cross.
The position in which this subject is found, and which, there
can be no doubt, suggested its peculiar characteristics, furnishes a
ready clue to the meaning. It may be observed almost invariably
in ancient churches, painted, or in low relief, upon the doors of the
sculptured tabernacle or ciborium, in which the pyx containing the
consecrated wafer is deposited. We see, therefore, immediately,
the connection of idea between the locality and the representation.
Christ is here the great Sacrifice of the Eucharist, pleading to us
by those wounds by which the Divine Victim was slain : ' Take,
eat. This is my body, which was given for thee.' The Lamb
without blemish, and slain from the foundation of the world, is
thus here representing His perfect humanity, while the sculptured
DEAD CHRIST, ERECT IN TOMB, SHOWING HIS WOUNDS. 361
*
architecture of the tabernacle continues and expands the idea of the
Godhead. For the dove is frequently seen under the frieze hover-
ing over Christ's head. The frieze itself consists of angels' heads,
and above, in the lunette, is the head of the Father, or Christ
Himself, no longer as Victim, but as Lord of all, in the act of
benediction.
In the position, also, on the doors of the ciborium, we find the
explanation of the double and supernatural idea of Christ dead,
and yet alive. For without touching on those doctrinal distinctions
regarding the Sacrament, which are especially silenced before such
pictures, the mystery of the Eucharist is this, that the Church
shows forth His ( precious death until His coming again,' who yet
ever liveth to make intercession for us. This, is the great dogma
which Art has endeavoured to embody, making Christ alive as the
Intercessor, and yet pleading to us by His Death, of which He
Himself shows us the indisputable signs.
The knowledge of the origin of this subject is the more necessary
when it is seen in isolated pictures without the context of the
ciborium. Here the instruments are generally absent, and the
mournful, mysterious figure sits here, like His own type, 'the
pelican in the wilderness.'
The subject goes under the general term of the Ecce Homo.
If further distinguished as the Eucharistic Ecce Homo, no fitter
title could be given. For it is here intended that we should
behold ' the Man,' not as about to die, and shown to a small and
ignorant multitude, but in the larger sense of having overcome the
sharpness of death, and pleading this to a redeemed world. Art
here shows her power to deal even with those mystical truths of
our faith which seem least adapted for sight. There are few
representations of this subject, even in the rudest form, which
fail to touch the chord of religious emotion. But there is a reverse
also to this view of her capacities, for we need but to see those
versions of the subject into which it merged, to feel how ready Art
was to debase herself in times wanting alike in taste and reverence.
The usual type of the Eucharistic Ecce Homo, which succeeded
the above-described, and which prevails to this time in Roman
Catholic churches, is a full-length figure of Christ in perfect health
and vigour, holding His Cross with one hand, and pressing His
VOL. IT. 3 A
362 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
wounded side with the other, so that the blood is projected like a
spout of water into a chalice that stands on the ground. This is
one of those wretched conceits, for the purpose of illustrating the
idea of the Church, rather than that of her Head, which mark the
downfall of Christian Art.
DEAD CHRIST IN THE TOMB SUPPORTED BY ANGELS OR SACRED
PERSONAGES.
THIS is a variety of the same idea, though less clear in intention,
and quickly branching off into other lines of thought. It hardly
occurs earlier than the end of the 15th century, when the tradi-
tions of Christian Art were fast being broken up. At first the
double and mystical idea of life and death was preserved, for the
Christ, though supported by the arms of angels or sacred persons,
is alive. He is thus exhibited to the devotion of some saint pecu-
liarly associated with the contemplation of His sufferings. Thus
St. Jerome, usually kneeling before the crucifix, is here seen in
the act of penance before the Dead Christ in the tomb, as in a
small picture by Lorenzo Costa, exhibited in the Loan Museum in
1862, where the idea is repeated in the background by the scene
of St. Francis receiving the stigmata. Or St. Francis himself is
the worshipper on one side, as in the predella of the large picture
by Filippino Lippi (No. 293) in the National Gallery, and the
Magdalen on the other, while Joseph of Arimathea supports the
here .lifeless body, thus showing a mixed idea of the historical
Entombment with that of the Dead Christ in the tomb. This
branch of the subject soon became a kind of Pieta — the exponent
of the grief of Christ's followers, or of that of the angels who
lament over Him — or it embraces a further idea, and the Baptist
assists Joseph of Arimathea in sustaining the body, and points
with the other hand to the dead Lamb of God. (See Cosimo Tura
in National Gallery, No. 590.)
In the hands of later masters this kind of subject degenerated
into a mere tour de force, in the contrast between the athletic pro-
portions of the Dead Christ and the infantine forms of winged
DEAD CHRIST IN TOMB, WITH VIRGIN MARY AND ST JOHN. 363
cherubs sporting in mock affliction about Him. This is seen, for
instance, in the so-called Giorgione, at Treviso, where the master
possibly had no idea of any mystic kind at all in view. Or, worse
still, it became an ecclesiastical sentimentality, where boy-angels,
dressed like acolytes, with white surplices, and holding guttering
candles, illumine the body as it lies within the secret and rocky
enclosure of the sepulchre itself. An instance may be seen by
Taddeo Zuccaro, engraved in the Crozat Gallery.
DEAD CHRIST IN TOMB, WITH THE VIRGIN MARY AND ST. JOHN.
THIS is a distinct intention grafted upon that which belongs to
the ciborium. It took its origin from the feast in the Marian
Calendar, called the Feast of the Compassion of the Blessed Virgin
— the term impassion here denoting her suffering with the Passion
of her Son. In the French service it is called i La fete de notre
Dame de pitieV This French word gave riserit is supposed, to
the Italian term, nearer to it in sound than in sense, for this subject
is included under the wide title of a Pieta. It is, however, strictly
distinguishable from the supposed historical occasion where the
Virgin laments over the body of Christ, upon its descent from the
Cross. Here neither time nor place are taken into account, for it
is an abstract subject. In the earlier examples the Virgin is seen
seated before precisely the same representation as that given on the
ciborium, in contemplation of the spectacle of what her Son has
endured. St. John, her unfailing companion, is opposite to her.
She is thus rendered in the predella of a picture by Fra Angelico in
the Louvre (woodcut, No. 263, next page).
This somewhat stiff composition soon yielded to a more picturesque
treatment. We see it by Gaudenzio Ferrari, set off by all the grace
of mature Art (woodcut, No. 264, p. 365). Here the Eucharistic
idea is preserved in the Cross, and in the display of the wounds.
Martin Schon has the subject seen within a Gothic arch, which is
filled with a glory of angels. The Christ is alive and seated on the
tomb, and the Virgin, with the homelier feeling of Northern Art, is
wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.
364
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
263
Ideal Man of Sorrows. (Fra Angelico. Louvre.)
This subject of the Dead Christ, attended by His Mother
and beloved disciple, is sometimes met with under an aspect
which points to a dramatic origin. It is well known that sacred
plays, mysteries, or pageants were given on the day especially
dedicated to the Feast of the Holy Sacrament, called the Corpus
Christi. Traces of the influence of this custom upon the Art
of the time appear occasionally in early German engravings and
drawings. In the Bibliotheque Imperiale, at Paris, there is an
engraving of great beauty by an anonymous master, where
Christ is seen standing in the centre of a platform, showing His
wounds. The Virgin and St. John stand in postures of dejec-
tion symmetrically on each side of Him, and the ball and Cross
lie at His feet. Above is an arched canopy — a feature always
redolent of church or theatre decoration — upheld by two angels,
the one holding the lily, the other the sword, as described in the
Revelation.
A drawing in the Berlin Gallery also bespeaks the religious
shows and processions of the age. It represents a car of light and
elegant form supported by fifteen figures. Over it is a canopy,
under which is seated our Lord in the tomb, while the Virgin and
DEAD CHRIST IX TOMB, WITH VIRGIN MART AND ST. JOHN.
365
26 1
Piet&. (Gaudenzio Ferrari.)
St. John stand on each side with gestures of sorrow. The car is
decorated with dolphins at the angles, with figures outside them
holding musical instruments. It recalls the taste of the Emperor
Maximilian's car, by the same hand, viz., Albert Diirer, and must
have harmonised well with the decorated windows and gables of old
Nuremberg.
366 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
THE MAN OF SORROWS.
THE Abbe Zani has given this title to a subject of, in some re-
spects, similar features, but of wide difference of meaning. The
Christ here, as before, is seen alive in action, and with His eyes
open, but dead, and having His wounds. He is either seated or
standing, always with the crown of thorns, and often holding
instruments of the Passion. But the tomb is not always present,
and His wounds, though visible, are not displayed. It would be
difficult to assign the precise origin of this conception, though
certain texts suggest themselves at its sight. It would be difficult
also to define its exact character, for it branches off into many
varieties. We will describe two of them.
Under one aspect our Lord is seen full length, standing with bent
knees and with an expression of great dejection, with His hands
crossed on His breast, the one holding a scourge, the other a rod.
Sometimes the blood is pouring from His side. This generally
woful figure is looking full at the spectator, as if uttering the words
of Zechariah : ' They shall look on me whom they have pierced.'
We give an illustration from a drawing by Albert Diirer, in the
Dresden Gallery (woodcut, No. 265). This is a conception which
scarcely excites emotion, being too abject and morbid in character
for Him whose Divinity should never be lost sight of. In some
cases it assumes to be the direct transcript of visions described by
nuns and other devout persons, through whose eyes, we may venture
to say, the Lord of Life never assumes an elevated appearance.
This class of the Man of Sorrows is rarely the theme of a picture,
but exists in early woodcuts and engravings of great rudeness. It
commences probably in the 14th century. In the museum at
Cologne there is a small early picture in which the subject is
curiously treated. Christ stands with the scourge and the rod in
His crossed hands. On each side in the air is an angel topsy-
turvy, one with the bottle for the vinegar, the other with the
jug for the gall, and each with the other hand holding a gorgeous
THE MAN OF SORROWS.
367
piece of brocade half way before our
Lord's Person. The lance and the reed,
the latter with cup instead of sponge at
end of it, which is an early feature, are
behind.
On the other hand, another Man of
Sorrows, by the strong and homely tool
of Albert Diirer (woodcut, No. 266, next
page), we do not hesitate to define as
one of the most remarkable productions
of religious Art. Placing ourselves in
the position of an unenlightened but
intelligent spectator, viewing a picture
of the God of the Christians for the first
time, and in this form, and reasoning
upon the figure and its attributes, as we
should do on that of any new form of
personification, we cannot help feeling
that the chief mysteries of our faith —
the two natures of Christ, and His vica-
rious sufferings — might be deduced from
it. Here sits a being, like unto our-
selves in the forms of humanity, de-
nuded of all worldly circumstances, and
bowed down with misery and shame. 265
He is cinctured with a crown, the ma-
terials of which denote the bitterest mockery. He is pierced
with wounds which betray the most terrible form of death. Yet
this is no criminal — nay, this is no penitent — for glory bursts
mightily from around Him, mingling its rays with the spikes
of that cruel diadem. By this glory He is shown to be of a
nature nobler and stronger than man. Light and fire in all my-
thologies have been the sign of Deity. Yet, if nobler than man,
why bowed down with shame ? — if stronger, why subject to torment
and death ? If Deity, how could He die ? — if Man, how can He be
thus alive ?
There is scarcely another subject in the repertory of Christian
Art, which will yield such deep-meaning contradictions if interro-
Man of Sorrows.
(Drawing. A. Diiier. Dresden.)
3(58
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
265
Man of Sorrows. (A. Diirer.)
gated by the natural mind. Our Lord on the Cross is either dying
or dead ; our Lord risen is not bowed down with the sins of the
world ; our Lord seated on the rainbow is a natural conception of
the Godhead ; our Lord enthroned for Judgment is in the fitting
exercise of power. None touch the whole mystery like this Man of
Sorrows, thus seated, naked and miserable, on a stone, yet effulgent
with ' the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father.'
This solitary representation, also, is the highest embodiment of
this and of any class. Albert Diirer is prolific in all varieties—
the title-page of his Great Passion is another instance ; but here
he rises to his highest dramatic and religious power. The hiding
the face of our Lord — so touching a feature — is not here, as in
most cases, the weak evasion of a difficulty, but the wise avoid-
ance of an impossibility ; for Deity and shame are not compatible
in the same countenance, and it is not for us to gaze upon the Lord
THE MASS OF ST. GREGORY. 369
of Life while saying, in the words of the Psalmist, ' The shame of
my face hath covered me.'
The subject of the Man of Sorrows, and all its varieties, prevailed
greatly in the 15th century; its mysticism seems to have recom-
mended it especially to the German mind. It is, however, found in
Italy, by the hand of painters of a fantastic and ascetic tendency
— for instance, by Cosimo Tura, of the Ferrarese school, by Marco
Palmezzano, and by an anonymous master of great exaggeration of
character in the public gallery at Verooa.
THE MASS OF ST. GREGORY.
THIS is the real subject of a composition usually styled in catalogues,
' A Bishop saying Mass before an Altar, on which stands our Lord
showing His Wounds, and surrounded by the Instruments of the
Passion.' This is, literally, the description of the subject, of which
there are several pictures of the Cologne school in the Museum at
Cologne. It is also frequently seen in miniatures, woodcuts, and
engravings of the 1 5th century. Its origin is supposed to be derived
from the fact that Gregory the Great (Pope 590, died 604) was in
great measure the compiler of the Roman Missal, or, as the early
writers call it, ' the Book of Sacraments.' Hence he was represented
as engaged in the sacrifice of the Mass, while our Lord Himself, as
the Eucharistic Ecce Homo, stands on the altar before him. There
is, however, the tradition of a legend current at Rome in the 15th
century, that the apparition of our Lord was seen on the altar by St.
Gregory, while in the act of sacrificing. To this legend, doubtless,
the sudden outburst of this strange subject and of its exaggerated
and ingenious accessories is to be ascribed. It consists of the figure
of a bishop, or sometimes of a priest, kneeling before an altar, with
hands clasped, his stole supported by an attendant. At the side
kneel other bishops or priests ; on the altar is the figure of Christ,
sometimes a half-figure, sometimes full-length, pointing to the
wounds in His side ; behind Him are not only the Cross, the column,
the lance, the sponge, and every instrument usually included in the
instruments of the Passion, but also every accessory that had any
VOL. II. 3 B
370
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
possible connection with the sufferings of the Lord previous to
crucifixion. Thus the space under the Cross on each side of Christ
The Mass of St. Gregory. (School of Memling.)
is studded with a multitude of separate objects which it requires
some ingenuity to interpret. There is the head of Judas, with the
bag of money tied round his neck. There is the sword of St. Peter ;
the ear of the High Priest's servant, the lantern he carried ; the rope
by which the soldier dragged the Lord ; the cock that crowed when
THE ARMS OP CHRIST. 371
Peter denied Him ; the handkerchief that bound our Lord's eyes ;
the mouths that mocked; the hands that struck Him (in our illustra-
tion, one hand is open to slap, the other, with painful ingenuity,
contains the plucked-out hair !) ; the basin and jug with which Pilate
washed his hands ; the veil of St. Veronica ; the dice, the dice-box,
the garments, hammer, nails, &c. In addition to these, there is
sometimes seen the head of Judas in the act of kissing that of our
Lord, and even the figure of Pilate and his attendant, and in some
instances those of the Virgin and St. John. No other representation
in Christian Art has gathered together so many of these objects.
Seen as they are, each isolated from the other, they look at a distance
like an aviary, and will have puzzled many an eye to read their
meaning. We give this illustration (No. 267) from a small and
beautiful picture of the school of Memling, in the possession of Mr.
Ruhl of Cologne. Here the feeling of the artist has moderated the
redundance of the accessories.
THE ARMS OF CHRIST.
THIS is one of the strangest applications of the instruments of the
Passion, which are wrought up into the form of shield, helmet, and
crest, with our Lord Himself and the Virgin as supporters. It
seems to have been of German origin, and to have arisen at the
time when the German engravers were in the habit of receiving
commissions to engrave the arms and mottoes of guilds and wealthy
families. This is a conceit which, originating probably with some
over-ingenious construer of heraldry, assumes in Art the always
unfortunate conditions of an allegory translated into positive and
therefore profane images.
372 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST ENTHRONED.
IT may seem strange, that among those abstract representations
of our divine subject which may be called the offspring of pious
fancy, that of Christ enthroned and treated as an object of simple
adoration occurs with comparative rarity. It is not that Scripture
gives no warrant for such a moment, for the same remark would
apply to almost all the abstract conceptions we have treated.
The cause probably lay in the fact that the throne for several
centuries of later Christian Art was filled by the Madonna and
Child; thus combining the sense of her mediation with that
of the Divine Infant, and also affording an occasion invaluable to
the artist for introducing his highest conception of feminine beauty
and purity. The subject also depended upon the demand. It is
obvious that a picture of Christ with saints, unaccompanied by His
Mother, was a commission which very seldom found its way to
an artist's studio ; though when it did, we are tempted, from our
Protestant point of view, to infer that a more than common sense
of dependence and devotion dictated the order. So seldom is
it seen, however, that the unaccustomed eye does not immediately
recognise the benign and solemn figure thus terrestrially elevated.
The subject is seen by the hands of the Vivarini. A picture
in the Venetian ' Accademia delle Belle Arti,' of a very grand
order, shows the Saviour seated on a throne, in the act of benedic-
tion, His left hand on an open book (woodcut, No. 268). On
the left stands St. Francis, with the rules of his Order under
his arm, and a small cross in the right hand. On the right a
canonised abbot, reading a book. The figure is known to repre-
sent an abbot by the position of the crozier, which, when turned
inwards, denotes cloistral authority ; when outwards, external juris-
diction.
Another instance by Antonio da Murano, the earliest of the
Vivariui, gives a single devotee at the foot of the throne. The
CHRIST ENTHRONED.
373
263
Christ Enthroned. (L. Vivarini. Belle Arti, Venice.)
picture must be considered as having been ordered from the painter
by the kneeling woman, in a sense expressive of the sacramental
relation between the Saviour and herself. For Christ is showing
His wounds, and the angels above bear inscriptions : the one
on the right, 6 Yenite vos amici mei a me tantum dilecti caruem
rueam comedite ; ' that on the left, ' Yenite dileetissimi mei in
cellulam vinariam sanguineo meo inebriate vos' (woodcut, No. 269,
next page.)
In more than one instance we have remarked Christ standing on
a slightly elevated pedestal between the two saints invoked against
the plague — St. Sebastian and St. Rock. These were doubtless
votive pictures, and denote a sense of the Supreme Preserver acting
through His agents. A picture of this class, of the cinquecento
time, is in the Belle Arti, at Yenice (No. 535). Another is in the
collection of Count Rasponi, at Ravenna.
The Yirgin is very rarely seen standing in adoration by the
enthroned Son ; an instance occurs in a miniature heading an
ancient title-deed of the Scuola Grande di S. Teodoro, at Yenice,
of the date 1257, now in the British Museum.
374
HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
Cbrist Enthroned. (Vivarini.)
SALVATOR MUNDI.
THIS is the title given to a late class of pictures in which Christ
is represented alone, in the act of benediction, and with the sphere
or world — often represented as a crystal ball with Cross upon it —
in His hands. This is especially the characteristic of the German
and Flemish schools. A series of figures of the Apostles, as by
Lucas van Leyden, is sometimes headed by the figure of Christ,
blessing with one hand, and holding the ball and Cross with the
CHRIST TREADING ON ASP AND BASILISK. 375
other. Sometimes Christ stands upon the ball — called in old
phraseology the mound, from * monde,' or world. Quentin Matsys
has represented the Christ with the globe and Cross in one hand,
and blessing with the other, more than once. He is accompanied
by the Virgin in an adjoining frame. Her hands clasped in inter-
cession, uncovered beautiful hair, and jewelled mantle, give an
additional meaning to the subject, by showing the scene to be laid
in heaven. A most beautiful example of this double picture is in
the National Gallery. The subject is not usual in Italy. A
Salvator Mundi, by Antonello da Messina, in the National Gallery,
shows the probable result of Flemish residence. The Christ is with-
out the ball. Fra Bartolomeo and Barroccio have also examples of
the subject in the Pitti.
CHRIST TREADING ON ASP AND BASILISK, ON YOUNG LION AND
DRAGON.
THIS is an ancient subject, preserved in miniatures and ivories, and
in the sculpture of cathedrals. It is believed to occur as early as
the 9th century. The verse of the ninety-first Psalm is here literally
portrayed ; the moral intended being that Christ is thus treading
under foot the most cruel and dangerous forms of evil. The com-
parison of a few of these ancient representations might furnish a
curious chapter on the various ideas, in these remote times, regard-
ing the dragon and the basilisk. The latter is represented sometimes
as a kind of lizard, at others as a cock ; this idea being obviously
taken from 6 the cockatrice.' More frequently the dragon and the
lion alone are given. This is not a subject which has found favour
with late Art.
Another analogous subject makes Christ treading on the demon
— ' He shall tread Satan under his feet ' — and overcoming him
physically with the Cross. An illustration of this kind is seen in
Mr. BoxalVs Speculum.
376 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
CHRIST AS PREACHER.
THIS is hardly a subject, treated abstractly, within the scope of
Christian Art. It is distinct from the Sermon on the Mount, which
is historical, and also from the address of our Lord to His disciples
before His betrayal. Gaudenzio Ferrari has it. Christ is in a regular
pulpit, in animated action of discourse, the disciples, as in a church,
below. Rembrandt also has the subject.
CHRIST TREADING THE WINE-PRESS.
THIS is a very curious subject, seen in the Lorenz-Kirche, Nurem-
berg, where the actual representation of a figure of speech is carried
out into minute detail. Here our Lord, with the Cross on His
shoulders, is standing in the vat in violent action. The new wine
flows into a sort of tub, which a bishop draws off into another
barrel upon four wheels, which is dragged by the ox and the lion,
driven by the eagle, while the angel walks by the side with a whip.
On one side is the Pope, holding a dish of grapes, on the other a
bishop and cardinal making more wine vats, while a number of
priests hold cups. The reader will sufficiently construe the mean-
ing of this rather hard-pressed allegory. Nuremberg churches
have many curious examples of this symbolic tendency. We may
mention, though not belonging here, a curious application of the
Gospel and Sacraments in the painted glass of the choir of the
Lorenz-Kirche. The four Evangelists are seen each with the head
of their attribute — St. Luke with that of a bull, St. John with that
of the eagle, &c. John and Matthew are bringing baskets full of
the sacred wafer ; St. Luke and St. Mark are pouring them into a
large hand-mill, the round stones of which are revolving — the mill
being intended to represent Man, by whom the sacraments are
converted and digested to his salvation.
CHRIST AS PILGRIM. 377
IL SALVATORE.
THIS is a late subject, and being associated only with the times of
mature Art, when the higher pathos of expression gave way to the
pride of the eye and lust of the flesh in Art, can never be said to
offer an image of our Lord sufficiently reverential for Christian
contemplation. Titian painted this subject, now in the Pitti;
and if we forget who it is that this handsome and worldly figure
represents, we find all the master's qualities to admire. Another
example is in the Bologna Gallery.
CHRIST AS PILGRIM.
THIS is a mediaeval subject of much interest, proceeding chiefly, it is
supposed, from a versified romance, ' Romant des trois Pelerinages
-de la Vie, de 1'Ame, et de Jesus-Christ,' written in 1358.1
It begins with our Lord before His Incarnation, sent forth as a
little child by the Father, with the staff and wallet, and finally,
returning after His death to deliver an account of His mission.
The verses have a profane humour, which will hardly bear tran-
slation.2
The idea obtained another and more reverent form, of which we
give a specimen here by Wohlgemuth (woodcut, No. 270, next
page). Here the much-popularised history of the Instruments of
the Passion finds a further vent, for Christ, returning to render an
account of His mission, brings with Him the Cross, the crown of
thorns, and scourge. The second niche under the canopy of honour
at the hand of the Father is awaiting Him.
1 See ' Iconograplrie Chrdtienne,' p. 301. 2 Idem., p. 308.
VOL. II. 3 C
378
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
270
The Glorification of the Son. (Michael Wohlgemuth.)
THE CHILD CHRIST.
THE Infant Jesus, represented alone, is a subject which does not
occur before the latter part of the 15th century. It always assumes
an abstract character, and represents the idea of the Sacrifice. This
is conveyed by various accessories denoting the divine nature and
THE CHILD CHRIST.
379
mediatorial office, combined with the person of a little child of about
three years of age. It may be supposed that the subject first sug-
gested itself to a painter who excelled in the delineation of infantine
forms and expression ; and Luini was probably one of the earliest
of the Italian school, as he was certainly the best fitted, by the
character of his art, to originate so sweet and tender an image. A
Infant Carist. (Luini. M. Keizet. Paris.)
picture by him in the collection of M. de Reizet, at Paris, adds ail
the pathos of childish innocence to the solemnity of the mediatorial
idea. The beautiful Child, as seen in our woodcut (No. 271), is
seated alone in a cave, with its little hand pointing to the "Cross,
His features already sanctified with the promise of that manhood,
1 who, when He was reviled, reviled not again,' while an apple with
a piece bitten out of it on which His foot rests, and the dead serpent
at His side, show what brought the Divine Word to earth * wrapt
in clouds of infant flesh/
380
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Murillo, for the same reason, that of excelling in the expression
of childhood's sweetness and grace, was fertile in the same subject.
His Child Christ is less pathetic than that by Luini, whose children,
under any circumstances, bear something on their little features
like the shadow of an approaching sorrow. Both Luini and Murillo
may be said to be feminine in the character of their Art, in which
doubtless lies the key to the choice of the subject. For who could
Infant Christ sleeping on Cross. (Frauceschini.)
paint the cheek of childhood more truly than Titian or Velasquez ?
yet, a lonely infant — timidly yet earnestly self-conscious, with all
the beauty of infancy, and yet with that expression which shows
Him to be a predestined sacrifice, and a voluntary one — is not the
subject which either of these great masters would have depicted.
A boy by Velasquez is always the incipient man, strong, healthy,
magnificent, but with that unmistakeable stamp of self-will which
has no affinity with self-sacrifice.
Later painters of the Italian school have turned the idea of the
Child Christ into a mere sentimentalitv. With Guido and Frances-
THE CHILD CHRIST. 381
chini He lies asleep on His Cross dreaming of His Passion. This
is a lovely infant, as in our woodcut (No. 272), perfect in colour
and limb, but nothing more. We need the pathetic contrast
between His innocence and His predestined fate to convey the
religious feeling.
Northern Art can hardly be said to have set its stamp on this
subject, unless we except Lucas Cranach, who gives a more par-
ticular meaning to it. The Infant Christ stands on the slab of a
half-open tomb, with the globe and Cross in His hand. Above is
a scroll, i I am the Resurrection and the Life.' On each side are
infantine angels, holding the instruments of the Passion.1
Rubens also has left an example of the subject, in an exquisite
picture, of oval form, in the collection of Baron Steengracht at the
Hague. But though giving the benediction with the little right
hand, no other trace of the pathetic idea is conveyed by the beauti-
ful boy, who sits on a red velvet cushion.
1 Guhl and Gaspar, vol. iii. pi. xxL
382 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
INTERCESSION.
THE wounds of our Lord, as the types of the doctrine of Inter-
cession, afforded the preachers of the Middle Ages a legitimate,
however exaggerated, theme for flights of fancy. Sermons for
hearers of excitable temperaments could be drawn from every
detail of Christ's sacrifice. But the painter's translation of them
into positive forms showed, as usual, their unfitness for his pur-
pose. The class of pictures which go by the name of Intercession
are distasteful to the eye from the very absence of all imagina-
tion. The Scripture words, ; He ever liveth to make intercession
for us,' are poorly rendered by a prostrate, and often abject, figure
of our Lord, holding up one hand, and with the other pointing to
His side. In these pictures the Saviour is always accompanied
by His Mother, who is also urging her plea for the salvation of
mankind by exposing the breast from which our Lord, as an
infant, derived sustenance. The joint idea is expressed by St.
Bernard in one of his sermons : ' 0 man ! thou hast direct access
to God, where the Mother pleads to the Son, and the Son to the
Father. The Mother shows her breast to the Son, the Son His
wounds and His side to the Father. There can be no repulse
where there are such tokens of love.' These words belong to the
12th century, when painters, however backward in technical
respects, were far truer to the instincts which limit their subjects,
and when, also, the idea of baring the Virgin's breast to the gaze
of the spectator would scarcely have found favour. They therefore
found no embodiment till the decline of religious Art in the 15th
century, at which time Molanus mentions the frequent representa-
tion of the above passage.1 We give an illustration from Hans
Baldung Grim (woodcut, No. 273), which, however rude in forms,
is true to the usual conception of the subject. The figure below
shows that it is a votive work.
There is a picture of Intercession in the Munich Gallery by
Filippiiio Lippi, where the refinement of Italian feeling is seen iu
1 Page 92.
INTERCESSION.
383
273
Intercession. (Hans Baldung Grim.)
covering the Virgin's breast with a light drapery. In this case the
two figures are on this earth, and the Almighty appears above in
the clouds. Dr. Waageii (vol. i. p. 184) mentions a miniature in the
British Museum belonging to an English manuscript of 1420-39.
He describes a dying man, with an angel at the head receiving
the soul. ' Above is the Virgin, with the crown on her head,
supplicating Christ by the breast which nourished Him, and which
she is baring, to have mercy on the soul of the dying man. Christ,
in His turn, is showing His wounds, in token of granting His
Mother's request,' to the First Person of the Trinity, who is raising
384 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
His right hand in benediction. In most instances, however, the
painters have introduced the anomaly of making the Virgin thus
urging her plea to the Father, and not to the Son, which is a
departure from all principles of Mariolatry.'
THE HISTORY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 385
THE HISTORY OF THE TRUE CROSS.
THIS is a subject which has given employment to Art in various
forms, from the grand frescoes on the walls of lofty choirs to the
rude woodcuts which illustrate the early-printed book called
6 Historia Crucis.' The legends which make up the history of the
Cross, and which include its origin, discovenr, or invention, as it is
called, and its exaltation, though agreeing in general ideas, differ
somewhat in detail. We shall endeavour to weave them together.1
The beginning of the story is contemporary with our first father.
One day, when Adam was weary with digging for roots, he leant
upon his spade to rest himself; and he began to think of his long
life and hard labour, and of the cares and pains which would be the
lot of his descendants ; and he felt tired of life, and longed to die.
Then he called his son Seth, and said, ' Go to the gates of Eden,
and ask the angel who guards the tree of life to send me some of
the oil of mercy which God promised me when He thrust me out of
Paradise.' And Seth replied, ' Father, I am ready, but show me
first the way/ And Adam answered, i Go by that valley which
lies towards the East. There you will find a green path, along
which you will see footsteps ; for where my feet and those of your
mother passed, on leaving Paradise, no grass has since grown.'
And Seth went as Adam bade him, and he found the green paths
and his parents' footsteps, and he was astonished at the splendour
which shone from the gates of Paradise. And when the angel
asked him what was his errand, Seth replied, 'Adam, my father, is
weary of life. It is he who sends me to ask for the oil of mercy
which God promised to him.' Then the angel said, ' The oil of
mercy which God promised to Adam can only be given after five
thousand five hundred years shall have elapsed ; but take these three
1 The chief sources will be found in * La Ldgende Doree,' translated from Jacob de Vo-
ragine, and in a Dutch work, ' Gerschiedenis van het heylighe Cruys,' recently translated
and facsimiled by M. Berjeau, in which quotations from an ancient French MS. of the
13th century, preserved in the British Museum, are given.
VOL. II. 3 D
336 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
seeds, they will bear fruit for the good of mankind.' And he gave
him three seeds like unto apple-pips, taken, it is believed, from the
same tree of which Adam had eaten. And he told Seth to put them
under his father's tongue after his death, for that, on the third day
after his return, Adam would die. Then Seth came back by the
same way, and told Adam all that the angel had said. Whereupon
Adam became quite merry, and laughed for the first time since his
disobedience ; and he lifted up his voice and said, ' 0 God I I have
lived enough; take my soul from me.' And on the third day he
died, and Seth buried him in the Valley of Hebron, and placed the
three seeds under his tongue.
According to another account, the angel gave Seth a branch of
the tree of life, and he placed that upon his father's grave. To
follow, however, the history of the three seeds, they quickly sprung
up into three saplings, significant of the Holy Trinity, afterwards
miraculously united into one. This sapling Moses found in the
Valley of Hebron ; this it was that turned the waters of Marah
tweet; with this also he struck the rock a second time, without
calling upon God, for which he was not permitted to enter the
Promised Land. From the hands «>f Moses the tree passed into
those of David, who also worked wonders, unrecorded in Scripture,
with it, and finally brought it to Jerusalem, where he planted it
in his garden, and built a wall round it. And there it grew and
was forgotten when David was old. And Solomon, his son, when
he was building the Temple, seeing the tree that it was large and
strong, cut it down for one of the beams of the Temple. But the
workmen were sore puzzled, for nothing could make it fit into its
destined place — sometimes it was too long, sometimes too short.
At length they threw it aside, and it lay unheeded for some years.
Then there came a woman, Sibylla by name (in allusion to the
Sybil), and she sat down to rest herself upon it, and suddenly
her clothes took fire, and, rising up, she prophesied that this beam
should be for the destruction of the Jews, and those that were round
her flung the tree into a pond or stream, where it rose to the surface
and formed a bridge by which all wayfarers passed. At length the
Queen of Sheba came to visit Solomon, and was about to cross this
bridge, when, seeing in a vision its future destination, she knelt
down and worshipped it, and, refusing to walk over it, she took off
THE HISTORY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 387
fr^ _
her sandals and forded the stream. And she told King Solomon
that on this holy wood would hang One who should be the Saviour
of Adam and all his posterity. Thereupon Solomon took the
beam and overlaid it with gold and silver, and placed it over the
door of the Temple, that all who entered therein might bless it.
And there it remained till the wicked reign of Abijah, the son
of Rehoboam, who, coveting the silver and gold upon it, stript it
bare, after which, to conceal his theft, he had it buried deep in the
earth.
[A. J. — And after many years, when all this was forgotten, it
happened that a well was dug just over the spot where the tree
of mercy was buried, which was called the pool of Bethesda;
and because of the healing virtue in the wood, as well as by the
power of the angel, the waters of that well cured all the sick
and afflicted.
And when the time of the Passion of our Lord drew near, the
beam of wood was cast up to the surface of the water, and floated
there ; which the Jews seeing, and that it was fit for their purpose,
they took it, and fashioned from it the Cross on which they sus-
pended the Saviour of the world, and this was the tree of mercy
through which Adam and his posterity were healed and redeemed
from death.]
This account rather interferes with another legend, which affirms
that the Cross of our Lord was made of four different kinds of wood,
the stem being of cypress wood. The reason for this was that the
Jews reckoned that the body of Christ would hang as long as the
Cross would last, and, therefore, they chose the cypress for the
principal portion, as that is known to remain sound both in earth
and water.
[A. J. — After the Crucifixion the Cross was buried deep in the
earth, and remained hidden from the eyes of men for more thau
three hundred years.
When the persecutions and oppressions, through which the ser-
vants of God had been sorely tried, ceased at length, and Constau-
tine and his mother were, through divine interposition, converted
to the faith, the blessed Empress Helena went on a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem to seek the Cross on which our Lord died. Having
arrived there with a great train, she ordered all the wise men of
388 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
A. J.I the Jews to be assembled in her palace. Then they were alarmed,
and said one to another, ' What is this ? Why hath the empress
called us together ? ' But one among them, wiser than the rest,
whose name was Judas, said, ' Know, my brethren, that the
empress hath come hither to discover the Cross on which Jesus
Christ suffered. But take heed that it be not revealed, for, in
the hour that the Cross comes to light, our ancient Law is no
more, and the traditions of our people will be destroyed. My
grandfather Zaccheus taught this to my father Simon, and my
father Simon hath taught me. Moreover, he told me that his
brother Stephen had been stoned for believing in Him who was
crucified, and bid me beware of blaspheming Christ or any of His
disciples.'
So the Jews gave heed to his words, and when the Empress
Helena demanded of them where the Holy Cross lay buried, they
professed ignorance. Then the blessed Helena commanded that
they should all be buried alive. Then, being seized with fear,
they delivered up to her Judas, saying, < Here is a just man,
arid the son of a prophet, who knoweth all things pertaining to our
Law, and who will answer all questions.' So she released them,
retaining Judas in her power, and commanded him to show her
what she desired. But he replied, i Alas ! how should I know of
these things which happened so long before I was born ? ' Then
the empress was filled with anger, and she vowed by the great
name of Him who died on the Cross, that she would have this
obstinate and perverse Jew starved to death. Whereupon, at her
command, he was cast into a dry well, there to perish with hunger.
For six days did he endure the pangs of famine, but on the seventh
day he yielded.
Now it is well known, being written in all the histories, that the
Emperor Hadrian, in mockery of the Christians, had built upon
that sacred spot a temple to the Goddess Venus, so that all who
came to worship there might seem to worship Venus, for which
reason the place had become forsaken and lay desolate. Thither
did Judas lead the empress, and she commanded that the temple
should be wholly destroyed, and every stone removed ; which being
done, Judas began to dig, and when he had dug twenty feet deep,
he found three crosses, all alike, and no man could tell which was
THE HISTORY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 389
A. «/.] the Cross of Christ. And while the empress and Macarius, Bishop
of Jerusalem, who was with her, stood there in doubt, there passed
by the body of a dead man being carried to the grave, and by the
suggestion of Maccarius, he was laid upon the first cross, and then
upon the second, and stirred not. But when he was laid upon the
third, he rose up, restored to life, and went on his way giving
thanks ; while the demons were heard lamenting in the air, because
the kingdom of Satan was destroyed, and the kingdom of Christ
begun upon earth.
Afterwards Judas was baptized, and received the name of Syri-
acus or Quiriacus.
And when Helena found that the nails were not forthcoming,
she prayed, and, at her prayers, they appeared at the surface of the
earth, shining like gold.]
Then the empress, according to her biographers, with rather
ambiguous piety, instead of preserving the Cross of our Lord intact,
divided it into halves. One half she left in Jerusalem, the other
she took to Constantinople, where her son Constantine inserted a
part of it into the head of a statue of himself, and the rest was sent
[to Rome and deposited in the Church of .the S. Croce in Gerusa-
lemme, built on purpose for it.
The nails also she distributed with equal maternal partiality —
one she threw into a dangerous whirlpool in the Adriatic, which
immediately tranquillised the waters; with another she forged a
bit for Constantine's horse, in verification of the mysterious passage
in Zechariah xiv. 20 : i In that day shall be upon the bells (margin,
bridles) of the horses, Holiness unto the Lord ; ' and the third she
placed in his crown.
\_A. J. — The Cross remained at Jerusalem until the year 615,
when Cosroes, King of Persia, coming to Jerusalem, carried it
away as the most precious treasure of the Christians. Then the
Emperor Heraclius, who had been till then an indolent and worth-
less sovereign, was suddenly roused by this indignity, and he raised
a powerful army, and defied Cosroes to battle. When the two
armies met, the two monarch s agreed to decide the fight by single
combat. Heraclius overcame his enemy, and, on his refusing to be
baptized, cut off his head. Then, taking the Holy Cross, he brought
it back with great devotion and joy to Jerusalem. And arriving
390 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
A. J.'\ at the gate on horseback, surrounded by all his attendants, he
sought in vain to enter, for the wall was miraculously closed up.
And as he stood stupified with surprise, an angel appeared and
said, ' When the King of heaven and earth entered through this
gate to suffer for the sins of the world, He entered not with regal
pomp, but barefooted and mounted on an ass.' Then the emperor,
perceiving that it was the sin of pride which had closed up the
gate, shed many tears, and took the crown from his head, and the
shoes from his feet, and all his royal vestments, even to his shirt.
And taking the Cross of our Lord upon his shoulder, the wall
opened before him, and he entered in. Thus after many years was
this precious cross restored to its place, and being erected on an
altar, was exhibited to the people.
Hence the feast of the ' Esaltazione della Croce,' held on Sep-
tember 14, which had first been instituted when St. Helena placed
the Cross on the summit of an altar in A.D. 335.]
This history, the same in general outline as we have given it,
has been treated as a series in frescoes of great interest and
importance by several Italian masters. It is found appropriately
covering the walls of the choir of the Church of S. Croce at
Florence, by the hand of Agnolo Gaddi. These frescoes, though
terribly obscured by dust above, and by injury below, are very
remarkable both as regards Art and legendary history. One of
the most striking of the series are the patients in an hospital,
lying in their beds and drinking water from the Pool of Bethesda.
Another, equally conspicuous, represents the Emperor Heraelius,
in his pomp and vanity, endeavouring to enter in by the gate of
Jerusalem. This is engraved in Ottley's Florentine Art.
Pietro della Francesca also dedicated his pencil to the history
of the Cross in a series of frescoes mentioned by Vasari, in the
Chapel of the Bacci, in the Church of S. Francesco at Arezzo. In
one of these much-obliterated designs occurs the incident of Seth
planting the seeds beneath his father Adam's tongue.
The legend of the Cross continued in vogue till the middle of the
16th century. Frescoes of the subject by the hand of Pomponio
Ainalteo exist at Casarsa and at Baseglia, both in Friuli. At
Casarsa he is supposed to have been assisted by Pordenone.
The history of the Cross is occasionally seen in predella pictures,
THE HISTORY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 391
+
as, for instance, in the picture No. 2 among the specimens of early
Art in the ' Accademia delle Belle Arti ' at Venice.
It occurs also in the German school — a picture by Beham, in the
Munich Gallery (No. 2), in which the invention and identification
of the Cross is given with great detail.
392 HISTORY OF OCR LORD.
THE LAST JUDGMENT.
Ilal. L' ultimo Giudizio. Fr. Le dernier Jugement. Germ. Das jiingste Gericht.
THERE are no examples of Christ conceived as Judge, or of the Last
Judgment, in the early Art of Christianity. It would be difficult
to define the cause for this, though many may be conjectured. That
the early Christians dwelt on the great day of reward and retribution
as a support under persecution, and in the pardonable light of reta-
liation on their persecutors, is evident from the well-known passage
in Tertullian.1 It is true, also, that the Art of which Christianity
first availed itself had in its best days inspired the representation of
Tartarus and the Elysian Fields; but even had that power not passed
away, it may be questioned whether the converts would have availed
themselves of such conceptions of their heaven and hell. As time
advanced, also, and classic Art expired, leaving the world free from
its bondage and its beauty, the popular expectation of the Millen-
nium, which has left its mark on the history of Architecture, may
be supposed to have intruded between the minds of men and the
remoter sense of the end of all things. The reign of Christ on earth
was interpreted to commence with the year 1000, and in this belief
no new edifices of a sacred character were undertaken towards the
close of the 10th century, where old ones were suffered to fall into
decay. This idea embraced the belief in a transformed earth, in
the binding of Satan, and in the first Resurrection, when the saints
should reign with our Lord, but not of that day when Christ should
come to judge the world. At all events, no representation of a Last
Judgment can be indicated in any forms of Art prior to the llth
century, though traces of the anticipation of the Millennium are
observable in miniatures of the 10th century. Nay more, when the
llth century was turned, and men saw that, ' since the fathers fell
asleep, all things continued as they were,' the idea of the Last Judg-
ment became even more indistinct than before, and, in the reaction
i ' You are fond of spectacles, except the greatest of all spectacles, the last and eternal
judgment of the universe.' Tertullian de Spectaculis, c. xxx.
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 393
against what had proved a fallacious dread, doubts arose, we are
told, regarding, not the time, but the doctrine of the general Resur-
rection. It was then that the Church laboured to set forth the cer-
tainties of what theologians called the i Quatuor Novissima,' or Four
Last Things — viz. , Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell, — invoking a
spirit which raised glorious cathedrals, founded a succession of cru-
sades, culminated, in a literary sense, in Dante's ' Inferno,' 'Purga-
torio,' and ' Paradiso,' inspired the ' Dies Irse,' and was embodied in
the form of Art chiefly by representations of the Last Judgment.
These representations, whether in sculpture or painting, have
a traditional place in the symbolism of ecclesiastical architecture.
They are always seen on the West front of the church, either
spread out with all the detail that the subject permits, as on the
Cathedrals of Ferrara and Wells, or in simpler forms, as at Autun,
within the West porch, or in Greek Art on the West wall within
the church ; in any case occupying this position in a typical sense,
for the Church being the type of Heaven, the believer enters it
through the portals of Death and Judgment. Later we find this
subject placed, with more obvious meaning, in the cloisters sur-
rounding a place of interment, as by Orgagna, in the Campo Santo
at Pisa, where one grand fresco represents the triumph of Death ;
another, to which we shall chiefly refer, Judgment and Hell ; *
while a third design for Heaven, never executed, was intended to
make up the ' Four Last Things.' A sign of the same intention is
traceable in the Dance of Death, painted on the walls of the church-
yard at Basle and elsewhere, but generally confined in this form
to the Northern countries of Europe.
A complete representation of the Last Judgment invariably
comprises certain features derived mainly from Scripture. That it
is the Second Person who presides as Judge is an article of our
Faith, founded on His own direct teaching, and embodied in our
creeds and Te Deurn : i We believe that Thou shalt come to be our
judge.' On each side of Him, in most examples, sit the figures of
the Apostles, according to the passage in Luke xxii. 30 : ' That ye
may ... sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.'
These are frequently accompanied by the hierarchies seen in the
Rest of the Church — the patriarchs, prophets, saints, martyrs, &c.
1 Engraved in Kugler's ' Handbook of Italian Paintings.' Part i. p. 146.
VOL. II. 3 E
>394 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
—illustrating the words of St. Paul in 1 Cor. vi. 2 : ' Do ye not
know that the saints shall judge the world? ' Under this category
may be included the seldom absent figures of the Virgin and of
John the Baptist. In the air around are figures of angels holding
the instruments of the Passion. This is probably derived from the
speculations of the early Fathers. For St. Thomas Aquinas, quot-
ing St. Chrysostom, urges that Christ as Judge shall not only
show the marks of His wounds, of which we shall speak presently,
but also exhibit His most reproachful ' exprobratissima ' death.
Other angels, too, are here in a sterner Scriptural sense, for, ' He
shall send His angels, and shall gather together His elect from
the four winds ' (Mark xiii. 27). These bear trumpets to call the
dead from their graves, t For at the last trump the dead shall be
raised. '
Below, therefore, is the earth whence the bodies are rising,
according to the text from Daniel xii. 2 : ' And many of them that
sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life,
and some to shame and everlasting contempt.' Here the dead are
divided into two armies : the blessed as the sheep on the right hand
of the Judge; the condemned as the goats on the left. And, to
make up the awful complement of the Four Last Things, there are
few instances where the joys of heaven are not given in some form,
quaint or typical ; and fewer still where the torments of hell are
not dwelt upon with an ingenuity and circumstantiality which
show that the ancient preachers and painters, often identical,
considered this the clenching argument of the scene.
These are the main features proper to the Latin Church. In the
Greek form, which is stereotyped from an early period, there are con-
spicuous differences, in part traceable to other portions of Scripture.
Here, the Christ is old and haggard. At the foot of His glory are
the winged wheels, the emblems of eternal life, guarded by two
seraphim. An altar is below, on which stand the Cross and the
book ; and from beneath the throne issues a stream of fire, which
divides the good from the bad by an impassable barrier, and leads
into the great lake of flames and brimstone. This is derived chiefly
from the vision of Daniel, who saw the ' Ancient of Days,' whose
4 throne was like the fiery flame, and His wheels as burning fire. A
fiery stream issued and came forth from before Him : thousand
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 395
thousands ministered unto Him, and ten thousand times ten thou-
sand stood before Him : the judgment was set, and the books were
opened' (Daniel vii. 9, 10). The bodies also, in the Greek form,
are not rising from the earth only, but are being given back piece-
meal from the jaws of fishes and sea monsters — ' For the sea gave
up the dead that were in it ' — and also from those of lions and
tigers, or whatever animals have preyed on mankind. The arch-
angel Michael also stands between the two ranks, weighing the souls
in a balance. And, finally, one conspicuous feature is a great
angel, who is folding up a mighty scroll, on which is seen the sun,
moon, and stars : * And the heaven departed as a scroll when it
is rolled together' (Rev. vi. 14). These are the distinguishing
features, as seen in the ancient Church of Murano, executed by a
Greek artist in the 12th century,1 and preserved with amplifica-
tions and exaggerations in the Art of Mount Athos to the present
day.
The subject of the Last Judgment has tested the powers of some
of the greatest and most opposite masters, both North and South
of the Alps. Giotto appropriately led the wajr, with the now
ruined wall-painting in the Chapel of the Arena, at Padua — part
of i the Judgment ' being believed, however, to be the work of his
scholars. The solemn Orgagna followed in the Campo Santo.
The painter most distinct in character from each — Fra Angelico
— has left several versions of the subject, two in the Accademia,
at Florence, one in the Corsini Palace, at Rome, the picture
whence we take our etching, belonging to Lord Dudley, and a
small panel which has perished lately.2 Luca Signorelli derives
much of his reputation from his scenes of the Last Judgment at
Orvieto. Michael Angelo stands alone here, as in every subject
on which he set the stamp of his paganised time and his maniera
terribile. Rogier van der Weyden, the mournful painter of
Brussels, treated the subject with great dignity and reticence, in
a picture at the monastery at Beaune, in Burgundy. Memling is
now believed to have executed the great picture at Dantzic,
formerly attributed to Van Eyck ; while Rubens, like Michael
Angelo, has made the subject rather an occasion for displaying his
1 Lord Lindsay's ' Christian Art,' vol. i. p. 129.
2 Discovered at Ravenna, and lost at sea on its way to England, 1860.
396 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
peculiar powers, than an illustration of the most awful chapter in
Christian Art.
But before entering upon closer description, it is as well to inter-
pose a short explanation in order to meet objections usually raised
in presence of such representations, which, however trivial, are
plausible in character. It appears probable that the two opposite
scenes of the Blessed and the Condemned, though given, from the
necessary conditions of Art, as a simultaneous whole, were originally
intended to be consecutive in time. According to the words of St'.
Paul in 1 Thessalonians iv. 16, ' And the dead in Christ shall rise
first,' it is not absolutely necessary to suppose that the sentences on
each side are being pronounced by the Judge at the same moment.
This may be taken as one answer to the objection urged at the
apparent anomaly of the Apostles seated, and the angels hovering
with looks of unconcern above the sad spectacle offered by despair-
ing sinners. But the more proper reply is, that the moral and
pathos of such religious pictures are meant for us, and not for
those represented in them. No painter has therefore ever ventured
to make the Blessed look, like Lot's wife, behind them, or acknow-
ledging in any way the vicinity of their unhappy brethren. In
this, Art asserts her distinction from other forms of expression.
For poetry may dwell on the mystery of faithful hearts to whom
the joys of heaven may be supposed to be darkened by the sense
of those lost, yet dear; though even Poetry, as we read in the
following lines, may not push the speculation too far : —
Yet pause — if on a castaway
Thy deep affections rest,
And memory live unchanged, could'st thou
In highest heaven be blest ?
Yearning eternally for one
Lost, lost — beyond relief,
Thou in thy light and happiness,
He in his gulf of grief.
Away, dark thought ! too deep and high
For our mind's mortal scan,
Meting the eternal mysteries
With measures made by man.1
1 ' The Dark Thought. Lines and Leaves,' by Mrs. Acton Tindal.
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 397
We will now take the subject of the Last Judgment according to
the Latin type, considering it in its different parts, which have each
a character and interest peculiar to school and time. We begin
with the Person of our Lord.
The idea of Christ in the character of Judge is unapproachable
by the power of imagination, in proportion as it is undeniable to
that of faith. There is no form or expression of mercy, pity, or long-
suffering, which the mind or the mind's eye may not successfully
invoke in picturing the relations of Christ to man ; nay, the sterner
passages of His course on earth, conveying warning and reproof,
may be sympathetically dealt with, for we know that love mingled
with them all. But it is not in poet or painter to conceive Him
stript of this all-pervading quality, and converted from 'the friend
of sinners into the minister of that terrible justice which it is other-
wise His blessed part to avert. It is on this account, from the very
impossibility of thus transforming the object of the Christian's
trust, that the consistent image of Christ as Judge is the most diffi-
cult that an artist can approach. No human feeling must enter
into his conception of this character, not even that sorrow which
becomes an earthly judge at sight of condemned criminals of the
same nature as himself. For the Judge of the whole earth may
as little grieve over those who have trodden Him under foot as He
may exult; otherwise the very fundamental ideas of divine justice,
wisdom, and bliss become unsettled. Christ, therefore, sitting in
judgment, the gentle Son of man transformed into that all-power-
ful impersonation of the inexorable and the impartial by which we
endeavour to define the idea of divine justice, is an abstraction to
which the human mind can give no form. Thus it is that the earlier
representations buried in old manuscripts, or mouldering and muti-
lated on church walls, which, either from incapacity of hand, or
sense of the difficulty, have no expression at all, are far more appro-
priate, and therefore grand, than the highest refinements of riper
Art.
To the superficial glance, the earliest forms of Christ as Judge
may be mistaken for that of Christ in glory (see p. 353). In both
instances He is seen raised above the earth, seated on the rainbow,
or on a throne within a glory. But here the similarity ceases,
for Christ as Judge is not blessing or holding the book, nor is He
398
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
ever accompanied by the symbols of the Four Evangelists. They
have no place on an occasion which proves that their mission of
reconciliation is past. But the chief distinction in the Person of
Christ consists in His showing His wounds, according to the pas-
sage in Revelation i. 7, ' Behold, He cometh with clouds ; and every
eye shall see Him, and they also which pierced Him.' For this
purpose His side is generally left bare, and the two hands are
274 Christ as Judge. (French MS., 12th century. British Museum.)
equally raised, with their pierced palms turned each exactly alike
to the spectator (woodcut, No. 274). In this was set forth the great
theological idea, never absent from the Person of Christ as Judge,
whether in Greek or Latin, early or modern Art — the meaning being
that the wounds conveyed their respective sentences to the assembled
children of men, according as they had previously accepted or re-
jected these signs of the Atonement — 6 to the one the savour of death
unto death, to the others of life unto life ' — the outward aspect of
the Judge being the same to each. This greatly contributed to give
that grand abstract air which befits the embodiment of divine jus-
tice. There is something indescribably fine and awful in this rigid
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 399
fall-front figure, which looks neither to the rigRt nor the- left —
shows no favour and no resentment — but operates as a natural law,
either to the salvation or confusion of those who behold Him. This
was the type of the llth or 12th century. We give an illustration
from a French manuscript in the British Museum (Nero, C. IV.)
We see here the ancient origin of Raphael's figure of the Saviour
in the Disputa.
A lunette, alto relievo, which still exists in the porch of the
Cathedral of Autun, is one of the first instances of the subject,
being supposed to -date from the early part of the llth century.
Here the Christ is fully clothed, so as to cover His side, and the
two hands are simply extended downwards. The head is gone, but
we' may be sure it corresponded with the solemn impartiality of the
hands.
2 re
The 13th century saw a change, slight but important in this type,
derived from the Greek Church, and observable in the mosaics in
the roof of the Baptistery at Florence, by Andrea Tafi. Here the
Judge is no longer the same outwardly to each, and the difference
in the two parties simply that of previous acceptance or rejection
of Him, but it is He who is accepting the one and rejecting the
other — for one hand is open to welcome, ' Come, ye blessed of my
Father ' (woodcut, No. 275) ; and the other < pronated,' as if to
repulse, 'Depart from me, ye cursed' (woodcut, No. 276). This was
an aim at closer literal adherence to a particular text, but the larger
Scriptural idea has suffered by it. It opened the door also to changes
for which no Scripture can be alleged. In the 14th and 15th
centuries, and from that time till now, our Lord's Person has been
invested with actions and sentiments totally at variance with the
primary idea of impartiality. In Giotto, Orgagna, and even in
Fra Angelico, He is a Prosecutor, not a Judge. Each of these
painters makes him turning with more or less severity towards the
400 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
Condemned; His right hand, by a curious inversion of the Greek
arrangement, being lifted in anger against them instead of in
favour to the Blessed. Christ, in short, has here declined from a
grand abstraction into an individual Person. He is splendidly
drawn in Orgagna, where He sits like a Judge in wrath ; He is
exquisitely pathetic in Fra Angelico, who conceives Him as a Judge
in sorrow — His heavenly pomp is increased — He is surrounded with
a glory of myriads of angels — Art lavishes her ripening powers to
do Him homage ; yet, in proportion as she invests Him with per-
sonal feelings towards those before Him, does the solemnity and
reality of the occasion diminish. Strange conclusions, indeed, might
be drawn as to the administration of earthly tribunals, when the
chief teachers of the simple could thus conceive the Almighty Judge
of the Universe as an interested party, and further interested only
in adding to the misery of those who are already punished '* with
everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord.'
These were the degenerate tendencies, as regards Christ's Person,
on the South side of the Alps. On the North, they neither erred so
grossly, nor so magnificently. Christ shows no personal feeling
either ways in Rogier van der Weyden, or in Memling, except that
expressed by the upraised right and the depressed left hand. But
He is invested with a mixture of reality and symbolism very much
at cross purposes. The Italian halo of angelic forms is replaced by
an over-natural rainbow, which, in its primary colours and comple-
mentary gradations, is no longer a seat for a Being in human form
to which the imagination consents. This is the more striking from
the introduction of symbolic features, always a disfiguring solecism
in Northern conceptions of the subject. We mean the sword pro-
jecting on the left, and the lily on the right, as in Memling's
picture, intended, it may be supposed, as emblems of the guilt and
innocence of those over whom they are respectively suspended.
These generally add to their inherent incongruity the further crime
of gigantic size, being larger than the angels around them, giving
a theatrical air to the scene, which points to their probable deriva-
tion— the religious plays of the contemporary period. The inscrip-
tions also, * Venite benedicti patris mei/ &c., and i Discenclite a
me maledicti,' &c., on each side, and of the same exaggerated dimen-
sions, are doubtless traceable to the same source.
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 401
The sacred persons surrounding the Lord next claim attention.
The Apostles are seen from the earliest times seated on thrones on
each side, according to the text. In a MS. in the British Museum,
where the scene of the Last Judgment occupies several pages, the
Apostles are given in an arbitrary arrangement, so as to compress
them into the required space. This shows how necessary their
presence was considered, even when the component parts could
only be given piecemeal. In Orgagna they appear in their due
places, seated formally and at reverent distance on each side below
Christ — solemn lay figures, grandly draped, each, excepting St.
Peter, with a book in hand. Here they preserve their impartial
judicial character far better than the principal figure. The same
propriety marks their bearing in Fra Angelico's several pictures.
In Rogier van der Weyden's Last Judgment, at Beaune, they seem
to forget the intention with which they were thus elevated, the
second Apostle on the left expressing, with upraised hands and
drooping eyelids, his deep commiseration for the sinners below.
Generally, however, they sit ranged behind the Judge, as with
Memling, apparently conferring together, sometimes so comfort-
ably disposed as to remind us rather too forcibly of spectators in
an amphitheatre. Under Michael Angelo's all-transforming hand
alone, do the Apostles utterly lose their sacred character, and
appear literally and metaphorically unfrocked. We seek in vain
for any expression of their peaceful calling in these naked pugilists,
who gather round their equally un draped and gigantic chief, as if
waiting his dismissal on errands of violence. Magnificent as
specimens of bone and muscle, knowledge and drawing, are this
apostolic band ; but, in the sense of Christian Art, very unfit com-
pany for the Virgin, who shrinks back, as if more in terror of them
than of the scenes going on below.
As to their order of arrangement there seems to be no traditional
rule, except that St. Peter, known by his keys, is always first on
the right hand of Christ. By the 15th century other saints alone,
or the whole hierarchy of patriarchs, prophets, saints, martyrs, &c.,
are introduced with them. In our etching from Lord Dudley's
picture, St. Stephen, the protomartyr, and St. Dominic, are seen
on one side, and a pope, probably St. Gregory, on the other. In
Fra Angelico's larger Last Judgment, in the Accademia at Florence,
VOL. II. 3 F
402 HISTORY OF OCR LORD.
the patriarchs and prophets sit in the highest row, headed by Adam
on one side, and by Abel with his lamb on the other, while St.
Dominic and St. Francis terminate the lower row occupied by the
Apostles. In Rogier van der Weyden's picture, the ranks of
judges are rather prematurely swelled by some who bad still to be
judged themselves, namely, by living persons — Pope Eugenius IV.,
Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, his Duchess, and other in-
dividuals not known to fame, even in this world.
The presence of the Virgin on the right of her Son, and of St.
John the Baptist on the left, is derived from the same Scriptural
authority which places other sacred personages there, * The saints
shall judge the world.' The Virgin is not invariably seen in early
examples — as, for instance, not in the MS. alluded to before in the
British Museum, but she precedes St. John in date, who never
appears without her. Art gives ample evidence that it is in the
character of colleague in judgment, or, as it is called, ' Assessor,'
and not in that subsequently adopted of Intercessor, that she
occupies the highest place after our Lord. In Orgagna's fresco
her position as judge is unmistakeable : she sits on the rainbow,
invested with equal radiance, and in a glory only smaller than that
of her Son. One hand is meekly laid on her breast, the other in
her lap. Her whole action is expressive of deference towards Him,
and not of personal feeling towards the Condemned. Here John
the Baptist appears among the Elect below. It may be considered
that the incongruity of this elevation was felt even in the 14th
century, for the Virgin does not appear in any other instance that
we are aware of in the same equality of position. In the Last
Judgment by Fra Angelico, she is always seated on the right hand
of Christ, on a level with the Apostles ; St. John is always intro-
duced opposite to her on the left by this painter, nor does he ever
fail afterwards where the Virgin appears. By this time the expres-
sion of the sacred personages surrounding Christ seems to have
merged from a judicial into an adoring intention — the position of
the Virgin and St. John with folded palms, or hands crossed on
the breast, being, like that of the Apostles and saints, indicative of
Worship and Praise. This change may account for the prominence
henceforth given to the Baptist, who, as the Precursor, belongs to
scenes where the glorification of Christ is intended. It would be
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 403
difficult to say where precisely the further change from the attitude
of Praise to that of Intercession began ; doubtless the alteration in
the character of Christ Himself led to it, for till He 'appears as
Prosecutor, instead of Judge, no room for intercession could be
found. Once introduced, however, the idea became so stereotyped,
that even where the judicial and impartial aspect is restored to our
Lord, the Yirgin and Baptist show by actions of supplication the
eager desire to alter the Divine decrees. This, like all heresies in
doctrine, acts greatly to the prejudice of Art ; it is no longer the
Last Judgment, where two figures thus appeal against the verdict
of the Judge. On some occasions even the Yirgin is represented
exposing her breast to the sight of Christ, and also to that of the
spectator — as in the subject called Intercession (p. 382) ; but here
still more indefensibly, as it is for the purpose of diverting the
course of Divine law. It would be highly presumptuous to claim
this as Protestant criticism — on the contrary, pious writers of the
Roman Catholic Church have not failed, here as well as in other
instances, to defend the sacred Mother of God from the imputation
thus cast on her, and remind painters that the Last Judgment will
be a place not for mercy but for justice.1
We next consider the angels who attend this scene in different
capacities. They may be divided into three classes — the one hold-
ing the instruments of the Passion, the other with their trumpets
calling the dead from their graves, and the third standing in the
centre holding the balance, or adjudging the bodies as they emerge
to their allotted sides. The first were intended originally to assist
the theological idea by which the dead were judged according
to their previous acceptance or rejection of our Lord's Cross
and Passion. In early forms of Art they stand on clouds with
folded wings, in solemn rows beneath the Judge, holding forth
the crown of thorns, the nails, the scourge, the spear and lance,
and even the bucket which held the vinegar. This soon gave
way to their more picturesque treatment above the judgment-seat,
where they hover, in airy forms, to the better rounding of the
picture, though still intent on displaying the insignia of the Passion.
This, however, depended on the space over the Judge. In Fra
Angelico, where the heavenly conclave mount to the top of the
1 Molanus de Historia SS. Imaginutn, p. 524.
404
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
composition, an angel with the Cross alone — as an epitome of all
the instruments of the Passion — stands below the feet of Christ.
As Art expanded in material forms and degenerated in sentiment,
277 ' Angels in Last Judgment. (Orgagna. Campo Santo, Pisa.)
the office of these angels became more burdensome or more frolic-
some. Instead of the mere typical forms of our Lord's suffering, a
cross large enough to have borne Him and a column of equal
dimension are hoisted into the air, either to their evident embar-
rassment or to their boisterous delight. Both effects are visible in
Michael Angelo's Last Judgment.
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 405
More awful to the imagination are those angelic beings who,
hovering in headlong postures between earth and heaven, sound the
resistless Trump of Doom. These are never absent from the true
type of the Last Judgment, summoning from the four winds the
scattered millions of the human family, who cannot rise till they
hear that sound. Sometimes two only are seen with their diverg-
ing instruments, immediately under the foot of the Judge — as in
Orgagna (woodcut, No. 277) and Fra Angelico. Sometimes they
bray forth their terrific notes directly over the graves, which yawn
obedient to the sound. No painter has ever imagined a sublimer
group of that mingled spiritual power and earthly feeling of which
the finest touches of Art are composed than this we here give, so
often described, by Orgagua. Above is the grand angel of Judg-
ment, holding forth the scrolls inscribed with welcome and repulse.
On each side are two winged messengers poised headlong with their
tubes of fierce reveillee, and below is a form of tremendous import
— an angel unnerved with what man has to endure, and cowering
like a noble and frightened animal at the sights and sounds below
him. In this figure the painter, consciously or unconsciously,
has embodied the awe of his own mind at the scene he had con-
jured up.
And now we turn to the spectacle of the rising and risen dead —
the true centre of interest to us, for, however grotesque and extra-
vagant the scene, we seldom fail to make good their affinity to us,
were it only by the curiosity with which we gaze upon them. They
are emerging from the earth, whether a grave or a tomb, the
simple idea of the Resurrection being all that Western Art seeks
to express. According to ancient tradition, the dead were to rise
in the valley of Jehoshaphat — the schoolmen, however, thus dis-
posed of the particular locality : i Does not a valley imply a neigh-
bouring mountain ? ' says St. Thomas Aquinas, question 88 ; ' the
valley of Jehoshaphat therefore means the earth, and the mountain
heaven.' In sculpture, where no scenery can be given, the Resur-
rection is most intelligibly expressed by the opening of tombs and
monuments. Thus in Orvieto we see the upper slabs of the monu-
ments upheaved by the movement of the suddenly reanimated
creatures beneath them ; some of them already out, some in the
act of emerging. The same appears in the sculpture on the West
406 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
front of Wells Cathedral — the grandest form of the Resurrection,
perhaps, that Art has preserved — executed by an unknown hand
nearly a century before that of Orvieto — being completed in 1242.
These works will bear comparison with Niccolo Pisano, who was
born in 1200, and are far superior to those by Giovanni Pisano,
the sculptor of Orvieto. Their remarkable beauty was first pointed
out by Flaxman, and has since been the subject of the late Mr.
Cockerell's learned and elegant pen.1 The rising dead here, with
grand simplicity of architectonic arrangement, occupy a series of
niches running in a rich band along the front of the building, and
around the North and South towers. Each niche contains a tomb
with one or more figures, forming a separate and perfect whole.
Thus the idea of individual responsibility has been better preserved
than in the crowded juxtaposition seen in most pictures ; while, at
the same time, little episodes appear not often observable elsewhere.
Thus a tomb is represented where three have slept together — one
flings his arms aloft in the first comprehension of his bliss ; the
second piously helps the third figure to rise, the imagination is left
to suggest the earthly bond thus fondly remembered and renewed,
for the figures, according to a convention always observable in Last
Judgments, present no great diversity of age. It was decided by
the schoolmen that infancy and old age would alike disappear from
the awful scene, and that the bodies would all belong to that mezzo
termine in life when humanity has ceased to acquire strength and
not begun to lose it.2
In painting, the commoner idea of the graveyard prevails. The
straight formal perspective of open pits down the centre of the pic-
ture in Fra Angelico, shows the familiar forms of the convent ceme-
tery. In Orgagna a few irregular holes are seen in the foreground.
Over these stand the archangels clad in heavenly armour, who, with
prince-like gestures, grandly courteous, or haughtily severe, yet in
each devoid of all personal feeling, assign the rising dead to their
respective sides (woodcut. No. 278). No chance that any unsancti-
fied soul should elude their angelic penetration, and enter Paradise
without the wedding garment. A reprobate soul, only half-way
risen on the right, is sternly motioned to cross over to the left. A
1 Iconography of the West front of Wells Cathedral, by Charles Robert Cockerel! R.A
2 St. Thomas Aquinas. Quest. 81. Hagenbach, p. 131.
THE LAST JUDGMENT.
407
graceful youth, risen on the left, is taken gently by the arm and
shown his blessed destiny on the right. In the centre rises a
bearded and crowned figure, of whose fate we are left uncertain.
It is King Solomon, the wisest of men, the latter days of whom are
a mystery in the annals of grace. The painter, it is said, wished to
278
Part of Last Judgment. (Orgagna. Campo Santo.)
show his perplexity as to his destiny, yet a slight inclination of
the figure to the right gives hope of his election. In Luca Signor-
elli's Last Judgment — in the Chapel of the Madonna di S. Brizio,
in the Cathedral at Orvieto — the rising dead show that freedom
from conventional forms which may be looked for from a painter
of such originality, while the display of his own peculiar powers
naturally dictated the arrangement. The dead are here straining and
408 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
struggling, with fine anatomical development, to extricate them-
selves from the earth. It is a task of strength, and each a Hercules,
as he bends his freshly- awakened forces to it. Here, too, is an
original thought which has further favoured the great master's
power ; for, while all are nude, some of the dead are not even
clothed with flesh, but rise in empty skeleton forms — some, grim
figures, standing whole-length ; others with only the skull protrud-
ing from the ground, and the sightless caverns of the eye already
turned upward to the heavenly summons. Among Michael Angelo's
rising dead also the skeleton is seen, though not so frequently.
Luca Signorelli's Last Judgment has the peculiarity of having
been commenced more than half a century before by the painter the
most opposite in character of Art to himself — namely, by Fra
Angelico, who executed the figure of Christ. The distance between
the two painters is increased by this figure, which is more than
usually tame, and not happy in expression. For Christ raises His
right hand with a reprobating gesture, while the other is embar-
rassed with a globe so large as to give the look of considerable
inconvenience to the bearer. Michael Angelo is supposed to have
derived the action of the right hand of his Christ from this figure,
though giving to it a violence and a vindictiveness which would have
startled the pious Dominican brother. Michael Angelo's concep-
tion of the Divine Judge may be considered the ne plus ultra of all
that is most opposed to a Christian's idea, for even the dignity of
a pagan deity is lost in the muscular vehemence of the figure. His
Last Judgment, however, has been too often and well described to
need more than general allusion here.
To return to the rising Dead. In this place, over the opening
graves in the centre, is usually seen the archangel Michael, whose
office it is to weigh the souls. • This is taken from Byzantine Art,
where it still continues a stereotyped idea. The Northern schools
adopted it. It is seen in Rogier van der Weyden and Memling.
In the picture by the latter a soul is in each balance — one in atti-
tude of praise, as the scale sinks heavy with our Lord's imputed
merits ; the other with gestures of despair, as it rises * light as
vanity on the weights.'
In the Cathedral at Autun, the balance is held by the hand of the
Father emerging from the clouds. An angel stands by, with looks
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 409
of ineffable tenderness, ready to receive the ransomed, while a
gigantic demon helps the light side to kick the beam. We will
follow at first the sad fate of those souls who find themselves in that
terrible category from which there is no escape. The dramatic
pow^r of Orgagna tells with awful vividness in this portion of the
greatX picture. Angel and archangel, with lightning motion and
swords\ of flames, are barring the passage of the weeping and wail-
ing sinjners, and driving them to their fiery doom. Here are kings
and potentates— probably intended for ' those who made Israel to
sin '—/wringing their hands. A High Priest, Caiaphas-like, is
tearing his garments. Here are monks and nuns, guilty couples,
hiding their faces, the -weaker vessel upbraiding the stronger ;
while fearful hooks and dreadful claws, projected from the fiery
abyss, fasten upon those nearest. Thus, a female figure, who
clings vainly to a man for help, is caught behind by those coils of
hair with which she had lured souls to destruction ; again, in the
foreground, a commanding-looking regal woman with both hands
seeks to release her daughter, it may be, on whose dress behind two
monster-hands have fastened.
As for Fra Angelico, there is a simplicity even in his conception
of the Condemned, which tells of the man. Many of them, as we
see in the etching, are like naughty children, roaring and crying,
and fighting too. For in the centre are a man and woman, who in
life did each other no good, each clutching the other by the hair in
unmistakeable hostility. The great clerical crime of his time is
told by the bags of money suspended round the necks of three
different churchmen, who are being hurried to their doom by
demons, one of whom has grappled a priest thus laden, and holds
up his cardinal's hat in exultation. But even the demons are not
malicious-looking enough for their tasks, being little more than
the magnified cats and dogs of S. Marco, painted in different
colours to disguise them. One of them appears strictly to have
caught a Tartar — for a figure, seemingly that of a soldier, and
armed with a sword, has turned upon his tormentor, a fat fiend,
who is quite thrown off his guard by the novelty of the proceed-
ing. This strange feature occurs in the larger Last Judgment
in the Accademia at Florence.
Altogether, the structure and physiognomy of the demon world,
VOL. II. 3 G
410
HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
as conceived in most representations of the Last Judgment, do not
show a very deep philosophy as to the expression of evil ; horns and
tail, talons and tusks, were traditional and easy; but, for true
malignity, there is. nothing like the human face and figure through
which all the demon glares. This was the view taken by Luca
Signorelli and Michael Angelo, who modified the horror or the
burlesque of the theme in proportion as they applied to it the
extraneous interest of artistic power. If scenes of wretched beings
in the grasp of fiends can be tolerable to the eye, it stands to
reason that it can only be for the sake of the Art in which they are
279
Group from Last Judgment. (Luca Signorelli. Orvieto.)
invested. With both these great masters this portion is a trophy
of their particular excellence, though at the same time it must be
remembered that the germ of most of their thoughts may be traced
to works of an earlier time. Luca Signorelli led the way in falling
figures of stupendous power, hurled below by the fiat of the arch-
angel. On the same level are demons with bat-like wings taking
charge with terrible irony of the weaker sex (woodcut, No. 279).
We give an illustration of one group, unsurpassed in Satanic
invention. This fair sinner is only thus carefully conveyed to be
cast below among the crowd of struggling Condemned who are
being bound by their captors previous to the last fatal plunge. In
front lies a wretched woman, perhaps intended for the same as
seen above on the demon's back, whom, with one foot on her head,
THE LAST JUDGMENT.
411
her tormentor is about to splice like a bundle in a running noose
(woodcut, No. 280.)
Michael Angelohas also groups of demons bearing the Condemned
below, which are unsurpassable in power, and which are among
those subjects to which his tremendous Art was most sympatheti-
2SO
Group from Last Judgment. (Luca Signorelli. Orvieto. )
cally applied. They are well known ; nevertheless we remind the
reader of one group which hangs above the boat steered by Charon
across the flood. Michael Angelo's Last Judgment may be
instanced as the only one which in this portion of the composition
is taken directly from Dante.
We pass on unwillingly to the extreme left side, which may be
said to have gone out of fashion at the period of Luca Signorelli
412 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
and Michael Angelo ; but which, previously to these great masters,
was too often occupied by a class of composition scripturally,
morally, and pictorially indefensible, and which the last reason
alone should have sufficed to forbid to painters. That such dis-
gusting horrors as are embodied in the so-called ' Inferno,' which
represents the last of the Four ' Novissima,' are not warranted by
a single word of Scripture, maybe safely declared without provoking
any controversial criticism. Morally speaking, they are equally
unjustifiable. We may be sure that in those normal instincts
which inspire emotion, human nature was the same when these
pictures were executed as it is now. We still look (those who
glance beyond the surface at all) into the joys of these Blessed,
and the despair of these Eejected, with an interest and sympathy
not affected by the flight of time and the passing of this world's
fashion; but who was ever edified, or even frightened, at the
hideous hobgoblinary of what the Church was pleased to set forth
as the Christian idea of hell ? Far more probably have such repre-
sentations helped to swell the very ranks of perdition, by fostering
the natural cruelty of the unregenerate eye, and by ministering to
the relish always felt by the lowest of mankind for sights of
brutality and horror. That such forms of Art should have grown
up among Orientals, proverbially indifferent to human life and
suffering, is intelligible, however detestable ; but how such abomin-
able revelries of wickedness should have found favour in the more
civilised West, and painters have been persuaded to degrade them-
selves by their perpetration, is difficult to comprehend. The climax
of the abuse of Art in this form, by Taddeo Bartoli, in the Duomo
at S. Gimignano, has called down the severe rebukes of the Canonico
Pecori.1 As regards Orgagna, he may be said to have vindicated
his dignity by leaving the Inferno to his inferior brother, Bernardo;
while Fra Angelico, who is the last who gave it in any work of
importance (see etching), stands excused for his somewhat
mitigated Chamber of Horrors on the score of obedience.
Dante is generally made accountable for this portion of the
Last Judgment. But it would be, in the first place, the greatest
error to conclude that any paiiiter is justified in taking from any
source subjects which the instincts of his particular Art command
i Storia di S. Gimignano, p. 509.
THE LAST JUDGMENT. 413
him to reject ; and, secondly, the grossest insult to the divine poet,
as it is the purest falsity to assert that these pictorial atrocities
were derived from him. For there is evidence from remains still
existing that they were imported into Western Art more than a
century before Dante was born.1 It was he rather who recognised in
the pictures and brutal popular representations of hell in his day,2
materials — transposed and re-created by his genius — adapted to the
highest order of Poetry. Dante here followed his instincts, as much
as the painters belied theirs — thus giving to their scandalous posi-
tive images the legitimate sublimity and decorum of the horrible
in necessarily vague, however circumstantial description. Instead,
therefore, of these subjects being taken from him, the only interest
they can excite in a pure mind is the fact of their being in a partial
sense illustrated by his words. It is thus only that we can endure
to look on the three-faced giant Lucifer with a sinner in each jaw,
of which Judas is the chief; or on the cleft bodies of Arius and
Mahomet thus punished for their sins of schism ; or on the differ-
ent compartments of infernal torments in which Orgagna, Fra
Angelico, and others have stored the ' avaricious,' the ' gluttonous,'
the i irascible,' &c., whom Dante, with a far higher sense of moral
justice, has placed only in Purgatory. Nor even with this source
of collateral interest can we endure to look at them long. Where
so many glorious and pious works have been hidden under white-
wash, or more completely destroyed by the Church at whose behest
they were executed, it is strange that such pictures as these should
have been preserved, to the disgrace of Art, the scandal of the
pious, and, it must be added, the corruption of the simple.
Let us now return to that blessed company of just men made
perfect, far more calculated to win to paths of virtue than those
just contemplated are to scare from ways of destruction.
Once admitted on the elect side, the blissful scene begins. No
one has expressed this first sense of salvation with such tender
1 The same class of Inferno is seen on the Cathedral of Ferrara, and in churches in
France. See Mr. Scharf's lecture on a picture in Gloucester Cathedral. Archseologia,
vol. xxxvi.
2 Canto xxvi. v. 9. Dante here alludes to the fall of a wooden bridge over the Arno
at Prato, where a large multitude were assembled to witness the representation of hell
and of the infernal torments, in which many lives were lost.
414 HISTORY OF OUR LORD.
fervour as the angelic painter of Fiesole. Surely the cell of one
who could thus conceive the happiness of ransomed spirits must
have been transfigured with a foretaste of ecstasj'. We see here,
in fact, the visions which visited the humble world-renouncing
monk — angels are seen welcoming those created but little lower
than themselves, with sweet gestures of kindness ; but it is upon
the poor Brother with shaven crown and woollen habit that
the tenderer angelic embrace is bestowed. In various parts of
the crowd the poor Friar is seen thus fondly received, while —
by a poetic justice pardonable in one who had refused the archi-
episcopate of Florence, and who affirmed that the only dignity
he sought was to avoid hell and reach Paradise — cardinals and
bishops are seen wending their way along the heavenward path
without such rapturous demonstrations. The throng of happy
spirits contains all classes — the citizen, the soldier, the crowned
woman, the youthful damsel ; but the most touching episodes all
refer to clerical and conventual sacrifices. Here two brothers —
one a priest, the other a layman — walk along, enfolded by each
other's arms, rejoicing in reunion ; there a youthful couple stand
with looks of purest love, and palms clasped together, his shaven
head and convent garb telling the tale why their hands were
denied to be joined in life. But there are no tenderer ties set
forth in this place of blessed meetings : — the pious monk did not
dream of husbands and wives, of parents and children ; or, if such
visions crossed his mind, as they must have done, the needful
discipline of conventual edification suppressed their utterance as
inexpedient.
In the Northern schools, and in sculpture generally, the souls are
represented as undraped. This admitted of another feature of
Scriptural derivation. Memling and others show the Blessed as
receiving their robes of righteousness at the gate of Paradise, on
the extreme right, where angels stand ready to invest them. In
other cases, of which Luca Signorelli is an example, a crown is
given (woodcut, No. 281). In many instances St. Peter with his
keys, as the proper guardian of the Celestial Gate, is welcoming
them. This occurs in the Autun bas-relief, before referred to.
Here, in the quaint and innocent facetiae of the llth century, he is
lifting the naked souls represented as little children — i for of such
:-->ing to the, Earl of- Dudley.
THE LAST JUDGMENT.
415
is the kingdom of heaven ' — into the windows of a building which
sets forth that Father's house, in which there are many mansions.
In other cases of sculpture — the Cathedral of Ferrara, for instance
— Heaven is given under the form of Abraham's bosom, who sits
on the right side with little souls in his lap. In Memling's Last
281
Angel crowning the Blessed. (L. Signorelli. Orvieto.)
Judgment the Redeemed are passing into a regular church, with
angel musicians hymning their welcome from seats in the architec-
ture above the porch. With Fra Angelico it is an Italian gateway,
and the Blessed, who have been conducted so far in a demure and
beautiful dance of angels, are here lifted from their feet, and seen
flying towards the light through the portal.
At this portal the lessons of Christian Art are brought to an end.
We have seen her in our long researches, following with pious
416 HISTORY OP OUR LORD.
imagery the gracious and pathetic scheme of our ' Creation, Pre-
servation, and Redemption.' She has here accompanied the
Ransomed to the very threshold of the Celestial City ; but beyond
that who may venture to imagine either form or semblance ? For
above that portal, in characters clear to the mental vision of all
Christians, is written the divine prohibition : ' Eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the
things which God hath prepared for them which love Him.'
BIBLIA PAUPERUM.
I.
4. ,/.] 1. Eve, tempted by the Serpent. — Gen. iii. 1-7.
2. THE ANNUNCIATION.
3. Gideon and the Fleece. — Judges vi. 36 to end.
ii.
1. Moses and the Burning Bash. — Ex. iii. 1-7.
2. THE NATIVITY.
3. Aaron's Rod budding. — Num. xvii. 8.
in.
1. Abner visiting David at Hebron. — 2 Sam. iii. 20.
2. THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI.
3. The Queen of Sheba's Visit to Solomon. — 1 Kings x. 1-14.
IV.
1. The Presentation of the First-born in the Temple. — Num. iii. 13.
2. THE PURIFICATION.
3. The Mother of Samuel dedicating her Son to the Service of the Temple. —
1 Sam. ii. 28.
v.
1. Rebekah sending her Son Jacob to Laban. — Gen. xxvii. 43-46.
2. THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.
3. Michal assisting David to descend from the Window. — 1 Sain. xix. 12
VI.
1. The Adoration of the Golden Calf.— Ex. xxxii. 4.
2. THE SOJOURN OF THE HOLY FAMILY IN EGYPT, AND THE DESTRUC-
TION OF THE IDOLS.
3. Dagon falling to the Ground before the Ark. — 1 Sam. iii. 4.
VOL. II. 3 H
418 BIBLIA PAUPERUM.
A. ;.] vii.
1. Saul causing Abimelech and all the Priests to be beheaded. — 1 Sam. xxii.
16-19.
2. THE MURDER OP THE INNOCENTS.
3. The Prediction of the Death of the Sons of Eli.— 1 Sam. iii. 11-15.
VIII.
1. David consulting God respecting his Return after the Death of Saul. —
2 Sam. ii. 1.
2. THE RETURN OF THE HOLY FAMILY FROM EGYPT.
3. The Return of Jacob to his own Country. — Gen. xxxv. 27.
IX.
1. The Passage of the Red Sea.— fix. xiv. 21, 22.
2. JOHN BAPTISING CHRIST.
3. The Two Spies beariny the Bunch of Grapes. — Num. xiii. 23.
1. Esau selling his Birthright. — Gen. xxv. 29 to end.
2. CHRIST TEMPTED IN THE WILDERNESS.
3. Adam and Eve seduced by the Serpent. — Gen. iii. 6.
XI.
1. The Dead Body of the Widow's Son before Elijah. — 1 Kings xvii. 19.
2. THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS.
3. The Widow's Son restored to Life by Elijah.— I Kings xvii. 21, 22.
XII.
1. Abraham and the Three Angels.— Gen. xviii. 1-16.
2. THE TRANSFIGURATION.
3. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the Fiery Furnace.— Daniel iii. 20.
XIII.
1. Nathan reproving David.— 2 Sain. xii. 7.
2. MARY MAGDALEN AT THE FEET OF JESUS, IN THE HOUSE OF THE PHARISEE,
3. Miriam, the Sister of Aaron, punished with Leprosy. — Num. xii. 10.
xiv.
1. David with the Head of Goliath.— \ Sam. xvii. 51.
2. CHRIST'S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
3. The Sons of the Prophets coming to meet Elisha,—2 Kings xi. 15.
BIBLIA PAUPERUM. 419
| XV.
1. Darius requested by Esdras to build the Temple. — 1 Esdras iv.
2. CHRIST DRIVING THE MONEY-LENDERS OUT OF THE TEMPLE.
3. Judas Maccabeus giving Orders for the Purification of the Temple. — 1 Mace.
iv.
XVI.
1. Joseph sent by his Father unto his Brethren. — Gen. xxxvii. 14.
2. JUDAS ISCARIOT PROPOSING TO THE HIGH PRIEST TO BETRAY CHRIST.
3. Absalom encouraging the People to rebel against his Father. — 2 Sara. xr.
1-13.
XVII.
1. Joseph sold to the Ishmaeliles. — Gen. xxxvii. 28.
2. JUDAS RECEIVING THE THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER.
3. Joseph sold to Potiphar. — Gen. xxxvii. 36.
XVIII.
1. Melchisedec meeting Abraham. — Gen. xiv. 18, 19.
2. THE LAST SUPPER.
3. The Manna falling from Heaven. — Ex. xvi.
XIX.
1. Micaiah prophesying the Death of Ahab. — 1 Kings xxii. 17.
2. CHRIST, AFTKR HAVING WASHED His DISCIPLES' FEET, ABOUT TO GO TO
THE MOUNT OF OLIVES.
3. The Groom of King Joram crushed to Death in the Gate. — 2 Kings vii. 17.
xx.
1. The Five Foolish Virgins with their Lamps extinguished. — Matt. xxv. 8.
2. CHRIST IN THE GARDEN — THE SOLDIERS SENT TO TAKE HIM HAVING
FALLEN TO THE GROUND.
3. The Fall of the Angels.— 2 Pet. ii. 4.
XXI.
1. Abner treacherously killed by Joab. — 2 Sam. iii. 27.
2. JUDAS BETRAYING CHRIST WITH A Kiss.
3. Tryphon's treacherous Manner of taking Jonathan Captive. — 1 Mace. xiii.
XXII.
1. Jezebel endeavouring to compass the Death of Elijah. — 1 Kings xix. 1, 2.
2. PILATE WASHING HIS HANDS.
3. Daniel accused by the Babylonians — Daniel vi. 4—9.
420 BIBLIA PAUPERUM.
A. J.I XXIII.
1. Ham uncovering the Nakedness of his Father Noah. — Gen. ix. 22.
2. CHRIST CROWNED WITH THORNS.
3. The Children mocking the Prophet Elijah.— 2 Kings ii. 23, 24.
XXIV.
1. Isaac carrying the Wood for his ovm Sacrifice. — Gen. xxii. 6.
2. CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS.
3. The Widow of Sarepta holding Two Pieces of Wood in the form of a
Cross. — 1 Kings xix. 12.
XXV.
1. The Sacrifice of Abraham.— Gen. xxii. 9-10.
2. CHRIST ON THE CROSS WITH THE MADONNA FAINTING.
3. The Brazen Serpent. — Num. xxi. 9.
XXVI.
1. The Creation of Eve.— Gen. ii. 21, 22.
2. THE CRUCIFIXION, AND THE SOLDIER WITH THE SPEAR WHICH PIERCED
OUR SAVIOUR'S SIDE.
3. Moses striking the Rock. — Num. xx. 11.
XXVII.
1. Joseph let down into the Well. — Gen. xxxvii. 20.
2. THE ENTOMBMENT OF CHRIST.
3. Jonah cast into the Sea. — Jonah i. 15.
XXVIII.
1. David cutting off the Head of Goliath. — 1 Sam. xvii. 51.
2. CHRIST'S DKSCENT INTO LIMBUS.
3. Samson killing the Lion. — Judges xiv. 5, 6.
xxix.
1. Samson carrying of the Gates of Gaza. — Judges xvi. 3.
2. THE RESURRECTION OF OUR SAVIOUR.
3. Jonah vomited iip from the WJiales Belly. — Jonah ii. 10.
XXX.
1. Reuben searching for his Brother in the Well. — Gen. xxxvii. 29, 30.
2. THK THREE MARIES AND THE ANGEL AT THE SEPULCHRE.
3. Tlie Daughter of Sion seeking her Spouse. — Solomon's Song iii. 4.
BIBLIA PAUPERUM. 421
i A. J.] XXXI.
1. The King of Babylon giving Orders to release Daniel from the Den of Lions.
— Daniel vi. 23.
2. CHRIST APPEARING TO MARY MAGDALEN IN THE GARDEN.
3. The Daughter of Sion discovering her Spouse. — Solomon's Song iii. 4.
XXXII.
1. Joseph making himself known to his Brethren. — Gen. xlv. 3.
2. CHRIST APPEARING TO His DISCIPLES.
. 3. The Return of the Prodigal Son. — Luke xv. 20.
XXXIII.
1. The Angel appearing to Gideon. — Judges vi. 11, 12.
2. THK INCREDULITY OF ST. THOMAS.
3. Jacob wrestling with the Angel. — Gen. xxxii. 24-30.
XXXIV.
1. Enoch taken up into Heaven. — Gen. v. 24.
2. THE ASCENSION.
3. Elijah received up into Heaven. — 2 Kings ii. 11.
XXXV.
1. Moses receiving tht Tables of the Law. — Ex. xxxi. 18.
2. THE DtscENT OF THE HOLY GHOST UPON THE APOSTLES.
3. Elijah's Sacrifice consumed by Fire from Heaven. — 1 Kings xviii. 38.
XXXVI.
1. Solomon causing his Mother to sit by his Side. — 1 Kings ii. 19.
2. THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.
3. Esther and Ahasuerus. — Esther v. 2, 3.
XXXVII.
1. The Judgment of Solomon. — 1 Kings ii. 16 to end.
2. THE LAST JUDGMENT.
3. The Amalekite, who slew Saul, killed by order of David. — 2 Kings i,
13-16.
XXXVIII.
1. The Destruction of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. — Num. xxxii. 31-34.
2. HELL.
3. Sodom destroyed by Fire from Heaven. — Gen. xix. 24, 25.
422 BIBLIA PAUPERUM.
A. J.] xxxix.
1. The Feast of the Children of Job. -^- Job i. 4, 5.
2. CHRIST BEARING THE SOULS OF THE BLESSED IN His MANTLE.
3. Jacob's Vision of the Ladder. — Gen. xxviii. 12.
XL.
1. The Daughter of Sion crowned by her Spouse. — Solomon's Song iii. 11.
2- THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.
£ St. John listening to the Converse of an Angd. — Rev. xxi. 9.
SPECULUM HUMANE SALVATIONIS.
A. jr.] i.
1. The Fall of Lucifer.
2. Tlw Creation of Eve.
IL
1. Adam and Eve forbidden to eat of the Tree of Knowledge.
2. Eve deceived by the Serpent.
in.
1. Adam and Eve eating the Forbidden Fruit.
2. Adam and Eve driven out of Paradise.
IV.
1. Adam digging the Ground, and Eve spinning.
2. The Ark of Noah.
v.
1. The Birth of the Virgin predicted.
2. King Astiages sees the Vineyard in a Vision.
VI.
1. The Garden and the Fountain, emblematic of the Holy Virgin.
2. Balaam and his Ass.
VII.
1. The Nativity of the Virgin.
2. The Genealogical Tree of Christ.
VIII.
1. The Gate of a City, closed, anotlttr emblem of the Virgin Mary.
2. The Temple of Solomon.
IX.
1. The Offering of the Virgin in the Temple.
2. The Offering of the Table of Gold in the Temple of the Sun.
424 SPECULUM HUMANE SALVATION IS.
A. «/.] x-
1. Jephthah sacrificing his Daughter in fulfilment oj his Vow to the Lord.
2. The Queen Semiramis on the Top of a Tower.
XI.
1. The Marriage of the Virgin.
2. The Marriage of Sarah and Tobit.
XI I.
1. A Tower, upon which are Two Men blowing Trumpets.
2. A City, to the Wails of which are attached many Shields.
XIII.
1. The Annunciation.
2. Moses and the Burning Bush.
XIV.
1. Gideon and the Fleece.
2. Rebekah giving Drink to the Servant of Abraham.
xv.
1. The Nativity of our Saviour.
2. The Gup-Bearer of Pharaoh sees the Vineyard in a Vision.
XVI.
1. Aaron's Rod.
2. The Sibyl showing to Augustus the Image of the Virgin.
XVII.
1. The Adoration of the Magi.
2. The Three Magi seeing the Star.
XVJII.
1. The Three Warriors bringing the Water of the Cistern to David.
2. Solomon seated on his Throne.
XIX.
1 . The Presentation in the Temple.
2. The Ark of the Old Testament.
xx.
1. The Candlestick in the Temple of Solomon.
2. The Infant Samuel dedicated to the Lord.
SPECULUM HUMANE SALVATIONIS. 425
-.
A. J.] xxi.
1 . The Flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, and the Destruction of the Idols.
2. The Egyptians adoring the Image of the Holy Virgin.
XXII.
1. The Young Moses breaking in Pieces the Crown of Pharaoh.
2. Nebuchadnezzar seeing the Vision of the Statue.
XXIII.
1. The Baptism of Christ.
2. The Vessel of Brass in which the Jews washed themselves upon entering
into the Temple.
XXIV.
1. Naaman cured of his Leprosy.
2. The Ark carried over the River Jordan.
xxv.
1. The Temptation of Christ.
2. Daniel destroying the Image of Bel, and killing the Dragon.
XXVI.
1. David killing Goliath.
2. David killing the Bear and the Lion.
XXVII.
1. Mary Magdalene at the Feet of Christ.
2. The King Manasses in Captivity.
XXVIII.
1. The Return of the Prodigal Son.
2. Nathan reproaching David.
XXIX.
1 . Christ's Entry into Jerusalem.
2. Jeremiah upon a Tower, lamenting the Fate of Jerusalem.
XXX.
1 . The Triumph of David,
2. Heliodorus beaten with Rods.
XXXI.
1. The Last Supper.
2. The Israelites gathering Manna in the Wilderness.
VOL. II. 3 I
426 SPECULUM HUMANE SALVATIONIS.
A. J.j xxxn.
1. The Jews eating the Paschal Lamb.
2. Melchisedec meeting Abraham.
XXXIII.
1. The Soldiers, sent to take Christ in the Garden, struck to the Ground ai
His Word.
2. Samson killing a Thousand Philistines with the Jaw-bone of an Ass.
XXXIV.
1. Sangor killing Six Hundred Men with a Ploughshare.
2. David slaying Eight Hundred Men with his sword.
XXXV.
1. Christ betrayed with a Kiss.
2. Joab killing Abner.
XXXVI.
1. David playing on the Harp before Saul.
2. The Sacrifice and Death of Abel.
XXXV IT.
1. Christ insulted by the Soldiers of the High Priest.
2. Hur insulted and spit upon by the Jews.
XXXVIII.
1. Ham mocking his Fatlier Noah.
2. The Philistines mocking Samson when Blind.
XXXIX.
1. The Flagellation of Christ.
2. The Prince Achior tied to a Tree.
XL.
1. Lamech tormented by his Two Wives.
2. Job tormented by the Demon and by his Wife.
XLI.
1. Christ crowned with Thorns.
2. A Concubine taking the Crown from the Head of a King, and putting it
on her own.
XLII.
1. Shimei insulting David.
2. The King of A mmon disfiguring the Messengers of David.
SPECULUM HUMAXJB SALVATIONIS. 427
A. «/.] XL1II.
1. Christ bearing the Cross.
2. Abraham about to sacrifice Isaac.
XLIV.
1. The Son of the Lord of the Vineyard murdered by his Servant*.
2. The Two Spies carrying the Bunch of Grapes.
XLV.
1. Christ nailed to the Cross.
2. Tubal-Cain superintending his Workmen, who are forging Iron.
XLVI.
1. Isaiah suspended and sawed in Two.
2. A King killing his Child.
XLVTI.
1. Christ on the Cross between the Two Thieves.
2. The Dream of Nebuchadnezzar of the Tree cut down.
XLV1II.
1. The King Codrus causing himself to be put to death for the good of his
Country.
2. Eleazar killing the Elephant by plunging his Sword into its Belly.
XLIX.
1. The Descent from the Cross.
2. Joseph's Coat brought to Jacob.
L.
1. Adam and Eve lamenting over the dead Body of Abel.
2. Naomi weeping the Death of her Sons.
LI.
1. The Burial of Christ.
2. The Burial of A bner.
LII.
1. Joseph put into the Well.
2. Jonas swallowed by the Whale.
LII I.
1. Christ's Descent into Limbus.
2 Moses leading tlu Children of Israel out of Egypt.
428 SPECULUM HUMANE SALVATIONIS.
A. J.-> '
LIV.
1. God commanding Abraham to leave the Land of Ur.
2. Lot and his Family quitting Sodom.
LV.
1 . The Resurrection of our Saviour.
2. Samson carrying off the Gates of the City of Gaza.
LVI.
1. Jonas vomited up by the Whale.
2. Stonemasons laying the Headstone of the Corner.
LVII.
1. The Last Judgment.
2. The Parable of the Lord taking an Account of the Debts owing to Him by
His Servants, and causing the wicked Servant to be cast into a Dun-
geon.
LVIII.
1. The Parable of the Wise and the Foolish Virgins.
2. Daniel explaining the Handwriting on the Wall.
INDEXES.
i. NAMES OF ARTISTS (EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, AND
ENGRAVERS).
ii. GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, AND OTHER DEPOSITORIES
OF ART.
in. GENERAL INDEX.
I.
INDEX TO NAMES OF ARTISTS
(EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, AND ENGRAVERS.)
Albano, i. 276
Aldegrever, Heinrich, i. 167, 234, 381,
389; ii. 170, 211
Almasio, Lippo d', i. 367
Altdorfer, i. 192
Alunno, Niccolo, ii, 110, 111
Almalteo, Pomponio, ii. 390
Amerighi, Michaelangelo, ii. 90
Angelico, Fra, i. 52, 250, 266, 267, 290,
341, 342, 357, 358 ; ii. 3, 9, 16, 35, 36,
44, 56, 76, 80, 102, 103, 104, 109, 110,
122, 131, 132, 154, 188, 203, 222, 229,
249, 259, 260, 267, 281, 289, 309, 357,
363, 395, 399, 401, 402, 409, 413-415
Angelo, Michael, i. 60, 80, 83, 91, 93, 98,
104, 105, 128, 130, 171, 177, 202, 206,
252-256, 339 ; ii. 31, 78, 154, 156, 220,
224, 231, 235, 237, 395, 404, 408, 410,
411
Anglo-Saxon artists, i. 195, 202
Antonio Marc, i. 104, 105, 207, 269, 321 j
ii. 220, 221, 235
Antonio da Murano, ii. 372
Arias, Antonio, i. 323
Avanzi, Jacobo, i. 367
Bachiacca, II, i. 165
Bagno d'Agnolo, i. 165
Baldini, i. 218, 238, 239, 251, 252
Bandinelli, Baccio, i. 269, 271
Barroccio, i. 374; ii. 284, 375
BYZ
Bartoli, Taddeo, ii. 412
Bartoloineo, Fra, i. 228, 358; Ii. 96, 231,
289, 375
Basaiti, ii. 31
Bassano, i. 128, 153, 317, 326, 354, 370
378, 382, 395, 396 ; ii. 295
— Giacomo, i. 379, 388
Beatrizet, i. 339, 361
Beccafumi, i. 135, 172
Beham, Hans, i. 387 ; ii. 391
Bellini, i. 228, 229, 287, 288 ; ii. 10, 31,
77, 169, 231, 260, 293
Benedetto da Majano, i. 287
Blake, William, i. 229, 230
Bloemart, i. 93, 395
Bol, Ferdinand, i. 151, 169, 212
Bologna, Vitale di, i. 333
Bonifazio, i. 173, 317, 321, 325, 334, 360
Bononi, Carlo, i. 355
Borgia, Cardinal, ii. 328
Botticelli, Sandro, i. 172, 177, 292, 312 ;
ii. 230
Breughel, Hollen, i. 271
— Jean, i. 85, 232
— Peter, i. 320 ; ii. 119
Bronzino, Angelo, i. 181, 339
Buffalmacco, i. 128 ; ii. 168, 175, 176, 208,
310
Bugiardini, i. 292, 293
Burckmair, i. 197
Byzantine artists, i. 46, 47, 149, 180, 182,
202-204, 205, 212, 219, 226, 244, 283,
432 I. INDEX TO NAMES OF ARTISTS (EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, ETC.;
GAG
284, 303, 304, 318, 328, 341, 357, 377 ;
ii. 33, 281, 354, 408
Cagliari, Benedetto, ii. 70
Campagnola, i. 284 ; ii. 119
Cumuccini, ii. 301 note
Cano, Alonzo, i. 372
Capanna, Puccio, ii. 217
Carracci, Agostino, i. 336, 361
— Annibale, i. 129, 134, 141, 273, 276,
294, 339, 364, 383 ; ii. 90, 119, 233,270
— Antonio, i. 129, 141, 273, 294
— Lodovico, i. 315, 367, 370 ; ii. 79, 233,
237
Carravaggio, i. 152, 323 ; ii. 300
Castagno, Andrea del, i. 257, 258 ; ii. 186
Castiglione, i. 128, 153
Cavallini, ii. 168, 172, 173, 207
Cavazzuola, ii. 113, 301
Celesti, Andrea, i. 270
Champagne, Philippe de, ii. 343
Cignani, i. 106, 167
Cigoli, ii. 98, 237, 302
Cima da Conegliano, i. 296 ; ii. 300, 301
Cimabue, i. 59, 74
Claude Lorraine, i. 151, 153, 184, 214, 319,
320
Conca, Sebastian, i. 368
Cornelius, i. 170
Corregio, i. 301; ii. 32, 43, 97, 284, 311
Cortona, Pietro da, i. 142 ; ii. 276
Cosimo, Piero di, i. 265
Costa, Lorenzo, ii. 362
Coypel, i. 194, 217
Cranach, Lucas, i. 106, 107, 296,329, 334,
339; ii. 246,381
Credi, Lorenzo di, i. 109, 296 ; ii. 154, 284
Crivelli, ii. 231
Daniel da Volterra, i. 208, 270 ; ii. 222
D'Arpino, Cavaliere, i. 61
Dela lloche, Paul, i. 7, 174; ii. 159
Dietrich, i. 142, 396
Dolce, Carlo, i. 274, 291, 300
Domenichino, i. 110, 129, 258, 274, 346;
ii. 89, 116, 117
Donatello, i. 287, 305 ; ii. 227, 229, 304
Drouals, i. 364
GIO
Duccio, ii. 2, 4, 9, 39, 44, 57, 58, 63, 64,
76, 109, 110, 154, 168, 172, 173, 174,
181, 207, 215, 216, 244, 259, 265, 276,
279
Durer, Albert, i. 53, 119, 195, 196, 294,
311, 316, 328, 355, 358, 385; ii. 3,4,31,
32, 41, 45, 55, 57, 63, 70, 81, 90, 114,
133, 178, 182, 211, 233, 262, 271, 282,
288, 352, 365, 366, 367, 368
Duvet, i. 100
Dyce, Mr., ii. 159
Elzheimer, i. 273
Ferrara, Mazzolino da, i. 278, 334
Ferrato, Sasso, i. 274
Feti, Domenico, i. 380, 396
Flinck, Govaert, i. 142, 153
Floris, Franz, i. 61
Foritana, Battista, i. 395
— Prospero, ii. 247
Forli, Melozzo da, ii. 102
Francesca, Pietro della, ii. 245, 249, 390
Franceschini, ii. 380, 381
Francia, ii. 236
Franciabigio, i. 308, 394
Gaddi, Agnolo, ii. 390
— Gaddo, ii. 8
— Taddeo, i. 304; ii. 9, 105, 106, 110,
245, 266, 310
Garbo, Rafaelino del, ii. 268
Garofalo, i. 248, 249, 279, 339 ; ii. 200
Gatti, Bernardino, i. 371
Gaudenzio Ferrari, ii. 3, 11, 17,29, 51, 52,
63, 70, 77, 96, 133, 134, 161, 175, 177,
182, 203, 211, 261, 363, 365, 376
Genga, G., i. 366
Gerino di Pistoia, i. 371
German wood-engravers, early, 55, 33, 37,
81, 90, 93, 123, 132, 261
Ghiberti, i. 90, 91, 96, 97, 105, 119, 131,
138, 155, 168, 282, 305
Ghirlandajo, Domenico, i. 172, 263, 291,
307, 309, 374
Ghisi, Diana, of Mantua, i. 335
Giordiano, Luca, i. 167
Giorgio, Maestro, i. 238
I. INDEX TO NAMES OF ARTISTS (EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, ETC.) 433
Giorgione, i. 153, 176, 208, 217, 334 ; ii.
113, 363
Giotto,!. 226, 248, 303, 316, 341, 357;
ii. 2, 15, 18, 37, 48, 49, 76, 84, 87, 105,
110, 122, 123, 154, 161, 172, 173, 186,
228, 244, 259, 266, 267, 279, 286, 299,
309, 395, 399, 400
Goltzius, i. 192
Goujon, Jean, i. 379
Gozzoli, Benozzo, i. 130, 143, 146, 154,
155
Granacci, i. 165
Grandi, Ercole, di Ferrara, i, 182; ii. 109
Greek artists, i. 149, 180, 182, 202-204,
212, 219, 226, 283, 284, 303, 304, 319,
328, 377, 396, 397; ii. 26, 214, 216, 227,
228, 286, 299
Grosamer, Johann, i. 211
Grim, Hans Baldung, ii. 211, 282
Guercino, i. 141, 142, 215, 258, 274, 384 ;
ii. 301
Guffins, M., ii. 158, 159
Guido Reni, i. 61. 140, 196, 207, 208, 227,
258, 270, 271, 273, 274, 284, 288, 300,
301 ; ii. 205, 237, 381
Hemskirk, i. 238, 381
Herrera, Francisco, the younger, i. 371
Holbein, Hans, the elder, ii. 127
— the younger, i. 210, 386; ii. 4, 44,
70, 94, 123
Honthorst. i. 152
Hopfer, Daniel, i. 324 ; ii. 116
Jouvenet, i. 326, 327, 363; ii. 135
Karolus, i. 319
Kraft, Adam, ii. 19, 121
Lairesse, ii. 300
Largilliere, ii. 135
Lebrun, i. 315, 320 ; ii. 135
Leyden, Lucas van, i. 117, 123, 141, 192,
197, 210, 214, 218, 313, 366; ii. 3, 57,
70, 90, 94, 127, 128, 211
Lippi, Filippino, i. 306; ii. 185, 362, 382
— Fra Fillipo, i. 287, 292, 305, 306
Lombard, Lambert, i. 319
VOL. II. 3
Lorenzetto, Ambrogio, i. 346 ; ii. 228
Luini, i. 130, 278, 284, 285, 288, 301, 302,
321, 322 ; ii. 2, 59, 82, 89, 133, 169, 175,
177, 186, 203, 204, 379, 380
Mantegna, Andrea, i. 216; ii. 28, 31, 169,
230, 231, 238, 249, 257
— Francesco, ii. 283 note
Maratti, Carlo, i. 167, 274
Marziale, Marco, ii. 295
Masaccio. ii. 351
Matham,'i. 395
Matsys, Quentin, i. 395 ; ii. 375
Mechenen, Israel von, i. 195 ; ii. 3, 81, 90,
169, 178
Meister, Wilhelm, of Cologne, ii. 69
Mellone, Altobello, ii. 290
Memling, i. 137, 285, 286, 289 ; ii. 348,
395, 400, 408, 414, 415
Memmi, Simone, ii. 210
Mengs, i. 275
Messina, Antonello da, ii. 168, 375
Milano, Giovanni da, ii. 182
Modena, Nicoletto da, ii. 57
Mola, Francesco, i. 151, 153, 297
Morales, ii. 93, 103
Morando, Paolo, ii. 113, 114
Moretto, i. 271 ; ii. 98, 99
Mostaert, i. 125
Mudo, El, i. 138
Murillo, i. 138, 153, 155, 167, 273, 285,
292, 294, 297, 301, 328, 368, 371, 384,
387 ; ii. 93, 343, 380
Muziano, G., i. 361
Nelli, Suor Plautilla, i. 326
Orgagna, ii. 393, 395, 399-402, 405-407,
409, 412, 413
— Bernardo, ii. 412
Orvieto. Pietro di, i. 74, 104, 128
Overbeck, i. 170
Palma, Giovane, i. 167
— Vecchio, i. 334
Palmezzano, Marco, ii. 102, 369
Parmigianino, i. 167, 178, 184, 284, 320,
366, 367
434 I. INDEX TO NAMES OF ARTISTS (EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, ETC.)
PAT
Patch, Thomas, i. 303
Patinier, Joachim, i. 314
Pencz, G., i. 148, 217, 381
Perugino, i. 172, 312, 358 ; ii. 31, 154,
177, 186, 230, 268, 303, 310
Peruzzi, Baldassare, i. 144, 145 ; ii. 295
Pesellino, i. 204, 208, 210 ; ii. 352
Pietro, Niccolo di, ii. Ill, 175, 176, 216,
217, 266, 281, 310
Pinturicchio, i. 278 ; ii. 18
Piombo, Sebastiano del, i. 346, 359 ; ii. 78,
113, 116
Pisani, followers of the, i. 82
Pisano, Andrea, i. 291, 294, 302, 304 ; ii. 238
— Giovanni, ii. 406
- Giunta, ii. 172, 173, 181, 207
— Niccolo, i. 109 ; ii. 218, 406
Pollajuolo, A., i. 305 ; ii. 98
Pontormo, i. 163, 164, 165, 291
Pordenone, i. 208, 334 ; ii. 390
Poussin, Caspar, i. 134, 143, 173, 176, 177,
183, 184, 217, 239
— Niccolo, i. 129, 140, 271, 296, 335, 368,
370; ii. 11,28,41, 104,301
Potter, Paul, i. 221
Preti, Mattia, ii. 300
Quercia, Delia, i. 305
Raphael, i. 61, 84, 104, 105, 112, 115,
116, 127, 133, 138, 140, 150, 152, 153,
154, 163, 167, 173, 178, 181, 182, 184,
191, 205, 207, 211, 217, 218, 238, 239,
256, 257, 268, 284, 289, 296, 311, 312,
321, 322, 324, 328, 342-346, 355, 358,
370, 372 ; ii. 30, 114, 116, 177, 185, 186,
220, 221, 224, 231, 235, 239, 240, 282,
303, 311, 358
Ravenna, Marco di, i. 269
Razzi, ii. 96, 222, 224
Rembrandt, i. 53, 129, 135, 138, 141, 142,
143, 150, 153, 170, 192, 195, 198, 199,
210, 211, 279, 317, 324, 325, 330, 335,
339, 357, 360, 363, 388, 395 ; ii. 32, 59,
90, 94, 212, 224, 225, 241, 296, 376
Rene', King, i. 1 79
Reverdino, C., i. 320
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, i. 199, 319
TEN
Ribera, i. 151, 279 ; ii. 58, 343
Ricci, Sebastian, i. 320
Robbia, Luca della, i. 272
Roelas, i. 372
Romanino, i. 334
Romano, Giulio, i. 292, 335, 346 ; ii. 83
Rosa, Salvator, i. 131, 385
Rosini, ii. 220, 310
Rosselli, Cosimo, i. 172, 264
— Matteo, i. 209, 210
Rottenhammer, i. 329
Rubens, i. 53, 61, 119, 140, 141, 142, 153,
154, 186, 221, 232, 239, 270, 271, 288,
296, 323, 325, 329, 334, 355, 360, 373,
385; ii. 81, 118, 135, 170, 205, 224,
234, 349, 381, 395
Sacchi, Andrea, i. 309 ; ii. 116, 118
Sadeler, i. 125
Salviati, Cecchino, i. 172
San Giovanni, G. di, i. 315
Sanredam, i. 392
Sant, Mr., i. 199
Santo Croce, Girolamo di, ii. 112
Sarto, Andrea del, i. 135, 163, 164, 165,
167, 291, 301, 308, 309, 394 ; ii. 300
Schalken, Gottfried, i. 141, 391
Schauffelein, Hans, i. 380
Scheffer, Ary, ii. 33, 285
Schiavone, ii. 70
Schon, Martin, i. 391 ; ii. 3, 40, 70, 80, 94,
115, 119, 155, 157, 161, 178, 182, 246,
261, 271, 279, 281, 363
Siena, Matteo di Giovanni di, i. 266
Signorelli, Luca, i. 60, 172; ii. 220, 395,
408, 410, 414
Sneyders, i. 128
Solaria, Andrea, ii. 96
Spagnoletto, i. 151, 279; ii. 58, 343
Spinello Aretino, i. 61
Staren, Dirk von, i. 312
Steen, Jan, i. 198, 271, 355, 380, 386
Steinle, ii. 343
Stella, ii. 41
Strozzi, Bernardo, i. 298
Tafi, Andrea, ii. 399
Teniers, i. 380, 385
I. INDEX TO NAMES OF ARTISTS (EMBRACING PAINTERS, SCULPTORS, ETC.) 435
THO
Thomas, A., ii. 60
Tabaldi, i. 324
Tiepolo, ii. 116
Tintoretto, i. 134, 290, 311, 321, 325, 334,
354, 360, 371 ; ii. 10, 181, 241
Titian, i. 53, 119, 135, 181, 311, 322, 323,
320, 333, 358, 372, 394, 395 ; ii. 89, 241,
284, 293, 294, 337, 380
Tobar, A. de, i. 273
Tura, Cosiino, ii. 369
Turner, i. 213
Uccello, Paolo, i. 128
Udine, Giovanni da, i. 373
Valentin, i, 323
Yandervelde, A., i. 153, 154, 389
Yan der Werff, i. 141, 142, 215
Van Dyck, i. 53, 153, 198, 288, 323, 366, ii.
41, 90, 135, 205, 234, 237
- Philip, i. 142
Van Eyck, Hubert, i. 252 ; ii. 338
Jan, i. 106, 252, 285 ; ii. 338
Van Vost, A., i. 325
Van Wingen, i. 329
Varotari, i. 334
Vasari, L 315
zc'k
Vecchio, Palma, i. 334
Velasquez, ii. 82, 205, 380
Veronese, Paul, i. 140, 143, 321, 333, 354,
364, 365, 366, 388; ii. 32, 268, 294
Verrocchio, i. 296, 297
Victor, Jan, i. 153
Vincentini, i. 366
Vinci, Leonardo da, i. 53, 285, 288, 321 ;
ii. 21
Vitale di Bologna, i. 333
Vivarini, the, ii. 372
— L., ii. 373
Vos, Simon de, ii. 268
Vouet, i. 194
West, Benjamin, i. 223
Weden, Rogier van der, the elder, i. 248,
290, 307; ii. 93, 169, 224, 232, 246,
395, 400, 401, 408
the younger, ii. 93, 232
Wierix, ii. 178
Wohlgemuth, Michael, ii. 377, 378
Zuccaro, Taddeo, ii. 363
Zucchero, i. 361
Zurbaran, i. 372
II.
INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, AND
OTHER DEPOSITORIES OF ART.
ACC
Accademia, at Florence, i. 266 ; ii. 9, 31, 35,
44, 49, 56, 109, 122, 229, 231, 245, 266,
286, 299, 309, 310, 395, 401, 409
— at Siena, 303, 341 ; ii. 228
— delle Belle Arti, Venice, ii. 31, 70, 295,
300, 372, 373, 391
Aix, Provence, church in, i. 179
Aix-la-Chapelle, Cathedral of, i. 320, 341 ;
ii. 54, 55, 74, 329
Albert, the late Prince Consort, his collec-
tion, i. 38, 39
Ambrosian Library, Milan, i. 42, 232, 276 ;
ii. 17, 60, 89, 127, 254, 255
Amiens Cathedral, i. 124, 145, 155, 390,
396
Anglo-Saxon MSS. in the British Museum,
ii. 161
Annunziata, Church of the, in Florence,
i. 272 ; ii. 229
Antwerp :— Cathedral, i. 61; ii. 135. St.
George's Church, ii. 159. Museum,
ii. 170, 234. Dominican Church, ii.
81, 121. Ertborn collection, ii. 128.
168
j\psley House, Gallery of, ii. 32
Arena Chapel, Padua, i. 357; ii. 2, 15, 37,
48, 49, 87, 105, 228, 395
Arezzo, S. Maria degli Angeli, i. 61.
S. Francesco, ii. 390
Arsenal, Library of, Paris, i. 60
Arundel Society, i. 168 note, 216
BER
Assisi, Church of S. Francesco, i. 59, 74,
112; ii. 159, 168, 173, 209, 217, 227, 228
Athos, Mount, ii. 395
Augsburg, Church of St. Anna at, i. 329
Autun Cathedral, ii. 393, 399, 408, 414
Baglioni Chapel, at Spello, i. 278
Baptistery, Florence, i. 90, 91, 96, 97, 105,
119, 131, 138, 155, 168, 249, 263, 282,
292, 302, 303, 304, 357, 399
— of the Lateran, ii. 335
— Siena, i. 305
Baring, Mr., M.P., his gallery, ii. 28, 32,
94, 103
Bartholdy, Casa, i. 170
Baseglia, ii. 390
Basil, the Emperor, MS. painted for, i.
149
Basle churchyard walls, ii. 393
Bassus, Junius, tomb of, i. 13 ; ii. 66
Beaune Monastery, Burgundy, ii. 395, 401,
Bedford Missal, i. 132 ; ii. 29, 358
Belle Arti, Florence, i. 296
Venice,ii.31,70, 295,300, 372, 373, 391
Belvedere Gallery, Vienna, i. 275, 279, 298,
361, 388, 391 ; ii. 237, 352
Benevento, St. Angeloin Formisat, i. 115 ;
ii. 243. Cathedral of, i. 20; ii. 48, 59,
74, 86, 109, 257
Berjeau, M., his Speculum, i. 98, 193, 393 ;
ii. 134
II. INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, ETC.
437
Berlin : -Gallery, i. 129, 142, 152, 248,
265, 276, 278, 290, 293, 326, 360, 372,
388, 395 ; ii. 69, 99, 112, 119, 127, 185,
198, 232, 364
Berri, Jean de, Psalter of, ii. 78
'Biblia Pauperum,' i. 27, 28, 151, 154, 157,
179, 201, 221, 222 ; ii. 322
Bibliotheque Imperiale, Paris, i. 64, 71, 92,
95, 110, 120, 151, 170, 173, 180, 202,
205; ii. 112, 151, 258, 286, 364
Blenheim, i. 329, 335
Bologna : — Marescalchi collection, i. 217.
Churches of, i. 229, 278, 292, 367 ; ii.
101,102, 200. LyceoMusicale,i.280,295;
ii. 54, 79, 237, 247, 292, 377. S. Maria
di Mezzarata, near, i. 367. S. Michele
in Bosio, near, i. 324
Borgherini, Casa, i. 165
Borghese Palace, ii. 240
Borgia collection, at Velletri, i. 275
Borgo S. Sepolcro, ii. 245
Borromeo, Casa, Milan, ii. Ill
Bourges : — Cathedral, i. 378, 381, 386.
Chnrch of St. Bonnet, ii. 268
Boxall, Mr, his speculum, i. 163, 176, 195,
196, 199, 200, 206, 212, 213, 233, 275,
382, 383 ; ii. 26, 375
Brentano miniatures, i. 290, 291
Brera Gallery, Milan, i. 142, 173, 296,
336 ; ii. 231
Brescia, Church of S. Giovanni Evange-
lista, at, i. 271. Church of St. Afra, i.
333. Museo Tosi, ii. 98
Brett, Mr., his collection, ii. 031
Brignola Palace, Genoa, i. 323
British Museum, i. 47, 49, 58, 72, 74, 80,
111, 121 note, 131, 136, 167, 174, 195,
198, 202, 206, 215, 268 ; ii. 9, 10, 37, 69,
75, 77, 83, 110, 116, 123, 132, 152, 161,
194, 208, 299, 309, 356, 373, 383, 399,
401, 402
Bromley, Mr Davenport, his collection,ii. 31
Brunswick Gallery, i. 211
Brussels : — Library of the Dukes of Bur-
gundy, i. 62, 80 note, 215, 221; ii. 42,
78, 161, 291. Museum, i. 106, 191 ; ii.
9, 118. Mr Nieuwenhuys' collection, i.
198
DIE
Buonarotti, Casa, Florence, ii. 220
Burgundian Libraiy, Brussels, i. 62, 80
note, 215, 221 ; ii.*42, 78, 151, 291
Burgundian Library, Liege, i. 178
Burleigh House, i. 321
Campana Collection, ii. 304
Campo Santo, Pisa, i. 74, 104, 106, 124,
128, 130, 138, 140, 141, 143, 146, 154,
163, 226; ii. 168, 176, 208
Capucini, Church of, Rome, i. 61
Carmine, Church of, at Florence, i. 303
Casarsa, ii. 390
Castelbarca Gallery, Milan, ii. 169, 290
Castle Howard, i. 134 ; ii. 233
Catacombs, i. 13, 16, 45, 46, 118, 126, 177,
182, 183, 201, 221, 225, 226, 230, 231,
238, 277, 295, 328, 348; ii. 6, 7, 8, 12,
13, 18, 66, 107, 137, 152, 153, 319, 337,
341, 353
Charles, the Archduke, his collection, i. 394
Chartres, Cathedral of, 386, 390
Chatsworth, i. 269
Cluny Museum, ii. 269, 319
Cobham Hall, i. 152
Colmar Museum, ii. 211
Cologne :— Museum, ii. 124, 366. Church
of Our Lady, ii. 264. Archiepiscopal
Museum, ii. 330. Mr Euhl's collection,
ii. 371
Corsini Palace, Rome, ii. 395
Costabile Gallery, Ferrara, i. 182.
Coutts, Miss Burdett, ii. 30
Cowper, Lord, his collection, i. 3S4
Cremona :— Cathedral, i. 243. Canonici
Regolari Lateranensi, i. 371
Crozat Gallery, i. 290 ; ii. 363
Crystal Palace, ii. 235
Curzon, Hon. R., i. 108 ; ii. 333
D'Agincourt, i. 119,126; ii. 7, 14, 26, 37,
101, 130, 131, 133, 174, 175, 258, 281,
299, 304, 356
Dantzic, ii. 395
Darnley, Lord, his collection, i. 152
Devonshire, Duke of, his collection, i. 269,
339
Dieppe, Church of St. Jacques at, i. 249
438
II. INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, ETC.
DBS
Dresden Gallery, i. 106, 135, 151, 153, 169,
211, 300, 355, 364, 372, 388, 397 ; ii.
300, 366, 367
Ducal Palace, Venice, i. 104
Dudley, Earl of, his collection, ii. 185, 231,
395, 401
Dufourny, M., his collection, i. 183
Dulwich Gallery, i. 151, 153
Edgar, King, his ' Prayer Book,' ii. 355
Ertborn collection, Antwerp, ii. 128, 168
Esterhazy Gallery, Vienna, i. 329
Etruria Pittrice, i. 315
Faenza, Museum at, ii. 102
Farrer, Mr., ii. 129
Ferrara : — Costabile Gallery, i. 182 ; ii.
200. Cathedral, ii. 393, 415
Florence: — Accademia, i. 266 ; ii. 9, 31, 35,
44, 56, 109, 122, 229, 231, 245, 266,
286, 299, 309, 310, 395, 401, 409. Uffizj,
i. 106, 109, 164, 176, 217, 257, 270, 302 ;
ii. 122, 284. Baptistery, i. 90, 91, 96,
97, 105, 119, 131, 138, 155, 168, 249,
263, 283, 292, 302, 303, 304, 357, 399.
Pitti Palace, i. 164, 173, 209, 210, 334,
397 ; ii. 96, 98, 230, 231, 302, 375, 377.
Churches, i. 128, 263, 266, 272, 287, 303,
307, 342 ; ii. 18, 105, 108, 210, 222, 351,
390. Gallery, i. 144, 287, 290, 291, 296,
380. Palazzo Vecchio, i. 181, 202. The
elder Marchese Torrigiano's collection,
i. 204, 208, 210. Campanile of Giotto,
i. 248. Casa Buonarotti, ii. 220. Con-
vent of S. Marco, ii. 104, 188, 223, 229,
289, 290. Lo Scalza, i. 308
Fountaine, Mr., his collection, i. 385
Fribourg Cathedral, i. 391
Frisi's 'Memorie delle Chiese Monzese,'
ii. 167
Galla Placidia, Chapel of, Ravenna, ii. 318,
319, 335
Genoa, Brignola Palace, i. 323
Ghent, St. Bavon at, ii. 338
Ghigi Chapel, Siena, ii. 184
Ghislieri, Count Bero, his chapel, i. 270
LUC
Giustiniani, Prince, his collection, i. 361,
364
Greek Churches, i. 59, 245
Grimani, Cardinal, Breviary of, ii. 348
Grosvenor Gallery, i. 142, 184, 223, 320,
333
Hamilton Palace, i. 232
Hampton Court, i. 271, 372 ; ii. 303
Harrach, Count, his collection, i. 152
Henry VIII., Psalter of, i. 215
Hertford, Marquis of, his collection, i. 167,
395
Holford, Mr, his collection, i. 50, 56, 57,
89, 206, 350 ; ii. 161, 162, 352, 355
Hope, Mr Beresford, his collection, ii. 149
note.
Ivories, i. 1, 21-24; ii. 37, 40, 43, 55, 59,
68, 69, 75, 144, 149, 152, 244, 258, 263,
274, 306
Kensington, South, Museum, ii. 304
King Edgar's ' Prayer Book,' ii. 355
Kingston Lacy, collection at, i. 217
Lansdowne, Marquis of, his collection, i.
384
Lateran, Baptistery of the, ii. 335
Layard, Mr., ii. 133
Legnaja, Villa Pandolfini at, i. 257
Leipzig, Pauliner-Kirche, i. 329
Lichtenstein Gallery, i. 271
Liege Library, i. 178
Lille Museum, ii. 268, 343
Lincoln College, Oxford, i. 224
Liverpool Museum, i. 290, 386
Loan Museum, ii. 362
Lodi, Cathedral of, ii. 19
Lorenz-Kirche, at Nuremburg, i. 266 ; ii.
19, 376
Loretto, Holy House at, i. 249
Louvre, i. 61, 110, 140, 142, 144, 170, 177
note, 208, 216, 276, 285, 304, 321, 327,
335, 360, 386, 388 ; ii. 89, 103, 110, 111,
182, 224, 270, 293, 294, 357, 363
Lucca Gallery, i. 364. Cathedral, ii. 218
II. INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, ETC.
439
LUG
Lugano, churches at, i. 284, 285; ii. 169,
186, 204
Lumley, Mr. J. Savile, ii. 82
Lutchena, Gallery of, ii. 96
Lyceo Musicale, at Bologna, i. 280, 295 ;
ii. 54
Lyons, Musee, i. 315 ; ii. 310
Madonna delle Grazie, Milan, Church of
the, ii. 77, 96
Madrid Gallery, i. 151, 323 ; ii. 41, 224,
343
Malines, Church of Notre Dame at, i. 373
Manchester House, i. 167
Marescalchi collection, at Bologna, i. 217
Martin, John, i. 181
Mary, Queen, her Prayer Book, i. 131, 162,
198 ; ii. 69, 75, 355
Medici, Cappella, i. 181
Milan :— Cathedral, i. 53, 117. Brera, i.
142, 173, 296, 336 ; ii. 231. Ambrosian
Gallery, i. 42, 232, 276; ii. 17, 60, 89,
127, 254, 255. Churches, i. 261; ii. 77,
96, 323, 336. Monasterio Maggiore, ii.
82. Casa Borromeo, ii. 111. The dark'
Church behind the Monasterio Maggiore,
ii. 133. Castelbarca Gallery, ii. 169,
290. Treasury of Cathedral, i. 22
Miles, Mr., of Leigh Court, his collection,
ii. 114
Modena, Cathedral of, i. 124, ii. 205
Monreale, Cathedral of, i. 20, 63, 78, 90
Moritz-Capelle, Nuremberg, ii. 77, 207,
246
Munich Gallery, i. 137, 285, 286, 395, 396;
ii. 90, 230, 271, 319, 320, 349, 382, 391.
National Museum, ii. 44, 263
Murano, Church of, ii. 395
Namur, convent of, i. 280
National Gallery, i. 52, 134, 140, 186, 214,
223, 268, 287, 292, 321, 322, 323, 335,
346, 388; ii. 31, 32, 93, 97, 170, 236,
246, 283, 343, 352, 362, 375
Nieuwenhuys, Mr., his collection, i. 198
Northwick, Lord, his gallery, i. 301
Nunziata, Chapel of the, Florence, i. 272 ;
ii. 229
QUE
Nuremberg : — The Landauer Briider Haus
at, i. 234. The Lorenz-Kirche at, i. 266 ;
ii. 19, 376. Cathedral, i. 390. Moritz-
Capelle, ii. 77, 207, 246
Orleans Gallery, i. 176
Orvieto Cathedral, i. 60, 82, 89, 95, 96,
109 ; ii. 395, 405, 406, 408, 410
Otho III., the Emperor, his retablo, ii. 18
Oxford, i. 224 ; ii. 103
Padua: — Arena Chapel, i. 357 ; ii. 2, 15,
37, 48, 49, 87, 105, 228, 395. 3. Antonio,
ii. 199
Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, i. 181, 202
Pandolfini, Villa, at Legnaja, i. 257
Panshanger, i. 167 note, 394
Paris:— Louvre, i. 61, 110, 140, 142, 144,
170, 177 note, 208, 216, 276. Collec-
tion of M. Eeizet, ii. 379. Arsenal, i.
60. Bibliotheque Impe'riale, i. 64, 71,
92, 95, 110, 120, 151, 170, 173, 180, 202,
205; ii. 55, 112, 151, 258, 286, 364.
Pourtale*s collection, i. 197. Chartreuse,
i. 363
Parma : — Church of the Steccata at, i. 184.
Church of S. Giovanni at, ii. 312
Pauliner-Kirche, Leipzig, i, 329
Peel, Sir Robert, his collection, i. 380
Pisa:— Campo Santo, i. 74, 104, 106, 124,
128, 130, 138, 140, 141, 143, 146,154,
163, 226; ii. 168, 176, 208, 393, 395,
404, 406, 407. Churches, ii. Ill, 216,
310
Pitti Palace, i. 164, 173, 209, 210, 334,
397; ii. 96, 98, 230, 231, 302, 375, 377
Poggibonsi, Convent of San Lucchese at,
371
Pont Andemeer, near Caen, i. 275 note
Posen, collection at, ii. 170
Pourtale's, Count, Gallery of, ii. 197
Prato Cathedral, i. 292, 306
Psalter, Greek, i. 202, 205, 212, 244
— of Henry VI II., i. 215
Queen Mary's Prayer Book, i. 131, 162,
198; ii. 69, 75, 355
Queen Victoria's Library, i. 134
440
II. INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, ETC.
KAM
Rambona in the Marches, Monastery of, ii.
149
Rasponi, Count, his collection, ii. 373
Ravenna :— Mosaics at, ii. 341. Cathedral,
i. 160, 294 ; ii. 317. St. Vitale at, i.
177; ii. 318, 322, 336. S. Apollinare
in Classe, i. 341 ; ii. 318, 319, 321. S.
Apollinare Nuovo, i. 19; ii. 319. Chapel
of Galla Placidia at, ii. 318, 319, 335.
Collection of Count Rasponi, ii. 373.
Ivory Chair of S. Maximian, i. 24
Reizet, M., collection of, ii. 379
Rheims Cathedral, i. 390
Rogers, Samuel (the late), his collection, i.
299.. 303, 368, 380, 388 ; ii. 30, 284
Rome :— Churches, i. 19, 21, 61, 80, 83,
91, 93, 98, 104, 105, 128, 129, 130,154,
155, 172, 177, 206, 252, 257, 262, 277,
309, 312, 328; ii. 78, 130, 174, 235, 257,
299, 301 note, 335, 347, 348. Vatican, i.
13, 84, 104, 111, 112, 116, 127, 128, 134,
140, 150, 152, 163, 167, 173, 180, 182,
187, 205, 207, 211, 248, 249, 312, 324,
374; ii. 268, 300, 301, 358. Corsini
Palace, ii. 395
Rothschild, Baron, his hotel in Paris, i.
174
Rouen Cathedral, i. 299. A church at, i.
379
Ruhl, Mr., of Cologne, his collection, ii. 371
St. Afra, Church of, Brescia, i. 333
Sant' Agostino, Siena, i. 268 ; ii. 184
S. Albinus, shrine of, Cologne, ii. 264
S. Ambrogio, Church of, in Milan, i. 261 ;
ii. 323, 336
S. Angeloin Forniis, Benevento, i. 115; ii.
243
St. Anna, Church of, Augsburg, i. 329
S. Antonio, Padua, ii. 199
S. Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna, i.341; ii.
338, 319, 321
S. Apollinare Nuovo, i. 19 ; ii. 319
St. Bavon at Ghent, ii. 338
San Bernardo, Chapel of, in Florence, i.
287
S. Bonnet, Church of, in Bourges, ii. 268
St. Calixtus, Catacomb of, i. 177
SAN
St. Caterina in Formello, Church of, in
Naples, i. 268
SS. Cosmo and Gamian, Rome, ii. 345
S. Croce, Florence, ii. 105
S. Francesco, at Assisi, i. 59, 74, 112 ; ii.
159, 168, 209, 217, 227, 228
S. Francesco, at Bologna, i. 278
S. Francesco, at Pisa, ii. Ill, 216, 310
S. Galle, Library of, ii. 138
St. George's Church, Antwerp, ii. 159
S. Gimignano, Duomo of, ii. 412
S. Giobbe, Bologna, i/229
San Giorgio, Bologna, i. 367
San Giovanni in Fonte, Rome, i. 309
S. Giovanni, at Parma, ii. 312
S. Giovanni Evangelista, at Brescia, i. 271
St. Jacques, Church of, Dieppe, i. 249
St. John Lateran, Rome, ii. 348
St. Laurence, Church of, Nuremberg, i.
266 ; ii. 19, 276
S. Lorenzo, ii. 229
San Lucchese Convent, Poggibonsi, i. 371
S. Marco, Florence, i. 266, 342 ; ii. 104,
188, 223, 229, 289, 290
Santa Maria della Salute, Venice, i. 135
S. Maria della Pace, in Rome, i. 256, 257
S. Maria degli Angeli, at Arezzo, i. 61
S. Maria di Mezzarata, near Bologna, i.
367
S. Maria Maggiore, in Rome, mosaics in, i.
266, 277
S. Maria Novella, Florence, i. 128, 263,
307; ii. 108, 210, 351
St. Mark's, Venice, i. 20, 65, 75, 89, 90, 92,
95, 98, 111
S. Michele in Bosio, near Bologna, i. 324
S. Onofrio, Florence, ii. 18
St. Ouen, i. 274
S. Paolo-fuori-le-Mura, Rome, ii. 8, 130,
257, 299
San Paolo, Rome, i. 262
St. Peter's, Rome, i. 328 ; ii. 235, 301 note
S. Petronia, Bologna, ii. 200
S. Pietro in Montorio, Rome, ii. 78
S. Ponziano, Catacomb of, i. 295
S. Rocco, Scuola di, Venice, i. 360, 371 ;
ii. 10
S. Salvatore, Church of, Venice, ii. 293
II. INDEX TO GALLERIES, CHURCHES, MUSEUMS, ETC.
441
S. Silvestro, Chapel of, Rome, ii. 175
S. Stefano, Bologna, ii. 101
SS. Trinita, Florence, ii. 222
St. Vitale, at Ravenna, i. 177; ii. 318,
322, 336
S. Zeno, Verona, i. 20 ; ii. 8, 35, 50, 74,
105
Sarcophagi, i. 13, 126, 133, 180, 181, 183,
222, 239, 337, 347, 348-352, 356; ii. 6,
12, 13, 44, 66, 319, 341, 342
Scalza, Lo, in Florence, i. 308
Schonborn, Count, gallery of, 143, 331
Sens, Cathedral of, i. 24, 168, 378, 387
Servi, Church of the, Siena, i. 268
Seville, Hospital of Charity at, i. 368. Ca-
thedral of the Caridad, i. 371, 385
Siena Cathedral, i. 134, 172, 267; ii. 2,
39, 174, 181, 216, 222, 276, 280, 288.
Church of Sant' Agostino, i. 268 ; ii.
184. Church of the Servi, i. 268. Hos-
pital, i. 368. Accademia, i. 303; ii.
228. Baptistery, i. 305
Sistine Chapel, i. 80, 83, 91, 93, 98, 104,
105, 128, 130, 172, 177, 206, 252, 312,
374
* Speculum humanse Salvationist i. 27, 157,
163, 176, 192, 193, 194, 195, 198, 199,
200, 201, 206, 210, 212, 213, 219, 223,
227, 233, 235, 237, 244, 248, 275, 280,
382, 383, 393; ii. 26, 35, 87, 88, 133, 134,
313, 375
Spello, Baglioni Chapel at, i. 278
Stafford House, i. 61, 199 ; ii. 70, 116, 117
Steccata, Church of the, Parmi, i. 184
Steeugracht, Baron, his collection, ii. 381
Sternberg, Count Speck, his collection, ii.
96
Strasburg Cathedral, i. 390
Sutherland Gallery, i. 138, 385, 387
Torrigiano, the elder Marchese, collection
of, i. 204, 208, 210
Troves, sarcophagus at, i. 126
Treviso, ii. 363
Tribune at Florence, i. 270, 302
Uffizj, Florence, i. 106, 109, 164, ]76, 217,
257 ; ii. 122, 284
Ulm Cathedral, i. 138
Varallo, church at, ii. 3, 17, 63, 133. Sacro
Monte of, ii. 182
Vatican, i. 13, 84, 104, 111, 112, 116, 127,
128, 134, 140, 150, 152, 154, 155, 163,
167, 173, 180, 182, 187, 205, 207, 211,
248, 249, 312, 324, 374 ; ii. 268, 300,
301, 303, 358
Venice :— St. Mark's, i. 20, 65, 75, 89, 90,
92, 95, 98, 111. Ducal Palace, i. 104,
317. Churches, i. 135 ; ii. 293. Scuola
di S. Rocco, i. 360, 371; ii. 10. Belle
Arti, ii. 31, 70, 229, 295, 300, 372, 373,
391
Verona : — bronze gates at, i. 20, 131 ; ii. 8,
35, 50, 74, 105. Gallery, ii. 113, 369
Victoria, Queen, library of, i. 134
Vienna : — codex of Genesis at, i. 112. Bel-
vedere Gallery at, i. 275, 279, 298, 326,
361, 388, 391; ii. 237, 352. Esterhazy
Gallery, i. 329. Schonborn Gallery, i.
143, 330, 331. The Archduke Charles's
Collection, i. 394
Weimar, Grand Duke of, i. 329
Wells Cathedral, ii. 393, 405
Westphalia, the rock-hewn Descent fiom
the Cross in, ii. 219
Yarborough, Lord, his collection, i. 143
VOL. IT.
III.
GENERAL INDEX.
AAR
Aaron, at the striking of the rock, i. 183.
On the side of Mount Sinai, 184
Abbas, Shah, story of, and the dancing
woman, i. 299 note
Abel as an infant, i. 116. As a type of our
Lord, 118. The story of Cain and Abel
as treated in Art, US. Tradition of
Abel's dog, 119. Mediaeval and Eastern
legends, 119. Adam and Eve lamenting
over his body, 121
Abgarus, King of Edessa, his apocryphal
letter to Jesus, i. 36. The miraculous
portrait of our Lord taken to him, 38
Abihu ascending Mount Sinai, i. 184
Abishag the Shunamite presented by Bath-
sheba to David, i. 214. Asked by Bath-
sheba for wife to Adonijah, 217
Abner visiting David at Hebron, i. 211
Abraham, story of, and Isaac, as repre-
sented in Art, i. 133. His meeting with
Melchisedec, 136. The visit of the three
angels, 138. The history of Lot, 139.
And that of Hagar, 141. The history of
Abraham as represented in the series in
the Campo Santo, at Pisa, 146. Oriental
and liabbinical legend concerning Abra-
ham, 146. His story as represented
on Ghiberti's gates, 148. Pencz's series,
148
Absalom, story of, as represented in Art, i.
213
Accaioli, Margherita, her marriage with
AEA
the son of Pier Francesco Borgherini, i,
164. Her defence of her house, 165
Achan, taking and stoning of, i. 189
Adam, creation of, as recorded in the Book
of Genesis, i. 86. Eabbinical fables of
the origin and history of, 87. Fabulous
accounts of his stature, 87. Various
significations of his name, 88. The in-
vention of letters attributed to him, 88.
His book on 'the Divinity,' and his song
for the Sabbath-day, 88. His institution
of certain feasts and fasts, 88. His
repentance, according to the Christian
Church and the Rabbins, 88, 89. His
translation, according to later Art, 89.
Creation of Adam, as in the Orvieto
sculpture, 89. And in the mosaics of St.
Mark's and the series at Monreale, 90.
On the bronze doors of the Baptistery at
Florence, 90, 91. The sleep of Adam
and the creation of Eve, 93. Literal
rendering of the subject in early Art, 94,
95. Later representations, 95-98. Mar-
riage of Adam and Eve, 98. The Fall,
102. The hiding in the garden, 109.
The Lord accusing Adam and Eve, 109.
The coat of skins, 111. The angel giving
Adam a spade, 111. The expulsion from
Paradise, 112. Mahometan legends of
Adam and Eve, 115. liepresentations of
their life in their fallen condition, 115.
Their lamentation over the body of Abel.
III. GEXERAL INDEX.
443
121. Eastern traditions respecting the
bones of Adam, 122. The figure of Adam
connected with the Crucifixion, ii. 207.
Adam's Peak, in Ceylon, i. 88 note
Adonis, traces of honours paid by the
Egyptians to the patriarch Joseph under
the title of, i. 157
Agemina, i. 21
Agnus Dei, ii. 335. See LAMB
Agony in the Garden, our Lord's, ii. 24.
His prayer there, 25. As represented in
Art, 25. The scene of the Agony, 33.
The drops of bloody sweat, 33
Ai, Joshua and the Israelites before the
city of, i. 189
Almighty, the, creating the angels, i. 63,
64. Creating the world, 75 et seq. Rest-
ing on the Seventh day, 79. Michael
Angelo's representation of Him, 83, 84.
Raphael's picture of the Almrghty
creating Light, 84, 85. His creation of
man, 86. Appearing to Job in a whirl-
wind, 230. Daniel's vision of the ' An-
cient of Days,' ii. 394
Amalek and Israel, fight between, in Rephi-
dim, i. 183
Amalekite who killed Saul, death of the,
i. 211
Amuion, King of, disfiguring the messen-
gers of David, i. 211
Amos, his prophecy respecting our Lord, i.
241
Anastasia, the word, on the doors of S.
Paolo-fuori-le-Mura, Rome, ii. 257
Anchor, symbol of the, in Christian Art, i.
12
Andrew, the Apostle, calling of, i. 374
Angels, fall of the rebel, i. 54. St. Au-
gustine on the creation of the angels,
quoted, 54, 63. The Second Person of
the Trinity urged to redeem man, 55.
Lucifer, 57, 58. The Fall of the Angels,
how treated in early Art, 58. In the
Bible of the 10th century in the British
Museum, 58. By Cimabue, 59. In
Greek churches, 59. In later Art, 60.
Michael Angelo's intended picture of
the Fall of the Angels, 60. The Fall
ignored since the time of Michael An-
gelo, 61. Rubens' picture, 61. The
miniature series of pictures at Brussels,
62. Creation of angels, 63. The angels
made typical of the days of Creation,
65. Visit of the three angels to Abra-
ham, 138. Angels attending our Lord
at the Crucifixion, ii. 172. The form of
angels, according to the early theolo-
gians, 172. Angels occupied with the
figure of our Lord on the Cross, 174.
Gaudenzio Ferrari's angels, 177. The
Virgin with the dead Christ, accom-
panied by angels, 236. Angels bearing
the glory in which Christ is seated, 353.
Supporting the dead Christ in the
Tomb, 362. Angels in attendance on
the Lord in pictures of the Last Judg-
ment, 403
Anglo-Saxon picture of the first days of
Creation, i. 72
Anglo-Saxon Christian Art, i. 48-50
Animals, creation of, as represented at
Orvieto, i. 83. Jean Breughel's land-
scape, 85
Anna?, Christ brought before, ii. 44. The
event as rendered by Art, 44
Antichrist, legend of, i. 60
Antipater, murder of, by his father Herod,
i. 261
Antoninus, Archbishop of Florence, as
represented in Fra Angelico's great
Crucifixion, ii. 192
Apocalypse, the Fall of the Angels con-
founded with scenes from the, i. 60.
Fight of St. Michael with the Seven-
headed Dragon of the, 61. Great de-
velopment in Art of the subjects of the
Apocalypse in the 14th and 15th cen-
turies, ii. 337
Apostles, the twelve, frequently represented
each with a Prophet, i. 243. Supposed
to have each composed one of the twelve
sentences of the Creed, 243. Calling
of the first two Apostles, Peter and
Andrew, 374
Apple, the, represented in ancient Art as
the forbidden fruit, i. 107, 108
444
III. GENERAL INDEX.
ARK
Ark, Noah's, as represented in early and
later Art, i. 131, 132
Arms, Crucifixion on Cross with living, ii.
200
Arms of Christ, ii. 372
Art, sources and forms of Christian, i. L
The first object of Christian Art, 2.
Early symbolical forms of Christian Art,
10. Christian Sarcophagi, 13. Mural
paintings in the Catacombs, 16. Mosaics,
18. Doors of Churches, 20. Ivories, 21.
Enamels, 25. Miniatures and Block
Books, 25-30. Portraits of Christ, 31.
Remarks on the duties of, in depicting
the Person of our Lord, ii. 45, 46
Ascension of our Lord, the head corner-
stone of the Temple a type of the, i.
219. As stated in the Gospels, ii. 305.
In early Art, 306. The spot in Jeru-
salem whence it is said our Lord as-
cended into heaven, 313
Asenath, daughter of Potipherah, story of
her first meeting and marriage with
Joseph, i. 158
Asp, Christ treading on the, ii. 375
Ass, tradition which connects the, with the
entry into Jerusalem, ii. 10
Augustine Canons regular, St. Joseph the
patron saint of the, i. 274
Augustus, the Emperor, and the Tiburtine
Sybil, story of, i. 247
Baal, sacrifices of, and of the Prophet .
Elijah, on Mount Carmel, i. 221
Baptism, the passage of the Red Sea a
Scriptural Type of, i. 180
Baptistery, at Florence, wonders of Art in
the, i. 282. See INDEX TO GALLERIES, &c.
Barabbas, the robber, ii. 72
Basilisk, Christ treading on the, ii. 375
Basle churchyard, the Dance of Death
painted on the walls of, ii. 393
Bassus, Junius, tomb of, i. 225, 230
Bathsheba and David, subject of, i. 211.
Presenting Abishag the Shunamite to
David, 214. Placed by her son Solomon
on his right hand, 217. Her petition to
her son, 217
BRD
'Beatitudes, the eight,' of our Lord, in the
Sermon on the Mount, i. 320
Bede, the venerable, on the tomb of our
Lord, quoted, ii. 247
Bedford Missal, representation of the trans-
lation of Adam in the, i. 89
Beersheba, Hagar and Ishmael in the wil-
derness of, i. 143
Bel and the Dragon, apocryphal history of
i. 236
Belshazzar, Feast of, i. 236. The ttnud-
writing on the Wall, 236
Benci, Ginevra de', portrait of, i. 307
Bethesda, Pool of, Jesus' miracle at the, i.
367
Bethlehem, murder of the Innocents in.
and around, i. 260. Date of the event,
261
' Bible Histori^e,' in the Bibliotheque Tm-
pdriale. See INDEX TO GALLERIES, &c.
' Bible de Noailles,' representations of the
days of Creation in the, i. 71. Specula-
tions of the monkish commentators on
the, 81. The Lord accusing Adam and
Eve, in the, 110. The expulsion from
Paradise, 112. The burial of Moses in
the, 185, 186. See INDEX TO GALLERIES,
&c.
' Biblia Pauperum.' See INDEX TO GAL-
LERIES, &c.
Birds, creation of, as represented at Orvieto,
i. 82
Blind leading the blind, parable of the, i.
396
Block Books, Christian Art as represented
in, i. 27
Borgherini, Pier Francesco, story of hia
house in Florence, i. 164
Bosio, i. 277
Brazen Serpent, story of the, omitted by
early artists, i. 184. Rubens' picture in
the National Gallery, 186
Brunelleschi appointed architect of the
foundling hospital in Florence, i. 263
Bruni, Lionardo, of Arezzo, establishes the
first foundling hospital in Europe at
Florence, i. 262. Gives Ghiberti the
subjects for his celebrated gates, 263
III. GENERAL INDEX.
445
Burning Bush, Moses and the, subject of
the, i. 177. Types derived by the early
commentators from this subject, 179
Buti, Lucrezia, her son Filippino, i. 306
Byzantine artists, the story of Joseph a
favourite with the, i. 160
Caiaphas, Christ brought before, ii. 48.
Dante's 'Inferno' quoted, 48. The event
as represented in Art, 48. The mocking
of our Lord before Caiaphas, as repre-
sented in early Art, 53.
Cain as an infant, i. 116. The story of
Cain and Abel as treated in Art, 118.
Mediaeval and Eastern legends, 119.
The Lord accusing Cain, 120. Killed
by Lamech, 123
Calendar, Jewish, i. 88
Calvary, Mount, the Procession to, ii. 104,
110, 118. The group of sorrowing wo-
men in the, 110. As represented in Art,
118, 119. The Stations, 120. Mania of
Christian writers for local coincidences
connected with Calvary, ii. 207.
Camel and the eye of the needle, parable
of the, i. 398
Camels not represented by the early
painters, i. 145, 148
Cana in Galilee, marriage at, i. 354.
Canaan, Jesus healing the daughter of the
woman of, i. 363.
Carlovingian Art, i. 48
Carmel, Mount, Elijah and the priests of
Baal on, i. 221
Carmelites, St. Joseph the patron saint of
the, i. 274
Cartoons, Raphael's, ii. 303, 304
Catacombs of Rome, sarcophagi discovered
in the, now in the Vatican Museum, i.
13. Mural paintings in the, 16. Date
of the Art of the, 18. See INDEX TO
GALLEKIES, £c.
Centurion, Christ healing the servant of
the, i. 364
Charlemagne's palace at Ober-Ingelheim,
ii. 138. Tomb of, at Aix-la-Chapelle, i.
320
Charles V., the Emperor, his contest with
the Roman Church, i. 324. Supposed
portrait of, ii. 294
Chartreuse, Paris, i. 363
Children, Christ blessing little, i. 328
Children, the Three, in the furnace, i.
232-234. Song of the, 234.
Christ, portraits of, i. 31. Images of, in
gold and silver, 32. The bronze group
formerly at Csesarea, 32. In the 2nd and
3rd centuries, 33. In the 4th century,
34. -The letter of Lentulus, describing
the Person of Christ, 35. Description of
St. John of Damascus, 35. Story of King
Abgarus of Edessa, and the portrait of
Christ, 36-40. The St. Veronica legend,
41. The Saviour's features, as given in
Christian Art, 45. Urged to redeem man
by the remonstrances of the angels, 55.
Our Lord as represented in Art as the
Creator, 66. Authorities for this in the
Old and New Testaments, 66. Blessing
the Seventh Day, 77. Resting on the
Seventh Day, 79. Creating fishes and
birds, 82. Creating other animals, 83.
Creating Adam, 89. Giving Adam the
spade and keys of the garden of Eden,
92. Marrying Adam and Eve, 98, 99.
Commencement of the personal relation
of Christ to man, 100. Christ giving the
Wheatsheaf and Lamb to Adam and Eve,
103. Accusing Adam and Eve, 110. Abel
a type of our Lord, 118. Christ in the
Burning Bush appearing to Moses, 178.
Type of the Baptism of Christ, 223.
Texts of the Prophets which allude to
the scheme of Christ's life and death,
241. The Sibylline predictions, 245.
Joseph, Christ's protector and foster-
father, 273. Legend of the Infant
Christ and the schoolmaster Zaccheus,
274. The spurious ' Gospel of the In-
fancy,' 276. Christ disputing with the
doctors, 277. This subject how treated
in Art, 277-280. St. John the Baptist,
in the relation in which he stood to
Christ, 281. The Baptism of our Lord
by St. John, 294. Tradition respecting
the place at which the Baptism took
446
III. GENERAL INDEX.
CHR
place, 296. The temptation of Christ in
the wilderness, 310. Ministering of the
angels to our Lord in the wilderness, 315.
His expulsion of the money-changers from
the Temple, 316. Christ as a Teacher,
318. The Sermon on the Mount, 319.
The teaching in the Temple, or the Syna-
gogue, 321. Christ preaching from the
ship, 322. In the house of Martha and
Mary, 325. Blessing little children, 328.
The woman taken in adultery, 332.
Christ and the woman of Samaria, 337.
The Transfiguration, 340. The miracles,
347-373. The calling of the first two
Apostles, Peter and Andrew, 374. The
parables, 375-398. Christ's Passion, ii.
1. The entry into Jerusalem, 5. Christ
weeping over the city of Jerusalem, 11.
Washing the disciples' feet, 12. The
Last Supper, 18. The Agony in the
Garden, 24. The Betrayal, 34. Christ
brought before Annas, 44. And before
Caiaphas, 48. The Mocking before
Caiaphas, and the denial of our Lord
by St. Peter, 53. Brought before Pilate,
61. The mocking before Herod, 62.
Brought a second time before Pilate, 65.
The Flagellation, 71. Christ after the
Flagellation, 81. The crowning with
Thorns, 84. The Ecce Homo, 91. Christ
bearing His Cross, 100. His words
addressed to the sorrowing women, 110.
The Stations, 120. Christ stripped of
His garments, 122. The Virgin wrapping
the linen cloth round His body, 1 26. Our
Lord offered the cup to drink, 127.
Christ ascending the Cross, 129. The
nailing to the Cross, 130. The elevation
of the Cross, 134. The Crucifixion, 136.
The descent from the Cross, 213. The
lamentation over His body, 226. The
Virgin and the dead Christ alone, 235.
The Virgin and the dead Christ with
angels, 236. The bearing of His body
to the Sepulchre, 238. The Entomb-
ment, 243. Remarks on our Lord's
temporary resting-place, 247. The de-
scent into Limbus, or Christ delivering
CON
souls, 250. The Resurrection, 263. His
appearance to the Virgin, 276. The
Apparitions of our Lord, 277. His
appearance to the Magdalen, 278. His
appearance to the Maries, 286. His
journey to Emmaus, 287. The Supper
ut Emmaus, 292. The unbelief of
Thomas, 298. Jesus appearing at the
Sea of Tiberias, 302. His charge to
Peter, 303. The Ascension, 305. The
Cross borne by our Lord as Second
Person of the Trinity, 322. Christ as
the Lamb, 335. As the Good Shepherd,
340. As Second Person of the Trinity,
345. Christ represented in a glory, which
is sometimes borne by angels, 353.
Dead Christ, erect in the Tomb, showing
His wounds, 360. Dead Christ in the
Tomb, supported by angels, or sacred
personages, 362. Dead Christ in Tomb,
with Virgin Mary and St. John, 363.
The Man of Sorrows, 366. The arms of
Christ, 371. Christ enthroned, 372. Sal-
vator Mundi, 374. Christ treading on
asp and basilisk, on young lion and
dragon, 375. Christ as a preacher, 376.
Christ treading the wine-press, 376. II
Salvatore, 377. Christ as a pilgrim, 377.
Representations of the Infant Jesus, 378.
Intercession, 382. The idea of Christ
in the character of Judge, 397. Types
of Christ, see TYPES
' Christ and Al>garus,' apocryphal gospel
of, i. 36
Church, the Rest of the, ii. 356. As repre-
sented in Art, 356, 357.
Churches, ancient, the basilica form of, i.
19. Christian Art as represented on the
doors of, 20
Ciampini, ii. 48, 333
Cimmerian Sibyl, the, i. 251
Cleopas, his meeting with Christ, ii.
287
Commandments, Ten, subject of Moses re-
ceiving the tables of the, i. 183
Compass, symbol of the, in representations
of the Creation, i. 72, 73
Constantine Porphyro^enitus, the Emperor,
III. GENERAL INDEX.
447
CON
his versions of the legend of the Ab-
irarus portrait of Christ, i. 37-40
Constantine, the cross of, or Labarum, ii.
315, 316
Corpus Christ!, Feast of the, sacred plays,
mysteries, or pageants performed on the,
ii. 364
Cowley, Abraham, his 'Davideis' quoted,
i. 119
Creation, mural paintings representing the,
at Monreale, i. 63. The angels made
typical of the days of Creation, 65. The
mosaics of St. Mark's, 65. Connection
between the history of the creation of
the world and the history of our Lord,
66. Christ represented as the Creator,
66. Amplification of the Scripture lan-
guage in early theology, 67. The six
periods of the history of the world, 67.
Theories as regarded the Persons and
modes of Creation, 67, 68. Effect of
these theories upon Art, 69. Early minia-
tures representing the Days of Crea-
tion, 70 et seq. Effect of the theological
speculations of the schoolmen on the Art
of the 14th century, 74, 81. ' II Map-
pamondo ' of the Italians, 74. Those in
the British Museum arid on the walls
of the Campo Santo, 74. Representa-
tions of the Days of Creation in the
mosaics of St. Mark's Cathedral, 75.
Series of the Days of Creation on the
walls of Monreale, 78. And on the
Cathedral of Orvieto, 82
Creation of Adam. See ADAM
Creation of Eve. See EVE
Creed, composition of the twelve sentences
of the, i. 243
' Croce, Esaltazione della,' Feast of the, ii.
390
Cross, mvstical and typical connection be-
tween it and the Tree of Knowledge of
good and evil, i. 108. Christ bearing
His Cross, ii. 100. As represented in
early Art, 101. In later Art, 102. The
Bearing of the Cross the earliest subject
in the Procession to Calvary, 104, 105.
Roman Catholic churches dedicated to
CRU
the Cross, 105. Taddeo Gaddi's frescoes,
105-107. The group of sorrowing wo-
men following Christ to Calvary, 110.
The first representations of our Lord
sinking to the ground under His burden,
114. Silence of the Evangelists as to
the causes which induced the soldiers
to compel the services of Simon, 115.
Suggestion of Nicholas de Lira, 115.
Christ ascending the Cross, 129. The
nailing to the Cross, 130. The elevation
of the Cross, 134. History of the sign
of the Cross, 314. The monogram of
Christ, 315. Bread marked with the
cross, 316. The Labarum, or cross of
Constantine, 315, 316. First appearance
of the cross on coins, 318. Its approach
to the conditions of the crucifix, 321.
The cross derived from the Tau, 321,
322. The Greek cross, 321, 322. The
Latin cross, 322. The cross of our Lord
as Second Person of the Trinity, 322.
The cross of the Resurrection, 323. The
cross of the Baptist, 323. The Patriar-
chal cross, or cross of Lorraine, 323.
The Papal cross, 323. The cross of St.
Andrew, 323. The cross of Jerusalem,
or Crusader's cross, 323. The Irish
cross, or cross of lona, 324. The Pec-
toral cross, 324. History of the true
Cross, 385
Crowning of our Lord with thorns, ii. 84
Crucifix, history of the, ii. 325. The first
notices of the existence of a, 326. In-
junctions of the Council in Trullo, 326.
The images of Christ proscribed by Leo
the Isaurian, 327. Early pectoral cross,
328. The cross of Lothario, 329. The
Hohenlohe Siegmaringen crucifix, 330,
332. Objects represented on the reverse
of early crucifixes, 331. Crowned cruci-
fixes, 333
Crucifixion of our Lord, ii. 136. Pictorial
history of the event, 137. Various
classes of the crucifixion as represented
in Art, 139, 140
— the Crucifixion symbolically treated, ii.
141
448
III. GENERAL INDEX.
CRU
Crucifixion, with the Virgin and St. John,
ii. 149. Occasional solecisms and errors
of taste, 157-159
— with lance and sponge, ii. 160. The
legend of Longinus, 160
— with the thieves, ii. 164. Legends re-
specting them, 165
- with angels, ii. 172
— with the Virgin fainting, ii. 179. The
subject in its course through Art, 181
— with the Virgin, St. John, and saints,
ii. 184
— with Magdalen, ii. 185
— with the Maries, ii. 187
— doctrinal Crucifixion, by Fra Angelico,
ii. 188
— the Tree of the Cross, ii. 194. The
origin of L'Arbre de la Croix, 194
— crucifixion on Cross with living arms,
ii. 200
— the soldiers dividing our Lord's robe,
ii. 203
— the Crucifixion with the figure of Christ
alone ii. 205
— the figure of Adam connected with the
Crucifixion, ii. 207
— the Crucifixion considered as a whole,
ii. 209
— the descent from the Cross, ii. 213
Crusaders, cross of the, ii. 323
Cumsean Sibyl, the, i. 251, 252. Michael
Angelo's conception of her, 253. Ra-
phael's, 256
Curzon, Hon. Robert, his account of Moses,
compiled from Coptic legends, i. 175.
His remarks on the ancient mode of re-
presenting our Lord Crucified, ii. 142
Dalmatic, the embroidered, in St. Peter's,
Rome, i. 328
Dance of Death, ii. 393
Daniel, history of, i. 232. As represented
in Art, 232. The three children in
the furnace, 232-234. Nebuchadnezzar's
dream, 231. The Handwriting on the
Wall, 236. The apocryphal history of
Daniel, given under the name of Bel and
the Dragon, 236. Daniel cast into the
DEL
lion's den, 237. Visit of Habakkuk the
prophet, 237. Michael Angelo's concep-
tion of him, 255. Text from Daniel
which alludes to the scheme of Christ's
life and death, 241. Daniel as repre-
sented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 191. His vision of the
' Ancient of Days,' 394
Dante, his ' Inferno ' quoted, ii. 251, 412
David, the closest type of Christ afforded
by the Scriptures, i. 201. Analogies
for the cycles of mediteval Art suggested
by his history, 201. The three classes
of representations of David, 201. Those
of an abstract character, 201. The
typical and historical, 202. Those sug-
gested by the language of the Psalms,
202. Those on the Catacombs, 201, 202.
David playing the harp, 202, 203. Be-
tween Wisdom and Prophecy, 202, 204.
Accessories by which he is known in later
words, 203. Pictures in the form of a
cassone, 204. The anointing, 205.
His victory over the lion and bear,
205. His encounter with Goliath, 206.
His triumph, 208, 209. Saul's jealousy
and treachery, 210. Various subjects
in David's history used as types in Bibles
and Speculums, 210. The subject of
Bathsheba, 211. Nathan before David,
212, 213. Curse of Shimei, 213. Hia
flight from Absalom, 213. Death of the
seven sons of Saul, 213. The 'three
mighty men of David,' 214. The num-
bering of the people, 214. Abishag the
Shunamite presented by Bathsheba to
David, 214. Representations of David
which particularly illustrate the Psalms,
215. David as represented in Fra
Angelico's great picture of the Cruci-
fixion, ii. 191
Day, the, as represented in the ' Bible de
Noailles,' i. 71
Delilah and Samson, story of, as represented
in Art, i. 197
Delphic Sibyl, the, i. 251. Michael Angelo's,
254
i Deluge, the, a type of redemption through
III. GENERAL INDEX.
440
DES
baptism, i. 126. How treated by various
artists, 128
Descent from the Cross, ii. 213. Joseph of
Arimathea and Nicodemus, 213. Con-
ditions of the subject of the Descent
from the Cross, 214. How represented
in Art, 214. S. Buonaventura's descrip-
tion, 218. The Descent from the Cross,
hewn from the rock in Westphalia, 219
Didron, M., his ' Guide de la Peinture
Grecque,' i. 30, 59, 161 ; ii. 110, 115,
200 note
Dinah, story of, as represented in Art, i.
155
Dionysius h, Rich el, his dialogues on the
Passion of our Lord quoted, ii. 126
Dionysius the Areopagite, i. 243. As re-
presented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 191
Diptychs, Christian Art as represented on,
i. 21
Dives and Lazarus, parable of, i. 378, 379
' Divinity, the,' Adam's book on, i. 88
Doctors, Christ disputing with the, i. 277
Dove, symbol of the, in Christian Art, i.
12. The Dove moving over the waters,
i. 78, 80. A double-headed dove, the
peculiar attribute of the prophet Elisha,
224
Drachm, the lost, parable of, i. 397
Dragon, Christ treading on the, ii. 375
Dream, Pharaoh's, i. 161. Joseph's, 164,
165
Earth, creation of the, as represented in
the ' Bible de Noailles,' i. 71
Eastern Church, saints of the, i. 228
Ecce Homo, the, ii. 91. As represented in
Art, 91. Comparatively a late subject,
92. The Dutch and Spanish masters,
92-96. First appearance of the Ecce
Homo in Italy, 96. The Eucharistic
Ecce Homo, 361. The Eucharistic Ecce
Homo standing on the altar before St.
Gregory, 369
Eden, Garden of, i. 91. Adam in the, 91.
Christ giving Adam the spade and keys
of the, 92. The Serpent in the, 101
VOL. II. 3
ESA.
Egyptians, honours paid by them to Joseph,
under various titles, i. 157
Eleazar meeting Rebekah at the well, i.
143-145, 148
Elijah the Tishbite, his translation, as re
presented in Art, i. 125. Sometimes
considered as a type of our Lord, 220.
His name, 220. Especially a type of
John the Baptist, 220. Analogy be-
tween the life of Elijah and that of
Moses, 220. The feeding by ravens by
the brook Cherith, 221. The meeting
with the widow of Sarepta, 221. The
rival sacrifices of Elijah and of the priests
of Baal on Mount Carmel, 221. Elijah
on Mount Horeb, 221. Taken up into
heaven, 221. Giving his mantle and
spirit to Elisha, 222
Elisha, a type of Christ, i. 223. Meaning
of his name, 223. Subject of the sons
of the prophets coming to meet him at
Bethel, 223. The raising of the Shuna-
mite's son, 223. The immolation of the
son of the King of Moab, 223. Wash-
ing of Naaman the Syrian in the river
Jordan, 223. The peculiar attribute of
Elisha, 223, 224
Elizabeth, mother of St. John the Baptist,
i. 290, 291. Escapes from the massacre
at Bethlehem, 260, 292
Emmaus, the journey of our Lord to, ii.
287. The supper at, 292
Enamels, Christian Art, as represented on,
i. 25
Enoch, his translation, i. 124, 125. As
represented in Art, 1 25
Enos, as represented in Art, 5. 124.
Entombment of Christ, ii. 243. The two
forms under which the Entombment is
represented in Art, 243, 244. Sameness
of the features of the Entombment, 246.
llemai-ks on the temporary resting-place
of our Lord, 247
Ephraim, Jacob blessing, i. 169
Erythraean Sibyl, the, i. 251 , 252. Michael
Angelo's, 254
Esau, induced to sell his birthright, i.
152
450
III. GENERAL INDEX.
BUS
Eusebius, i. 32, 36. His view of the predic-
tions of the Sibyls, i. 246
Eve, creation of, i. 93. Typical meaning of
the. according to the patristic writers,
93. Speculations of later writers, 94, 95.
Literal rendering of the subject in early
Art, 95. Later representations, 95-98.
Her marriage with Adam, 98. Listen-
ing to the serpent, 100. The Fall, 102.
The temptation, 106. The fruit of the
forbidden tree, 107, 108. Adam and
Eve hiding in the Garden, 109. The
Lord accusing them, 109. The coat of
skins, 111. The angel giving Eve a
spindle, 111. The expulsion from Para-
dise, 112. Mahometan legends of Adam
and Eve, 115. Representations of their
life in their fallen condition, 115. Their
lamentation over the body of Abel,
121
Ezekiel, text from, alluding to the scheme
of Christ's life and death, i. 241. Michael
Angelo's conception of, 254. As repre-
sented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 192.
Fall of the rebel angels. See ANGELS
Fall of man, i. 102. Early representation,
103. Of the 13th century, 104. Sym-
bol of the waters of Paradise, 106
Ficino, Marcilio, i. 307
Fish, symbol of the, in Christian Art, i.
11
Fishes, creation of, as represented at Or-
vieto, i. 82. The miraculous draught of,
372
Flagellation of Christ, type of the, i. 227.
Isaiah's prediction of this event, 241.
Remarks on the Flagellation, ii. 71. The
number of stripes allowed by the Levitical
code, 72, 73. No limit assigned by the
Roman law, 73. The Flagellation of
Christ as represented in Art, 74. Christ
after the Flagellation, 81
Florence, story of the Casa Borgherini in, i.
164. Siege of, by the French, 165. The
first foundling hospital in Europe at, 262.
St. John the Baptist, the patron saint of
HAG
283, 287. His birthday kept as a great
festival in, 290.
Forbidden tree, fruit of the, i. 107, 108
Foundling hospital, the first in Europe, i.
262. Imitated in other parts of Italy,
263
Frederic Barbarossa, Emperor, his chan-
delier over the tomb of Charlemagne,
i. 320
Galla Placidia, coins of, bearing the cross,
ii. 318. Chapel of, at Ravenna, 318
Garment, soldiers dividing our Lord's, ii.
203
Gaza, Samson carrying off the gates of, i.
196. A type of our Lord's Resurrection,
196
Gehazi, the covetous servant of Elisha, i.
223
Gethsemane, the agony of our Lord in the
garden of, ii. 24
Gibeonites, Joshua and the, i. 190
Gideon, history of, as represented in Art, i.
192. The sign requested by Gideon a
type of the Incarnation, 192, 193. His
conquest over the Midianites, 193
Glory, Christ in ; sometimes borne by
angels, ii. 353. In Anglo-Saxon and
Anglo-French Art, 353. In the 10th
century, 354, 355
Gnostic heresy of the phantom taking the
place of Christ on the Cross, ii. 325
' God's wounds,' the oath, ii. 233
Goliath, his encounter with David, i. 206
Gomorrah, destruction of, i. 140
Goshen, land of, i. 156
Gospel, the apocryphal, called the 'Infancy
of Jesus Christ,' i. 276. Of the two thieves
who were crucified with our Lord, ii. 165
Greek Church, place given to the story of
Joseph in the, i. 161
Greek cross, the, ii. 321, 322
Habakkuk, his supernatural visit to Daniel
in the lions' den, i. 237. As represented
in Art, 238. His prophecy respecting
our Lord, 242,
Hagar, history of, i. 141. St. Paul's appli-
III. GENERAL INDEX.
451
HAG
cation and interpretation of it, 141. Her
flight and return, 142. The casting out
of Hagar and Ishmael, 142. Hagar in
the wilderness of Beersheba, 143
Haggai, his prophecy respecting our Lord,
i. 242
Handel, sublimity of his ' Israel in Egypt,'
i. 179
Hannah, song of, compared with that of
the Virgin, i. 199
Healing the sick, lame, blind, &c., Christ's
miracles of, i. 362
Ileliodorus, Chamber of, i. 123
Hell, Jaws of, allegorical pictures of the,
ii. 258. Early representations of hell in
pictures of the Last Judgment, 412
Henry VIII., King of England, portrait
of, i. 215
Heraclius, Emperor, ii. 389
Herod, his murder of the Innocents, i. 259.
His generally cruel character, 259. His
reasons for the massacre of the Jewish
infants in and around Bethlehem, 260.
Tradition of his murder of Zacharias,
260. -Date of the murder of the Beth-
lehemite children, 261. Puts his son
Antipater to death, 261. His body-
guard of Gauls and Germans, 265.
Christ sent by Pilate to Herod, ii.
62
Herod, Antipas, and Herodias, St. John
reproving them, i. 298. Salome dancing
before them, 298. And carrying the
head of the Baptist to Herodias, 299.
Herod's punishment, 304
Herbert, George, on the Betrayal of Christ,
quoted, ii. 38
Hohenlohe Siegmaringen crucifix, ii. 330,
332
Horeb, Mount, Elijah on, listening to the
still small voice, i. 221
Hosanna Sunday in the Syrian and Egyp-
tian churches, ii. 11
Hosea, text from, alluding to the scheme
of Christ's life and death, i. 241. As
represented in early Art, 244
Hugo, Cardinal, as represented in Fra An-
gelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 192
ISR
' Inchiodazione,' the, ii. 130
Infant Christ, the, as represented in Art,
ii. 370
Innocent III., Pope, his hymn the ' Stabat
Mater,' ii. 179
Innocent V., Pope, as represented in Fra
Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 192.
Innocents, Murder of the, i. 259. Re-
corded only by St. Matthew, 259. Ob-
jections taken to the statement, from
this fact, 259. Herod's reasons for the
massacre, 260. Jeremy Taylor's de-
scription of the event, 260. Number of
babes killed, 261, 265. Date of the
murder, 261. The Innocents regarded
as Christian martyrs, 261. Churches
dedicated to their honour in England,
261. The event as represented in Art,
261-272. Causes of the sudden popu-
larity of the story of the Innocents in
Italy in the 15th century, 262, 263. First
introduction of the subject into a strictly
devotional picture, 264. Locality of the
massacre, 265. Marini's poem, ' Lo
Strage degli Innocent!,' 270. Escape of
Elizabeth with the Infant St. John from
the massacre, 292
Intercession, the class of pictures called,
ii. 382
Irish cross, the, or cross of lona, ii. 324
Isaac, a type of our Lord, i. 133. Story of
Abraham and Isaac, as represented in
Art, 133. Isaac receiving Rebekah aa
his bride, 145. His story, as represented
in the Campo Santo, at Pisa, 147, 148,
Pencz's series, 148
Isaiah on the nature of Lucifer's crime, i.
57. On the wings of seraphs, 57. Texts
from Isaiah which allude to the scheme
of Christ's life and death, 241. Isaiah as
represented in an ancient Greek Psalter,
244. Michael Angelo's conception of
him, 256. As represented in Fra Ange-
lico's great Crucifixion, ii. 191
Ishmael, story of, i. 142, 147. In the wil-
derness of Beersheba, 143
Israel and Amalek, fight between, in Rephi-
dim, i. 183
452
III. GENERAL INDEX.
ISR
Israelites crossing the Jordan, i. 188, 191.
Burning Jericho, 189. Repulsed by the
men of Ai, 189. Destroying Ai, 190.
Fighting the five kings, 190. Their sins
as recorded in the book of Judges, 192.
Ivories, Christian Art as represented on, i.
21. Diptychs, 21. Triptychs, 24. Chair
of S. Maximian, at Eavenna, 24. Ivory
caskets, 24.
Jacob, a patriarchal type of our Lord, i.
149. Mystical signification of some
events of his life, 149. His vision of the
ladder, 149. The wrestling with the
angel, 151. His history as represented
by various artists, 152-155. In series
of groups or scenes, 154. Mystical sig-
nificance given to his two wives, 154.
His meeting with Joseph, 168, 169. His
reception by Pharaoh, 169. His blessing
bestowed upon Ephraim and Manasseh,
169. His burial by Joseph, 170. Jacob
as represented in Fra Angelico's great
Crucifixion, ii. 191
Jael slaying Sisera in her tent, i. 192
Jairus, the miracle of the raising of the
daughter of, i. 361
James and John, petition of, i. 320, 321
Jephthah, one of the minor types of our
Lord, i. 194. His defeat of the Am-
monites, 194. His sacrifice of his daugh-
ter, 194
Jeremiah, text from, which alludes to the
scheme of Christ's life and death, i. 241.
Michael Angelo's conception of Jeremiah,
254. As represented in Fra Angelico's
great Crucifixion, ii. 191
Jericho, destruction of, i. 189, 191
Jerusalem, the entry of our Lord into, ii. 5.
The event as represented in Art, 5. The
garments spread in the way, 8. The
clothes cast by the disciples upon the
animal's back, 9. Christ weeping over
the city of, 11. The stations of our
Lord's journey from Jerusalem to Cal-
vary, illustrated by buildings and arches,
121. Locality on Mount of Olives
whence our Lord ascended into heaven,
JOS
313. The cross of Jerusalem, or Cru-
sader's cross, 323
Jethro's daughters, subjects of, in the Sis-
tine Chapel, i. 177
Jewish calendar, institution of certain
feasts and fasts of the, attributed to
Adam, i. 88
Jews, their disputes with the people of
Samaria, i. 338
Joab slaying Absalom, i. 213
Job, his history, i. 225. His patience and
sufferings, 225. Considered by St. Je-
rome to be a* figure of Christ, 225. As
represented in early Art, 225, 226. His
wife, 227. His triumph, 227. Intro-
duced into pictures before the throne of
the Madonna, 228. Feasting of his sons
and daughters, 229. Blake's ' Book of
Job,' 229. The Almighty appearing to
Job in a whirlwind, 230. Job as repre-
sented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 192
Joel, text from, alluding to the scheme of
Christ's life and death, i. 241. Michael
Angelo's conception of Joel, 256
John the Baptist, Elijah the Tishbite a
type of, i. 220.
John and James, petition of, i. 320, 321
Jonah, history of the prophet, i. 238. A
figure of the Burial and Resurrection
of Christ, i. 238. As represented in
early Art, 238, 244. And in later works,
239. His prophecy respecting Christ,
242. Michael Angelo's conception of
him, 255
Jordan, Israelites crossing the, i. 188, 191
Jordanus of Alemania, as represented in
Fra Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 192
Joseph, the sixth patriarchal type of our
Lord, i. 156. Analogies traced by the
Fathers between his history and that of
Christ, 156. His story the favourite
theme of Oriental and Jewish fables,
157. Honours paid to him by the
Egyptians, 157. The apocryphal letters
between Pharaoh and Joseph, 157.
Story of his first meeting and marriage
with Asenath, 158. His history as re-
III. GENERAL INDEX.
453
JOS
presented in early Art, 160. Place
given to him in the Greek Church, 161.
Legend of his dropping wheat in the
river, 162. The productions of later
Art, 163. The episode of Potiphar's
wife, 167. Making himself known to
his brethren, 167, 168. The meeting
with his father, 168, 169. Jacob bless-
ing Joseph's sons, 169. Joseph's
burial of his father Jacob, 170
Joseph, husband of the Virgin, i. 273. As
the protector and foster-father of Christ,
273. As represented in Art, 273, 274.
As patron saint of the Carmelites, St.
Theresa, and the Augustin Canons re-
gular, 274. His dream, 275
Joseph of Arimathea, begs the body of
Christ from Pilate, ii. 211. Supports
His body in the descent from the Cross,
218. At the bearing of the body to the
Sepulchre, 238
Joshua, the eighth type of our Lord, i.
187. His name, 187. His history as
represented in early Christian Art, 187.
The antique 'volumen ' in the Vatican,
giving the history of Joshua, 187. In
later Art, 191
Judas on his errand of betrayal, ii. 24.
The Betrayal, as narrated in the New
Testament, 34. As represented in Art,
35. The subject of the kiss of Judas,
36, 39. Chief details of the life and
death of Judas, 59. As represented in
Art, 59, 60
Judgment, the Last, as represented in Art,
ii. 392. No traces to be found prior to
the llth century, 392. Places of the
Last Judgment in ecclesiastical archi-
tecture, 393. Ancient doubts regarding
the doctrine of the general Ptesurrection,
393. Features comprised in a complete
representation of the Last Judgment,
proper to the Latin Church, 393, 394,
397. And to the Greek Church, 394.
As represented in Art South and North
of the Alps, 399, 400. The sacred
persons surrounding our Lord, 401.
The attendant angels, 403. The rising
and risen dead, as represented in
sculpture, 405. And in painting, 406.
Early representations of hell in pictures
of the Last Judgment, 412. The blessed
on the right hand of the Lord, 414.
Fra Angelico's picture, 414
Judges, book of, i. 192
Junius Bassus, representation of the Fall
of Man on the tomb of, i. 103. And of
Abraham and Isaac, 133
Justin, Emperor, cross presented by him
to Pope Gregory II., ii. 321
Knowledge, Tree of, i. 107, 108. Mystic
and typical connection between it and
the Cross, 108
Laban, Jacob contrives to overreach, i.
152
Labarum, cross of Constantine on, ii. 315,
316
Labourers in the vineyard, parable of the,
i. 394
Lactantius, on the predictions of the
Sibyls, i. 246
Lamb, Christ as the, ii. 335. The earliest
representations of the, 335. Apocalyptic
versions, 336. The form indicative of
the Crucifixion and yet typical, 336.
The Paschal Lamb worn by the Faith-
ful, 336. The Lamb carrying the cross
or banner to which the Baptist points,
337. Impulse given to the symbol of
the Lamb in the 14th and 15th centuries,
337. The great picture of the brothers
Van Eyck, 338, 339
Lamech kills Cain, i. 123. Jewish tradi-
tion respecting this event, 124. His
blindness, 124. His two wives, 124
' L'Arbre de la Croix,' description of, ii.
194
Latin Cross, the, ii. 322
Lazarus, Raising of, by Sebastiano del
Piombo, i. 346, 359. Importance of this
miracle in early religious cycles, 348,
356. As represented in various works
of Art, 348, 357
Lazarus and the Rich Man, parable of, i.
454
III. GENERAL INDEX.
LEA
378, 379. Regarded as a saint, 378.
Lazar-houses dedicated to him, 378
Leah, mystical significance given to, i. 154
Lentulus, Publius, his letter describing
the Person of Christ, i. 35
Leo the Isaurian, his proscription of
images of Christ, ii. 327
Letters, invention of, attributed to Adam,
i. 88
Libyan Sibyl, Michael Angelo's, i. 253
Light, division of, from Darkness, i. 76.
Raphael's picture of the Almighty creat-
ing Light, 84, 85
Limbus, type of the delivery of souls from,
i. 219. The Descent into, or Christ de-
livering souls, ii. 250. The early
theologians on the subject, 250. The
belief which obtained in the Greek and
Latin Churches, 250. Dante's 'Inferno'
quoted, 251. The description of the
Descent into Hell from the ' Gospel of
Nicodemus,' 252. The allegorical pic-
tures of the Jaws of Hell, 258. The
Descent into Limbus as represented in
Art, 259
Limoges enamels, i. 25
Lion, young, Christ treading on the, ii.
375
Lira, Nicholas de, on the reason why
Simon was summoned to carry the
Cross, ii. 115
Loaves and fishes, miracle of the, i. 349
Longinus, the soldier whq pierced the
Lord's side, ii. 160. Origin of the
legend of his name, 160. Legend of
his having received his sight, 161
Lorraine, cross of, ii. 323
Lot, doctrinal significance given to the
story of, i. 139. Events in the story,
as represented in Art, 140. The warn-
ings of the two angels, 140. His escape
from Sodom, 140. His intoxication
in the cavern above Zoar, 140, 141.
His history as represented in the Campo
Santo, at Pisa, 147
Lothario, cross of, ii. 329
Lucifer, fall of, and of the rebel angels, i.
54. Milton's 'Paradise Lost' quoted,
MAR
55. The character and personality of
Lucifer, according to preachers in the
Middle Ages, 56. Nature of his crime,
57. Speculation on the symbolism of
his wings, 57. Versions of the origin
of Lucifer's pride, 57, 58. His crown
as lightbearer, 58. Lucifer as repre-
sented in the ' Speculum Salvationis,"
60
Luther, Martin, introduced into a picture
of the Baptist, i. 296
Lyre, symbol of the, in Christian Art, i.
12
Macheronta, St. John the Baptist im-
prisoned in the fortress of, i. 298. Be-
headed there, 299
Madonna della Famiglia Ansidei, St. John
in Raphael's picture of the, i. 287
Madonna di Foligno, St. John in the pic-
ture of the, i. 287
Magdalen, representations of her in Cruci-
fixions, ii. 185, 186. Her visit to the
tomb of Christ, 272. His appearance to
her, 278
Mahometans, their legends of Adam and
Eve, i. 115
Malachi, his prophecy respecting our Lord,
i. 242
Malchus, incident of St. Peter and, ii.
42
Man, creation of, i. 86. Fall of, 102.
Commencement of the personal relation
of Christ to, 102
Man of Sorrows, the, as represented in
Art, ii. 366
Manasseh, Jacob blessing, i. 169
Manna, Israelites gathering the, i. 182
Manoah and his wife, their burnt-offering,
i. 195
' Mappamondo, II,' of the Italians, i. 74
Maries, representations of the Crucifixion
with the, ii. 187
Marini's poem, 'Lo Strage degli Innocenti,'
i. 270
Martha and Mary, visit of Christ to, i. 325-
327
Mary, Mother of our Lord, representations
III. GENERAL INDEX.
455
MAS
of the Temptation and Pall in churches
dedicated to, i. 108. See VIRGIN
Mass of St. Gregory, ii. 369
Medici family, patron saints of the, i. 2S7
Melchisedec, a type of our Lord, i. 136.
His meeting with Abraham, 136. Mean-
ing of the name, 136. As represented
in Art, 137, 138
Micah, his prophecy respecting our Lord,
i. 242
Michael, the Archangel, as the captain of
the armies of the Lord, i. 59. Raphael's
picture in the Louvre, 61. Other works,
61. Weighing the souls at the Last
Judgment, 408
Michal letting David down through a
window, i. 210
Midianites, Gideon's conquest of the, i.
193
Millennium, the popular expectation of the,
in the 10th century, ii. 392
Milman, Dean, his hymn for Good Friday,
quoted, ii. 142
Miiton on the divine intention to create
man, quoted, i. 55
Miniatures, Christian Art as represented
in, i. 25
Miracles of our Lord, i. 347. Their im-
portance as artistic representations, 347.
The conversion of the water into wine,
347. Kaising of Lazarus, 348, 356. The
multiplication of the loaves and fishes,
349. The Marriage at Cana in Galilee,
354. The resurrection of the daughter
of Jairus and that of the son of the
widow of Nain, 360, 361. The miracles
of healing, 362. The healing of the
daughter of the woman of Canaan, 363.
The healing of the centurion's servant,
364. The Pool at Bethesda, 367. Heal-
ing the blind, 370. Feeding five thousand
men with five loaves and two fishes, 370.
The miraculous draught of fishes, 372
Miriam the prophetess, song of, i. 182
Missal, the Roman, compiled by Gregory
the Great, ii. 369
Moab, immolation of the son of the King
of, i. 223
NAI
Mockings, the Three, of scholastic history,
ii. 47. The mocking before Caiaphas,
53. Before Herod, 62. Before Pilate,
84,87
Money changers expelled by Christ from
the Temple, i. 316
Moon, the, as represented in the ' Bible de
Noailles,' i. 71. In a miniature in the
British Museum, 80
Mosaics, Christian Art as shown by, i. 18
' Moses, Book of the Prophet,' apocryphal,
quoted, i. 108
Moses, the seventh patriarchal type of our
Lord, i. 171. His history the prefigura-
tion of the Christian dispensation, 171.
Origin of the horns affixed to the
effigies of Moses, 171, 172. Regular
series of the Life of Moses, 172. The
finding of Moses by the daughter of
Pharaoh, 173, 174. Jewish and Coptic
legends, 174, 175. Moses' choice, 175,
176. Pictures of his appearance after
slaying the Egyptian in the land of
Midian, 177. The subject of Moses and
the Burning Bush, 177. The ordinance
of the Passover, 1 79. The passage of the
Red Sea and overthrow of Pharaoh's
host, 180. The Israelites gathering the
manna, 182. The Song of Miriam, 182.
Moses striking the Rock, 182. Sub-
ject of his receiving the Tables of the
Law, 183. His especial character of
Lawgiver, 184. The story of the Bra-
zen Serpent, 184. His death, 185, 186.
Analogy between his history and that of
Elijah, 220
Mount, the Sermon on the, i. 319
Myrrhophores, the three, of the Greek
Church, ii. 273, 286
Naaman, washing of, in the Jordan, i. 223
Naeor, his accusation of Abraham and
death, i. 146
Nahab ascending Mount Sinai, i. 184
Nahum, his prophecy respecting our Lord,
i. 242
Nain, miracle of the resurrection of the
son of the widow of, i. 361
456
III. GENERAL INDEX.
NAT
Nathan before David, i. 212, 213
Nebuchadnezzar's dreams, i. 235
Nicodemus, the carved image at Lucca said
to have been his work, i. 43. Christ in-
structing him, 325. Assists in burying
the bod}' of Christ, ii. 211. At the bear-
ing of His body to the Sepulchre, 238
' Nicodemus, Gospel of,' i. 4, 303. On Lim-
bus, ii. 252, 253. On the history of the
good thief, 261
Night, the, as represented in the 'Bible de
Noailles,' i. 71
Noah, tradition respecting, and the bones of
Adam, i. 122. A type of our Lord, 126.
Meaning of his name, 126. Story of
Noah as represented in early Art, 126.
And in later Art, 127. The command to
build the Ark, 127. Building of the
Ark, 128. The Deluge, 128. Noah's
sacrifice and thanksgiving, 129. His
intoxication, 130
Nuremberg, the Stations imported into,
from the East, ii. 121. Adam Kraft's
reliefs, 121
Obadiah, his prophecy respecting our Lord,
i. 241
Ober-Ingelheim, wall-paintings in Charle-
magne's Chapel at, ii. 138
Osiris, traces of honours paid by the Egyp-
tians to the patriarch Joseph under the
title of, i. 157
Palm-branches in Roman Catholic coun-
tries, ii. 6 note
Palm Sunday in the Greek Church, ii. 8,
11. In the Anglican, Syrian, and Egyp-
tian churches, 11
Parables of our Lord, subjects for Art,i. 375.
The Good Samaritan, 377, 388. The Pro-
digal Son, 377, 382. The rich man and
Lazarus, 379. The doom of the wicked
rich man, 380. The wise and the foolish
Virgins, 390. The householder who hired
labourers for his vineyard, 394. The un-
merciful servant, 395. The blind leading
the blind, 396. The tree which bore
good fruit and the tree which was barren,
396. The merchant who bought the pearl
of great price, 396. The lost drachm,
397. The camel and the eye of the
needle, 398
Paradise, symbol of the rivers of, i. 106.
Adam and Eve hiding in the garden,
109. The expulsion, 112
Paschal Lamb \vorn by the Faithful, ii.
336
Passion of our Lord, ii. 1. Ancient plays
or mysteries of the, 2. The ' Passions-
spiel ' of Ober-Ammergau, 2 note, 90.
The Passion as represented in Art, 2
Passion, instruments of the, ii. 360. Dead
Christ, erect in the Tomb, showing His
wounds, 360. Dead Christ in the Tomb,
supported by angels or sacred per-
sonages, 362. Dead Christ in Tomb,
with the Virgin Mary and St. John, 363.
The Man of Sorrows, 366. The Mass of
St. Gregory, 369. The Arms of Christ,
371
Passover, ordinance of the, as represented
in Art, i. 179. Israelites striking the
doorposts, 180
Patriarchal cross, or Cross of Lorraine, ii.
323
Paulus, Patriarcha Gradensis, as repre-
sented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 192
Pearl of great price, parable of the, i.
396
Persica, the Sibylla, Michael Angelo's, i.
253. Raphael's, 256
Peter, the Apostle, calling of, i. 374. Jesus'
charge to, ii. 303. As represented in
Art, 303
Phaedra, Polygnotus' mode of representing
her death, ii. 326
Pharaoh, apocryphal letters between Joseph
and, i. 157. Pharaoh's dream, 161. His
reception of Jacob, 109. The finding of
Moses by his daughter, 174. His over-
throw in the Red Sea, 180, 181
Philip II., of Spain, portrait of, ii. 294
Philistines, slain by Shamgar, i. 192. De-
stroyed by Samson, 195
Phoenix, traces of honours paid by the
III. GENERAL- INDEX.
457
Egyptians to the patriarch Joseph under
the title of, i. 157
Phrygian Sibyl, Raphael's conception of
her, i. 256
Pieta, or lamentation of the Virgin, the
Maries, and others over the body of
Christ, ii. 226. No authority in Scripture
for the incident, 226. The Pieta a late
invention, 227. S. Buenaventura's ima-
ginary descriptions of the scenes at
Calvary, 227. The Greek formula, 227.
Italian Art, 228. The early Art of the
North, 232. False taste of later Art,
233. Origin of the term Pieta, 363
Pilate, Christ before, ii. 61. His history,
61. Charges brought against our Lord,
61. Pilate sends his divine Prisoner
to Herod, 62. Who returns Him to
Pilate, 62. Christ's second appearance
before Pilate, 65. The dream of Pilate's
wife, 65, 69. Pilate gives Jesus to be
scourged, 72. His troubled, puzzled look,
as handed down from the Art of the
Catacombs, 107
Pilgrim, Christ as a, representations of, ii.
377
Poliziano, i. 307
Pomegranate, the, in the hand of the Infant
Christ, i. 108
Potiphar's wife, episode of, as represented
in Art, i. 167
Potipherah, priest of On, story of the mar-
riage of his daughter Asenath with
Joseph, i. 158
Preacher, Christ represented as a, ii. 376
Prodigal Son, parable of the, i. 377.
Popularity of it, 382
Prophecy, representation of, from a Greek
MS., i. 204
Prophets, importance of the, in the scheme
of Christian Art, i. 240. Principles on
which we are to view the figures of the
Prophets in Art, 240. List of the greater
and minor Prophets, 241. Texts of the
Prophets which allude to the scheme of
Christ's life and death, 241. The un-
canonical prophets, 242, 243. The Pro-
phets as represented in Art, 243. Places
VOL. II. 3
SAB
assigned to them in churches, 243. Mi-
chael Angelo's conception of them, 254.
St. John the Baptist considered as the
last prophet of the Old Testament, 283.
The Prophets as represented in Fra
Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 191
Psalter, a Greek, of the 9th or 10th cen-
tury, i. 202-205
' Quatuor Novissima,' the, or Four Last
Things of the theologians, ii. 393
Rabbins, their fables of the origin and
history of Adam, i. 87. Their description
of his repentance, 89
Rachel, meeting of Jacob and, by the well,
i. 153. As represented by various artists,
153. A type of the Virgin Mary, 154
' Ratto d' Elia, II,' i. 221
Rebekah, meeting of Eleazar and, i. 143,
148. Journey of, 144. Sculptures in
Amiens Cathedral, 145. Isaac receiving
her as his bride, 145. Her mystical im-
portance, according to the early Fathers,
146
Red Sea, passage of the Israelites through
the, i. 180. A Scriptural type of Baptism,
180
Resurrection, general, doubts respecting
the, in the llth century, ii. 393
Resurrection of our Lord, ii. 263. As re-
presented in early Art, 263. In later
Art, 265. Actual representations of the
Resurrection, 265. The women at the
Sepulchre, 272. The cross of the Resur-
rection, 323
Rizpah, daughter of Aiah, watching the
bodies of the sons of Saul, i. 213
Robe, the, put by the soldiers on our Lord,
ii. 84
Rome, the Sibylline books preserved in the
Capitol of, i. 246. The altar erected by
Augustus in the Capitol, 247
Rosary of St.. Dominic, ii. 110, 121
! Sabbath, a wingless angel the type of the,
i. 77. Christ blessing the, 77. God
458
III. GENERAL INDEX.
SAI
resting on the, 79. Adam's song for the
Sabbath-day, 88
St. Agatha, Chapel of, in Florence, i. 263
St. Ambrose, as represented in Fra Ange-
lico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Andrew, cross of, ii. 323
St. Antonio, Bishop, i. 287
St. Augustine on the creation of the angels,
quoted, i. 54
St. Bavon, the celebrated picture of, i. 252
St. Benedict, as represented in Fra Ange-
lico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Bernard on the nature of the crime of
Lucifer, i. 57. On Lucifer's wings, 57.
As represented in Fra Angelico's great
picture, ii. 190
St. Brigitta, influence of her ' Kevelations '
on Christian Art, i. 5. Quoted, ii. 37,
72, 113
S. Buenaventura's ' Life of Christ ' quoted,
i. 290. Influence of his work on Christian
Art, 5, 23. His relation of the legend
of the meeting between Christ and St.
John the Baptist in the wilderness, 293.
His metaphorical description of the tree
of life, ii. 194. His precise canon of the
form of arrangement proper to the re-
presentation of the Descent from the
Cross, 218. His remarks on the Lamenta-
tion over the Body of Christ, ii. 227
St. Cosmo, as represented in Fra Angelico's
great Crucifixion, ii. 189
St. Cross of the Eoman calendar, ii. 105
St. Damian, as represented in Fra Ange-
lico's great Crucifixion, ii. 189
St. Dominic, rosary of, ii. 110, 121. As
represented in the great picture of the
Crucifixion by Fra Angelico, 189
St. Dunstan, his representation of the
three figures of the Trinity, ii. 346
St. Francis, as represented in Fra Ange-
lico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Gregory of Nyssa, on the crucifix, ii.
326
St. Gregory, the mass of, ii. 369
St. Gualberto of Vallombrosa, i. 287: As
represented in Fra Angelico's great
picture, ii. 190
SAI
St. Helena, her church at Jerusalem, ii.
313
St. Jerome, his view of the predictions of
the Sibyls, i. 246. As represented in
Fra Angelico's Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. John Lateran, Rome, founded by Con-
stantine the Great, i. 282. Regarded as
the first episcopal church of the world,
282
St. John of Damascus, his description of
the Person of Christ, i. 35
St. John the Baptist, relation in which he
stood to the youthful Saviour, i. 281.
His history as contained in the Gospels,
281. Legends and tradition respecting
him, 281. Veneration paid to him by
the Eastern and Western Churches, 282.
Considered as the last Prophet of the
Old, and the first Saint of the New
Testament, 283. His characters of— 1.
Messenger or Precursor, 283, 284. 2.
Prophet and Witness, 283, 284. 3. As
Baptist and Patron Saint and Baptist,
283, 286. His appearance in all early
devotional effigies, 283. And in modern
Art, 283. Historical subjects in his life,
289. His birth, 290. The escape from
the massacre at Bethlehem, 292. Goes
into the wilderness. 292. His baptism
of our Lord, 294. His reproof of Herod,
298. His imprisonment at Macheronta,
298. The Decollation. 299. Tradition
respecting his severed head, 300, 303.
Legend of his descent into Hades, 303.
Representations of the Crucifixion in
which he and the Virgin stand alone at
each side of the Cross, ii. 149. The
Crucifixion represented with the Virgin,
the Saints, and St. John, 184. The
cross of the Baptist, 323. St. John
accompanying the Virgin in the Tomb
with the dead Christ, 363
St. Julian, i. 287
St. Lawrence, in Fra Angelico's great pic-
ture at Florence, ii. 189
St. Louis, Psautier de, i. 60
S. Maria in Capitolio, Church of, in Rome,
i. 247
III. GENERAL INDEX.
450
St. Mark as represented in Fra Angelico's
great Crucifixion, ii. 189
St. Maximian, ivory reliefs on the chair of,
at Ravenna, i. 24, 160
St. Peter and Malchus, incident of, ii. 42.
St. Peter's denial of our Lord, 57
St. Peter Martyr as represented in Fra
Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Roniualdus, as represented in Fra
Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Theresa, St. Joseph the patron saint of,
i. 274
St. Thomas Aquinas, as represented in Fra
Angelico's great Crucifixion, ii. 190
St. Verdiana, i. 287
St. Veronica, legend of her veil used by
Christ to wipe the sweat from His face,
i. 41 ; ii. 117. As represented in Art,
118
St. Zenobio, Bishop, i. 287
Saints, the, represented in Crucifixions, ii.
184. The saints most seen, 185. Of the
Eastern Church, 228. St. John the Bap-
tist considered as the first of the saints,
283
Salome dancing before Herod and Herodias,
i. 298. Carries the head of St. John the
Baptist to her mother Herodias, 299. As
represented in Art, 300
Salvator Mundi, representations of the, ii.
374
' Salvatore, II,' ii. 377
Samaria, Christ and the woman of, i. 337.
Animosity between the Jews and the
people of, 338
Samaritan, Good, parable of the, i. 377,
388
Samson, a type of our Lord, i. 195. His
father and mother at the burnt-offering,
195. Types furnished by his life, of
which Art takes cognisance, 195. De-
stroys the Philistines with the jaw-bone,
195. Carrying off the Gates of G«,~,
196. Story of Delilah, 197. Samson's
death, 198
Samuel, history of, i. 199. Its analogy to
the adoption of the Gentiles and rejec-
tion of the Jews, 199. As represented
in Art, 199, 200. Anointing David,
205
San Gallo, Benedictine monastery of, in
Florence, i. 262. Its union with the
hospital of the Innocenti, 263
Sarah, wife of Abraham, as represented in
Art, i. 138. Difference between chil-
dren of bondwoman and of freewoman,
141
Sarcophagi of the Catacombs, Rome, Chris-
tian Art as shown by, i. 13. See INDEX
TO GALLERIKS, &c.
Sarepta, the widow of, Elijah's meeting
with, i. 221. Interpretation of this event,
221. The raising of her son by Elijah,
221
Satan, his temptation of our Lord in the
wilderness, i. 310. Representations of
him in old pictures, 311. Colloquy
between him and the Prince of Hell, ii.
254
Saul, his jealousy and treachery to David,
i. 210. Death of his seven sons,
213. Rizpah watching their bodies,
219
Saxony, Elector of, introduced into a pic-
ture of the Baptist, i. 296
Scales, symbol of the, in representations of
the Creation, i. 73
Sceptre, the reed, put into the hand of our
Lord, ii. 86
Scutum Fidei, the, i. 1 ; ii. 318, 322
Sepulchre, the bearing the body of Christ
to the, ii. 238. As represented in Art,
238. The Entombment, 243. The
Resurrection, 263. The woman at the
Sepulchre, with the angel seated on the
Tomb, ,272. The appearance of Christ
to the Maries, 286
Seraphim, Isaiah on the wings of, i. 57
St. Bernard on. 57
Serapis, traces of honours paid by the
Egyptians to the patriarch Joseph, under
the title of, i. 157
Sermon on the Mount, the, i. 319
Serpent in the Garden of Eden, i. 100
Servant, the unmerciful, parable of the,
i. 395
460
III. GENERAL INDEX.
SET
Seth, birth of, i. 121. His righteousness,
122
Shamgar, his defeat of the Philistines with
an ox-goad, i. 192
Sheba, Queen of, her visit to Solomon, i.
218. Sometimes regarded as one of the
Sibyls, 245
Shepherd, the Good, Christ as the, ii. 340.
The most popular and comprehensive of
Christian symbols, 341
Shimei cursing David, i. 213
Ship, Christ preaching from the, i. 322.
Symbol of the, in Christian Art, 12
Shunamite, Elisha raising the son of the,
i. 223
Sibyls, their predictions of the coming
of Christ, i. 245. Their number and
places of habitation, according to Varro,
245. Story of the Sibyl who presented
herself to Tarquin, 245. The Sibylline
books preserved in the Capitol, 246.
Various views of the early Christians
regarding the predictions of the Sibyls,
246. Story of the Emperor Augustus
and the Tiburtine Sibyl, 247. Hymn of
Pope Innocent III., 248. Distinctive
signs of the twelve Sibyls, 250. Their
places in the great system of Christian
Art, 251. Michael Angelo's celebrated
Sibyls and Prophets in the Sistine Chapel,
252-254. Eaphael's, in the Church of
S. Maria della Pace, in Rome, 256.
Representations of Sibyls in later times,
257
Simon the Cyrenian, bears Christ's Cross,
ii. 100, 108. As represented in Art, 108,
109. Causes which led the soldiers to
compel his services, 115
Sisera slain by Jael, i. 192
boderini, Piero, Gonfaloniere of Florence,
endows the hospital of the Innocenti in
his native city, i. 269
Sodom, destruction of, i. 140, 147. Lot's
escape from, 140
Solomon, regarded as a type of Christ, i.
216. His name, 216. Representations
of his judgment between the two
mothers, 216. Placing his mother Bath-
TAR
sheba on his right hand, 217. The story
of Adonijah, 217. The building of the
Temple, 217. Visit of the Queen of
Sheba, 218. Solomon worshipping
idols, 218. His throne with the twelve
lions, 218. Fables in connection with
him, as represented in Christian Art,
219. Representations of him among
the Prophets, 219
Somers, the court jester, portrait of, i.
215
Soult, Marshal, his thefts of celebrated
pictures from Spain, i. 368, 385
Spade and keys, Christ giving Adam the,
i. 92
Spasimo, Raphael's picture of the, ii. 116.
Institution of the feast of the, 179
'Speculum Salvationis.' See INDEX TO
GALLERIES, &c.
'Stabat Mater,' of Pope Innocent III.,
ii. 179
Stations, the, ii. 120. As represented in
Art, 121. The first importation of the
subject of the Stations into Europe, 121.
The seven Stations by Adam Kraft, at
Nuremberg, 121
Stephaton giving the vinegar on the sponge
to our Lord, ii. 161, 162
Sun, the, as represented in the ' Bible de
Noailles,' i. 71. In a miniature in the
British Museum, 80
Supper, our Lord's Last, ii. 18. As repre-
sented in early Art, 18. In later Art,
and in various schools, 18, 19. The Per-
son of our Lord, as given in the repre-
sentations of the Last Supper, considered,
19. Leonardo da Vinci's great picture,
21
Supper at Emmaus, the, ii. 292
Sychar, Jesus in the city of, i. 338
Symbolical forms, early, of Christian Art,
i. 10
Synagogue, Christ teaching in the, i. 321
Tabor, Mount, the vision of the Trans-
figuration said by tradition to have taken
place on, i. 340, 341
Tarquin and the Sibylline books, i. 245, 246
III. GENERAL INDEX.
461
TAY
Taylor, Bishop, quoted, ii. 6, 44
Temple, Solomon building the, i. 217.
The Temple, a direct prefiguration of
the Virgin Mary, 218. Expulsion of
the money-changers by our Lord, 316.
Christ teaching in the, 321
Theodolinda, the princess, founds the Bap-
tistery at Florence, i. 282
Thermutis, daughter of Pharaoh, her find-
ing of Moses, i. 173, 174. Jewish and
Coptic legends respecting, 174, 175
Thieves, the, who were crucified on either
side of our Lord, ii. 1 64. The good and
the bad thief, 164, 165. Their names ac-
cording to tradition, 165. Their story,
according to the Gospel of the Infancy,
165. And according to Jacob de Vo-
ragine, 166. Early representations of
them, 166
Tiburtine Sibyl and the Emperor Augustus,
i. 247. Raphael's conception of her, 256
Thief, the history of the good, as supplied
by the ' Gospel of Nicodemus,' ii. 261
Thomas, the unbelief of, ii. 298
Thorns, the crown of, ii. 85. The kind of
thorn supposed to have been used, 85
Tiberias, Sea of, Jesus appearing at the, ii.
302
Transfiguration of our Lord, i. 340. As
represented in Art, 341. Remarks on
Raphael's celebrated picture, 342-346
Tree, the barren and the fruitful, parable
of the, i. 396
Tribute money, subject of the, i. 323
Trinity, Rembrandt's mystical idea of tne,
i. 1 38. Christ represented as Second Per-
son of the, ii. 345. Early symbolic forms
of the Three Persons, 345. Represented
under the forms of men, 346. Attributes
proper to each, 346. Procession of the
Holy Spirit, 347. Reasons for the intro-
duction of the Holy Spirit under the form
of the dove, 347. The double Procession
of the Holy Spirit, 348. The Trinity
seated when the locality is heaven, 348.
The Italian Trinity, 350
Tubal Cain, his death, according to Jewish
tradition, i. 124
Twining, Miss, her ' Types and Figures ' of
the Bible, i. 136
Types of our Lord : — Adam, i. 86. Abel,
118. Noah, 126. Isaac, 133. Jacob,
149. Joseph, 156. Moses, 171. Joshua,
187. Shamgar, 192. Gideon, 192. Jeph-
thah, 194. Samson, 195. David, 201.
Solomon, 216. Elijah theTishbite, 220.
Job, 225. Jonah, 238
Vasari, his story of Margherita Accaioli, i.
164
Venice, churches in, dedicated to Job and
Moses, i. 227, 228
Virgil, passage in his fourth eclogue sup-
posed to predict the Advent of Christ, i.
246, 247. Introduced into an early
Christian picture, 251
Virgin Mary, Rachel a type of the, i. 154.
Analogy between the sacrifice of Jeph-
thah's daughter and the Virgin's dedica-
tion in the Temple, 194. The Magnificat
of the Virgin compared with that of Han-
nah, 199. The Temple of Solomon a direct
prefiguration of the Virgin, 218. Joseph
husband of the Virgin, 273. Legend of
the Virgin present at the birth of St. John
the Baptist, 290. Her mystical joys and
sorrows in the series of the rosary of St.
Dominic, ii. 110. Introduced in pictures
of the Bearing of the Cross, 111. Her
attempts to relieve our Lord of its
weight, 111. The subject of the < Madre
Addolorata,' 113. The Virgin wrapping
of linen round the body of our Lord, 126.
Representations of the Crucifixion in
which the Virgin and St. John stand
alone on each side of the Cross, 149. The
Crucifixion with the Virgin fainting,
179. The idea of the Virgin fainting
condemned by many Roman Catholic
divines, 180. The Crucifixion with the
Virgin, St. John, and Saints, 184. The
Virgin introduced into pictures of the
Descent from the Cross, 214, 221. The
Pieta, or lamentation over the body of
Christ, 226. The Virgin and the dead
Christ alone, 235. The Virgin with The
4C2
III. GENERAL INDEX.
dead Christ and angels, 236. The En-
tombment, 243. His Resurrection, 263.
His appearance to the Virgin, 276, 277.
The Virgin one of the three Myrrhophores
of the Greek Church, 286. The Feast
of the Compassion of the Blessed Virgin.
363. The Virgin in the Tomb with the
dead Christ. 363
Virgins, the wise and the foolish, parable
of, i. 390
Volumen, an ancient, in the Vatican, i.
187
Voragine, Jacob de, on the two thieves who
were crucified with our Lord, ii. 166
Washing the feet of the disciples, our
Lord, ii. 12. The Eastern custom, 12.
As represented in Art, 13-17
Wine-press, Christ treading the, as repre-
sented in Art, ii. 376
Wisdom, representation of, from a Greek
M.S,, i. 204
Ximenes, Cardinal, supposed portrait of, ii.
294
Zaccheus at the entry of our Lord into
Jerusalem, ii. 7
Zaccheus, the schoolmaster, and the Infant
Christ, legend of, i. 274
Zacharias, father of St. John the Baptist,
i. 291. Murdered by Herod, 260. His
vision as represented in Art, 307
Zani, the Abbs', on Job, quoted, i. 227; ii.
182, 221 note
Zebedee, petition of the mother of the
children of, i. 320, 321
Zechariah, text of his prophecies respecting
our Lord, i. 242. As represented in
early Art, 244. Michael Angelo's con-
ception of Zechariah, 256. As repre-
sented in Fra Angelico's great Cruci-
fixion, ii. 191
Zephaniah, his prophecy respecting our
Lord, i. 242
THE END,
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The history of our Lord as
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