Full text of "The history of our Lord as exemplified in works of art: with that of His types; St. John the Baptist, and other persons of the Old and New Testament"

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.

LONDON:
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST 16 th STREET.
1892.

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. Cathedral t 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 ej r e, 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 Entry 1 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 maj r 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.

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,

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

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.

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.'

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.

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.

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-

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.

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 i 33 The First MocJuug of chmt.
through with a strange and linear thy effect, ( Ivor r- 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

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

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} r pe 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

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.

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.

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, No f 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.

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. 4 The 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.

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.

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.

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 enamel 1 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.
\ f OL. 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 writer 1 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
earth 1 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.

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\ 7 en 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 similarChrist 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

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 (' 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 : * 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.' ' 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

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, ye princes, and be ye lift up, 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, 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. 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, ' 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 callira-

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 maj r be
found where the ancient Kmrier has introduced both, to make
doubly sure. The jaws may be said to have gone out by f he 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 Magd