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EGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC 
ORDERS 


AS  REPRESENTED  IN  THE  FINE  ARTS 


MRS.  JAMESON 
ComcUd  and  Enlarged  EJithm 


BOSTON  AND  MEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COHPAKy 

Kftr  BItttiilit  9i»i,  Saiubnltflt 


500fi25 


PREFACE. 


N  presentiog  to  the  public  this  Second  Series 
of  Sacrbd  and  Legendary  Art,  I  can 
bat  refer  to  the  Preface  and  general  Intro- 
duction prefixed  to  the  First  Series  for  an 
explanation  of  the  purpose  of  the  work  as  a  whole,  and 
the  motives  from  which  it  was  first  undertaken. 


I  spoke  of  it  there  as,  at  best,  only  an  attempt  to  do 
what  has  not  hitherto  been  done,  —  to  interpret,  as  far 
as  I  could  in  a  limited  space,  and  with  very  imperfect 
knowledge,  those  works  of  Art  which  the  churches  and 
galleries  of  the  Continent,  and  our  own  rich  collections, 
have  rendered  familiar  to  us  as  objects  of  taste,  while 
they  have  remained  unappreciated  as  subjects  of  thought ; 
—  to  show  that,  while  we  have  been  satisfied  to  regard 
sacred  pictures  merely  as  decorations,  valued  more  for 
the  names  appended  to  them  than  for  their  own  sakes, 
we  have  not  sufficiently  considered  them  as  books,  — as 
poems,  —  as  having  a  vitality  of  their  own  for  good  and 
for  evil,  and  that  thus  we  have  shut  out  a  vast  source 
of  delight  and  improvement,  which  lay  in  the  way  of 
many,  even  the  most  uninstructed  in  the  technicalities 
Of  Art. 


vi  PREFACE. 

This  was  the  otject  I  had  in  new,  —  knowing  that, 
doing  my  best,  I  coald  do  no  more  nor  better  than 
make  the  first  step  in  a  new  direction.  No  one  can 
feel  more  strongly  than  myself  the  deficiencies  of  the 
First  Series  of  this  work.  That  it  has  met  with  great 
and  unhoped-for  success  is  no  evidence  of  its  merit; 
bat  rather  a  proof  that  it  did,  opportunely,  supply  a 
want  which,  as  I  had  felt  myself,  I  thought  others 
might  feel  also. 

For  the  gentle  and  generous  tone  of  criticism  towards 
that  work  —  public  and  private  —  I  am  deeply  grateful. 
But,  in  this  Second  Series,  I  shall  require  even  more 
especially  the  candor  and  forbearance  of  the  reader. 

To  speak  of  the  religious  pictures  painted  for  the 
monastic  communities,  and  to  avoid  altogether  any 
allusion  to  disputed  points  of  faith,  of  history,  of  char- 
acter, has  been  impossible.  It  was  said  of  the  First 
Series,  by  an  authority  for  which  I  have  a  high  respect, 
that  I  had  "  spoiled  my  book  by  not  making  it  Roman 
Catholic.**  But  I  am  not  a  Roman  Catholic:  how, 
therefore,  could  I  honestly  write  in  the  tone  of  thought, 
feeling,  conviction,  natural  and  becoming  in  one  of  that 
faith  1  I  have  had  to  tread  what  all  will  allow  to  be 
difficult  and  dangerous  ground.  How  was  this  to  be 
done  safely,  and  without  oflence,  easily  given  in  these 
days  1  Not,  surely,  by  swerving  to  the  right  or  to  the 
left ;  not  by  the  aflfectation  of  candor ;  —  not  by  leav- 
ing wholly  aside  aspects  of  character  and  morals  which 
this  department  of  the  Fine  Arts,  the  representations 
of  monastic  life,  necessarily  place  before  us.  There 
was  only  one  way  in  which  the  task  undertaken  could 


PREFACE  vii 

be  achieved  in  a  right  spirit,  —  hj  going  straight  for- 
ward, according  to  the  best  lights  I  had,  and  saying 
what  appeared  to  me  the  truth,  as  far  as  my  subject 
required  it:  and  my  subject  —  let  me  repeat  it  here 
—  is  artistic  and  aesthetic,  not  religious.  This  is  too 
much  of  egotism,  but  it  has  become  necessary  to  avoid 
ambiguity.  I  will  only  add  that,  as  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  this  book  there  is  not  one  word 
&lse  to  my  own  faith,  —  my  own  feeling,  so  I  truly 
hope  there  is  not  one  word  which  can  give  ofience  to 
the  earnest  and  devout  reader  of  any  persuasion :  —  if 
there  be,  I  am  sorry ;  —  what  can  I  say  more  ? 

The  arrangement  is  that  which  naturally  offered 
itself ;  but,  in  classing  the  personages  under  the  various 
Orders,  I  have  not  pedantically  adhered  to  this  system  : 
it  will  be  found  that  I  have  departed  from  it  occasion- 
ally, where  the  subjects  fell  into  groups,  or  were  to  bo 
found  in  the  same  pictures.  Much  has  been  omitted, 
and  omitted  with  regret,  to  keep  the  volume  within 
those  portable  dimensions  on  which  its  utility  and  its 
readabiUty  depended.  If  it  be  asked  on  what  principle 
the  selection  has  been  made,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
reply.  I  have  just  followed  out  the  course  of  my  own 
thoughts,  —  my  own  associations.  If  I  have  succeeded 
in  carrying  my  readers  with  me,  there  needs  no  excuse : 
they  can  pursue  the  path  into  which  I  have  led  them, 
to  far  wider  knowledge  and  higher  results.  But  if  so 
&r  they  find  it  difficult  or  tedious  to  accompany  me, 
what  excuse  would  avail  ? 

Here,  as  in  the  former  series,  the  difficulty  of  com- 
pression has  been  the  greatest  of  all  my  difficulties  :  it 


vm 


PREFACE, 


wu  hard  aometunes,  when  in  the  fiiU  career  of  reflection 
or  fancy,  to  pall  op,  turn  short  roand,  and  retrace  my 
steps,  lest  I  should  be  carried  beyond  the  limits  abso- 
lutely fixed  by  the  nature  and  object  of  the  work. 
There  was  great  temptation  to  load  the  text  with  notes 
of  reference  to  authorities,  or  notes  of  comment  w^ere 
such  authorities  were  disputed  and  contradictory ;  but 
I  found  it  would  only  encumber,  not  elucidate,  the 
matter  in  hand.  The  authorities  consulted  are  those 
enumerated  in  the  Preface  to  the  First  Series,  with  the 
addition  of  separate  and  authentic  biographies  of  the 
most  remarkable  persons.  To  Mr.  Maitland's  Essays 
on  the  Dark  Ages  ;  to  Sir  James  Stephen's  Essays  in 
Ecclesiastical  Biography ;  and  to  Lord  Lindsay's  beau- 
tiful work  on  Christian  Art,  —  I  have  been  largely 
indebted,  and  have  great  pleasure  in  thus  acknowledg- 
ing my  obligations. 


CONTENTS. 


n. 


m. 


IV. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Cteneral  Character  and  Influence  of  Monastic  Art.  Ug- 
liness and  Sameness  of  the  Representations.  Ilis- 
torical  and  Moral  Importance  of  the  Monastic  Sub- 
jects, generally  and  individually.  Contrast  between 
the  Benedictine  Pictures  and  those  of  the  Mendicant 
Orders 1 

Distinction  between  the  Devotional  and  the  Historical 
Subjects 12 

Founders,  Habits,  and  Attributes  of  the  different  Or- 
ders   15 

Principal  Churches  and  Edifices  of  the  various  Orders       28 


8T.  BENEDICT   AND  THE   EARLY   BENEDICTINES  IN 
ITALY,  FRANCE,  SPAIN,  AND  FLANDERS. 

Origin  of  the  Benedictines.  Effigies  of  the  Benedictines  hi- 
teresting  and  suggestive  under  three  Points  of  Yiew. 
As  Missionaries,  and  as  the  Depositaries  of  Learning. 
As  Artists,  Architects,  and  Musicians.  As  Agricultu- 
rists.   Principal  Saints  of  the  Benedictine  Order      •        .      S9 

St.  Benedict.  The  Legend.  His  Sister,  St.  Scholastica 
His  Disciples,  St.  Maurus,  St.  Placidus,  and  St  Flavia. 
Pictures  of  St.  Benedict.  The  Proper  Habit,  sometimes 
white,  and  sometimes  black.  Attributes  of  St.  Benedict. 
Examples  of  Devotional  Figures.  Subjects  from  his  Life 
by  various  Painters.    Legend  of  the  Dead  Nuns    •       •      46 

01.  Ildbfomso.  Famous  in  Spanish  Art  His  Vision  of  th6 
Viifin.    His  Vision  of  St.  Leocadia        .       .       .       .     M 


X  CONTENTS. 

Br.  Bato*.  The  Legend.   Pictures  of  the  Saint  Story  of  the 

Slave 07 

Br.  OiLBS.    Origin  of  the  Legend 69 

St.  Bbxkdict  or  Amia.n  and  Sr  William  or  AQurrAuri  71 

St.  Nilus  or  Obotta  Fbrrata.    Legend  of  St.  Nilus  and  the 
Emperor  Otho.     Frescos   of  Domenichino  at  Qrotta 
Ferrata 73 

THE  BENEDICTINES  IN  ENGLAND  AND  IN  GERSIANY. 

Introduction  of  the  Order  into  England.  Its  Interest  and 
Importance  as  connected  with  our  History.  Earliest 
English  Saints.  St.  Helena,  St  Alban.  The  Legend. 
First  Introduction  of  Christianity  into  England.  The 
Legend  of  Glastonbury.  The  Legend  of  St.  Augustine 
of  Canterbury,  of  St.  Paulinus  of  York,  of  St.  Bennet  of 
Wearmouth,  of  St.  Cuthbert  of  Durham,  of  St.  Oswald 
the  King,  of  St  Hilda  of  Whitby,  of  St  Ebha  of  Colding- 
ham,  of  Cssdmon  the  Poet,  of  St  Chad  of  Lichfield,  of 
St  GuthUiC  of  Croyland,  of  St.  Ethelberga,  of  St.  Ethel- 
reda  (as  represented  in  Ely  Cathedral),  of  St  Werburga 
of  Chester.    St.  Edith  of  Polesworth,  and  St.  Modwena  .      80 

8t.  Boniface,  Makttr.    The  Legend.    Habit  and  Attributes 
Popularity  in  Germany.     St.  Ewald  the  Black  and  St. 
Ewald  the  Fair.    St.  Swidbert.    St.  Lieven.    St.  Wal- 
burga.     St.  Ottilia      St.  Sebald  of  Nuremberg.     St 
Benno Ill 

Disputes  of  the  English  Benedictines  with  the  Norman 
Kings.  Legend  of  Dale  Abbey.  Legend  of  St.  Edmund 
and  Bagnar  Lodbrog.  Martyrdom  of  King  Edmund. 
St.  Neot.  St  Swithen.  St.  Dunstan  :  his  Legend  ;  his 
Skill  as  an  Artist  \  as  a  Musician :  ancient  Figure.  St. 
Edith  of  Wilton 125 

Legends  of  St.  Edward  the  Martyr  and  St.  Edward  the  Con- 

fiessor.    Legend  of  St.  Thomas  a  Becket ....    138 

THE  REFORMED  BENEDICTINES. 

Decline  of  the  Moral  Influence  and  Discipline  of  the  Order. 

Reform  of  the  Order  in  Italy 154 

Shi  Obdsb  or  Gakaldou.    Legend  of  St  Romualdo.    Fig- 


CONTENTS  xi 

ures  of  St.  Romualdo  in  the  early  Florentine  SchooL 

The  Tision  of  St.  Bomaaldo 166 

Thk  Order  of  Vallombrosa.  Legend  of  St  John  Gual- 
berto.  Popular  at  Florence.  Subjects  from  his  Life. 
The  Guardian  Saints  of  Yallombrosa     St.  Umilti  .        .    150 

Thb  Carthitsians.  Origin,  Interest,  and  Importance  of  the 
Order  in  connection  with  Art  Legends  of  St  Bruno  as 
represented  by  Le  Sueur,  by  Zurbaran,  by  Carducho. 
The  Charter-House  in  London.  St.  Hugh  of  Grenoble. 
St  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  Martyr.    Other  Infant  Martyrs     •    166 

Tbb  Cistercians.  Popularity  of  the  Order.  St  Bernard  of 
Clairraux.  The  Legend.  His  Learning  and  Celebrity. 
Preaches  the  Second  Crusade.  Pictures  and  Effigies  of 
St  Bernard.  Habit  and  Attributes.  Devotional  Sub- 
jects. The  Tision  of  St  Bernard.  Popularity  of  this 
Subject  Lichfield  Cathedral.  Historical  Subjects.  St. 
Bernard  in  the  Cathedral  of  Spires 179 

The  Outbtaks.    St  Bernard  Ptolomei,  Founder.    St.  Fran- 

cesca  Romana.    Popularity  of  her  Effigies  at  Rome       .    189 

8t.  Charles  Borromeo.  His  Character.  His  Influence  in 
the  Reform  of  the  Church.  His  great  Charity.  The 
Plague  at  Milan.  Effigies  of  St.  Charles.  Scenes  from 
his  life.    Palestrina         ...  ...    193 

8t.  Phiup  Neri.    Founder  of  the  Oratorians.    Legend  of  the 

liassimi  Family.    Pictures  of  St  Philip  Neri         .       .    201 

The  Port-Royalists :  La  Mire  Ang^lique  ;  Jaqueline  Pascal } 
Pictures  by  Philippe  Champagne.  The  Trappistes: 
Story  of  De  Ranc6 204 

BARLT  ROTAL  SAINTS  CONNECTED  WITH  THB 
BENEDICTINE  ORDER. 

Effigies  of  Royal  Saints  not  satisfactory ;  and  why.  St. 
Charlemagne.  St.  Clotilda.  St  Cloud.  St.  Sigismond 
of  Burgundy.  St  Cyril  and  St.  Methodius,  Apostles  of 
the  Sclavonians.  St  Wenceslaus  of  Bohemia,  and  St. 
Ludmilla  St.  Henry  of  Bavaria.  St  Cunegunda.  St. 
Stephen  of  Hungary.  St.  Leopold  of  Austria.  St  Fer- 
dinand of  Castile.    St  Casimir  of  Poland       ...    206 


xU  CONTENTS, 

THB  AUQU8TINB8. 

Origin  of  the  Order.    Their  Patriarch,  St.  Augastine.    St. 

Monica.    St.  Patricic  and  St.  Bridget  of  Ireland     .       .    290 
St.  Nicholas  of  ToLsimNo 236 

St.  Thomas  of  Villaxubva  :  hia  Popolarity  in  Spain :  Mn- 

riUo*s  Picture 238 

St.JobkNbpomuck.    The  Legend.    Patron  Saiot  of  Bridget. 

Popularity  throughout  Bohemia  and  Austria  .  .    242 

St.  Lorbnzo  OnrBTiNiAMi.    Popular  at  Venice.    Pictures  by 

Carpaocio,  Bellini,  and  Paris  Bordone    ....    240 

St.  Rosaua  of  Palkrmo.    The  Sicilian  Legend.    Painted 

by  Tandyck  for  the  Jesuits 247 

St.  Clara  of  Momtb-Falco         ......       240 

ORDERS  DERITEB  FROM  THE  AUGUSTINE  RULE. 

Thk  Prbmonstratkmsians.  Legend  of  St  Norbert :  various 
Pictures  of  him  in  the  German  School.  St.  Herman^ 
Joseph :  Picture  by  Tandyck 24i) 

Thb  Servi.  St.  Philip  Benozzi.  Church  of  the  Annunxlata 
at  Florence.  Frescos  painted  for  the  Order  by  Andrea 
del  Sarto  and  others 253 

Thb  Trinitarians.  Instituted  for  the  Redemption  of  Cap- 
tives. Legend  of  St  John  de  Matha,  St.  Felix  de  Talois, 
and  St.  Radegunda.    How  represented  ....    257 

The  Ordbr  of  Our  Ladt  of  Mbrct.    Legends  of  St.  Peter 

Nolasco.    Popular  in  Spanish  Art 261 

Thb  Brigittines.  Legend  of  St.  Bridget  of  Sweden,  Foun- 
dress.   Popular  Representations 264 

THE  MENDICANT  ORDERS. 

Origin  of  the  Mendicant  Orders  in  the  Thirteenth  Century. 
Characters  of  St.  Francis  and  St.  Dominick  contrasted. 
Of  their  two  Communities.  Distinction  in  Habit.  Phys- 
iognomy. How  characterized  in  Dante  How  repre- 
sented by  the  eariy  Painters:  by  the  later  Schools. 
Patronage  of  Art 267 

Thb  Franciscans.  The  Seraphic  Order.  Principal  Saints 
represented  in  tb»  Franciscan  Edifices    ....    275 


CONTENTS,  xiii 

Br.  Franco  or  Assisi.  The  I^egend.  Origin  of  the  Ponioii- 
eala.  Popularity  of  the  Effigies  of  St.  Francis.  The 
Devotional  and  Mystical  Subjects.  Sngle  Figures  as 
Founder.  The  Stigmata.  The  Vision  of  the  Virgin  and 
Infant  Christ.  The  Legend  of  the  Roses.  St.  Francis 
espouses  Poverty.  Frescos  in  the  Choir  at  AssisL  The 
Life  and  Miracles  of  St.  Francis,  as  a  Series  of  Suta|}ect8 
by  Giotto,  by  Ghirlandajo,  by  Benedetto  da  Maiano. 
St.  Francis  preaches  to  the  Birds.  His  Ideas  concerning 
Animals.    Separate  Sufaijects  from  the  Life  of  St.  Francis    278 

St.  Claka.  Her  Legend.  She  is  the  Type  of  Female  Piety. 
Ancient  Representations  of  her;  as  Abbess;  as  the 
**  Madre  Serafica.**    Pictures  from  her  History      .       .    809 

8t.  Aktont  or  Padua.  The  Legend.  His  Church  at  Padua. 
His  Life,  as  a  Series  of  Pictures  by  Titian  and  others. 
St.  Antony  with  the  Infant  Christ 817 

8r.  BoNAVSNTURA,  Cardinal,  and  Doctor  of  the  Church      .       8^ 

St.  Bbrnaroino  or  Sibwa.  Habit  and  Attributes.  Popu- 
larity of  his  Effigies.  Bernardino  da  Feltri,  with  the 
Monte-dt-Pietd 880 

St.  Elizabeth  or  Hcnoart.  The  Tsrp®  of  Female  Charity. 
Beauty  and  Interest  of  the  Legends  relating  to  her. 
Her  Life.  Devotional  Representations  of  her  popular 
throughout  Europe.  The  Legend  of  the  Roses.  Pictures 
from  her  Life.  Description  of  St.  Elisabeth  in  the  **  £r- 
linde  *'  of  Wolf  von  Qoethe.  St.  Elizabeth  of  Portugal, 
the  original  Heroine  of  Schiller's  "  Fridolin  " .  .  .836 
9r.  LoCTS  or  France,  King  ;  and  his  Sister,  St.  Isabella    .    869 

8t.  Louis  or  Toulouse,  Bishop 866 

St.  Margaret  or  Cortona 868 

St.  Ives  of  Brbtaone    ........    871 

St.  Eleazar  db  Sabran 873 

St.  Rosa  di  Titerbo      .       • 874 

St.  Francis  ob  Paula 375 

St.  Juan  oe  Dios 878 

St.  Felix  de  Cantalicio 883 

St.  Diego  o'Alcala.    The  Cappella  Herrera.    Anecdote  of 

Annibal  Caracci  and  Albano 884 

St.  Yinobnt  oe  Pauls 887 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

St.  Pbtkr  of  Alcastaiu 891 

Br.  John  Capistrano 891 

St.  Pcter  Rbgalato 892 

St.  Cathbrinb  or  Bologna 892 

Thx  Dominicans.  The  principal  Saints  represented  in  the 
Dominican  Edifices.  The  proper  Uabit  and  general 
Character  of  the  Order 893 

St.  Dominick.  The  Legend.  The  War  with  the  Albigenses. 
The  Institution  of  the  Rosary.  His  Success  as  a  Preacher. 
His  Death  at  Bologna.  Ilis  Shrine,  called  the  Area  di 
Ban  Domenico.  Various  Representations  of  St.  Domi- 
nick, and  Pictures  from  his  Life,  by  Angelioo  and  others     899 

Br.  Pbtbr  Marttr.  The  San  Pietro  Martire  of  Titian ;  of 
Andrea  del  Sarto.  Portrait  of  Savonarola  as  Peter  Mar- 
tyr     410 

Bt.  Thomas  Aquinas 414 

Bt.  Cathbrinb  of  Sibna.  The  Legend.  Description  of  the 
City  of  Siena  and  the  Fonte-Branda.  The  Visions  of  St. 
Catherine.  She  induces  the  Pope  to  quit  Avignon  for 
Rome.  Andrea  Vanni  the  Painter:  his  Portrait  of  St . 
Catherine.  Attributes  and  Pictures  of  St.  Catherine. 
She  faints  before  the  Crucifix.  She  receives  the  Stig- 
mata          420 

St.  Antonino,  Archbishop  of  Florencb.  His  Friendship 
for  Angelico  da  Fiesole.  Legends  and  Pictures  of  him 
at  Florence       .........    435 

Bt.  Raymond  of  PbSafortb 440 

St.  Vincent  Ferraris,  or  Ferrer 442 

St.  Hyacinth 444 

St.  Louis  Beltran 447 

Santa  Rosa  di  Lima 448 

Thb  Carmelites.  Disputed  Origin  of  this  Order.  Princi- 
pal Carmelite  Saints.    St.  Albert.    St.  Angelus      .       .    449 

Bt.  Theresa,  Foundress  of  the  Barefooted  Carmelites.  Her 
History  and  Character  ill-treated  as  a  Subject  of  Art. 
Pictures  of  her.  Character  of  St.  Theresa  by  Harriet 
Martineau 453 

St.  Juan  db  la  Cruz 462 

Bt.  Andrea  Coksini 463 


CONTENTS,  XV 

St.  Mabia  BfiDDALBNA  DB*  Pazzi 464 

B(S7B  LOUISB  DB  UL  MiSBHICORDB 464 

THE  JESUITS. 

laflaence  of  the  Jesuits  on  Arts  and  Artists  unfavorable. 

Ilabit  and  Character  of  the  Order 466 

St.  Ignathis  Lotola  ...•..••  468 

St.  Francis  Xatieb 473 

St.  Francis  Borgia 479 

St.  Stanislas  Kotzka    .     ' 483 

St.  Louis  Oonzaga 484 

THE  ORDER  OF  THE  VISITATION  OF  ST.  MART. 

8x.  FBANas  DB  Salbs  ;  and  Maoaxb  sb  Chantal,  Orand- 

mother  of  Siadame  de  Sevign6 486 


INTRODUCTION. 


I. 


N  the  first  series  of  this  work,  I  reviewed  the 
Scriptural  personages  and  the  poetical  and 
traditional  saints  of  the  early  ages  of  the 
Charcb,  as  represented  in  Art. 
I  endeavored  to  show  that  these  have,  and  ought  to 
have,  for  us  a  deep,  a  lasting,  a  universal  interest ;  that 
even  where  the  impersonation  has  been,  through  igno- 
rance or  incapacity,  roost  imperfect  and  inadequate,  it 
is  still  consecrated  through  its  original  purpose,  and 
through  its  relation  to  what  we  hold  to  be  most  sa- 
cred, most  venerable,  most  beautiful,  and  most  gracious, 
on  earth  or  in  heaven.  Therefore  the  Angels  still  hover 
before  us  with  shining,  wind-swift  wings,  as  links  between 
tho  terrestrial  and  the  celestial ;  therefore  the  Evangel- 
ists and  Apostles  are  still  enthroned  as  the  depositaries 
of  truth ;  the  Fathers  and  Confessors  of  the  Church  still 
stand  robed  in  authority  as  dispensers  of  a  diviner  wis- 
dom ;  the  Martyrs,  palm-sceptred,  show  us  what  once 
was  sufivred,  and  could  again  be  suficred,  for  truth  and 
righteousness'  sake;  the  glorified  Penitents  still  hold 
out  a  blessed  hope  to  those  who,  in  sinning,  have  loved 
much ;  the  Virgin  Patronesses  still  represent  to  us  the 
Christian  ideal  of  womanhood  in  its  purity  and  its 
power.  The  image  might  be  defective,  but  to  our  fore- 
I 


1  INTRODUCTION, 

fathers  it  became  gracious  and  sanctified  throagh  the 
8agg:e8tion,  at  least,  of  all  they  coald  conceive  of  holiest, 
brightest,  and  best ;  the  lcs»on  conveyed,  either  by  direct 
example  or  pictured  parable,  was  always  intelligible, 
and,  in  the  hands  of  great  and  sincere  artists,  irresistibly 
impressive  and  attractive.  To  us,  therefore,  in  these 
later  times,  such  representations  are  worthy  of  reverent 
study  for  the  sake  of  their  own  beauty,  or  for  the  sako 
of  the  spirit  of  Love  and  faith  in  which  they  were  created. 

Can  the  same  be  said  of  the  Monastic  personages,  and 
the  legends  relating  to  them,  as  we  find  them  portrayed 
in  sculpture  and  painting  ?  I  think  not.  It  appears  to 
me  that,  here,  the  pleasure  and  the  interest  are  of  a  more 
mingled  nature,  good  and  ill  together.  At  the  very 
outset  we  are  shocked  by  what  seems  a  violation  of  the 
first  principles  of  Art.  Monachism  is  not  the  conse- 
cration of  the  beautiful,  even  in  idea ;  it  is  the  apotheo- 
sis of  deformity  and  sufiering.  What  can  be  more 
unpromising,  as  subjects  for  the  artist,  than  the  religious 
Orders  of  the  Middle  Ages,  where  the  first  thing  de- 
manded has  been  the  absence  of  beauty  and  the  absence 
of  color  ?  Ascetic  faces,  attenuated  forms,  dingy  dark 
draperies,  the  mean,  the  squalid,  the  repulsive,  the  abso- 
lutely painful, — these  seem  most  uncongenial  materials, 
out  of  which  to  evolve  the  poetic,  the  graceful,  and  the 
elevating!  True,  this  has  been  done,  and  done  in 
some  cases  so  efiectually,  that  we  meet  constantly  with 
those  whose  perceptions  have  become  confused,  whose 
taste  is  in  danger  of  being  vitiated  through  the  con- 
ventional associations  awakened  by  the  present  passion 
for  what  is  called  Mediseval  Art.  But  with  all  our 
just  admiration  and  sympathy  for  greatness  achieved 
through  the  inspiration  of  faith  and  feeling  in  spite  of 
imperfect  means  and  imperfect  knowledge,  let  us  not 
confound  things  which,  in  th^ir  very  essence,  are  incom- 
patible. Pain  is  pain;  ugliness  is  ugliness;  the  quaint 
is  not  the  graceful.  Therefore,  dear  friends,  be  not 
deceived ! — eyery  long-limbed,  long-eyed,  long-draped 


INTRODUiHTWN'.  3 

taint  is  not  "  a  Giotto  " ;  nor  every  mea^p^,  simperiTig 
nun,  or  woe-begone  monk,  "  a  Beato  Angelico." 

And  again,  the  effigies  of  the  monastic  personages  do 
not  onlj  fail,  and  necessarily  fail,  in  beauty;  —  they 
have  a  deeper  faults  Generally  speaking,  the  moral 
efiect  of  such  pictures  upon  the  mass  of  the  people  was 
not,  at  any  time,  of  a  healthy  kind.  The  subjects  were 
not  selected  to  convey  a  precept,  or  to  touch  the  heart : 
the  aim  was  not  to  set  forth  the  virtue  of  the  good  man 
as  an  example ;  but  to  glorify  the  community  to  which 
he  belonged,  and  to  exalt  the  saints  of  the  respective 
Orders  as  monks,  not  as  men.  Even  where,  as  men, 
they  shine  most  attractively,  the  holy  example  conveyed 
in  the  representation  is  neutralized  through  a  species  of 
assumption  in  the  purpose  of  the  work,  a  vainglorious 
and  exclusive  spirit,  which  has  certainly  interfered  with, 
and  diminished,  the  religious  impression.  Sometimes, 
where  the  sentiment  which  the  painter  brought  to  his 
task  was  truly  pious,  we  still  feel  that  the  glory  of  hia 
community  was  the  object  at  heart;  and  that  the  exal- 
tation of  his  own  patriarch,  whether  that  were  St.  Bene- 
dict, St.  Francis,  or  St.  Dominick,  had  become  to  him 
an  act  of  devotion.  I  have  observed  that  many  who 
have  resided  long  in  Catholic  countries  are  apt  to  see, 
in  the  monastic  pictures,  only  this  selfish,  palpable  pur- 
pose; and,  associating  such  representations  with  the 
depravation  of  the  priestly  character,  the  tyranny  of 
rulers,  and  the  ignorance  of  the  people,  regard  them 
either  as  mere  objects  of  virtU,  where  the  artist  is  rare 
and  the  workmanship  beautiful,  —  or  as  objects  of  dis- 
gust and  ridicule,  where  they  have  not  this  fiuicied  value 
in  the  eyes  of  the  connoisseur. 

The  want  of  physical  beauty,  the  alloy  of  what  is 
earthly  and  self-seeking  in  the  moral  effect,  —  these  are 
surely  important  drawbacks  in  estimating  the  value  of 
tha  monastic  pictures  considered  as  religious  Art.  If 
they  can  still  charm  us,  still  attract  and  rivet  attention, 
still  excite  to  elevated  feeling,  it  is  owing  to  sources 
of  interest  which  I  will  now  endeavor  to  point  out 


4  INTRODUCTIOir. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  Monachism  in  Art,  taken  in 
a  lar^c  sense,  is  historically  intcrestin<r,  as  the  expres- 
sion of  a  most  im|)ortant  era  of  haman  coUare.  We 
are  outliving  the  j:rross  prejudices  which  once  repre- 
sented the  life  of  the  cloister  as  bcinp:  fh)m  first  to  last 
a  life  of  laziness  and  itnpostnro :  wc  know  that,  bat  for 
tlie  monks,  the  li^ht  of  liberty,  and  literature,  and  sci- 
ence, had  been  forever  extinguislied ;  and  that,  for  six 
centuries,  there  existed  for  the  thoughtful,  the  gentle, 
the  inquiring,  the  devout  spirit,  no  peace,  no  security, 
no  home  but  the  cloister.  There,  Learning  trimmed 
her  lamp ;  there,  Contemplation  "  pruned  her  wings  " ; 
there  the  traditions  of  Art,  preserved  from  age  to  age 
by  lonely,  studious  men,  kept  alive,  in  form  and  color, 
the  idea  of  a  beauty  beyond  that  of  earth,  —  of  a  might 
beyond  that  of  the  spear  and  the  shield,  —  of  a  Divine 
sympathy  with  suflfcring  humanity.  To  this  we  may 
add  another  and  a  stronger  claim  on  our  respect  and 
moral  sympathies.  The  protection  and  the  better  educa- 
tion given  to  women  in  these  early  communities ;  the 
venerable  and  distinguished  rank  assigned  to  them 
when,  as  governesses  of  their  Order,  they  became  in  a 
manner  dignitaries  of  the  Church ;  the  introduction 
of  their  beautiful  and  saintly  effigies,  clothed  with  all 
the  insignia  of  sanctity  and  authority,  into  the  deco- 
ration of  places  of  worship  and  books  of  devotion,  — 
did  more,  perhaps,  for  the  general  cause  of  womanhood 
than  all  the  boasted  institutions  of  chivalry. 

This  period  is  represented  to  us  in  the  Benedictine 
pictures  or  effigies.  Those  executed  for  the  Cistercians, 
the  Vallombrosians,  the  Camaldolesi  (or  hy  them,  for 
these  communities  produced  some  of  the  most  excelling 
of  the  early  artists),  are  especially  characterized  by  an 
air  of  settled  peace,  of  abstract  quietude,  —  something 
fixed  in  the  attitude  and  features,  recalling  the  con- 
ventual life  as  described  by  St.  Bernard.*    There  is  an 

*  *'  Bonum  eat  nos  hie  ease,  quia  homo  vitnt  puriua,  cadit 
rarius,  aurgit  velociua,  incedit  eautius,  quieacit  aeeuriua^ 
moritur  feliciua,   purgatur  citiua^  pntnUcUur  copioau*^ 


INTRODUCTION, 


5 


example  at  hand  in  the  assemblage  of  Saints  b  j  Taddeo 
Gaddi,  now  in  our  National  Gallery.  The  old  mosaics, 
and  the  most  ancient  Gothic  sculpture,  exhibit  still 
more  strongly  this  pervading  sentiment  of  a  calm, 
peaceful,  passionless  life ;  sometimes  even  in  the  female 
figures,  grave,  even  to  sternness,  but  oftener  elevated, 
even  to  grandeur. 

Then  folio \¥ed  a  period  when  tne  seclusion  of  the 
cloister-life  ceased  to  be  necessary,  and  ceased  to  do 
good.  Tiie  strong  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
active  and  the  contemplative  life,  between  life  in  the 
world  and  life  out  of  the  world,  could  no  longer  be 
safely  drawn.  The  seventh  century  after  the  death  of 
St.  Benedict  saw  the  breaking  forth  of  a  spirit  which 
left  the  deepest,  the  most  ineffaceable,  impression  on  the 
arts  and  the  culture  of  succeeding  times ;  and  some  of 
the  grandest  productions  of  human  genius,  in  painting, 
sculpture,  and  architecture,  signalized  the  rise  of  the 
Mendicant  Orders. 

To  understand  fully  the  character  of  these  produc- 
tions, it  is  necessary  to  comprehend  something  of  the 
causes  and  results  of  that  state  of  spiritual  excitement, 
that  frenzy  of  devotion,  which  seized  on  Christian  Eu- 
rope during  the  period  I  allude  to.  It  seems  to  me, 
that  in  this  movement  of  the  thirteenth  century  there 
was  something  analogous  to  the  times  through  which 
we  of  this  present  generation  have  lived.  There  had 
been  nearly  a  hundred  years  of  desolating  wars.     The 

(X  Good  is  it  for  us  to  dwell  here,  where  man  lives  more  purely } 
falls  more  rarely  ;  rises  more  quickly  ;  treads  more  cautiously  j 
rests  more  securely  }  dies  more  happily  ;  is  absolved  more  easily } 
and  rewarded  more  plenteously.") 

This  sentence  was  usually  inscribed  on  some  conspicuous  part 
of  the  Cistercian  houses.  Wordsworth,  from  whom  I  take  the 
quotation,  has  thus  paraphrased  it :  — 

**  Here  man  more  purely  l*ves }  less  oft  doth  fall } 
More  promptly  rises  }  walks  with  nicer  tread  } 
More  safely  rests  ;  dies  happier ;  is  freed 
Earlier  from  cleansing  fires }  and  gains  withal 
A  brighter  crown.** 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

Crusades  had  upheaved  society  from  its  depths,  as  a 
storm  upheaves  the  oi'ean,  and  changed  the  condition 
of  men  and  nationti.  Whole  provinces  were  Idt  with 
half  their  population,  whole  districts  remained  uncolti- 
vatcd  ;  whole  families,  &nd  tho(*e  the  hi^^hest  in  the  land, 
were  extiiip:ui8hcd,  and  the  homes  of  their  retainers  and 
vassals  left  desolate.  Scarce  a  liearth  in  Christendom 
beside  which  there  wept  not  some  childless,  husi landless, 
liopelcss  woman.  A  fi^neration  sprang  up,  physically 
predisposed  to  a  sort  of  morbid  exaltation,  and  power- 
fully acted  on  by  the  revelation  of  a  hitherto  unseen, 
uiifelt  world  of  woe.  In  the  words  of  Scripture,  "  Men 
could  not  stop  their  ears  from  hearing  of  blood,  nor 
shut  their  eyes  from  seeing  of  evil."  There  was  a 
deep,  almost  universal,  feeling  of  the  pressure  and  the 
burden  of  sorrow  ;  an  awakening  of  the  conscience  to 
wrong  ;  a  blind,  anxious  groping  for  the  right ;  a 
sense  that  what  had  hitherto  sufficed  to  humanity  would 
suffice  no  longer.  But  in  the  uneasy  ferment  of  men's 
minds,  religious  fear  took  the  place  of  religious  hope, 
and  the  religious  sympathies  and  aspirations  assumed 
in  their  excess  a  disordered  and  exaggerated  form. 
The  world  was  divided  l)etween  those  who  sought  to 
comfort  the  afflictions,  and  those  who  aspired  to  expiate 
the  sins,  of  humanity.  To  this  period  we  refer  the  wor- 
ship of  Mary  Magdalene,  the  passion  for  pilgrimages, 
for  penances,  for  martyrdoms;  for  self-immolation  to 
some  object  or  for  some  cause  lying  beyond  gdf.  An 
infusion  of  Orientalism  into  Western  Christianity  add- 
ed a  most  peculiar  tinge  to  the  religious  enthusiasm 
of  the  time,  a  sentiment  which  survived  in  the  palpable 
forms  of  Art  long  after  the  cause  had  passed  away. 
Pilgrims  returning  from  the  Holy  Land,  warriors  re- 
deemed from  captivity  among  the  Arabs  and  Saracens, 
brought  back  wild  wonders,  new  superstitions,  a  more 
dreamy  dread  of  the  ever-present  invisible,  —  enlarging 
in  tlie  minds  of  men  the  horizon  of  the  possible,  without 
enlarging  that  of  experience.  With  more  abundant 
food  for  the  fancy,  with  a  larger  sphere  of  action,  they 


INTRODUCTION,  7 

remained  ignorant  and  wretched.  As  one,  whose  dan- 
geon-walls  have  been  thrown  down  by  an  earthquake 
in  the  dead  of  night,  gropes  and  stumbles  amid  the 
rains,  and  knows  not,  till  the  dawn  comes,  how  to  esti- 
mate his  own  freedom,  how  to  use  his  recovered  pow- 
ers, —  thus  it  was  with  the  people.  But  what  was  dark 
miserj  and  bewilderment  in  the  weak  and  ignorant,  as- 
sumed in  the  more  highly  endowed  a  higher  form ;  and 
to  St.  Francis  and  his  Order  we  owe  what  has  been 
happily  called  the  Mystic  school  in  poetry  and  painting : 
that  school  which  so  strangely  combined  the  spiritual 
with  the  sensual,  and  the  beautiful  with  the  terrible, 
And  the  tender  with  the  inexorable ;  which  first  found 
utterance  in  the  works  of  Dante  and  of  the  ancient 
{Niinters  of  Tuscany  and  Umbria.  It  has  been  disputed 
often,  whether  the  suggestions  of  Dante  influenced  Gi- 
lotto,  or  the  creations  of  Giotto  inspired  Dante :  but  the 
true  influence  and  inspiration  were  aroand  both,  and 
dominant  over  both,  when  the  two  greatest  men  of  their 
age  united  to  celebrate  a  religion  of  retribution  and  suf- 
fering ;  to  solemnize  the  espousals  of  sanctity  with  pov- 
erty,— with  the  self-abnegation  which  despises  all  things, 
nther  than  with  the  love  that  pardons  and  the  hope 
that  rcgoioes ;  and  which,  in  closing  « the  gates  of  pleas- 
ure,'' would  have  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind. 
We  still  recognize  in  the  Franciscan  pictures,  those  at 
least  which  reflect  the  asceticism  of  the  early  itinerant 
preachers  and  their  haggard  enthusiasm,  something 
•trangely^ncouth  and  dervish-like.  Men  scourging 
themselves,  haunted  by  demons,  prostrate  in  prayer, 
Uplifted  in  ecstatic  visions,  replaced  in  devotional  pic- 
tures the  dry,  formal,  but  dignified  flguries  of  ah  earlier 
time.  For  the  calmly  meditative  life  of  the  Benedic- 
tine pictures,  we  have  the  expression  of  a  life  which 
panted,  trembled,  and  aspired ;  a  life  of  spiritual  con- 
test, of  rapture,  or  of  agony.  This  is  the  life  which  is 
reflected  to  us  in  the  pictures  painted  for  those  religious 
brotherhoods  which  sprang  up  between  1200  and  1300, 
4nd  drew  together  and  concentrated,  in  a  common  feel- 


8  INTRODUCTION, 

ing,  or  for  a  common  purpose,  the  fervid  energies  of 
kindred  minds. 

If  the  three  great  divisions  ot  the  regnlar  Ecclesias- 
tics seem  to  have  had  each  a  distinct  vocation,  there 
was  at  least  one  vocation  common  to  all.  The  Bene- 
dictine monks  instituted  schools  of  learning ;  the  Au- 
f  ustines  built  noble  cathedrals  ;  the  Mendicant  Orders 
founded  hospitals  ;  all  became  patrons  of  the  fine  arts, 
on  such  a  scale  of  munificence  that  the  protection  of  the 
most  renowned  princes  has  been  mean  and  insignificant 
in  comparison.  Yet,  in  their  relation  to  Art,  this  splen- 
did patronage  was  the  least  of  their  merits.  The  ear- 
liest artists  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  the  monks  of  the 
Benedictine  Orders.  In  their  convents  were  preserved 
from  age  to  age  the  traditional  treatment  of  sacred  sub- 
jects, and  that  pure  unworldly  sentiment  which  in  later 
times  was  ill  exclianged  for  the  learning  of  schools  and 
the  competition  of  academies ;  and  as  they  were  the 
only  depositaries  of  chemical  and  medical  knowledge, 
and  the  only  compounders  of  drugs,  we  owe  to  them 
also  the  discovery  and  preparation  of  some  of  the  finest 
colors,  and  the  invention  or  the  improvement  of  the  im- 
plements used  in  painting ;  —  for  the  monks  not  only 
prepared  their  own  colors,  but  when  they  employed 
secular  painters  in  decorating  their  convents,  the  mate- 
rials furnished  from  their  own  laboratories  were  conse- 
quently of  the  best  and  most  durable  kind.*  As  archi- 
tects, as  glass  painters,  as  mosaic  workers,  as  carvers 
in  wood  and  metal,  they  were  the  precursors  of  all 
that  has  since  been  achieved  in  Christian  Art ;  and  if 
so  few  of  these  admirable  and  gifted  men  are  known  to 
us  individually  and  by  name,  it  is  because  they  worked 
for  the  honor  of  God  and  their  community,  —  not  for 
profit,  nor  for  reputation. 

Theophilus  the  Monk,  whose  most  curious  and  im- 
portant treatise  on  the  fine  arts  and  chemistry  was  writ- 

*  Materials  for  a  History  of  Oil  Painting,  by  Sir  Charles  East> 
fake,  p.  6. 


INTRODUCTION,  9 

ten  in  the  twelfth  centary,  and  lately  repablished  in 
Prance  and  in  England,  was  a  Benedictine.  Friar  Ba- 
con was  a  Franciscan,  and  Friar  Albert-le-Grand  (Al- 
bertns  Magnus)  a  Dominican.  It  is  on  record,  that  the 
knowledge  of  physics  attained  by  these  two  remarkable 
men  exposed  them  to  the  charge  of  magic.  Shake- 
speare, "  who  saw  the  thing  that  hath  been  as  the  thing 
that  is,"  introduces  Friar  Laurence  as  issuing  from  his 
cell  at  dawn  of  day  to  gather  simples  and  herbs,  and 
moralizing  on  their  properties.  The  portrait  is  drawn 
throughout  with  such  wonderful  and  instinctive  truth, 
it  is  as  if  one  of  the  old  friars  of  the  fourteenth  century 
had  sat  for  it.* 

•  In  reference  to  the  monastic  artists,  it  is  worth  ob- 
serving that  the  Benedictines  are  distinguished  by  the 
title  Don  or  Dom  (Dominus)^  peculiar,  I  believe,  to  the 
ecclesiastics  of  this  Order :  as  Don  Lorenzo  Monaco, 
who  painted  the  beautiful  Annunciation  in  the  Florence 
Gallery ;  t  Don  Giulio  Clovio,  the  famous  miniatore  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  The  painters  of  the  Mendicant 
Orders  have  the  prefix  of  Fra  or  Frate,  as  Fra  Giacopo 
da  Tnrrita,  a  celebrated  mosaic  worker  in  the  thirteenth 
century;  Fra  Antonio  da  Negroponte,  who  painted 
that  supremely  beautiful  and  dignified  Madonna  in  the 
Frari  at  Venice ;  —  both  Franciscans  :  Fra  Filippo 
Lippi,  the  Carmelite :  Fra  Beato  Angelico  da  Fiesole, 
and  Fra  Bartolomeo  (styled,  par  excellence,  II  Frate,  the 
Friar),  —  both  Dominicans. 

Thus  much  for  the  historical  and  artistic  interest  of 
the  monastic  representations  taken  generally.  Consid- 
ered separately,  some  of  these  pictures  have  even  a 
deeper  interest. 

*  "  The  good  friar  of  this  play,*^  says  Mr.  Knight,  in  his  notes 
to  Romeo  and  Juliet,  "  in  his  kindliness,  his  learning,  and  his  in- 
clination to  mix  with,  and  perhaps  control,  the  affairs  of  the 
world,  is  no  unapt  representation  of  one  of  the  distinguished  Oi^ 
der  of  St.  Francis  in  its  best  days." 

t  o.  Sacred  and  Iiegendary  Art. 


lo  INTRODUCTION. 

The  foandera  of  the  Tarions  leligioiis  oommnnitieB 
were  all  remarkable  men,  and  some  of  them  were  more, 
—  they  were  wonderful  men  ;  men  of  genina,  of  deep 
insight  into  human  nature,  of  determined  will,  of  large 
sympathies,  of  high  aspirations,  —  poets,  who  did  not 
write  poems,  but  acted  them :  all  difiering  from  each 
other  in  character,  as  their  various  commnnities  dif- 
fered from  each  otiier  in  aim  and  purpose.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  in  all  works  of  art  dedicated  bj  those 
communities,  the  eflSgics  of  their  patriarchs  and  found- 
ers claim  a  distinguished  place.  Thus  we  have  in  the 
monastic  pictures  a  series  of  biographies  of  the  roost  in- 
teresting and  instructive  kind.  It  will  be  said  that  this 
is  biography  idealized.  Idealized  certainly,  but  not  fid- 
sified ;  —  not,  I  think,  nearly  so  felsified  as  in  books. 
After  having  studied  the  written  lives  of  St.  Benedict, 
8t.  Bernard,  St.  Francis,  St.  CUra,  St.  Dominick,  and 
others,  to  enable  me  to  understand  the  pictures  which 
relate  to  them,  I  found  it  was  the  pictures  which  ena- 
bled me  better  to  understand  their  lives  and  characters. 
I  speak,  of  course,  of  good  pictures,  painted  by  earnest 
and  conscientious  artists,  where  traditional  or  charao- 
teristic  resemblance  has  been  attended  to.  The  monk- 
ish pictures  of  the  later  schools  are  in  general  as  igno- 
rantly  false  in  character  as  they  are  degraded  in  taste 
and  stvle. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  want  of  beauty  in  the  early  pic 
turcs  of  monastic  subjects ;  but  though  the  figures  of 
the  ascetic  saints  are  not  in  themselves  beautiful,  the 
pictures  in  which  they  occur  are  sometimes  of  the  highest 
conceivable  beauty,  either  through  the  effect  of  sugges- 
tive and  harmonious  combination,  or  the  most  striking 
and  significant  contrasts.  For  instance,  a  group  which 
meets  us  at  every  turn  is  the  comI)ination  of  the  dark- 
robed,  sad-visaged,  self-denying  monk,  with  the  lovely, 
benign  Madonna  and  the  godlike  innocence  of  her  Child. 
Sometimes  the  votary  kneels,  adoring  in  cflSgy  the  di- 
vine Maternity,  the  glorification  of  those  sofb  afiections 
which,  though  removed  far  from  him  in  his  leclusion. 


JNTnODXrCTION.  II 

are  bh>Qght  near  to  him,  and  at  once  revealed  and 
consecrated  through  t!ie  power  of  Art.  Sometimes  the 
sainted  recluse  stands  with  an  air  of  di»^nity  by  the 
throne  of  the  Virgin-mother ;  sometimes  the  introduc- 
tion of  angels  scattering  flowers,  or  hymning  music,  for 
the  solace  of  the  haggard  hermit,  form  most  striking* 
and  poedcal  contrasts. 

And,  again,  the  gronping  in  some  of  the  monastic 
pictnres  is  not  merely  beautiful,  it  is  often  in  the  highest 
degree  significant.  It  has  struck  me  that  such  pictures 
are  not  sufficiently  considered  like  books,  as  having  a 
sort  of  vitality  of  meaning ;  only,  like  books,  before  we 
can  read  them  we  must  Understand  the  language  in 
which  they  are  written.  I  have  given  a  number  of  in- 
stances in  the  course  of  this  volume.  I  will  add  another 
which  has  just  occurred  to  me.  In  the  Pitti  Palace 
there  is  an  "  Annunciation  of  the  Virgin,"  in  which  St. 
Philip  Benozzi,  who  lived  in  the  fourteenth  centnry, 
stands  by  in  his  ample  black  robes,  listening  to  the  an- 
gelic salutation.  Wc  are  struck,  not  by  the  anachronism, 
—  where  the  subject  is  not  treated  as  an  event,  but  as  a 
mystery,  there  can  be  no  anachronism,  as  I  have  else- 
where shown,  —  but  we  are  embarrassed  by  what  ap- 
pears a  manifest  incongruity;  and  such  it  is  on  the  wails 
of  a  palace :  in  its  original  place  the  whole  composition 
was  full  of  propriety,  and,  through  its  associations, 
becatne  harmonized  into  poetry.  It  was  painted  for 
the  Order  of  the  Servi,  in  honor  of  their  chief  saint, 
Filippo  Benozzi ;  it  was  suspended  in  their  church  at 
Florence,  dedicated  to  the  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  (the  famous  Annunziata).  The  Order  was 
founded  in  especial  honor  of  the  Virgin,  and,  by  a  rule 
of  the  original  institute,  all  their  devotions  l)egan  with 
the  words  of  the  angel  Gabriel,  "  Ave  Maria ! "  Thus 
we  have  the  explanation  at  once ;  and  the  dark-robed, 
listening  monk  in  the  background  becomes  an  object 
of  intelligent  interest  to  those  who  understand  the  im- 
port and  the  original  purpose  of  this  fine  picture. 


II  INTRODUCTION, 

I  will  give  another  example :  we  often  meet  with 
pictares  of  St.  Dominick  holding  the  keys  of  St.  Peter, 
or  receiving  them  from  the  apostle.  The  allusion  is  to 
a  custom  of  tlio  papal  court,  which  has  prevailed  since 
the  days  of  Innocent  III.  The  important  and  confi- 
dential oflSce  of  Master  of  the  Sacred  Palace  was  given 
to  St.  Dominick  in  1218,  and  has  ever  since  been  held 
by  a  member  of  the  Dominican  Order.  The  pictured 
allegory  is  thus  the  record  of  an  historical  fact,  and 
commemorates  one  of  the  chief  honors  of  the  com- 
munity. 


XL 


The  representations  of  Monastic  Saints  may  be 
classed,  like  other  sacred  and  legendary  subjects,  as 
either  devotional  or  historical. 

The  Devotional  pictures  exhibit  the  saint  as  an  ob- 
ject of  reverence,  either  in  his  relation  to  God  or  his 
relation  to  man ;  tliey  set  forth  his  sanctity  or  his  charity. 

In  those  effigies  which  express  his  sanctity,  he  stands 
with  his  proper  habit  and  attribute,  either  alone  or  beside 
the  throne  of  the  Virgin ;  or  he  is  in  the  attitude  of 
prayer,  kneeling  before  the  Madonna  and  Child ;  or  he  is 
uplifled  on  clouds,  with  outstretched  arms ;  or  he  is  visited 
by  angels ;  or  he  beholds  the  glory  of  Paradise ;  or  the 
most  blessed  of  Mothers  places  in  his  arms  her  Divine 
Infant ;  or  the  Saviour  receives  him  into  joy  eternal. 
In  all  such  pictures,  the  purpose  is  to  exalt  the  human 
into  the  divine.  The  principle  of  Monachism  which 
pervades  the  early  legends  of  St.  Anthony  and  others 
of  the  saintly  hermits,  that  which  made  sanctity  consist 
in  the  absolute  renunciation  of  all  natural  feelings  and 
aftections,  we  find  reproduced  in  the  later  monastic 
representations,  sometimes  in  a  painful  form :  — 

*'  They  who,  through  trllfiil  dlsesteem  of  life, 
AflRront  the  eye  of  Solitude,  shall  find 
Xhat  her  mild  nature  can  be  terrible." 


INTRODUCTION,  13 

And  terrihle  it  certainly  appears  to  as  in  some  of  these 
pictures,  where  the  solitude  is  haunted  hy  demons,  or 
defiled  by  temptations,  or  agnized  by  rueful  penance, 
or  visited  by  awful  and  preternatural  apparitions  of  the 
crucified  Redeemer.  In  the  later  pictures  of  the  female 
saints  of  the  various  Orders,  —  those,  for  instance,  of 
St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  St.  Theresa,  St.  Maria  Madda- 
lena  de'  Pazzi,  and  others,  —  the  representation  becomes 
offensive,  as  well  as  painful  and  pathetic.  I  recollect 
such  a  picture  in  the  Corsini  Palace,  which  I  cannot 
recall  without  horror,  and  dare  not  attempt  to  describe. 
The  gross  materialism  of  certain  views  of  Christianity, 
not  confined  to  the  Roman  Catholics,  strikes  us  in  pic- 
tures more  than  in  words;  yet  surely  it  is  the  same 
thing. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  view  of  the  sanctity  of 
solitude,  placed  before  us  in  the  earlier  monastic  pic- 
tures, which  is  soothing  and  attractive  far  beyond  the 
power  of  words.  How  beautiful  that  soft,  settled  calm, 
which  seems  to  have  descended  on  the  features,  as  on 
the  souls,  of  those  who  have  kept  themselves  unspotted 
from  the  world  !  How  dear  to  the  fatigued  or  wounded 
spirit  that  blessed  portraiture  of  stillness  with  commu- 
nion, of  seclusion  with  sympathy,  which  breathes  from 
such  pictures !  Who,  at  some  moments,  has  not  felt 
their  unspeakable  charm  ?  —  felt,  when  the  weight  of 
existence  pressed  on  the  fevered  nerves  and  weary  heart, 
the  need  of  some  refuge  from  life  on  this  side  of  death, 
and  all  the  real,  or  at  least  the  possible,  sanctity  of 
solitude  ? 

But  again :  where  the  saint  has  been  canonized  for 
works  of  charitv,  which  exalted  him  in  his  human  rela- 
tion,  it  is  common  in  the  devotional  effigies  to  express 
this,  not  by  some  special  act,  but  in  a  poetical  and 
general  manner.  He  stands  looking  up  to  heaven,  with 
a  mendicant  or  a  sick  man  prostrate  at  his  feet ;  or  he 
is  giving  alms  to  Christ  in  the  likeness  of  a  beggar;  or 
he  is  holding  aloft  the  crucifix,  or  the  standard,  as  a 


14  JNTRODUCTION. 

proacher  to  the  poor.  Sach  pictures  are  often  of  ex- 
ceeding beauty;  and  the  sentiment  conveyed  —  «*Be 
foUowcra  together  of  me,  and  mark  them  which  walk 
so  as  ye  have  us  for  an  ensample  **  — would  be  irresisti- 
ble were  it  not  for  that  frequent  alloy  of  pride  and 
emulation,  in  the  purpose  of  the  picture,  of  which  I 
have  spoken. 

Such  figures  as  those  of  St.  Theresa  interceding  for 
souls  in  purgatory,  and  St.  Dominick  doing  penance 
for  the  sins  of  others,  express,  at  once,  the  sanctity  and 
the  charity  of  the  saint. 

The  historical  subjects  are  those  which  exhibit  some 
event  or  action  in  the  life  of  the  saint,  generally  ex- 
pressing the  virtues  for  which  he  was  canonized ;  conse- 
quently they  may  be  regarded  as  the  attestation,  in  a 
dramatic  form,  either  of  his  sanctity  or  his  charity. 

Thus  we  have  in  the  first  class  his  miracles  performed 
eitlier  before  or  after  death,  and  these  miracles  are  almost 
invariably  copied  from  those  of  our  Saviour.  The 
dead  are  raised,  the  blind  see,  the  dumb  speak,  the  sick 
are  restored,  food  is  multiplied ;  the  saint  walks  through 
fire  or  over  water,  stills  the  tempest,  or  expels  evil 
spirits.  When  these  wonders  are  not  copied  literally 
from  the  Gospels,  they  are  generally  allegorical;  as 
where  roses  spring  from  the  blood  of  St.  Francis,  or 
fall  from  the  lips  of  St.  Angelo ;  or  where  St.  Francis 
preaches  to  the  birds,  or  St.  Antony  of  Padua  to  the 
fishes ;  or  where  the  same  saint  discovers  the  miser's 
heart  buried  in  his  treasure  chest,  —  "  where  his  treasure 
is,  there  shall  his  heart  be  also."  Or  they  are  parables 
for  the  purpose  of  setting  forth  some  particular  or  dis- 
puted dogma  of  the  Church,  as  the  mule  kneeling  before 
the  Host  when  carried  by  St.  Antony,  or  the  Saviour 
administering  in  person  or  by  an  angel  the  consecrated 
wafer  to  St.  Bonaventura.  Or  they  are  obvious  inven- 
tions to  extol  the  glory  of  some  particular  saint,  and, 
through  him,  the  popularity  and  interests  of  the  com- 
munity to  which  he  belonged  :  such  is  the  whole  story 
of  St.  Diego  d'AlcaKt. 


INTR  OB  U<!TIO}f.  1 5 

liartjrdomB,  of  coarse,  come  under  this  designation, 
bat  i^iBong  the  monastic  saints  there  are  few  who  suf- 
fered death  for  their  faith.  The  death  of  St.  Peter  the 
Dominican,  called  the  Martyr,  (persecutor  at  once  and 
victim,)  was  an  assassination  ratlier  than  a  martyrdom : 
it  is,  however,  the  most  important  among  these  represen- 
tations, and,  in  the  hands  of  Titian,  in  the  highest  de- 
gree tra<;ic  and  striking. 

Less  frequent  in  the  churches,  but  more  interesting, 
are  those  dramatic  and  historical  pictures  which  place 
the  saint  before  us  in  his  relation  to  humanity ;  as  where 
he  is  distributing  alms,  or  ministering  to  the  sick,  or 
redeeining  slaves  and  prisoners,  or  preaching  to  the 
poor.  Pictures  of  St.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary  tending 
the  sick  boy  in  the  hospital;  of  St.  Charles  Borromco 
walking  amid  the  plague-stricken  wretches,  bearing  the 
sacrament  in  his  hand ;  of  St.  Antony  of  Padua  rebuk- 
ing the  tyrant  EccelUno ;  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  carrying 
home  the  foundlings ;  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena  convert- 
ing the  robbers ;  and  innumerable  others,  —  belong  to 
this  class. 


m 


In  arranging  according  to  their  dignity  the  saints  of 
the  diiierent  Orders,  the  Founders  would  claim,  of 
coarse,  the  first  place ;  after  them  follow  the  Martyrs, 
if  any;  then  the  Royal  Saints  who  wear  the  habit; 
lastly,  the  Canonized  Saints  of  both  sexes,  taking  rank 
according  to  their  celebrity  and  popularity. 

St  Benedict  is  the  general  patriarch  of  all  the  Bene- 
dictine communities,  who,  next  to  him,  venerate  their 
separate  founders : 

St.  Bomualdo,  founder  pf  the  Camaldolesi ; 

St.  John  Gualberto,  of  the  Vallombrosians ; 

St.  Bruno,  of  the  Carthusians ; 

St.  Bernard,  of  the  Cistercians. 


1 6  INTRODUCTION. 

St.  Angastine  of  Hippo,  one  of  the  four  great  Latin 
Dof'tors,  is  considered  as  the  general  patriarch  of  the 
Au;^ii8tinc8,  and  of  all  the  commanitics  founded  on  his 
Kulc:  each  venerating  besides,  as  separate  head  or 
founder, 

St.  Philip  Benozzi,  of  the  Servi ; 

St.  Peter  Nolasco,  of  the  Order  of  Mercy ; 

St.  Bridget  of  Sweden,  of  the  Brigittines. 

The  Augustine  Canons  also  regard  as  their  patriarch 
and  patron  St.  Joseph,  the  husband  of  the  Virgin. 

St.  Francis  is  the  general  patriarch  of  the  Francis- 
cans, Capuchins,  Observants,  Conventuals,  Minimes, 
and  all  other  Orders  derived  from  his  Rule. 

St.  Dominick  founded  the  Dominicans,  or  Preaching 
Friars. 

St.  Albert  of  Vercelli  is  generally  considered  as  the 
founder  of  the  Carmelites,  who,  however,  claim  as  their 
patriarch  Elijah  the  Prophet. 

St.  Jerome  is  claimed  as  patriarch  by  the  Jerony- 
mites ;  and  St.  Ignatius  Loyola  was  the  founder  of 
Jesuitism. 

In  those  grand  sacred  subjects  which  exhibit  a  congre- 
gation of  saints,  as  the  Paradiso,  the  Last  Judgment,  and 
the  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  the  founders  of  the  difler- 
ent  Orders  are  usually  conspicuous.  I  will  give  an 
example  of  such  a  poetical  assemblage  of  the  various 
Orders,  because  it  is  especially  interesting  for  the  pro- 
foundly significant  treatment ;  because  it  is  important 
as  a  chef-d'oeuvre  of  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  early  ar- 
tists, Angelico  da  Fiesole ;  and  because,  having  been 
recently  engraved  by  Mr.  George  Scharf  for  the  Arun- 
del Society,  it  is  likely  to  be  in  the  hands  of  many,  and 
convenient  for  immediate  reference. 

The  picture  to  which  I  allude  is  the  fresco  of  the 
Crucifixion  painted  on  the  wall  of  the  Chapter  House 
of  St.  Mark  at  Florence.  To  understand  how  pro- 
foundly every  part  of  this  grand  composition  has  been 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

meditated  and  worked  oat,  we  most  bear  in  mind  that 
it  was  painted  in  a  convent  dedicated  to  St.  Mark ;  in 
the  city  of  Florence ;  in  the  days  of  the  first  and  great- 
est of  the  Medici,  Cosmo  and  Lorenzo ;  and  that  it  was 
the  work  of  a  Dominican  friar,  for  the  glory  of  the 
Dominican  Order. 

In  the  centre  of  the  picture  is  the  Redeemer  cmclfied 
between  the  two  thieves.  At  the  foot  of  the  cross  is 
the  Qsual  group  of  the  Virgin  fainting  in  the  arms  of 
St.  John  the  Evangelist,  M^ary  Magdalene,  and  another 
Mary.  To  the  right  of  this  group,  and  the  left  of  the 
spectator,  is  seen  St.  Mark,  as  patron  of  the  convent, 
kneeling,  and  holding  his  Gospel ;  behind  him  stands 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  as  protector  of  the  city  of  Flor- 
ence. Beyond  are  the  three  martyrs,  St  Laurence,  St. 
Cosmo,  and  St.  Damian,  patrons  of  the  Medici  family. 
The  two  former,  as  patrons  of  Cosmo  and  Lorenzo  de' 
Medici,  look  up  to  the  Saviour  with  devotion;  St. 
Damian  turns  away  and  hides  his  face.  On  the  left  of 
the  cross  we  have  the  group  of  the  founders  of  the 
various  Orders.  First,  St.  Dominick,  kneeling,  with 
hands  outspread,  gazes  up  at  the  Crucified ;  behind  him 
St.  Augustine,  and  St.  Albert  the  Carmelite,  mitred 
and  robed  as  bishops ;  in  front  kneels  St.  Jerome  as  a 
Jeronymite  hermit,  the  cardinal's  hat  at  his  feet ;  behind 
him  kneels  St.  Francis ;  behind  St.  Francis  stand  two 
venerable  figures,  St.  Benedict  and  St.  Romualdo ;  and 
in  front  of  them  kneels  St.  Bernard,  with  his  book ; 
and,  still  more  in  front,  St.  John  Gualberto,  in  the  atti- 
tude in  which  he  looked  up  at  the  crucifix  when  he 
spared  his  brother's  murderer.  Beyond  this  group  of 
monks  Angelico  has  introduced  two  of  the  famous  friars 
of  his  own  community :  St.  Peter  Martyr  kneels  in  front, 
and  behind  him  stands  St.  Thomas  Aquinas ;  the  two, 
thus  placed  together,  represent  the  sanctity  and  the  learn- 
ing of  the  Dominican  Order,  and  close  this  sublime  and 
wonderful  composition.  Thus  considered,  we  may  read 
it  like  a  sacred  poem,  and  every  separate  figure  is  a 
study  of  character.  I  hardly  know  anything  in  paint- 
2 


i8  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  finer  than  the  pathetic  beaoty  of  the  head  of  the 
penitent  thief,  and  the  mingled  ferror  and  intellectual 
retinement  in  the  head  of  St  Bernard. 

It  will  be  remarked  that,  in  this  group  of  patriarchs, 
"  Capi  e  Fondatori  de*  religioni"  St.  Bruno,  tlie  famous 
founder  of  the  Carthusians,  is  omitted.  At  the  time 
the  fresco  was  painted,  about  1440,  St.  Bruno  was  not 
canonized. 

We  have  portraits  of  distinguished  members  of  the 
various  communities  who  were  never  canonized,  but 
these  do  not  properly  belong  to  sacred  Art.  The  de- 
cree of  beatification  did  not  confer  the  privilege  of  being 
invoked  as  intercessor  and  portrayed'  in  the  churches ; 
it  was  merely  a  declaration  that  the  personage  distin- 
guished for  holiness  of  life  had  been  received  into  bliss, 
and  thence  received  the  title  of  Beato,  Blessed.  The 
bull  of  canonization  was  a  much  more  solemn  ordinance, 
and  conferred  a  species  of  divinity :  it  was  the  apotheo- 
sis of  a  being  supposed  to  have  been  endowed  while  on 
earth  with  privileges  above  humanity,  with  miraculous 
powers ;  and  regarded  with  such  favor  by  Christ,  whom 
he  had  imitated  on  earth,  that  his  prayers  and  inter- 
cessions before  the  throne  of  grace  might  avail  for 
those  whom  he  had  left  in  the  world.  To  obtain  the 
canonization  of  one  of  their  members  became  with  each 
community  an  object  of  ambition.  The  popes  fre- 
quently used  their  prerogative  in  favor  of  an  Order  to 
which  they  had  belonged,  or  which  they  regarded  with 
particular  interest.  Sometimes  the  favor  was  obtained 
through  the  intercession  of  crowned  heads. 

In  the  monastic  pictures  it  is  most  especially  neces- 
sary to  ascertain  the  date  of  the  canonization  in  order 
to  settle  the  identity  of  the  personage.  I  will  give  an 
example.  There  is  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  a  remarka- 
bly fine  devotional  picture,  by  Garofalo,  representing 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Greorge  standing,  and  a  little  behind 
them,  in  the  centre,  a  saint  in  a  white  habit,  seated  with 
a  pen  and  an  open  book  in  his  hand,  looking  up  to  the 
Madonna  in  glory.     This  figure  is  called  in  the  cata> 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

logne  St.  Bruno,  Now  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  U  in 
St.  Bernard,  and  not  St.  Bruno :  for,  in  the  first  piffle, 
the  habit  has  not  the  proper  form  of  the  Carthusian 
habit,  — there  is  no  scapulary  united  by  the  band  at  the 
sides ;  secondly,  it  was  St.  Bernard,  not  St.  Bruno,  who 
wrote  the  praises  of  the  Virgin ;  and,  thirdly,  the  whole 
question  is  set  at  rest  by  the  &ct  that  St.  Bruno  was 
not  canonized  till  the  beginning  of  the  seyenteenth  cen- 
tury, consequently  could  not  appear  between  St.  Peter 
and  St.  George  in  a  picture  painted  in  the  beginning 
of  the  sixteenth. 

The  color  and  form  of  the  habit  are  also  of  great 
importance  in  ascertaining  the  name  of  the  personage ; 
but  though,  at  a  single  glance^  we  distinguish  the  black 
Benedictine  monk  from  the  white  Cistercian,  and  the 
gray  or  brown  tunic  of  the  Franciscan  from  the  white 
tunic  and  black  mantle  of  the  Dominican,  it  is  not  al- 
ways easy  to  discriminate  further.  St.  Benedict,  for 
instance,  sometimes  wears  the  black,  and  sometimes  the 
white,  habit;  and  the  color  will  decide  whether  the 
picture  was  painted  for  the  Monad  Neri  or  for  the  Ke- 
formed  Benedictines.  I  have  explained  this  at  length 
in  the  legend  of  the  saint,  and  will  only  point  to  the 
picture  by  Francia  in  our  National  Gallery  as  an  ex- 
ample of  St.  Benedict  in  the  white  habit. 

Gray  was  the  original  color  of  the  Franciscan  habit. 
The  Reformed  Franciscans  introduced  the  dark-brown 
tunic :  the  girdle,  of  a  twisted  hempen  cord,  remains 
the  peculiar  distinction  of  the  habit  at  all  times. 

The  black  habit  is  worn  by  the  Augustines,  the 
Servi,  the  Oratorians,  and  the  Jesuits. 

The  white  habit  is  worn  by  the  Cistercians,  the 
Camaldolesi,  the  Port-Royalists,  the  Trappistes,  the 
Trinitarians. 

Black  over  white,  by  the  Dominicans. 

White  over  black,  by  the  Premonstratensians  and 
the  Carmelites. 

The  tonsure,  the  shaven  crown,  has  been  from  very 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

early  times  one  of  the  diBtiiigiiishiiig  sigiui  of  the  priest- 
hood. To  shave  the  head  was  aDciently  an  expression 
of  penitence  and  mourning,  and  was  thence  adopted  hy 
the  primitive  hermits  in  the  solitudes  of  Egypt.  The 
form  of  the  tonsure  was  settled  by  the  Synod  of  Toledo 
in  633 ;  and  the  circle  of  short  hair  left  roimd  the  head 
has  since  been  styled  the  o^encoZcroton  (corona  clericalis). 
The  Carthusians  alone  of  the  Monkish  Orders  shaved 
the  whole  head,  in  sign  of  greater  austerity. 

I  do  not  know  what  is  the  specific  rule  of  the  difier- 
ent  Orders  with  regard  to  beards ;  but  in  pictures  we 
find  long  beards  worn  only  by  the  early  Benedictines, 
the  Hermits,  and  the  Capuchins. 

But  when,  with  some  attention,  we  have  settled  the 
Order,  it  requires  some  further  examination  to  dis- 
criminate the  personage.  This  is  determined  by  some 
particular  attribute,  or  by  some  characteristic  treat- 
ment ;  by  the  relative  position  of  the  figures ;  or  by  the 
locality  for  which  the  picture  was  painted,  —  all  of 
which  have  to  be  critically  considered.  Some  saints, 
as  St.  Francis,  St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary,  are  easily  and  at  once  discriminated ;  others, 
after  a  long  study  of  characteristics  and  prol^ilities, 
leave  us  at  a  loss. 

And,  first,  with  regard  to  the  distinctive  emblems 
and  attributes.  They  are  the  same  already  enumerated 
and  explained,  in  the  first  series  of  this  work,  as  of  gen- 
eral application  in  the  sacred  and  legendary  subjects ; 
but  in  the  monastic  pictures  they  have  sometimes  a 
particular  significance,  which  I  shall  endeavor  to  point 
out. 

The  Glory  expresses  the  canonized  saint :  it  ought 
not  to  be  given  to  a  Beato.  In  some  instances,  where 
the  figure  of  the  saint  has  been  painted  before  the  date 
of  the  canonization,  the  glory  has  been  added  after- 
wards ;  in  the  later  schools  of  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries  it  is  omitted. 


INTRODUCTION,  21 

The  Dbagon  or  the  Demon  at  the  feet  of  the  saint 
is  a  common  attribate,  and  bears  the  common  mean- 
ing, —  that  of  sin  and  the  world  overcome  :  but  some- 
times the  Demon  or  Demons,  chained  to  a  rock  behind, 
or  led  captive,  signify  heresy  vanquished ;  as  in  pic- 
tures of  St.  Bernard,  the  great  polemic  of  the  middle 
ages. 

The  Hind  or  Stag,  as  the  general  emblem  of  soli- 
tude, is  frequent ;  but  it  has  a  special  meaning  in  the 
legends  of  St.  Giles  and  St.  Felix  de  Valois. 

Wild  Beasts,  such  as  bears,  wolves,  &c.,  at  the 
feet  of  a  saint,  originally  signified  that  he  had  cleared  a 
wilderness,  or  founded  a  convent  in  a  solitude.  When 
the  original  signification  was  forgotten,  some  legend 
was  invented  or  suggested  to  account  for  it. 

The  Crucifix  held  in  the  hand  signified  a  preach- 
er ;  in  this  sense  it  is  given  to  St.  Francis,  St.  Domi- 
nick,  St.  Peter  Martyr,  St.  John  Capistrano,  St.  Fran- 
cis Xavier,  St.  Vincent  Ferrier.  Merely  as  a  symbol 
of  penance  and  devout  faith  it  is  given  to  St.  Francis, 
St.  Margaret  of  Cortona,  St.  Theresa.  It  has  a  spe- 
cial significance  in  the  pictures  of  St.  John  Gualberto 
and  St.  Catherine  of  Siena. 

The  Lily,  as  the  emblem  of  purity  and  chastity,  is 
common  to  hundreds  of  saints,  male  and  female  :  it  is, 
however,  especially  characteristic  of  St.  Clara,  St.  An 
tony  of  Padua,  St.  Dominick,  and  St.  Catherine  of 
Siena ;  and  also  of  those  young  saints  who  made  earlj 
vows  of  celibacy,  as  St.  Casimir,  St.  Stanislas,  St-' 
Aloysius  of  Gonzaga.  The  crucifix  twined  with  tha 
lily,  common  in  late  pictures,  signifies  devotion  and  pu- 
rity of  heart :  it  is  given  particularly  to  St.  Nicholas  of 
Tolentino.  But  the  lily  being  also  the  symbol  of  the 
Virgin,  and  consecrated  to  her,  is  placed  near  those 
saints  who  were  distinguished  by  their  devotion  to  the 
Mother  of  the  Redeemer,  as  in  pictures  of  St.  Bernard. 

The  Infant  Chbist  placed  in  the  arms  of  a  saint  is 
a  common  allegory  or  legend,  but  comparatively  mod- 
em, and  a  favorite  subject  of  the  later  schools  of  art. 


5  ,  INTRODUCTION. 

]  Wieve  it  to  be  derived  from  the  legend  of  St.  Antony 
(rf  Padua,  of  whom  it  is  related  that  the  radiant  figure 
or'  Christ  descended  and  stood  on  the  open  book  of  the 
Gospel  while  preaching  to  the  people.  The  pictures  of 
the  Madonna  and  Child,  that  universal  subject  in  all  re- 
ligious edifices,  may,  in  heated  imaginations,  have  given 
rise  to  those  visions  so  common  in  the  lives  of  the  mo- 
nastic saints,  where  the  Virgin-mother,  bending  firom 
her  throne,  or  attended  by  a  train  of  angels,  resigns  her 
Divine  Infant  to  the  outspread  eager  arms  of  the  kneel- 
ing recluse.  Such  representations  we  have  of  St.  Cath- 
erine of  Siena,  St.  Theresa,  St.  Catherine  of  Bologna, 
and  indeed  of  all  the  nun-saints  ;  also  of  St.  Frauds, 
St.  Antony  of  Padua,  St.  Felix  of  Cantalicia,  and 
others ;  never  of  St.  Dominick,  nor,  that  I  remember, 
of  St.  Clara.  They  strike  me  sometimes  as  very  pa- 
thetic. 

The  Standard  with  the  Cross  is  the  general  sym- 
bol of  Christianity  triumphant,  and  is  given  to  the  ear- 
ly preachers  and  missionaries.  But  it  is  also  given  to 
the  royal  and  warrior  saints  connected  with  the  differ- 
ent Orders,  as  St.  Oswald,  St.  Wenceslaus,  St.  Henry, 
St.  Leopold. 

The  Flaming  Heart  is  the  rather  vulgar  and  com- 
monplace emblem  of  Divine  love.  I  h|ive  never  met 
with  it  in  any  of  the  very  early  pictures,  except  those 
of  St.  Augustine.  The  heart  crowned  with  thorns  is 
given  to  St.  Francis  de  Sales ;  impressed  with  the 
name  of  Christ,  the  I  H  S,  it  is  given  to  the  Jesuit 
saints,  to  St.  Theresa,  to  St.  Bridget  of  Sweden,  and  to 
St.  Maria  Maddalena  de'  Pazzi.  It  has  a  particular 
meaning  in  the  legend  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena. 

The  Crown  op  Thorns,  placed  on  the  head  or  in 
the  hand  of  a  saint,  is  a  modem  emblem,  and  expresses 
sufiering  for  Christ's  sake.  It  has  a  more  special  mean- 
ing in  the  pictures  of  St.  Francis,  who  is  considered  by 
his  followers  as  a  type  of  the  Redeemer ;  and  also  in 
the  legends  of  St.  Louis  of  France,  of  St.  Catherine 
of  Siena,  and  St.  Hosa  di  Lima. 


INTRODUCTION,  23 

The  Palm,  as  the  meed  of  martyrdom,  is  proper 
to  a  few  only  of  the  monastic  saints.  St  Placidas, 
the  disciple  of  St.  Benedict,  is  the  earliest  monastic 
martyr ;  St.  Boniface  and  St.  Thomas  It  Becket  were 
also  Benedictines.  St.  Albert  and  St.  Angclo  were 
Carmelites,  and  St.  Peter  Martyr  a  Dominican ;  — 
these,  I  believe,  are  the  only  monkish  martyrs  who  are 
conspicnoos  and  individualized  in  works  of  art.  The 
only  nun-martyr  is  St.  Flavia,  the  sister  of  St.  Placi- 
dus. 

We  find,  also,  pictures  and  prints  commemorating 
the  five  Franciscans  martyred  at  Morocco ;  a  long  pro- 
cession of  about  a  hundred  Dominican  martyr-mission- 
aries ;  and  the  Jesuit  Martyrs  of  Japan :  but  they  are 
not  individually  named,  nor  have  they,  I  believe,  been 
r^ularly  canonized. 

But  the  palm  is  also  occasionally  given  to  several 
saints  who  have  not  suffered  a  violent  death,  but  have 
been  conspicuous  for  their  victory  over  pain  and  temp- 
tation ;  for  instance,  to  St  Francis  and  St  Catherine 
of  Siena. 

The  Lamb,  as  an  attribute,  is  proper  to  St.  Francis, 
both  as  the  symbol  of  meekness  and  with  an  especial 
meaning  for  which  I  must  refer  to  the  legend. 

The  Fish,  the  ancient  Christian  symbol  of  baptism, 
is  proper  to  some  of  the  old  missionaries  and  primitive 
bishops  who  converted  the  heathen ;  but  the  original 
meaning  being  lost  or  forgotten,  a  legend  has  been  in- 
vented by  way  of  interpretation,  as  in  the  stories  of  St 
Uirich  of  Augsburg  and  St.  Benno  of  Meissen. 

The  Crown,  placed  near  the  saint,  or  at  his  feet, 
signifies  that  he  was  of  royal  birth,  or  had  resigned  a 
kingdom  to  enter  a  monastery.  Those  royal  saints 
who  retained  the  sovereign  power  till  their  death  wear 
the  crown  ;  and  the  sainted  queens  and  princesses  fire- 
quently  wear  the  diadem  over  the  veil. 

A  Seraph  is  sometimes  introduced  as  an  ornament, 
sir  hovering  near,  to  distinguish  the  saints  of  the  Se- 
raphic Order ;  as  in  a  figure  of  St.  Bonaventura. 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

The  Stigmata,  the  wounds  of  Christ  impressed  on 
the  liands,  feet,  and  side,  are,  as  an  attribute,  proper  to 
St.  Francis  and  St.  Catherine  of  Siena;  improperly 
given  also  to  St.  Maria  Maddalena  de'  Pazzi,  and  re- 
lated of  several  other  saints  whom  I  have  not  met  with 
in  pictures. 

A  Sun  on  the  breast  expresses  the  light  of  Wisdom, 
in  figures  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas.  It  is  carried  in  the 
hand  of  St.  Bernardino  of  Siena  in  the  form  of  a  tablet, 
and  within  the  radiant  circle  are  the  letters  I  H  S. 
This  is  the  proper  attribute  of  that  fiunous  Franciscan, 
and  is  explained  in  his  legend.  The  Mtrnte  de  Piete  is 
given  to  him  in  some  pictures,  as  in  the  small  Francis- 
can predella,  attributed  to  Raphael,  in  Lord  Ward's 
collection  ;  but  it  is,  I  am  assured  by  a  high  authority, 
the  proper  attribute  of  Fra  Bernardino  da  Feltre  (who 
was  never  canonized),  and  given  by  mistake  to  St.  Ber- 
nardino of  Siena. 

The  Star,  over  the  head  or  on  the  breast,  is  given 
to  St.  Dominick  (black  and  white  habit),  and  St.  Nicho- 
las of  Tolentino  (black  habit) ;  and  seems  to  express  a 
divine  attestation  of  peculiar  sanctity,  the  idea  being  bor- 
rowed from  the  star  in  the  East.  The  five  stars  given 
to  St.  John  Nepomuck  have  a  special  significance, 
which  is  explained  by  his  story. 

A  Book  in  the  hand  of  a  saint  is,  in  a  general  way, 
the  Scriptures  or  the  Gospel.  It  is  given  in  this  sense 
to  preachers  and  missionaries.  It  has,  however,  a  spe- 
cial meaning  in  pictures  of  St.  Boniface.  Books  in  the 
hand  or  at  the  feet  of  St.  Bernard,  St.  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas, Cardinal  Bonaventura,  St.  Theresa,  accompanied 
by  the  pen  or  inkhom,  express  the  character  of  author 
or  writer,  and  the  books  are  often  lettered  with  the 
titles  of  their  works. 

The  Dove,  as  the  Scriptural  emblem  of  the  Holy 

•  Spirit,  and  expressing  direct  inspiration,  is  also  given 

as  an  attribute  to  the  same  saints ;  but  in  the  effigies 

of  St.  Scholastica,  the  sister  of  St.  Benedict,  it  has  a 

special  meaning. 


INTRODUCTION, 


»5 


The  Open  Book,  in  the  hands  of  a  founder,  often  in- 
dicates the  written  mle  of  the  Order,  and  sometimes  the 
first  words  of  the  rule  are  inscribed  on  the  page. 

The  ScouROB  indicates  self-inflicted  penance,  and  is 
given  in  this  sense  to  St.  Dominick  (who  was  famous 
for  scourging  himself),  and  St.  Margaret  of  Cortona. 

Walking  over  the  Sea  or  over  rivers  is  a  miracle 
attributed  to  so  many  saints,  that  it  becomes  necessary 
to  distinguish  them.  St.  Raymond  the  Dominican, 
and  St.  Francis  de  Paula  the  Capuchin,  cross  the  sea 
on  a  cloak.  St.  Peter  of  Alcantara,  a  Franciscan, 
walks  over  the  water.  St.  Hyacinth,  the  Dominican, 
walks  over  the  river  Dniester  when  swollen  to  a  torrent, 
and  is  always  distinguished  by  the  image  of  the  Vir- 
gin in  his  hand.  St.  Sebald,  in  a  German  print,  crosses 
the  Danube  on  his  cloak.  In  devotional  figures  of 
these  saints  the  miracle  is  often  represented  as  an  attri- 
bute in  the  background. 

Roses  are  sometimes  an  allusion  to  the  name  of  the 
saint;  St.  Rosalia  of  Palermo,  St.  Rosa  di  Yiterbo 
(Franciscan),  St.  Rosa  di  Lima  (Dominican),  all  wear 
the  crown  of  roses,  or  it  is  presented  by  an  angel.  But 
roses  in  the  lap  oi:  the  hand  of  St.  Elizabeth  are  an  at- 
tribute taken  from  her  beautiftil  legend. 

The  Cardinal's  Hat  is  proper  to  St.  Bonaventura, 
and  he  is  the  only  monkish  saint  to  whom  it  belongs ; 
he  is  distinguished  from  St.  Jerome,  the  other  Cardinal- 
saint,  by  the  Franciscan  girdle,  and  the  absence  of  the 
long  beard.* 

The  Mitre  and  Pastoral  Staff  are  borne  by 
abbots  as  well  as  bishops :  the  pastoral  staff  only,  with- 
out the  mitre,  by  abbesses. 

Slaves,  with  then:  chains  broken,  Beooars,  Chil- 

*  In  the  German  **  Ohristliche  Ikonographie,**  and  other  books 
of  the  kind,  the  cardinal's  hat  is  mentioned  as  an  attribute  of  St. . 
Francis  Borgia,  the  Jesuit.  He  was  not  a  cardinal :  if  the  cardi- 
nal's hat  be  introduced  into  his  effigies  (of  which  I  do  not  remem- 
ber an  instance),  it  must  signify  that  he  rejected  that  dignity  when 
offered  to  him. 


a6  INTRODUCTION. 

DREN,  Lepers,  at  the  feet  of  a  saint,  express  his  benefi- 
cence ;  and  in  the  ancient  devotional  figures  these  are 
sometimes  of  diminutive  size,  showing  that  thej  are 
merely  emblems  to  signify  charity,  and  not  any  par- 
ticular act  of  charity. 

Other  attributes  in  use  in  the  monastic  representa- 
tions, and  peculiar  to  certain  saints  (as  the  kneeling 
mule  in  pictures  of  St.  Antony  of  Padua),  will  be  ex- 
plained in  their  respective  legends.* 

To  understand  and  to  sympathize  with  the  impor- 
tance attached  to  almsgiving,  and  the  prominence  given 
to  this  particular  aspect  of  charity  in  the  old  pictures, 
we  must  recall  a  social  condition  very  difierent  firom  our 
own  :  a  period  when  there  were  no  poor-laws ;  when 
the  laws  for  the  protection  of  the  lower  classes  were  im- 
perfect and  perpetually  violated ;  when  for  the  wretched 
there  was  absolutely  no  resource  but  in  private  benefi- 
cence. In  those  days  a  man  began  his  religious  voca- 
tion by  a  literal  and  practical  application  of  the  text  in 
Scripture,  <<  Sell  all  thou  hast,  and  distribute  to  the 
j)Oor."  The  laws  against  debtors  were  then  very  se- 
vere, and  the  proximity  of  the  Moors  on  one  side,  and 
the  Turks  on  the  other,  rendered  slavery  a  familiar 
thing.  In  all  the  maiitime  and  commercial  cities  of 
Italy  and  Spain,  brotherhoods  existed  for  the  manu- 
inission  of  slaves  and  debtors.  Charitable  confraterni- 
ties performed  then,  and  in  Italy  perform  now,  many 
duties  left  to  our  police,  or  which  we  think  we  fulfil  in 
paying  our  poor-rates.  These  duties  of  charity  shine 
ill  the  monastic  pictures,  and  were  conspicuous  on  the 
walls  of  churches,  I  am  persuaded  to  good  purpose. 
Among  the  most  interesting  of  the  canonized  saints 
whose  stories  I  have  related  in  reference  to  Art,  are  the 
founders  of  the  charitable  brotherhoods  ;  and  among 

*  A  very  useftil  book,  as  a  companion  to  churches  and  picture- 
galleries,  is  the  little  manual,  "  £mblems  of  Saints,"  compiled  by 
the  Rev.  F.  G.  Husenbeth. 


INTRODUCTION,  27 

the  most  beautiful  and  celebrated  pictures,  were  those 
painted  for  these  communities;  for  instance,  for  the 
Misericordia  in  Italy,  the  various  Scuole  at  Venice,*  the 
Merced  and  the  Caritad  in  Spain,  and  for  the  numerous 
hospitals  for  the  sick,  the  houseless  travellers,  the  poor, 
and  the  penitent  women  (Donne  Convertite).  All  these 
institutions  were  adorned  with  pictures,  and  in  the  orsr 
tories  and  chapels  appended  to  them  the  altar-piece  gener- 
ally set  forth  some  beneficent  saint,  —  St.  Roch,  or  St. 
Charles  Borromeo,  the  patrons  of  the  plague-stricken ; 
or  St.  Cosmo  and  St.  Damian,  the  saintly  apothecaries ; 
or  St.  Leonard,  the  protector  of  captives  and  debtors ; 
or  that  friend  of  the  wretched,  St.  Juan  de  Dios,  or  the 
benign  St.  Elizabeth; — either  standing  before  us  as 
objects  of  devout  reverence,  or  kneeling  at  the  feet  of 
the  Madonna  and  her  Son,  and  commending  to  the 
Divine  mercy  *<all  such  as  are  any  ways  afflicted  in 
mind,  body,  or  estate.'' 

The  pictures,  too,  which  were  suspended  in  churches 
as  votive  memorials  of  benefits  received,  are  often  very 
touching.  I  recollect  such  a  picture  in  the  Gallery  at 
Vienna.  A  youth  about  fifteen,  in  the  character  of 
Tobias,  is  led  by  the  hand  of  his  guardian  angel  Ea- 
phael ;  and  on  the  other  side  is  St.  Leonard,  the  patron 
of  captives,  holding  his  broken  fetters  :  Christ  the  Re- 
deemer appears  above ;  and  below,  in  a  comer,  kneels 
an  elderly  man,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  youth.  The 
arrangement  of  this  group  leaves  us  no  doubt  of  its 
purpose ;  it  was  the  votive  offering  of  a  father  whose 
son  had  escaped,  or  had  been  redeemed,  from  captivity. 
The  picture  is  very  beautiful,  and  either  by  Andrea  del 
Sarto  or  one  of  his  school.f  If  we  could  discover 
where  it  had  been  originally  placed,  we  might  discover 

*  For  some  account  of  Che  objects  of  these  ScuoU,  see  "  Sacred 
and  Legendary  ArL'' 

t  The  two  figures  of  St.  Raphael  and  Tobias,  without  the  others, 
are  in  a  small  picture  in  the  Pitti  Palace  :  the  peculiar  dress  and 
phyBiognomy  of  the  youth  give  to  the  picture  the  look  of  a  poP' 
trait  *,  the  reason  of  this  is  understood  in  the  complete  group. 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

the  facts  and  the  personages  to  which  it  alludes ;  but 
even  on  the  walls  of  a  palleiy  wo  recognize  its  pathetic 
significance :  we  read  it  as  a  poem,  —  as  a  hymn  of 
thanksgiving. 

When  wo  consider  the  deep  interest  which  is  attached 
to  pictures  and  other  works  of  art  in  their  connection 
with  history  and  character,  we  have  reason  to  regret 
that  in  the  catalogues  of  galleries  and  collections  the 
name  of  the  church,  chapel,  or  confraternity  whence  the 
picture  was  purchased,  or  where  it  was  originally  placed, 
has  l>een  so  seldom  mentioned.  The  locality  for  which 
a  picture  was  painted  will  often  determine  the  names 
of  the  personages  introduced,  and  show  us  why  they 
were  introduced,  and  why  they  held  this  or  that  position 
relatively  to  each  other.  A  saint  who  is  the  subordinate 
figure  in  one  place,  is  the  superior  figure  in  another ; 
and  there  was  always  a  reason,  a  meaning,  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  a  group,  even  when  it  appears,  at  first 
sight,  most  capricious  and  unaccountable.  What  a 
lively,  living,  really  religious  interest  is  given  to  one  of 
these  sacred  groups  when  we  know  the  locality  or  the 
community  for  which  it  was  executed,  and  how  it  be- 
comes enriched  as  a  production  of  mind  when  it  speaks 
to  the  mind  through  a  thousand  associations,  will  be 
felt,  I  think,  after  reading  the  legends  which  follow. 


IV. 

Those  who  have  thought  on  works  of  art  with  this 
reference  to  their  meaning  and  intention  should  be  able, 
on  looking  round  a  church  or  any  other  religious  edi- 
fice, to  decide  at  once  to  what  community  it  belongs, 
and  to  understand  the  relation  which  the  pictures  bear 
to  each  other  and  to  the  locality  in  which  they  are 
placed.  This  is  a  very  interesting  point,  and  leads  me 
to  say  a  few  words  of  some  of  the  most  important  of 
these  edifices  and  the  memorials  of  art  and  artists  which 
they  contain. 


INTRODUCTION,  29 

There  is  a  Latin  distich  which  well  expresses  the 
difierent  localities  and  sites  affected  by  the  chief  Monas- 
tic Orders,  — 

Beraardus  ralles,  oolles  Benedictus  amabat, 
Oppida  Franciacufl,  magnaa  Ignatius  urbes ; 

and  we  shall  find  almost  nniformlj  the  chief  foundations 
of  the  Benedictines  on  hills  or  mountains,  those  of  the 
Cistercians  in  fertile  valleys  by  running  streams,  those 
of  the  Franciscans  in  provincial  towns,  and  those  of  the 
Jesuits  in  capital  cities. 

To  begin  with  the  Benedictines ;  the  Order  produced 
the  earliest  painters  and  architects  in  Europe,  and  their 
monasteries  and  churches  are  among  the  earliest  and 
most  important  monuments  of  Art  in  our  own  and 
other  countries.  The  term  Abbey  applies  particularly 
to  the  foundations  of  this  Order. 

In  looking  round  one  of  the  Benedictine  edifices,  we 
shall  find,  of  course,  St.  Benedict  as  patriarch,  his  sister 
St.  Scholastica,  and  the  other  principal  saints  of  his 
Order  enumerated  in  the  introduction  to  his  legend. 
We  shall  also  find  the  apostle  Paul  firequently  and  con- 
spicuously introduced  into  pictures  painted  for  this 
community.  He  is  their  patron-saint  and  protector, 
and  their  rule  was  framed  in  accordance  with  his  pre- 
cepts. 

The  parent  monastery  of  Monte  Cassino  was  founded 
by  St.  Benedict  on  the  spot  where  stood  a  temple  of 
Apollo.  The  grand  masses  of  the  conventual  buildings 
now  crown  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  rising  above  the 
town  of  San  Germano ;  the  river  Rapido,  called,  farther 
on,  the  Garigiiano,  fiows  through  the  vcdley  at  its  base. 
The  Hospice,  or  house  for  the  reception  and  entertain- 
ment of  strangers  and  travellers,  stands  lower  down. 
The  splendid  church  and  cloisters  are  filled  with  works 
of  art,  —  the  series  of  statues  in  marble  of  the  most 
illustrious  members  and  benefactors  of  the  community 
being  perhaps  the  most  remarkable ;  but  the  monastery 


y> 


INTRODUCTION. 


hsTing  been  restored,  almost  rebuilt,  in  the  feventeenth 
centorr,  most  of  the  pictures  belong  to  the  modern 
schools. 

More  interesting  for  the  antiquity  of  its  decorations 
is  Subiaco,  formerly  the  mountain  cave  in  which  St. 
Benedict,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  hid  himself  from  the 
world.  The  Socro  Speeo,  or  sacred  cavern,  is  now  a 
church ;  the  natural  rocks  forming  the  walls  in  some 
parts,  are  covered  with  ancient  frescos,  the  works  of 
Concioli,  painted  in  1219,  before  the  time  of  Cimabne, 
and  most  important  in  the  history  of  early  Italian  Art 
About  a  mile  from  the  Sacro  Speco  is  the  monastery  of 
Santa  Scholastica,  once  fomous  for  its  library,  and  still 
interesting  as  the  spot  where  the  first  printing-press  in 
Italy  was  set  up ;  —  as  the  first  printing-press  in  Eng- 
land was  worked  in  the  cloisters  of  the  Benedictine  Ab- 
bey of  Westminster. 

San  Faolo-fuor-le-Mure  at  Rome  belongs  to  the 
Benedictines. 

For  the  San  Severino  at  Naples,  Antonio  lo  Zingaro 
painted  the  series  of  pictures  of  the  life  of  St.  Benedict 
which  I  have  described  further  on. 

For  the  Benedictine  convent  of  San  Sisto,  at  Pia- 
cenza,  Kaphael  painted  his  Madonna  di  San  Sisto,  now 
at  Dresden.  The  monks  have  been  sorely  chidden  for 
parting  with  their  unequalled  treasure ;  but  that  they 
knew  how  to  value  it  is  proved  by  the  price  they  set  on 
it,  60,000  florins  (about  6,500/.  English  money),  proba- 
bly the  largest  sum  which  up  to  that  time  had  ever  been 
given  for  a  single  picture,  and  which,  be  it  observed, 
was  paid  by  a  petty  German  prince,  Augustus,  Elector 
of  Saxony.  With  this  sum  the  Benedictines  repaired 
their  church  and  convent,  which  were  falling  into  ruin. 

For  the  monks  of  Grotta  Ferrata,  Domenichino 
painted  the  life  of  San  Nilo.  The  cloisters  of  San  Mi- 
chele  in  Bosco  were  painted  by  all  the  best  painters  of 
the  later  Bologna  school  (Ludovico  Carracci  and  his 
pupils)  in  emulation  of  each  other.  These  once  admi- 
rable and  celebrated  frescos,  executed  between  1600  and 


INTRODUCTION.  51 

1630,  are  now  more  rained  than  the  frescos  at  Subiaco, 
painted  foar  centuries  earlier. 

The  San  Giustina  at  Padua  is  one  of  the  oldest  and 
most  celebrated  of  the  Benedictine  foundations.  The 
church  having  been  rebuilt  between  1502  and  1549  by 
contributions  collected  throughout  Europe  by  the  monks 
of  the  community,  all  the  best  artists,  from  1550  to 
1640,  were  employed  in  its  decorations.  Much  more 
valuable  than  any  of  these  late  works,  though  good  of 
their  kind  and  date,  are  the  paintings  in  the  old  clois- 
ters by  a  very  rare  and  admirable  master,  Bernardo 
Parentino,  who  died  in  the  habit  of  an  Augustine  friar 
about  1500. 

In  France  the  most  celebrated  of  the  Benedictine 
houses  were  the  abbeys  of  St.  Maur,  Marmoutier,  and 
Fontevrauld,  all  ruined  or  desecrated  during  the  first 
French  Revolution,  and  their  splendid  libraries  and 
works  of  art  destroyed  or  dispersed. 

In  Germany  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  Benedictine 
communities  was  that  of  Bamberg. 

With  regard  to  the  Reformed  Benedictines,  the  mon- 
asteries of  Yallombrosa  and  Camaldoli  in  Tuscany  pro- 
duced some  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  early  mo- 
nastic artists.  The  pictures  in  our  National  Grallery  by 
Taddeo  Gaddi  were  painted  for  the  Camaldolesi.  Pe- 
mgino  painted  for  the  Vallombrosians  the  grandest  of 
his  altar-pieces,  the  Assumption  now  in  the  Florence 
Academy  with  the  saints  of  Yallombrosa  ranged  below. 
Ghirlandajo  and  Andrea  del  Sarto  painted  for  these 
Orders  some  of  their  finest  works,  —  for  instance,  the 
frescos  of  the  Sassetti  Chapel  in  the  Trinity,  and  the 
Cenacolo  in  the  San  Salvi. 

Of  the  Carthusian  monasteries,  the  parent  institution 
is  the  Chartreuse  at  Grenoble.  The  Certosa  di  Pavia 
remains  unapproached  for  its  richness  and  beauty,  and  is 
filled  with  the  works  of  the  finest  of  the  Lombard  sculp- 
tors and  painters, —  Luini,  Borgognone,  Fossano,  So- 
lari,  Cristoforo  Homano,  Amadeo,  and  others  be^'ond 
number. 


INTRODUCTIOlf. 

The  CerloM  at  Roma,  bailt  bj  KGdiwl  Angelo  oM 
of  llie  rnio)  of  Iho  Batlu  of  DiocletUn,  is  filled  with 
pirmm  liir  tha  l&lcr  nrtinU.  Zurbsran  sod  Carducho 
painted  for  tlio  Canhn^iana  of  SpniQ  ;  uid  Le  Sarur 
painted  for  iljo  Carthusiuii  of  Peru  bis  finest  work, — 
llio  lifB  of  St.  Bruno,  now  ia  tbe  Louvre. 

In  the  tliurchos  and  nblieya  of  the  Cislerdana  we 
aball  geDerolly  Had  St.  Bernard  a  promincsm  figure,  and 
Ehe  companion  of  the  purUrcb  St.  Benedict.  In  con- 
(oqiteoce  of  his  particular  deTolion  to  the  Virgin,  the 
CiBlercian  churches  arc  generally  dedicated  in  Iter  name ; 
•nd  St.  Bernard  visited  by  the  Vir^n,  or  presentiiig  bis 
books  to  her,  are  fnvorilo  subjects. 

In  oar  own  country,  tlie  cittliedrals  of  Canlerliurj, 
Westntinster,  WiQcbestpr,  Borhani,  Ely,  Futerbonnigb, 
Bath,  Gloucester,  Cheater,  Kocheeter,  were  Benedictine. 
St.  Albans,  which  look  precedence  of  all  the  others, 
Croyland,  Glastonbary,  Malmsbary,  Malvem,  Tewkes- 
bury, aod  hundreds  of  othert,  lie  in  mins,  except  that 
here  and  there  the  bcautifai  abbey-clmichcs  bava  been 
Gu^rcd  to  remain,  and  have  become  pariah  churches. 

Tlio  Olivetans,  a  congregation  of  Hcfotincd  Benedic- 
tines, produced  some  celebrated  anials.  Laozi  men- 
tions  three  lay-brothen  of  tbie  Order,  all  of  Verona, 
who  excelled  in  the  beautiful  inlaid  work  called  Torsia 
or  Inlariiatura.  The  monastery  at  Moiiie  Oliveto  near 
Siena,  the  beanliful  Church  of  San  Lorenzo  at  Cremona, 
and  S.  Maria  in  Organo  at  Verooa,  belong  to  this  Older. 

In  the  churches  of  the  Auguetines  wa  sliall  generally 
find  St.  Aagastine  and  his  mother,  Monica,  as  princi- 
pal peieoni^ts.  The  Apostles,  and  sloriea  Irom  their 
Uvea  and  ministry  ;  St.  Joseph  the  hnaband,  and  Joa- 
chim and  Anna  the  pni'ents,  of  tbu  Virgin,  are  also  I'on- 
spicuoite ;  and  tlie  eainta,  martyrs,  and  bishops  of  the 
earliest  ages,  as  St.  Sebaatian,  St.  Nicholss,  St,  Lau- 
rence, St.  Mary  Magdalene,  though  common  to  all  the 
Orders,  figure  especially  in  their  pictnros.  In  tlic  con- 
vents of  the  Augustine  Herraiu  we  freijuentlj-  find  tiie 


J 


INTRODUCTION,  33 

pattern  and  primitive  Hermits,  St.  Anthony  and  St. 
Paul,  and  others  whose  legends  are  given  in  the  first  se- 
ries of  this  work.  The  principal  saints  who  belonged 
to  the  different  branches  of  this  great  Order,  many  of 
tiiem  canonized  for  their  charities,  of  coarse  find  a  place 
in  their  churches ;  as  St.  Thomas  of  Yillanueva,  St. 
Lorenzo  Giostiniani :  but  their  great  saint  is  St.  Nicho- 
las of  Tolendno. 

The  churches  of  the  Agostini  in  Italy  most  remark- 
able for  works  of  art  are,  — the  Sant'  Agostino  at  Rome, 
for  which  Kaphael  painted  his  prophet  Isaiah ;  the  Sant' 
Agostino  at  Pavia,  which  contains  the  shrine  of  the 
patron  saint,  marvellous  for  its  beauty,  and  peopled  with 
exquisite  statuettes ;  the  Eremitani  at  Padua,  and  the 
San  Lorenzo  at  Florence,  both  rich  in  early  works  of 
art.  Churches  dedicated  to  St.  Laurence,  St.  Sebas- 
tian, St.  Mary  Magdalene,  St.  Antonio  Abbate,  gener- 
ally belong  to  the  Augustines. 

Most  of  the  great  cathedral  churches  along  the  Rhine 
—  Cologne,  Mayence,  Strasburg  —  belonged  to  this 
Order ;  in  our  own  country,  the  cathedrals  of  Oxford, 
Lincoln,  Salisbury,  Lichfield,  Carlisle,  Hereford ;  and 
York  Minster  and  Beverley  Minster,  though  founded  by 
the  Benedictines,  afterwards  belonged  to  the  Augus- 
tines. 

The  most  celebrated  edifices  of  the  Franciscans  are, 
first,  the  parent  convent  and  church  at  Assisi,  in  the 
decoration  of  which  the  greatest  artists  of  Italy,  for  a 
space  of  three  hundred  years,  were  successively  em- 
ployed. 

Some  of  the  finest  pictures  of  the  Perugino  school 
were  executed  for  this  Order.  Raphael  painted  his 
Madonna  di  Foligno  for  the  Ara-Celi  at  Rome.  In  the 
same  church  Pinturicchio  painted  the  chapel  of  St.  Ber- 
nardino. The  Santa-Croce  at  Florence  is  a  treasury 
of  early  Florentine  Art,  —  of  the  frescos  of  Giotto,  Tad- 
deo  and  Angelo  Gaddi,  and  Giottino,  and  the  sculptures 
of  Luca  della  Robbia  and  Benedetto  da  Maiano.     Ti- 


34 


INTRODUCTION. 


tian  rests  in  the  Frari  at  Venice  ;  but  round  this  noble 
church  I  looked  in  vain  for  any  pictures  especially  com- 
memorating the  Franciscan  worthies. 

The  3t.  Antonio-di-Fadova  is  rich  with  most  precious 
monuments  of  art,  with  the  bronzes  of  Donatello  and 
Andrea  Riccio ;  the  marbles  of  the  Lombardi,  Sanso- 
yino,  Sammichele  ;  and  pictures  and  frescos  of  all  the 
great  painters  of  Upper  Italy,  from  the  earliest  Faduan 
masters,  Avanzi,  Zevio,  and  Andrea  Mantegna,  down 
to  Campagnola. 

When  Murillo  returned  from  Madrid  to  his  native 
Seville,  poor  and  unknown,  the  Franciscans  were  the 
first  to  patronize  him.  They  had  resolved  to  devote  a 
sum  of  money,  which  had  been  collected  by  one  of  the 
begging  brothers,  upon  a  series  of  pictures  for  their 
small  cloister ;  for  the  eleven  pictures  required,  they 
could  give  only  the  sum  in  their  possession,  —  a  trifling 
remuneration  for  an  artist  of  established  name;  but 
Murillo  was  glad  to  undertake  the  commission,  and 
thus  laid  the  foundation  of  his  future  fame.  He  after- 
wards, when  at  the  height  of  his  reputation,  painted  for 
another  Franciscan  community  (the  Capuchins  of  Se- 
ville) twenty  of  his  finest  pictures. 

The  Dominicans  have  a  splendid  reputation  as  ar- 
tists and  patrons  of  art.  The  principal  church  of  the 
Order  is  tiie  San  Doraenico  at  Bologna,  in  which  is  the 
shrine  of  the  patriarch.  The  Dominicans  employed 
Niccolo  Pisano  to  build  their  church  as  well  as  to  ex- 
ecute this  wonderful  shrine.  The  church  has,  however, 
been  rebuilt  in  a  modem  style,  and  is  now  chiefly  re- 
markable for  the  works  of  the  Caracci  school. 

The  most  interesting,  the  most  important,  and  the 
largest  of  all  the  Dominican  edifices,  is  the  Santa  Ma- 
ria-sopra-Minerva,  at  Rome.  Here  sleeps  that  gentlest 
of  painters,  Angelico  da  Fiesole,  among  the  brethren 
of  his  Order.  Around  him  are  commemorated  a  host 
of  popes  and  cardinals  :  among  them  Leo  X.,  Cardinal 
Howard,  Cardinal  Bembo,  and  Durandus.     The  whole 


INTRODUCTION,  35 

church  is  filled  with  most  interesting  pictures  and  me' 
morials  of  the  Dominican  saints  and  worthies,  partica- 
larlj  the  chapels  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  and  St.  Cath- 
erine of  Siena.  To  the  right  of  the  choir  stands  Mi- 
chael Angelo's  statue  of  Our  Saviour. 

Not  less  interesting  is  the  principal  church  of  the 
Dominicans  at  Florence,  the  Santa  Maria  Novella.  In 
this  church  is  the  famous  chapel  Dei  Spagnuoli,  painted 
by  Taddeo  Gaddi  and  Simone  Memmi ;  and  the  chapel 
of  the  Strozzi,  painted  by  Andrea  Orcagna.  In  the 
cloisters  is  a  series  of  fif^-six  pictures  of  the  lives  of 
Dominican  saints,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  San  Pietro 
Martire,  St.  Vincent  Ferrier,  and  others,  painted  by 
Santi  di  Tito  and  CigoU.  In  this  church  is  preserved 
the  Virgin  and  Child  by  Cimabue,  which  excited  such 
admiration  at  the  time  and  such  delight  and  wonder 
among  the  people,  that  the  quarter  of  the  town  through 
which  it  was  carried  to  its  destination  was  styled  for 
ages  afterwards,  and  is  even  to  this  day,  the  Borgo 
AUegri. 

In  the  same  city  is  the  convent  of  St.  Mark,  where 
Angelioo  and  Fra  Bartolomeo  lived  and  worked  and 
have  left  some  of  their  finest  productions. 

In  the  San  Domenico  at  Siena  are  some  of  the  finest 
productions  of  that  remarkable  school  of  art,  —  the  fa- 
mous Madonna  by  Guido  da  Siena  which  preceded 
that  of  Cimabue,  and  the  admirable  frescos  by  Razzi. 

The  churches  of  San  Sabino  and  San  Giovanni-e- 
Paolo  at  Rome,  and  the  San  Giovanni-e-Paolo  at  Venice, 
belong  to  this  Order.  For  the  last-named  church  Titian 
painted  his  San  Pietro  Martire. 

For  the  Dominicans  of  S.  Maria  Alle  Grazie  at 
Milan,  Leonard!  da  Vinci  painted  his  Last  Supper. 
Other  interesting  churches  of  this  Order  are  Sant'  Eus- 
torgio  at  Milan,  Sant*  Anastasia  at  Verona,  and  Santa 
Catarina  at  Pisa. 

It  18  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  churches  built  by  the 
Dominicans  generally  consist  of  a  nave  only,  without 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

aisles,  that  when  preaching  to  the  people,  their  chief 
vocation,  they  might  be  heard  from  every  part  of  the 
church.  This  form  of  their  churches  showed  off  their 
pictures  to  great  advantage.* 

Among  the  churches  of  the  Carmelites,  I  may  men- 
tion as  the  most  interesting  the  Carmini  at  Florence, 
in  which  Masaccio,  Masolino,  and  Filippino  Lippi 
painted,  in  emulation  of  each  other,  the  frescos  of  the 
Brancacci  Chapel,  the  most  important  works  of  the 
fifteenth  century. 

In  this  convent  worked  that  dissolute  but  accom- 
plished friar,  Fra  Filippo  Lippi. 

I  must  say  one  word  of  the  Jeronymites,  who  are 
scarcely  alluded  to  in  the  succeeding  pages  because  I 
do  not  find  one  of  their  Order  who,  as  a  canonized 
saint,  has  been  a  subject  of  Art.  They  claim  as  their 
patriarch  St.  Jerome,  whose  effigy,  with  the  stories 
from  his  life,  is  always  conspicuous  in  their  churches. 
Stories  of  the  Nativity  and  of  Bethlehem  (where  St. 
Jerome  planted  his  first  monastery),  and  of  a  certain 
holy  bishop  of  Lyons,  St.  Just  (San  Giusto),  who  left 
his  diocese  and  turned  hermit  in  the  deserts  of  Egypt 
about  the  end  of  the  fourth  century,  are  also  to  be 
found  there. 

The  Jeronymites  were  remarkable  for  the  splendor 
of  some  of  their  edifices :  in  Spain,  the  Escurial  bo- 
longed  to  them ;  the  Monastery  of  San  Just,  to  which 
Charles  V.  retired  after  his  abdication,  and  the  re- 
markable Monastery  of  Belem  (Bethlehem)  in  Portugal, 
also  belonged  to  them.  St.  Sigismond,  near  Cremona, 
is  perhaps  the  finest  in  Italy.  A  community  of  this 
Order,  the  Jesuati,  had  a  convent  near  Florence  (the 
San- Giusto,  now  suppressed),  in  which  the  friars  carried 
on  an  extensive  manufactory  of  painted  glass ;  and  it  is 
particularly  recorded  that  they  employed  Perugino  and 
p^her  artists  of  celebrity  to  make  designs,  and  that 

*  The  S.  Maria-sopra-Minerva,  at  Borne,  is  nn  exception. 


INTRODUCTION,  37 

Pemgino  learned  irom  them  the  art  of  preparing  colors. 
Yasari  has  given  us  a  most  picturesque  description  of 
this  convent,  of  the  industry  of  the  ftiars,  of  their  labo- 
ratories, their  furnaces,  and  their  distilleries ;  of  their 
beautiful,  well-ordered  garden,  where  they  cultivated 
herbs  for  medicinal  purposes ;  and  of  the  vines  trained 
round  their  cloisters.  This  abode  of  peace,  industry, 
and  science,  with  its  gardens  and  beautiful  frescos,  was 
utterly  destroyed  by  the  Imperialist  army  in  1529. 

The  Jesuits  employed  Kubens  and  Vandyck  to  deco- 
rate their  splendid  church  at  Antwerp.  The  best  pic- 
tures painted  for  this  Order  were  by  the  late  Flemish 
and  Spanish  artists. 

Though  the  religious  communities  of  Spain  were 
most  generous  patrons  of  Art,  and  though  some  of  the 
very  finest  pictures  of  the  Valencian  and  Seville  schools 
were  those  which  commemorated  the  monastic  saints ; 
yet  these  subjects,  considered  as  sacred  Art,  do  not  ap- 
pear to  advantage  in  the  Spanish  pictures,  for  it  was  the 
monachism  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  Spanish 
painters  rendered  it  from  the  life.  In  the  representation 
of  Spanish  inars,  Zurbaran  perhaps  excelled  all  others : 
his  cowled  Carthusians,  with  dark,  deep-set  eyes  and  thin 
lips,  his  haggard  Franciscans,  his  missionary  fathers 
and  Inquisitors,  convey  the  strongest  idea  of  physical 
self-denial  and  the  consciousness  of  spiritual  power. 
Murillo,  Juanes,  and  Alonzo  Cano  frequently  give  us 
vulgar  heads,  sublimated  through  the  intense  truth  of 
expression ;  but,  on  the  whole,  we  should  seek  in  vain 
in  the  Spanish  monastic  pictures  for  the  refined  and 
contemplative  grace  and  intellectual  elevation  of  the 
early  Italian  painters. 

Were  it  the  purpose  of  my  book  to  give  a  history  of 
Monastic  Art  and  Monastic  Artists,  I  should  have  to 
extend  these  compressed  notices  into  volumes;  but  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  I  have  undertaken  only  to 


38 


INTRODUCTION. 


describe  or  to  interpret  briefly  the  liyes  and  characters 
of  those  monastic  personages  who  were  subjects  of  Art, 
—  thence  subjects  of  thought  to  those  who  painted 
them,  and  sources  of  thought  to  those  who  behold 
them. 

I  cannot  better  conclude  than  in  the  appropriate 
words  of  an  old  monk,  Wilhelm  of  Bamberg,  who  lived 
about  eight  hundred  years  ago:  "I  offer  this  little 
work  as  long  as  I  live  to  the  correction  of  those  who 
are  more  learned  :  if  I  have  done  wrong  in  anything,  I 
shall  not  be  ashamed  to  receive  their  admonitions;  and 
if  there  be  anything  which  they  like,  I  shall  not  be  slow 
to  furnish  more." 


LEGENDS  OP  THE  MONASTIC  OEDEES. 


ST.  BENEDICT  AND  THE  EARLY  BENE- 
DICTINES IN  ITALY,  FRANCE,  SPAIN, 
AND  FLANDERS. 


A.  D.  529. 

IRST  in  point  of  time,  and  first  in  interest 
and  importance,  not  merely  in  the  history 
of  Art,  but  in  the  history  of  ciyilization, 
We  rank  the  Benedictine  Order  in  all  its 
branches. 

The  effigies  of  the  saintly  personages  of  this  renowned 
and  wide-spread  Order  occur  in  every  period,  and  every 
form,  and  every  school  of  art,  from  the  earliest  and 
rudest  to  the  latest  and  worst,  —  from  the  tenth  to 
the  eighteenth  century.  To  the  reflecting  mind  they 
are  surrounded  with  associations  of  the  highest  interest, 
and  are  suggestive  of  a  thousand  thoughts,  —  some 
painful  and  humiliating,  such  as  wait  on  all  the  institu- 
tions which  spring  out  of  the  temporary  conditions  of 
society  and  our  imperfect  human  nature  :  yet  predomi- 
nant over  these,  feelings  of  gratitude,  sympathy,  and 
admiration ;  if  not  in  all  cases  due  to  the  individual 
represented,  yet  belonging  of  right  to  that  religious 
community,  which  under  Providence  became  the  great 
instrument  of  civilization  in  modem  Europe. 


40     LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

I  have  alluded  in  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art  to  the 
origin  of  Eastern  monachism  in  the  life  of  St.  Antfaon  j. 
There  were  monks  in  the  West  from  the  days  of 
Jerome.  The  example  and  the  mles  of  the  OrieDtal 
anchorites  and  cenobites  had  spread  over  Greece,  Italy, 
and  even  into  Graul,  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries ; 
but  the  cause  of  Christianity,  instead  of  being  served, 
was  injured  by  the  gradual  depravation  of  men,  whoso 
objects,  at  the  best,  were,  if  I  may  so  use  the  word, 
spiritually  selfish,  leading  them  in  those  miserable  times 
to  work  out  their  own  safety  and  salvation  only ;  —  men 
who  for  the  most  part  were  ignorant,  abject,  often  im- 
moral, darkening  ihe  already  dark  superstitions  of  the 
people  by  their  gross  inventions  and  fanatic  absurdities. 
Sometimes  they  wandered  from  place  to  place,  levying 
contributions  on  the  villagers  by  displaying  pretended 
relics ;  sometimes  they  were  perched  in  a  hollow  tree  or 
on  the  top  of  a  column,  or  housed,  half  naked,  in  the 
recesses  of  a  rock,  where  they  were  fed  and  tended  by 
the  multitude,  with  whom  their  laziness,  their  contempt 
for  decency,  and  all  the  vagaries  of  a  crazed  and  heated 
fancy  passed  for  proofs  of  superior  sanctity.  Those 
who  were  gathered  into  communities,  lived  on  the  lands 
which  had  been  granted  to  them ;  and  belonging  neither 
to  the  people  nor  to  the  regular  clergy,  responsible  to 
no  external  law,  and  checked  by  no  internal  discipline, 
they  led  a  useless  and  idle,  often  a  miserable  and  per- 
verted, existence.  Such  is  the  picture  we  have  of 
monachism  up  to  the  end  of  the  fifth  century. 

Whether  Benedict,  in  collecting  out  of  such  materials 
the  purer  and  better  elements,  subjugating  such  spirits 
to  a  far  stricter  discipline,  and  supplying  what  was  defi- 
cient in  the  Oriental  monastic  rule,  —  namely,  the  obli- 
gation to  labor,  (not  merely  for  self-support,  but  as  one 
of  the  duties  towards  God  and  man,) — contemplated 
the  vast  results  which  were  to  arise  from  his  institution, 
may  well  be  doubted.  We  can  none  of  us  measure  the 
vonsequences  of  the  least  conscious  of  our  acts ;  nor  did 
Benedict,  probably,  while  legislating  for  a  few  monks, 


THE  EARLY  BENEDICTINES,  41 

anticipate  the  great  destinies  of  his  infant  Order.  Tet 
it  is  clear  that  his  views  were  not  bounded  by  any  nar- 
row ideas  of  expediency ;  and  that  while  he  could  not 
wholly  shake  from  his  mind  the  influences  of  the  age 
in  which  he  livedo  it  was  not  the  less  a  rarely  gifted 
mind,  large,  enlightened,  benevolent,  as  well  as  enthusi- 
astic ;  the  mind  of  a  legislator,  a  reformer,  and  a  sage, 
as  well  as  that  of  a  Christian  recluse. 

The  effigies  of  the  Benedictines  are  interesting  and 
suggestive  under  three  points  of  view :  — 

First,  as  the  early  missionaries  of  the  North  of  Eu- 
rope, who  carried  the  light  of  the  Gospel  into  those 
wUds  of  Britain,  Graul,  Saxony,  Belgium,  where  heathen- 
ism still  solemnized  impure  and  inhuman  rites ;  —  who 
with  the  Grospel  carried  also  peace  and  civilization,  and 
became  the  refuge  of  the  people,  of  the  serfs,  the  slaves, 
the  poor,  the  oppressed,  against  the  feudal  tyrants  and 
military  spoilers  of  those  barbarous  times. 

Secondly,  as  the  sole  depositaries  of  learning  and  the 
arts  through  several  centuries  of  ignorance ;  as  the  col- 
lectors and  transcribers  of  books,  when  a  copy  of  the 
Bible  was  worth  a  king's  ransom.  Before  the  invention 
of  printing  every  Benedictine  abbey  had  its  library  and 
its  Scriptoriumy  or  writing-chamber,  where  silent  monks 
were  employed  from  day  to  day,  from  month  to  month, 
in  making  transcripts  of  valuable  works,  particularly  of 
the  Scriptures :  these  were  either  sold  for  the  benefit  of 
the  convent,  or  bestowed  as  precious  gifts,  which  brought 
a  blessing  equally  to  those  who  gave  and  those  who  re- 
ceived. Not  only  do  we  owe  to  them  the  multiplication 
and  diflnsion  of  copies  of  the  Holy  Scriptures :  we  are 
indebted  to  them  for  the  preservation  of  many  classical 
remains  of  inestimable  value ;  for  instance,  of  the  whole 
or  the  greater  portion  of  the  works  of  Pliny,  Sallust, 
and  Cicero.  They  were  the  fathers  of  Grothic  archi- 
tecture ;  they  were  the  earliest  illuminators  and  limners ; 
and  to  crown  their  deservings  under  this  head,  the  inven- 
tor of  the  gamut,  and  the  first  who  instituted  a  school 
of  music,  was  a  Benedictine  monk,  Guido  d'  Arezzo. 


^ 


LEGENDS  OF  TUE  MONASTIC  OROERS.% 

Thirdly,  as  the  first  ^ricaltarisls  who  broag! 
Isf  tual  resources,  calcolation.  and  science  to  bear  on  lliB 
cultivation  of  the  soil ;  to  whom  wb  owe  experimental 
fanning  and  gardoniog,  and  liie  introdaction  of  a  variety 
of  iiuw  vegetables,  froits,  &c.  M.  Guizot  stjles  the 
Benodictinee  "  Ifa  d^fndiam  de  i'Europe  " :  wherever 
they  earned  the  cross  they  carried  also  the  plongb.  It 
is  true  that  there  were  among  them  many  vrho  preferred 
Blady  to  maDual  labor  ;  neither  can  it  be  denied  that  the 
"  sheltering  loisorB  "  uid  '■  Bohor  plen^  "  of  the  Bene- 
dictine monasteries  sometimes  ministered  la  indolence 
and  iasnbordioation,  and  that  the  cultivation  of  their  do- 
mains tras  ofteo  abandoned  to  their  farmers  and  ntEsals. 
"  Bnt^"  aaja  Mr.  Maidand,  "  it  was,  and  we  ought 
most  gratefully  to  acknowledge  that  it  is,  a  most  happy 
thing  tor  the  world  that  they  did  not  contino  (hcmselvea 
to  the  possession  of  such  smalt  estates  as  they  could 
cultivate  vrith  Iheir  own  hands.  The  exfraordinary 
benefit  whieh  they  conferred  on  socie^  by  colonizing 
waste  places,  —  places  chosen  bcotuse  tiiey  were  waste 
and  solitary,  and  sach  as  could  be  reclaimed  only  by 
ilvi  incessant  labor  of  those  who  were  willing  to  work 
hard  and  live  hard,  —  lands  often  given  because  they 
were  qoi  worth  keeping,  —  lands  which  for  a  long  while 
left  their  cultivators  half-starved  end  dependent  on  the 
i-'llarity  of  those  who  odmiretl  what  we  must  too  oDen 
vail  &uatical  zeal, — even  the  ejcIraardinaTy  benefit,  I 
say,  which  they  confbrred  on  mankind  by  thus  clearing 
and  cnltivBting,  was  small  in  comparison  with  the  ad- 
vantages derived  from  them  hy  society,  aAer  they  had 
Iwcome  large  proprietors,  landlords  with  more  benevo- 
lence, and  rarmers  with  more  intelligence  and  capital, 
than  any  others." 

Sir  Jamea  Stephen  thus  sDms  up  their  highest  olums 
upon  the  gratitude  of  succeeding  times:  "The  great- 
ness of  iho  Benedictines  did  not,  however,  consist  either 
i'l  their  B^p'lcultnral  skill,  their  prodigies  of  architectare, 
or  their  priceless  libraries,  bnc  iu  their  parentage  of 
ntless  men  and  women  UlDBtrions  for  active  pieQi, 


THE  EARLY  BENEDICTINES.  43 

for  wisdom  in  the  government  of  mankind,  for  profound 
learning,  and  for  that  contemplative  spirit,  which  dis- 
covers, within  the  sonl  itself,  things  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  perceptible  creation." 

The  annalists  of  the  Benedictine  Order  (**  Chroniqne 
de  S.  Benoit  **)  proudly  reckon  up  the  worthies  it  has 
produced  since  its  first  foundation  in  529,  —  viz. :  40 
popes,  200  cardinals,  50  patriarchs,  1,600  archbishops, 
4,600  bishops,  and  3,600  canonized  saints.  It  is  a  more 
legitimate  source  of  pride  that  "  by  their  Order  were 
either  laid  or  preserved  the  foundations  of  all  the  em- 
inent schools  of  learning  of  modem  Europe.'' 

Thus,  then,  the  Benedictines  may  be  regarded  as,  in 
fact,  the  &rmers,  the  thinkers  and  writers,  the  artists, 
and  the  schoolmasters  of  mediaeval  Europe ;  and  this 
brief,  imperfect  sketch  of  their  enlightened  and  enlight- 
ening influence  is  given  here  merely  as  an  introduction 
to  the  artistic  treatment  of  characters  and  subjects  con- 
nected with  them.  All  the  Benedictine  worthies  who 
figure  in  art  are  more  or  less  interesting ;  as  for  the  le- 
gendary stories  and  wonders  by  which  their  real  history 
has  been  ^perplexed  and  disfigured,  even  these  are  not 
without  value,  as  illustrative  of  the  morals  and  man- 
ners of  the  times  in  which  they  were  published  and  rep- 
resented :  while  the  vast  area  of  civilization  over  which 
these  representations  extend,  and  the  curious  traits  of 
national  and  individual  character  exemplified  in  the  va- 
riety of  treatment,  open  to  us,  as  we  proceed,  many 
sources  of  thoughtful  sympathy  with  the  past,  and  of 
speculation  on  the  possible  future. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  principal  saints  of  the 
Benedictine  Order  whom  I  have  found  represented  in 
works  of  art. 

St.  Benedict,  patriarch  and  founder.  In  the  re- 
ligious edifices  of  the  Benedictines,  properly  so  called, 
which  acknowledge  the  convent  of  Monte  Cassino  as 
the  parent  institution,  —  as  for  instance  in  St.  Giustina 
at  Padua,  San  Severo  at  Naples,  Saint  Maur  and  Mar- 


44    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS, 

moatier  in  France,  San  Michele-in-Bosco  at  Bologna, 
and  all  the  Benedictine  foundations  in  England,  —  St. 
Benedict  is  to  be  represented  in  the  black  habit ;  but 
when  he  figures  as  the  Patriarch  of  the  Reformed  Or- 
ders who  adopted  the  white  habit,  as  the  Camaldolesi, 
the  Cistercians,  the  Carthusians,  he  is  represented  in  the 
white  habit,  as  in  many  pictures  of  the  Tuscan  school. 
This  is  a  point  to  be  kept  in  remembrance,  or  we  shall 
be  likely  to  confuse  both  names  and  characters. 
The  black  habit  is  given  to 

St.  Scholastica,  the  sister  of  St.  Benedict,  and  to  his 
immediate  disciples,  St.  Maurus,  St.  Placidus,  and  St. 
Flavia ; 

To  St.  Boniface,  the  Apostle  of  Germany ; 
St.  Bennet,  Bishop  of  Durham  ; 
St.  Benedict  of  Anian ; 
St.  Dunstan  of  Canterbury ; 
St.  Walpurgis  of  Eichstadt ; 
St.  Giles  of  Languedoc ; 
St.  Bdefonso  of  Toledo ; 
St.  Bavon  of  Ghent ; 
and  in  general  to  all  the  early  Benedictines  who  lived 
previous  to  the  institution  of  the  Camaldolesi  in  1020. 

St.  Homualdo  and  the  monks  of  Camaldoli  wear  the 
white  habit. 

St.  John  Gnalberto  and  the  monks  of  Vallombrosa 
wear  the  pale  gray,  or  ash-colored  habit.  These  occur 
in  the  foundations  of  their  respective  orders,  and  chiefly 
in  Florentine  art. 

St.  Peter  of  Clngny  and  the  Cluniacs  ought  to  wear 
the  black  habit. 

St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  and  the  Cistercians  wear 
the  white  habit,  with  variations  of  form  which  will  be 
pointed  out  hereafter. 

St.  Bruno  and  the  Carthusians  also  wear  the  white 
habit.  It  must  be  remembered  that  St.  Bruno  is  not 
met  with  in  any  works  of  art  before  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, rarely  before  the  seventeenth ;  while  saint  Ber- 
nard, who  figures  early  as  a  canonized  saint  and  as  one 


ST,  BENEDICT.  45 

of  the  great  lights  of  the  Catholic  Church,  occurs  per- 
petually in  Xtalian  pictures,  with  his  ample  white  robes, 
his  pen,  and  his  book ;  and  not  merely  in  the  groups 
of  his  own  Order,  but  in  combination  with  St.  Francis, 
St.  Dominick,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  other  person- 
ages of  remarkable  authority  and  sanctity.  There  are 
a  few  instances  in  early  German  art  of  St.  Bernard  at- 
tired in  the  Uadc  Benedictine  habit,  which  I  shall  no- 
tice in  their  proper  place. 

The  Olivetani,  a  branch  of  the  Benedictine  Order 
founded  by  St.  Bernardo  Ptolomei,  also  wear  the  white 
habit. 

Having  thus  introduced  the  Benedictine  saints  gen- 
erally, we  proceed  to  call  them  up  individually,  and  bid 
them  stand  before  us,  each  **  in  his  habit  as  he  lived," 
or  as  poetry  has  interpreted  and  art  translated  into  form 
the  memories  and  traditions  of  men.  And  first  appears 
old  father  Benedict  —  well  named  1 — for  surely  he  loas 

BLESSED. 


St.  Benedict. 

ItcU.  San  Benedetto.  Fr.  Saint  Benoit.  Spa.  San  Benito. 
Foonder,  patriarch,  and  first  abbot  of  the  Order.  March  21, 
543. 

Habtt  and  ATrRiBUTBS.  — In  the  original  rule  of  St.  Benedict, 
the  color  of  the  habit  was  not  specified.  He  and  his  disciples  wore 
black,  as  all  the  monks  had  done  up  to  that  time  ;  but  in  the  pic 
tores  painted  for  the  reformed  Benedictines,  St.  Benedict  wears 
the  white  habit. 

The  proper  and  most  usual  attributes  are,  1.  The  B.od  for  sprink- 
ling holy  water  -.  2.  The  Mitre  and  pastoral  staff  as  abbot :  3.  The 
Baven  ;  sometimes  with  a  loaf  of  bread  in  its  beak  :  4.  A  pitoher 
or  a  broken  glass,  or  cup  containing  wine :  5.  A  thorn-bush :  6. 
A  broken  sieve. 

St.  Benedict  was  born  of  a  noble  family  in  the 
little  town  of  Norcia,  in  the  Duchy  of  Spoleto,  about 


46    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

the  year  480.  He  was  sent  to  Rome  to  study  literature 
and  science,  and  made  so  much  progress  as  to  give 
great  hopes  that  he  was  destined  to  rise  to  distinction  as 
a  pleader;  but,  while  yet  a  boy,  he  appears  to  have 
been  deeply  disgusted  by  the  profligate  manners  of  the 
youths  who  were  his  fellow-students,  and  the  eyil  ex- 
ample around  him,  instead  of  acting  as  an  allurement, 
threw  him  into  the  opposite  extreme.  At  this  period 
the  opinions  of  St.  Jerome  and  St.  Augustine,  with  re> 
gard  to  the  efficacy  of  solitude  and  penance,  were  still 
prevalent  throughout  the  West :  young  Benedict's  hor- 
ror of  the  vicious  lives  of  those  around  him,  together 
with  the  influence  of  that  religious  enthusiasm  which 
was  the  spirit  of  the  age,  drovQ  him  into  a  hermitage 
at  the  bo3dsh  age  of  fifteen. 

On  leaving  Rome,  he  was  followed  by  his  nurse,  who 
had  brought  him  up  from  infancy,  and  loved  him  with 
extreme  tenderness.  This  good  woman,  doubtful,  per- 
haps, whether  her  young  charge  was  out  of  his  wits  or 
inspired,  waited  on  his  steps,  tended  him  with  a  moth- 
er's care,  begged  for  him,  and  prepared  the  small  por- 
tion of  food  which  she  could  prevail  upon  him  to  Udke. 
But  while  thus  sustained  and  comforted,  Benedict  did 
not  believe  his  penance  entire  or  efiective  ;  he  secretly 
fled  from  his  nurse,  and  concealed  himself  among  ttie 
rocks  of  Subiaco,  a  wilderness  about  forty  miles  from 
Rome.  He  met  there  a  hermit,  whose  name  was  Ro- 
mano, to  whom  he  confided  his  pious  aspirations  ;  and 
then  took  refuge  in  a  cavern  (il  saffro  Speco),  where  he 
lived  for  three  years  unknown  to  his  family  and  to  the 
world,  and  supplied  with  food  by  the  hermit ;  this  food 
consisted  merely  of  bread  and  water,  which  Romano 
abstracted  from  his  own  scanty  fare. 

In  this  solitary  life,  Benedict  underwent  many  temp- 
tations ;  and  he  relates,  that  on  one  occasion,  the  recol- 
lection of  a  beautiful  woman  whom  he  had  seen  at 
Rome,  took  such  possession  of  his  imagination  as  al- 
most to  overpower  his  virtue,  so  that  he  was  on  the 
point  of  rushing  from  his  solitude  to  seek  that  fiu»  and 


ST,  BENEDICT.  47 

form  which  haunted  his  morbid  fancy  and  disturbed 
his  dreams.  He  felt,  however,  or  he  believed,  for  such 
was  the  persuasion  of  the  time,  that  this  assault  upon 
his  constancy  could  only  come  from  the  enemy  of  man- 
kind. In  a  crisis  of  these  distracted  desires,  he  rushed 
from  his  cave,  and  flung  himself  into  a  thicket  of  briers 
and  nettles,  in  which  he  rolled  himself  until  the  blood 
flowed.  Thereupon  the  fiends  left  him,  and  he  was 
never  again  assailed  by  the  same  temptation.  They 
show  in  the  garden  of  the  monastery  at  Suhiaco  the 
rose-bushes  which  have  been  propagated  from  the  very 
briers  consecrated  by  this  poetical  legend. 

The  fame  of  the  young  saint  now  extended  through 
all  the  country  around ;  the  shepherds  and  the  poor 
villagers  brought  their  sick  to  his  cavern  to  be  healed ; 
others  begged  his  prayers ;  they  contended  with  each 
other  who  should  supply  the  humble  portion  of  food 
which  he  required ;  and  a  neighboring  society  of  her- 
mits sent  to  request  that  he  would  place  himself  at  their 
head.  He,  knowing  something  of  the  morals  and 
manners  of  this  community,  refused  at  first ;  and  only 
yielded  upon  great  persuasion,  and  in  the  hope  that  he 
might  be  able  to  reform  the  abuses  which  had  been 
introduced  into  this  monastery.  But  when  there,  the 
strictness  of  his  life  filled  these  perverted  men  with  envy 
and  alarm ;  and  one  of  them  attempted  to  poison  him 
in  a  cap  of  wine.  Benedict,  on  the  cup  being  presented 
to  him,  blessed  it  as  usual,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross;  the  cup  instantly  fell  from  the  hands  of  the 
traitor,  was  broken  and  its  contents  spilt  on  the  ground. 
(This  is  a  scene  often  represented  in  the  Benedictine 
convents.)  He,  thereupon,  rose  up ;  and  telling  the 
monks  that  they  must  provide  themselves  with  another 
superior,  left  them,  and  returned  to  his  solitary  cave  at 
Subiaco,  where,  to  use  the  strong  expression  of  St. 
Gregory,  he  dwelt  ipith  himself;  meaning  thereby  that  he 
did  not  allow  his  spirit  to  go  beyond  the  bounds  that  he 
had  assigned  to  it,  keeping  it  always  in  presence  of  his 
ooDscienoe  and  his  God. 


48    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

Bat  now  Subiaco  could  no  longer  be  styled  a  desert, 
for  it  was  crowded  with  the  hats  and  the  cells  of  those 
whom  the  fame  of  his  sanctity,  his  virtues,  and  his 
miracles  had  gathered  around  him.  At  length,  in  or- 
der to  introduce  some  kind  of  discipline  and  order  into 
this  community,  he  directed  them  to  constract  twelve 
monasteries,  in  each  of  which  he  placed  twelve  disciples 
with  a  superior  over  them.  Many  had  come  f^m 
Home  and  from  other  cities ;  and,  amongst  others,  came 
two  Roman  senators,  Anicius  and  TertuUus,  men  of 
high  rank,  bringing  to  him  their  sons,  Maurus  and  Pla- 
cidus,  with  an  earnest  request  that  he  would  educate 
them  in  the  way  of  salvation.  Maurus  was  at  this 
time  a  boy  of  about  eleven  or  twelve  years  old,  and 
Placidus  a  child  not  more  than  five.  Benedict  took 
them  under  his  peculiar  care,  and  his  community  con- 
tinued for  several  years  to  increase  in  number  and 
celebrity,  in  brotherly  charity,  and  in  holiness  of  life. 
But  of  course  the  enemy  of  mankind  could  not  long 
endure  a  state  of  things  so  inimical  to  his  power :  he 
instigated  a  certain  priest,  whose  name  was  Florentius, 
and  who  was  enraged  by  seeing  his  disciples  and  follow- 
ers attracted  by  the  superior  virtue  and  humility  of  St. 
Benedict,  to  endeavor  to  blacken  his  reputation  and 
even  to  attempt  his  life  by  means  of  a  poisoned  loaf; 
and  this  not  availing,  Florentius  introduced  into  one  of 
the  monasteries  seven  young  women,  in  order  to  cor- 
rupt the  chastity  of  his  monks.  Benedict,  whom  we 
have  always  seen  much  more  inclined  to  fly  from  evil 
than  to  resist  it,  departed  from  Subiaco ;  but  scarcely 
had  he  left  the  place,  when  his  disciple  Maurus  sent  a 
messenger  to  tell  him  that  his  enemy  Florentius  had 
been  crushed  by  the  fall  of  a  gallery  of  his  house. 
Benedict,  far  from  rejoicing,  wept  for  the  fate  of  his 
adversary,  and  imposed  a  severe  penance  on  Maurus 
for  an  expression  of  triumph  at  the  judgment  that  had 
overtaken  their  enemy. 

Paganism  was  not  yet  so  completely  banished  from 
Italy,  but  that  there  existed  in  some  of  the  solitary 


ST.  BENEDICT,  49 

places,  temples  and  priests  and  worshippers  of  the  false 
gods.  It  happened  (and  the  case  is  not  withont  paral- 
lel in  our  own  times)  that  while  the  bishops  of  Rome 
were  occupied  in  extending  the  power  of  the  Church, 
and  preaching  Christianity  in  far  distant  nations,  a  nest 
of  idolaters  existed  within  a  few  miles  of  the  capital  of 
Christendom.  In  a  consecrated  grove,  near  the  sum- 
mit of  Monte  Cassino,  stood  a  temple  of  Apollo,  where 
the  god,  or,  as  he  was  then  regarded,  the  demon,  was 
still  worshipped  with  unholj  rites. 

Benedict  had  heard  of  this  abomination :  he  repaired, 
therefore,  to  the  neighborhood  of  Monte  Cassino ;  he 
preached  the  kingdom  of  Christ  to  these  deluded  people ; 
converted  them  bj  his  eloquence  and  his  miracles,  and 
at  length  persuaded  them  to  break  the  statue,  throw 
down  the  altar,  and  bum  up  their  consecrated  grove. 
And  on  the  spot  he  built  two  chapels,  in  honor  of  two 
saints  whom  he  regarded  as  models,  —  the  one  of  the 
contemplative,  the  other  of  the  active  religious  life: 
St.  John  the  Baptist  and  St.  Martin  of  Tours. 

Then,  higher  up  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  he  laid 
the  foundation  of  that  celebrated  monastery,  which  has 
since  been  regarded  as  the  Parent  Institution  of  his  Or- 
der. Hence  was  promulgated  the  &mous  Kule  which 
became,  from  that  time  forth,  the  general  law  of  the 
monks  of  Western  Europe,  and  which  gave  to  mona- 
chism  its  definite  form.  The  rule  given  to  the  ceno- 
bites  of  the  East  —  and  which,  according  to  an  old 
tradition,  had  been  revealed  to  St.  Pachomius  by  an 
angel  —  comprised  the  three  vows  of  poverty,  of  chas- 
tity, and  of  obedience.  To  these  Benedict  added  two 
other  obligations;  the  first  was  manual  labor,  —  those 
who  entered  his  community  were  obliged  to  labor  with 
their  hands  seven  hours  in  the  day ;  secondly,  the  vows 
were  perpetual;  but  he  ordained  that  these  perpetual 
vows  should  be  preceded  by  a  novitiate  of  a  year,  dur- 
ing which  the  entire  code  was  read  repeatedly  fix»m 
beginning  to  end,  and  at  the  conclusion  the  reader  said, 
in  an  emphatic  voice,  **  This  is  the  law  under  which 

4 


so    LEGENDS  OF  THK  MO.VASTJC  ORDERS, 


a  live  BniJ  I 


e  for  BBlratian 


piuiflt  observe  ii,  r 
—  thou  ait  free."  Bui  ihe  vows  once  uken  were 
irrevoimble,  aud  [he  |iuiiULiinont  for  lircaking  them 
was  mOBt  sevurv.  Un  the  whcJc,  however,  and  selling 
npiiTt  that  which  belonged  to  the  eupencitioD  oF  the 
time,  the  liule  given  \>y  St.  Benediet  to  his  Order  wni 
humimc,  moduiate,  wiiie,  and  emineatljr  Cliiifitian  in 
spirit. 

Towards  the  close  of  his  long  life  Benedict  iras  eon- 
Boled  for  many  irouhles  by  the  arrival  of  hUrister  Seho- 
lastiia,  who  hud  already  devoted  herself  to  a  religiooR 
life,  and  now  look  np  her  rcudenec  in  a  retired  cell  aboat 
A  league  and  a  half  from  bis  convent.  Verj  little  ia 
known  of  Scholosiiea,  except  thai  aiie  emulated  her 
brother's  piety  and  Bolf-deDiol;  aod  although  it  is  iiol 
aaid  that  she  look  any  vows,  she  is  genGrallj  coasiiJered 
SI  the  flrat  Benedictine  nun.  When  she  followed  her 
brother  to  Monio  Cnssino,  she  drew  around  her  there  a 
siiiull  eommuniiy  of  pious  women;  bat  nothing  more 
is  recorded  of  ber,  except  that  he  used  to  visit  her  oufd 
a  year.  On  one  oecasion,  when  they  had  been  coci- 
veraing  together  on  spiritual  matters  till  rather  late  in 
the  cveoing.  Benedict  roao  lo  depart;  hia  sister  entreated 
him  to  remain  a  littie  longer,  but  he  refuaed :  Scho- 
lustiea  then,  bending  her  head  over  her  clasped  hands, 
prayed  that  Heaven  would  interfere  and  render  it  im- 
poEsible  for  her  brother  to  leave  her.  Immediately 
there  eamo  on  sucb  a  furious  tempest  of  rain,  thunder, 
and  lightoing,  that  Benedict  was  obliged  to  delay  his 
departure  for  aome  hours.  As  soon  as  the  alarm  had 
subsided,  hs  took  leave  of  hia  aister,  and  returned  to  the 
mouDstery  :  it  was  u  last  meeting;  St.  Scbolustica  died 
two  daye  afterwards,  and  St.  Benedict,  as  he  was  pray- 
ing in  bis  cell,  beheld  the  soul  of  hia  aialer  ascending  to 
heaven  in  the  form  of  a  dove.  This  incident  is  often 
fbnad  in  the  pictures  painted  for  the  Benedictine  ni 
It  would  take  volumes  to  relate  all  the  actions  . 
miraclea  of  Bl.  Benedict,  during  the  fonrteen  years  i 


L 


8T.  BENEDICT.  51 

he  presided  over  the  Conyent  of  Monte  Cassino.  In 
the  year  540  he  was  visited  by  Totila,  king  of  the  Goths, 
who  cast  himself  prostrate  at  his  feet,  and  entreated  his 
blessing.  Benedict  reproved  him  for  the  ravages  and 
the  craelties  that  he  had  committed  in  Italy,  and  it  was 
remarked  that  thenceforward  the  ferocious  Goth  showed 
more  humanity  than  heretofore. 

Shortly  after  the  visit  of  Totila,  Benedict  died  of  a 
fever  with  which  he  had  been  seized  in  attending  the 
poor  of  the  neighborhood.  On  the  sixth  day  of  his 
illness,  he  ordered  his  grave  to  be  dug,  stood  for  a  while 
upon  the  edge  of  it  supported  by  his  disciples,  contem- 
plating in  silence  the  narrow  bed  in  which  he  was  to  be 
laid ;  then,  desiring  them  to  carry  him  to  the  foot  of  the 
altar  in  the  church,  he  received  the  last  sacraments,  and 
expired,  on  the  21st  of  March,  543.  Considering  the 
great  reputation  and  sanctity  of  life  of  this  extraordinary 
man,  we  cannot  be  surprised  that  he  should  have  been 
the  subject  of  a  thousand  inventions.  The  accomplished 
ecclesiastics  of  his  own  Order  who  compiled  tbe  me- 
moirs of  his  life  reproach  the  legendary  writers  for  ad- 
mitting these  improbable  stories ;  and  remark  with  equal 
candor  and  good  sense,*  <'  loin  d'applaudir  aux  faux 
z^le  de  ces  ^crivains,  on  doit  les  condamner  comme  des 
personnes  qui  corrompent  la  verite  de  Thistoire ;  et  qui, 
an  lieu  de  £eure  honneur  au  Saint,  le  deshonorent,  en 
abnsant  de  son  nom  pour  d^iter  des  fables,  et  se  jouer 
de  la  credulity  des  simples." 

Even  before  his  death,  that  is,  before  the  year  543, 
institutions  of  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict  were  to  be 
found  in  every  part  of  Christian  Europe.  Of  his  two 
most  famous  disciples,  the  elder,  St.  Maurus,  introduced 
the  Bule  into  France  and  founded  the  monastery  of 
Glanfeuil,  since  called  St.  Maure-sur-Loire ;  and  so 
completely  did  this  Rule  supersede  all  others,  that  in 
the  ninth  century  when  Charlemagne  inquired  whether 
jn  the  different  parts  of  his  empire  there  existed  other 
monks  besides  those  of  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict,  none 

*  Mabillon. 


5* 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


coald  be  fband.  St.  Maoros  died  in  bis  conyent  of 
Glanfcuil.*  (a.  d.  584,  Jan.  15.)  St.  Placidus  was 
sent  by  his  Superior  into  Sicily,  where,  according  to 
the  tradition,  he  was  joined  by  his  young  sister  Flavia, 
And  two  of  his  brothers.  But  within  a  few  years  after- 
wards, and  while  Placidus  himself  was  still  in  the  bloom 
of  youth,  the  convent  near  Messina,  in  which  he  dwelt, 
was  attacked  by  certain  pirates  and  barbarians.  Pla- 
cidus and  his  sister  Flavia  were  dragged  forth  and 
massacred,  with  thirty  of  their  companions,  in  front  of 
the  convent,  on  the  5th  of  October,  about  the  year  540. 
It  is  fair  to  add,  that  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Placidus 
and  St.  Flavia  is  considered  by  the  later  Benedictine 
writers  as  apocryphal. 


Pictures  of  St.  Benedict  often  perplex  the  obseryer, 
because,  as  I  have  already  shown,  he  was  frequently 
represented  in  early  art  wearing  the  white  habit,  whereas 
the  original  habit  of  his  Order  was  Uack.  Where  he 
has  the  white  habit,  it  is  easy  to  confound  him  with  Sl^ 
Bernard,  St.  Bruno,  or  St.  Romualdo;  where  he  has 
the  black  habit,  he  may  be  mistaken  for  St.  Antony. 
It  is  therefore  necessary  to  attend  particularly  to  some 
characteristic  attributes  which  serve  to  distinguish  him. 

In  ail  pictures  painted  for  those  Benedictine  churches 
and  edifices  which  depend  on  Monte  Cassino  and  Su- 
biaco,  and  in  the  single  devotional  effigies,  St.  Benedict 
wears  the  black  habit  with  a  hood ;  where  he  figures  as 

*  St.  Maur  was  introduced  Into  England,  and  held  in  great 
Teneration  by  our  Norman  ancestors ;  I  believe  it  is  generally 
known  that  from  this  French  saint  is  derived  one  of  our  greatest 
English  surnames,  —  Seymaur  or  Seymour,  from  Saint-Maur  \  but 
I  should  regret  a  return  to  the  French  appellation.  Saint-lilaur 
is  foreign,  and  interesting  only  as  the  name  of  a  French  monk  *. 
Seymour  is  English,  and  surrounded  by  all  those  historical  associa- 
tions which  give  the  name  its  English  claims  to  consideration,  and 
Us  charm  to  English  ears. 


ST.  BENEDICT, 


53 


patriarch  of  the  reformed  Benedictines  of  Clairvaux, 
Citeaox,  Camaldoii,  or  Valiombrosa,  he  wears  the  white 
habit.  He  is  sometimes  beardless,  or  with  little  beard ; 
but  more  frequently  he  has  a  long  white  beard.  As 
abbot  of  Monte  Cassino,  he  has  sometimes  the  pastoral 
staff  and  mitre.  He  frequently  carries  an  open  book 
on  which  is  written  the  first  words  of  his  famous  rule, 
"AuscuLTB,  FiLi,  Verba  Magistri." 

Like  other  saints  who  have  resisted  the  attacks  of 
the  demon,  he  carries  the  asperge,  or  rod  used  to 
sprinkle  holy  water,  here  emblematical  of  the  purity  or 
holiness  by  which  he  conquered.  The  thombush  is  an 
attribute  which  commemorates  the  means  through  which 
he  conquered.  A  pitcher  of  wine  in  his  hand,  or  a 
pitcher,  or  a  broken  cup  standing  on  his  book,  expresses 
the  attempt  to  poison  him  in  wine.  The  raven  and  a 
loaf  of  bread,  with  a  serpent  creeping  from  it,  expresses 
the  attempt  to  poison  him  in  bread. 

When  he  is  grouped  with  his  two  disciples  St.  Mau- 
ms  and  St.  Placidus,  they  all  wear  the  black  habit ;  or 
St.  Benedict  appears  as  abbot,  and  the  two  disciples  as 
deacons,  wearing  the  rich  dalmatica  over  the  black 
tunic.  St.  Maurus  has  a  book  or  a  censer ;  St.  Placidus 
bears  his  palm  as  martyr. 

When  a  nun  in  a  black  habit  is  introduced  into  pic- 
tures of  St.  Benedict,  or  stands  alone  with  a  lily  in  her 
hand,  and  a  dove  at  her  feet  or  pressed  to  her  bosom, 
it  represents  St.  Scholastica.  It  is  common  to  find  in 
the  Benedictine  churches,  especially  in  Italy,  devotional 
figures  of  St.  Benedict  and  St.  Scholastica  standing  on 
each  side  of  the  altar. 

When,  in  the  Benedictine  groups,  a  fourth  saint  is 
introduced,  a  female  saint,  young  and  beautiful,  and 
with  the  martyr  palm  and  crown ;  it  is  probably,  if  not 
otherwise  distinguished,  St.  Flavia,  the  martyred  sister 
of  St.  Placidus. 

Every  one  who  has  visited  the  Vatican  will  recollect 
the  three  beautiful  little  heads  by  Perugino,  styled  in 
the  catalogue  li  tre  Sanii,    In  the  centre  i£  Si.  Bene- 


I 


54    LEGENDa  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

diet,  ffitb  hia  blat^k  cowl  Over  hi»  hred  and  long  parted 
bcnnl,  tlie  book  in  one  hand  and  the  upei^'u  in  the 
other.  Qa  one  side,  St.  Plscidus,  jonnf^,  imd  with  a 
mild,  candid  expregsioii,  black  habit  and  ahaven  crown, 
boars  hia  palm.  On  the  otboc  Bide  is  St.  Flavia, 
crowned  a*  martyr,  holding  her  palm,  and  gazing  up- 
ward with  a  divine  expreeeion.  These  exqoiaite  iittle 
piclureB  wore  pointed  by  Peragino,  for  the  eacriaty  of 
the  chnrcb  of  the  Benedictines  at  Fcmgia.  There  I 
afterwords  bow  the  otlier  pictures  which  completed  the 
Bcrics,  and  which  are  not  Iobb  beBaliful ;  St.  St'holtutico 
and  St.  Manrus;  St.  Ereolaoo  and  St.  Coalaozo,  the 
patrons  of  Perugia  ;  and  Peter  {}ie  VensMf,  nbliot  of 

In  a  imposition  by  Benedetto  Montogna,  engraved 
bj  himself,  and  exceedingly  rare,  he  has  represented  liis 
patron  saint  staadine  in  the  centre  with  his  crosier  and 
book.  On  the  right  band,  Si.  Sehaiasiica  holding  a 
book,  and  next  to  her,  St.  Ginalina,  the  pntroneas  of 
Padua,  witli  a  sword  in  her  bosom  and  holding  a  palm. 
The  engraTing  was  executed  at  Padua,  and  the  name 
Inscribed,  otherwise  I  shoald  have  suppo^ul  this  jignre 
to  represent  St.  Flovia.  On  the  other  side  of  St.  Bene- 
dict are  St.  Maurua  and  St  Placidns. 

By  Paul  Veroneso:  (Fl.  PittJ  Pal.)  St.  Benedict 
Btanding  ia  the  black  habit  between  St.  Maums  and  St. 
Placidns ;  lower  down  are  fire  Benedictine  nniia,  St. 
Scholaatica  being  distinguished  by  her  doTO ;  above,  in 
a  glory,  is  the  marriage  of  St.  Catherine.  This  ar- 
rangement leaves  no  doubt  that  the  picture  was  painted 
for  a  convent  of  Benedictine  nnoH,  "  Sposn  di  ChritCo." 


ST.  BENEDICT,  55 

There  are  one  or  two  examples  in  which  St.  Bene- 
dict appears  with  St.  Manras  and  St.  Placidus  repre- 
sented as  children,  wearing  the  albe  and  kneeling  at 
his  feet,  or  with  censers  in  their  hands. 

These  remarks  apply  chiefly  to  Italian  art.  In  the 
early  German  school  we  find  that  the  groups  of  Bene- 
dictine worthies  vary  according  to  the  locality.  In  the 
place  of  St.  Maums,  St.  Placidus,  St.  Scholastica,  we 
have,  perhaps,  St.  Boniface,  St.  Cunibert,  St.  Willibald, 
St.  Gertrude,  or  St.  Ottilia.  In  the  early  memorials 
of  English  ecclesiastical  art,  the  companions  of  St.  Ben- 
edict are  St.  Gregory  and  St.  Austin  of  Canterbury,  or 
St.  Dunstan  and  St.  Cuthbert.  In  the  lives  of  these 
saints  I  shall  have  occasion  to  point  out  the  motive  and 
propriety  of  these  variations  ;  but  here  I  will  not  antici- 
pate. 

Among  the  pictures  of  St.  Benedict  as  Patriarch, 
should  be  mentioned  those  which  represent  him  as 
seated  on  a  throne ;  and  around  him  a  great  number 
of  figures,  male  and  female,  wearing  the  habits  of  the 
difierent  Orders,  religious  and  military,  which  were 
founded  on  his  Rule.  There  is  a  grand  picture  of  this 
subject  in  the  Convent  of  San  Martino  near  Palermo, 
by  Novelli,  the  best  of  the  late  Sicilian  painters. 

Separate  subjects  from  the  life  of  St.  Benedict,  in 
general  representing  some  of  his  most  famous  actions 
or  miracles,  are  of  course  firequently  found  in  the  con- 
vents of  his  Order. 

1.  He  stands  on  the  step  leading  to  the  door  of  his 
convent  at  Monte  Cassino  ;  a  man,  kneeling  at  his  feet, 
places  a  sick  child  before  him,  which  is  healed  by  the 
prayer  of  the  saint ;  as  in  a  picture  by  Subleyras 
(Louvre),  (where  St.  Benedict  wears  the  white  habit) ; 
another  by  Silvestre ;  a  third  by  Rubens ;  and  in  a 
very  fine  Velasquez.     (Darmstadt  Gal.) 

2.  St.  Benedict,  in  the  monastery  of  Monte  Cassino, 
gives  the  Rule  to  his  Order.  (Simone  Avanzi.  Bo- 
logna Gal.,  ▲.  D.  1370.) 


56    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS, 

S.  St.  Beoedict,  when  at  Subiaco,  is  haunted  by  the 
recollection  of  a  beantiful  woman  he  had  seen  at  Rome. 
He  lies  in  the  midst  of  thorns ;  two  angels  in  fix)nt 
scatter  roses,  while  the  tempting  devil  is  gliding  away 
behind.     (Palma  V.     Milan.     Brera.) 

4.  St.  Benedict  receives  St.  Manms  and  St.  Placi- 
dos,  who  are  presented  by  their  respective  fathers.  (Pa- 
dua.    St.  Ginstina.) 

5.  St.  Benedict  kneeling,  with  his  hands  ontspread, 
and  looking  up  with  an  expression  of  transport,  sees,  in 
a  vision  his  sister  Scholastica,  attended  by  two  virgin 
martyrs  (probably  St.  Catherine  and  St.  Agnes),  and 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul.  (Le  Sueur.  Louvre.)  Here 
he  wears  the  black  habit  with  the  cowl  thrown  back ; 
the  crosier  and  mitre,  expressing  his  dignity  as  abbot, 
lie  near  him.  This  beautiful  picture  was  painted  for 
the  convent  of  Marmontier. 

6.  The  wicked  monks  attempt  to  poison  St.  Bene- 
dict. He  is  seated  within  the  porch  of  a  convent,  a 
monk  approaches  and  presents  to  him  a  cup  of  wine, 
another  behind  holds  a  pitcher,  and  turns  away  his  head 
with  a  look  of  alarm  :  as  in  a  predella  by  Andrea  del 
Sarto.  (Fl.  Acad.)  Here  St.  Benedict  and  the  monks 
wear  the  white  habit,  the  picture  having  been  painted 
for  the  monastery  of  St.  Salvi,  near  Florence,  a  branch 
of  the  Vallombrosian  Order. 

7.  The  mission  of  St.  Mauro  and  St.  Placido :  St 
Benedict  gives  them  his  blessing  before  they  depart,  the 
one  to  France,  the  other  to  Sicily. 

8.  St.  Benedict,  being  near  his  end,  stands  looking 
down  into  his  grave ;  he  is  sustained  by  two  angels, 
and  there  are  nine  figures  of  monks  and  attendants. 

A  complete  history  of  the  life  and  miracles  of  St. 
Benedict,  in  a  series  of  subjects  executed  in  painting, 
sculpture,  or  stained  glass,  may  still  be  found  in  many 
of  the  churches,  chapels,  and  cloisters  of  the  Benedic- 
tine convents.  I  wiU  mention  a  few  of  the  most  cele- 
brated. 


ST,  BENEDICT,  57 

1.  A  series  at  Naples  painted  by  Antonio  Solario 
(called  Lo  Zingaro,  the  Gypsy),  in  the  cloisters  of  the 
convent  of  San  Severino.  Here  St.  Benedict  wears  the 
Uadc  habit. 

2.  A  series  by  Spinello  Aretino,  which  covers  the 
walls  of  the  sacristy  of  San  Miniato.  Here  the  convent 
being  attached  to  the  Vallombrosian  Order,  St.  Bene- 
dict and  his  monks  wear  the  white  Iiabit. 

3.  A  series  elaborately  carved  in  wood,  in  forty- 
eight  compartments,  in  the  choir  of  the  chiu*ch  of  San 
Giorgio  at  Venice.     By  Albert  de  Brule. 

4.  A  series  painted  in  fresco  by  Ludovico  Caracci 
and  his  papils,  in  the  Benedictine  convent  of  San  Mi- 
chele-in-Bosco ;  once  famoas  as  a  school  of  art,  now 
unhappily  in  a  most  ruined  state,  these  magnificent 
cloisters  having  been  converted  into  a  horse-barrack  by 
the  French. 

5.  A  sot  of  ten  pictures  by  Philippe  de  Champagne  : 
not  very  good.     (Musee.     Brussels.) 

As  the  selection  of  subjects  is  nearly  the  same  in  all, 
I  shall  confine  myself  to  the  exact  description  of  one 
complete  series,  which  will  assist  the  reader  in  the  com- 
prehension of  any  others  he  may  meet  with,  and  shall 
review  that  which  is  earliest  in  date,  and  in  other  re- 
spects the  most  remarkable.  Perhaps  it  wore  best  to 
begin  with  the  story  of  the  painter,  one  of  those  ro- 
mances which  enchant  us  in  the  histories  of  the  early 
artists.  It  reminds  us  of  the  story  of  the  Flemish 
blacksmith ;  but  Antonio  lo  Zingaro  sounds  better,  at 
least  more  musically,  in  a  love  tale,  than  Quinten  Mat- 
sys,  —  a  name  as  quaint  and  hard  as  one  of  his  own 
pictures.  Antonio  was  either  a  gypsy  by  birth,  or  he 
followed  the  usual  gypsy  profession,  — that  of  a  tinker 
or  smith  :  he  saw  and  loved  the  daughter  of  Col*  Anto- 
nio del'  Fiore ;  the  father  refused  his  consent,  but  ad- 
miring the  manly  character  and  good  looks  of  the  hand- 
some youth,  he  was  heard  to  say,  that  if  Antonio  had 
been  a  painter  he  would  have  given  him  his  daughter. 
On  this  hint  Antonio  left  Naples ;  changed,  as  Lanzi 


58     LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS, 

says,  his  forge  into  an  academy,  his  hammer  into  a 
pencil ;  placed  Iiimself  for  a  few  years  under  Lippo 
Dalmasio  of  Bologna ;  then,  at  Venice,  studied  the 
works  of  the  Vivarini ;  at  Florence,  those  of  the  Bicci 
and  Masaccio  ;  at  Rome,  those  of  Gentile  da  Fabriano  ; 
and  returning  to  Naples  in  1443,  he  claimed  the  love  and 
the  hand  of  the  fair  daughter  of  Col'  Antonio.  Shortly 
afterwards  he  painted  for  the  Benedictines  this  life  of 
their  great  founder,  in  the  very  convent  which>  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  had  been  endowed  by  Tertnllus,  the 
father  of  St.  Flacidus. 

The  series  begins  from  the  beginning,  and  all  the 
stories  represented  may  be  found  in  the  old  legend. 

1.  Benedict,  as  a  boy  of  about  seven  or  eight  years 
old,  journeys  from  Norcia  to  Rome.  A  mountain  ris- 
ing in  the  middle  divides  the  picture  into  two  parts  :  on 
one  side  is  the  city  of  Norcia,  on  the  other  a  distant 
view  of  Rome.  He  is  seen  on  horseback  accompanied 
by  his  father  Eutropius  ;  two  servants  armed  with 
lances  go  before,  and  his  nurse  Cyrilla,  mounted  on  a 
mule,  follows  behind. 

2.  On  his  flight  from  Rome,  he  arrives  at  Affide, 
and  is  received  before  the  church  of  St.  Peter  by  the 
men  of  the  place.  Behind  him  is  seen  his  nurse  Cy- 
rilla, who  has  followed  him  from  Rome. 

3.  Cyrilla,  occupied  in  preparing  food  for  her  chai^ge 
while  he  was  busied  in  his  devotions,  borrowed  fix)m  a 
neighbor  a  sieve  or  earthen  vessel  in  which  they  clean 
the  com ;  she  broke  it,  and  was  in  great  distress,  not 
having  money  wherewith  to  replace  it.  Benedict  by  a 
miracle  repaired  it.  In  this  picture  the  youthful  saint 
is  represented  at  prayers  in  his  chamber ;  Cyrilla  in 
front  holds  the  broken  sieve  ;  in  the  background  is  seen 
a  church,  and  over  the  door  the  country  people  have 
hung  the  sieve,  and  are  looking  at  it  with  admiration 
and  amazement.  The  broken  sieve  is  sometimes,  but 
not  often,  introduced  as  an  attribute  in  pictures  of  St. 
Benedict. 


ST.  BENEDICT. 


59 


To  the  left  of  this  composition  a  beautiful  woman  is 
seen  standing  at  a  balcony  smelling  at  a  sprig  of  myrtle ; 
it  is  the  portrait  of  the  daughter  of  Col'  Antonio  :  two 
doves  billing  upon  the  roof  above  are  supposed  to  al- 
lude to  the  recent  marriage  of  the  artist. 

4.  Benedict,  in  the  wilderness  of  Subiaco,  meets  Ro- 
mano.    He  puts  on  the  dress  of  a  hermit. 

5.  The  cave  at  Subiaco,  since  famous  as  b  sagro  Spe- 
CO ;  Benedict  seated  within  it  intently  reading ;  beside 
him  a  basket  tied  to  a  string  which  communicates  with 
a  bell  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  The  demon  is  busy 
cutting  the  string.  Various  wild  animals  around  ex- 
press the  solitude  of  the  place. 

6.  Bomano  the  hermit  dies,  and  Benedict  is  lefb  in 
his  cave  alone,  with  none  to  feed  him  or  care  for  him  ; 
but  absorbed  in  his  devotions,  he  is  unmindful  of  the 
wants  of  nature.  In  the  mean  time,  a  certain  priest  had 
prepared  himself  a  feast  for  Easter  day,  and  on  the  eve, 
as  he  slept  in  his  bed,  an  angel  said  to  him,  "  Thou 
hast  prepared  a  feast  for  thyself  while  my  servant  on 
yonder  mountain  dies  for  food."  When  the  priest  arose 
in  the  morning,  he  took  the  food  that  he  had  prepared 
for  himself  and  went  forth  to  seek  the  servant  of  Grod  ; 
and  after  a  long  search,  he  found  him  towards  the  even- 
ing in  his  solitary  cave,  and  he  said  unto  him,  "  Rise, 
brother,  let  us  eat,  for  this  is  Easter  day."  Benedict 
was  surprised,  for  he  had  dwelt  so  long  apart  from  men 
that  he  knew  not  what  day  it  was.  The  picture  repre- 
sents Benedict  and  the  priest  with  food  spread  before 
them  ;  in  the  background  is  seen  the  priest  asleep  in  his 
cell,  and  visited  by  the  divine  revelation.  « 

Guido  painted  in  the  cloisters  of  San-Michele-in-Bos- 
co,  the  peasants  bringing  their  oflFerings  to  the  cave  of 
St.  Benedict.  From  the  beauty  and  graceful  head- 
dress of  one  of  the  female  figures,  the  Italians  styled 
this  picture  la  Turbantina.  It  has  perished  like  the 
rest. 

7.  Benedict  in  his  solitude  is  tempted  by  recollections 
and  desires  which  disturb  his  devotions.     On  one  side 


6o     LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDES^ 

af  the  piciore  be  ia  seated  reading :  bo  makes  the  sign 
of  ihocrom  toclriv8n*ayaliillD  tilatkhird,  —  gf  courao 
(hu  demon  in  diai^tse,  —  wliicb,  horering  over  liU  book, 
perpetually  imermpts  him  li;iiu^;^eeiingBiuful  tliougliu. 
De  flinga  donn  hia  book,  leais  oft'  hit  gArmeat,  and 
llirow'3  himself  down  amidtt  tbe  ihonu  imd  the  nettles. 

8.  Benedict,  being  clioscn  Boperior  of  the  monaatcrj 
ne&r  Subioco,  r»ideavora  in  vain  to  reform  the  proilignEo 
monks.  In  return  thej  altempC  lo  poison  liim.  A 
monk  prceentB  the  cup  of  wiue,  fite  oiiien  BOnd  t)eliind 
with  hypocritical  fares.  The  ssiat  roieea  hia  hand  in 
beaGdicdoa  oier  the  cap,  which  is  Hceu  to  breuk. 

"  Tbo  seven  women  introdnced  into  che  roonaaiery 
to  tempt  Benediet  aud  hte  roinpanions,"  vaa  paint^ 
bj  Ludovico  Coracci  in  the  eeries  at  Bologaa,  but  in 
omitted  in  tlie  series  bj  Sobtrio. 

9.  The  reception  of  the  (wo  children.  Si.  Mannu 
stid  St.  Phicidou.  This,  in  tlie  Neapolitan  eeries,  is  a 
rich  aud  clianning  compoBition.  The  cbildien  are  Been 
habited  in  magoificeni  dreGBee,  and  with  glories  ronnd 
tliBir  beads.  The  two  fathers,  Anicius  and  Terttlllua, 
present  them.  They  ate  occompaniod  by  a  great  ret- 
inae of  soiVBQta  on  foot  and  on  Ijorseback,  with  hawka, 
dogs.  &&  Lo  Zingaro  has  incmdaced  hia  own  portrait 
at  Ibll  length  holding  liis  peneila,  and  heliiad  him,  bis 
imisler,  Lippo  Dalmasio  :  the  autbeniicily  of  these  por- 
traits gives  additional  value  to  the  picture. 

10.  A  certain  monk  in  one  of  the  dependent  cells  at 
Subiaco  was  always  iuatteucive  to  his  religious  duties, 
and,  at  the  hour  devoted  lo  mental  prayer,  was  seen  to 
juave  the  choir  and  wander  forth.  Benedict,  coming 
to  reprove  him,  sav>  that  he  was  led  forth  by  a  demon 
in  the  shnpo  »F  a  little  block  l>oy  who  pulled  him  by  Iha 
tt)be  (a  person ifieation  of  the  demon  of  slotli) ;  tliis 
demon,  liowevcr,  was  visible  lo  no  other  eyes  but  IboBO 
of  the  saint,  who,  following  the  monk,  toached  him  on 
the  shoulder  with  his  slatf  iind  exonr^cd  the  demon, 
who  from  that  bonr  troubled  the  siimor  nn  more. 

11.  Three  monks  come  tu  tompluiii  lu  IJoiiLiiict  thai 


ST.  BENEDICT.  6i 

(hre«  ont  of  tho  twolvo  mooasieriai  at  Snbiaco  are  in 
want  of  water.  Benectict  by  his  pmycra  pnn'nres  an 
Bibandanl  fountain,  which  gashes  fortii  and  Sows  like  a 
loiTCnt  downn  mountain  side.  'I'his  Bubjerc  is  particu- 
Urly  striking  m  tlie  fi:es<^oa  by  Spiaello,  in  tbo  Cliorcii 
of  San  Minialo. 

12.  A  Giotliic  peasant,  employed  in  felling  wood,  lota 
Iho  blodi!  of  hia  billhook  fall  into  the  taki^.  Benedict 
takes  the  handle  of  the  billhook,  puts  it  into  the  water, 
and  the  blade  riaes  miniCBloust;  from  the  bottom,  and 
unites  to  it.  The  disciple  Manrua,  beblcd,  looks  on 
with  BstoDishment, 

13.  St.  Placidos,  while  yet  a  child,  in  going  to  draw 
water,  &lla  into  the  lake ;  St.  Benedict,  who  is  praying 
in  hia  cell,  has  a  revelation  of  his  danger,  and  eeods 
Mannts  all  in  haitte  to  help  him  ;  Mannu  rushes  to  hia 
assistance,  treading  the  water  as  if  it  bad  been  dry  land. 
(Benedict  impnlcd  this  miracle  lo  llie  rcody  obedience 
and  unselfish  zeal  of  Manrus,  while  bis  disciple,  in  his 
hamililj,  insialod  that  ho  waa  miracnlonsly  enstained  by 
the  virtue  and  prayets  of  his  Superior.) 

14.  The  wicked  priest  Florentins,  bdng  filled  with 
jealoosy  and  envy  at  the  soperior  sanctity  of  Benedict, 
sent  him  a  poisoned  loaf.  Benedict,  aware  of  his 
treachery,  threw  the  loaf  upon  the  ground,  and  com- 
manded a  tame  raven,  which  was  domesticated  in  Che 
convent,  to  carry  it  away  oncl  place  it  lieyond  the  reach 
of  any  living  creature.  In  the  picture  the  scene  reprc- 
senta  the  refectory  of  the  convent :  on  one  side  Bcnedin 
IB  receiving  the  poisoned  toof,  on  the  otlicc  side  tlie 
raven  is  seen  flying  throagh  the  window  witli  it  in  liis 
beak.  In  the  background  Florentins  is  seen  cruehod 
to  death,  by  the  walls  of  hia  honao  felling  on  him. 

15.  Benedict  is  seen  preaching  to  the  people  near 
Monte  Cossino.  In  the  background,  on  the  top  of  the 
hill,  is  the  temple  of  Apollo,  and  Benedict  flings  down 
the  idol. 

16.  He  founds  the  monaeteiy  of  Monte  Cossino. 
The  demon  endeavors  to  retard  tbo  work,  anil 


■J^ 


6a    LEGEMjS  of  TBE  MONASTIC  ORDi 

himself  OD  [lie  lop  of  a  large  stone  reqiured  Ear  the 
building,  K>  that  no  tinman  power  avails  lo  move  It 
from  il3  place.  In  the  picture,  ECveral  monks  with 
long  Icverii  aro  endeavoring  lo  move  a.  great  etotie :  St. 
Benedli^t  kneels  in  the  foiegronnd,  imd  at  his  pntjer  Ibe 
demon  tohes  to  Qighl.  ('Die  rompositioQ  of  this  sub- 
ject, bj  Spsda,  is  famous,  and  has  been  engraved.) 

IT.  Ooaof  tliQ  mouka  who  was  assisting  in  tlie  baild- 
ing  of  the  monastery  Is  crushed  to  deal  h.  He  is  brought 
to  the  feat  of  8t.  Benediet,  who  recalhi  liini  ro  life. 

Id  digging  the  (bundaiions  of  the  moDBBtcT;  of  Monte 
Casgino,  thcj  discover  an  idol  of  bronze,  from  which 
issues  a  eupematuiBl  lire  which  threatons  to  dc«tro;  the 
whole  edifice.  St.  Benedict  perceives  at  onre  that  this 
iR  a  delosion  of  the  enemf,  and  M  his  prayer  It  dii- 
^ipears.   This  subject  is  not  in  the  series  hy  LoZingaro. 

18.  Tofila,  tho  king  of  the  Gotha,  visits  St.  Benedict 
in  hia  monastery.  lie  is  prostrate  at  (he  feet  of  the 
8UDt,  while  his  narrioia  and  bis  attendants  are  seen 
behind.* 

19.  The  sick  child  restored  at  the  prayer  of  its  par- 
ents ;  B  frequent  sobject. 

SO.  St.  Benedict  visits  his  sister  Sebolaetica,  and  they 
spend  the  day  in  spiritual  diaconrae  and  commnnion. 
"  And  wlien  die  night  approached,  ScholasCica  besought 
her  brother  not  to  leave  her ;  but  he  refused  her  request, 

•  Anil  TnUls,  king  nflheOoIhB.hEBrlagthUBiiiiedlDliKiuHMd 


5d  trapi^n  j> !  thee  are  dot  tl 
iiBBQiDed  cat  to  appriQCh,  bi 


ST,  BENEDICT.  63 

saying,  that  it  was  not  right  to  remain  all  night  from 
his  convent.  Thereupon  Scholastica,  who  had  a  secret 
feeling  that  her  end  was  approaching,  and  that  she 
should  never  see  him  more,  bent  down  her  head  upon 
her  folded  hands,  and  prayed  to  Grod  for  the  power  to 
persuade  her  brother ;  and,  behold,  the  heavens,  which 
till  that  moment  had  been  cloudless,  were  immediately 
overcast ;  and  there  arose  such  a  tempest  of  thunder  and 
lightning  and  rain,  that  it  was  impossible  for  Benedict 
and  his  attendant  to  leave  the  house,  and  he  remained 
with  his  sister  in  prayer  and  holy  converse  till  the  morn- 
ing." (This  subject  also  is  omitted  in  the  series  by  Lo 
Zingaro.) 

21.  Three  days  afterwards,  St.  Benedict,  standing 
rapt  in  prayer,  beheld  the  released  soul  of  his  sister,  in 
the  form  of  a  dove,  flying  towards  heaven. 

The  death  of  St.  Scholastica  has  been  painted  by 
Luca  Giordano. 

22.  St.  Benedict  dies  at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  Two 
of  his  disciples  behold  at  the  same  moment  the  selfsame 
vision :  they  see  a  path  or  a  ladder  extending  upwards 
towards  heaven  strewed  with  silken  draperies,  and  lamps 
on  either  side  burning  along  it ;  and  on  the  summit  the 
Virgin  and  the  Saviour  in  glory.  And  while  they  won- 
dered, a  voice  said  to  them,  **  Wliat  path  is  that  ?  "  and 
they  said,  "  We  know  not."  And  the  voice  answering, 
again  said,  "  That  is  the  path  by  which  Benedict  the 
Beloved  of  God  is  even  now  ascending  to  Heaven." 
So  they  knew  that  he  was  dead. 

The  following  curious  and  picturesque  legend  seems 
to  have  been  invented  as  a  parable  against  idle  and 
chattering  nuns. 

Two  ladies  of  an  illustrious  family  had  joined  the 
sisterhood  of  St.  Scholastica.  Though  in  other  respects 
exemplary  and  faithful  to  their  religious  profession, 
they  were  much  given  to  scandal  and  vain  talk  ;  which 
being  told  to  St.  Benedict,  it  displeased  him  greatly ; 
and  he  sent  to  them  a  message,  that  if  they  did  not  re* 


64    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS, 

finain  their  tongaes  aod  set  a  better  example  to  the  com* 
monitj  he  would  excommnnicate  them.  The  nnns 
were  at  first  alarmed  and  penitent,  and  promised  amend- 
ment ;  bat  the  habit  was  too  strong  for  their  good  re- 
solves ;  they  continued  their  vain  and  idle  talking,  and, 
in  the  midst  of  their  folly,  they  died.  And  being  of 
great  and  noble  lineage,  they  were  buried  in  the  church 
near  the  altar ;  and  afterwards,  on  a  certain  day,  as  St. 
Benedict  solemnized  mass  at  that  altar,  and  at  the 
moment  when  the  officiating  deacon  uttered  the  usual 
Words,  "  Let  those  who  are  excommunicated,  and  for- 
bidden to  partake,  depart  and  leave  us  ** ;  behold !  the 
two  nuns  rose  up  from  their  graves,  and  in  the  sight  of 
all  the  people,  with  faces  drooping  and  averted,  they 
glided  out  of  the  church.  And  thus  it  happened  every 
time  that  the  mass  was  celebrated  there,  until  St.  Bene- 
dict, taking  pity  upon  them,  absolved  them  from  their 
sins,  and  they  rested  in  peace. 

This  most  rich  and  picturesque  subject,  called  by  the 
Italians  "  le  Suore  morte"  was  painted  by  Lucio  Mas- 
sari,  in  the  series  at  Bologna.  Richardson  mentions 
it  with  praise  as  equal  to  any  of  those  by  his  master, 
Ludovico,  or  his  competitor,  Guido ;  he  calls  it  "  the 
dead  nuns  coming  out  of  their  tombs  to  hear  mass." 
The  fresco  has  perished ;  and  the  engraving  in  Patina's 
work  does  not  give  a  high  idea  of  it  as  a  composition. 

The  above  detailed  description  of  a  series  of  subjects 
from  the  life  of  St.  Benedict  will  be  found  useful ;  for 
in  general,  however  varied  in  treatment,  the  selection 
of  scenes  and  incidents  has  been  nearly  the  same  in 
every  example  I  can  recollect,  and  some  of  them  may 
be  found  separately  treated. 


ST.  ILDEFONSO. 


This  eaJot,  fiunons  in  the  Spanish  hierarcliT,  ami 
hardly  less  Gimous  in  Spanish  nrt,  waa  a  Beneilii^tine, 
and  one  o(  tlie  (srlicBt  of  tho  Unlor  in  Spain;  ha  hu- 
rame  Archbishop  of  Toledo  in  657,  and  died  in  667. 
Hq  wrote  a  book  in  defence  of  the  perpetual  virginity 
of  tite  Holy  Vlrpn,  which  some  heretics  had  questioned, 
and  in  ponBcqnooca  the  Holy  Virgin  —  conld  she  do 
less? — regarded  him  with  especial  favor.  Once  oa  a 
time  when  St.  Udcfnnso  waa  enloriog  his  cathedral  nC 
the  head  of  a  lotdnight  procession,  he  perceived  the 
b^h  alDir  BurTDQudud  by  a  blaze  of  light.  Ho  alono 
of  all  the  clergy  ventured  to  approach,  and  found  the 
Vii^n  herself  Boated  on  his  ivorv  cpiACO[ial  throne  and 
sarrounded  by  a  multitude  of  angels,  chanting  a  solemn 
servico  from  the  psalter.  Ho  bowed  to  the  ground  bo- 
fore  the  heavenly  vision,  and  the  Virj^n  thus  addressed 
him  :  "  Coma  hither,  moat  faithful  aervant  of  God,  and 
Teceive  this  robe,  which  1  have  brought  thee  from  the 
trcasnry  of  toy  Son."  Then  be  knelt  before  her,  and 
she  threw  over  him  a  chasuble  or  cassock  of  heavenly 
tissue,  which  was  adjnalod  on  bis  «honIdcrs  by  tha 
attendant  angels.  From  that  night  the  ivory  chair 
remained  unoccupied  and  the  celestial  veatment  unworn, 
nntil  the  days  of  the  presumptuoos  Archbishop  Sisi- 
berto,  who  died  miserably  in  consequence  of  sealing 
himself  in  the  one,  and  attemptiog  to  array  himself  in 


This  incident  hi 


n  the  subject  of  two  mognilii 


1.   (Madrid  Gal,,  a.  d.  267.)     "Murillo  has  repro- 
sental  tho  Virgin  and  two  angula  about  to  invest 
kneeling  suint  ujth  the  splendid  chasuble ;  ulher 
gels  stand  or  hover  aiuund  and  above ;   and  behind 


^ 


66    LEGENUS  OF  TBE  MOSASTIC  ORbESm 

prelate  (faere  kneela,  with  less  hisioriool  correctnem,  k 
Tenemhlo  iran,  holding  in  her  hand  ■  wHxm  tapor. 
The  Virgin  and  the  an;;;el  on  her  left  hand  arc  lovciy 
cDDcepdong,  tuid  Ibo  richlj  embroidered  ehasable  in 
moet  hrilliancly  and  carefullj  painted.  The  repatalioii 
of  Ihi»  pictura  hsfl  been  KStpndod  bj  the  escellenl  grav- 
er of  Fernando  Selma."  (Stlrllng'ii  Bp.  Painters.)  A 
good  itnprBHiion  is  in  the  Britiah  Mnseeni. 

S.  The  seMind  (Hctnre  wan  painted  bj  Rnbens  (Vi- 
enna Imp,  Gal.) ;  it  is  an  nlUir-piece  with  iwo  wings : 
in  the  centre,  the  Virgin  ie  sealed  on  the  episcopel 
Ihnjna  attended  by  four  angola,  before  her  kneels  Si. 
Ildefonso,  and  reccivei  from  her  bands  the  sacred  vcgt- 
meni.  On  the  right  side  kneels  the  orehduke  Albert, 
attended  by  hia  patron,  St.  Albert;  and  ou  the  left 
wing,  the  arebduchOM-iafanta,  Clara  laabella  Eogenia 
(danghter  of  Philip  IL),  who  ia  slCended  bj  St.  Ckra. 


e  of  St.  Ildefonso  is  a  subject  of  fre- 
quent oeearrcnre :  llicro  are  two  or  three  examptex  in 
the  Spanish  Gallery  of  the  Louvre.  There  is  another 
curious  legend  of  St.  Hdcfonsa  wbieh  has  furnished  a 
subject  for  tlie  Spanish  artists.  This  was  a  vision  of 
St.  Leocadia,  to  whom  ho  had  vowed  a  particular  wor- 
ship, and  who  rose  out  of  lier  sepulchre  clad  in  a  Span- 
ish mantilla,  in  order  to  infonn  St.  Udefonso  of  the 
favor  with  which  the  Virgin  regarded  the  treatise  he 
had  writtGO  ia  her  praise  \  he  hod  just  time  liefore  she 
disappaarcd  lo  out  off  a  comer  of  lier  mantilla,  which 
was  long  prosorvod  io  her  chapel  at  Toledo  as  a  most 
precious  relic.  Mr.  Ford  mentions  with  admiralion 
the  bas-reliefs  by  Felise  de  Vigamy  representing  the 
principal  eveots  in  tho  lift  of  St-  Ldefonso,  which  wore 
executed  in  the  reign  of  Charles  V.,  about  IGIO. 


St.  Bavos  is  interesting,  as  we  have  a  fino  sketch 
□r  him  in  our  National  Gallery  ;  and  TDnnj  piclnrea  of 
iiiin  exist  in  the  chnrthea  at  Boigium. 

lie  was  a,  nobleman,  some  eaj  a  duke,  of  Brabant, 
anii  was  bomabont  tbe  year  589  :  after  living  fornenriy 
fifty  years  a,  very  worldly  and  dissipoteil  lifa,  and  being 
left  a  widower,  bo  was  moved  to  compunction  by  tin 
preaching  of  St.  Amand,  Uie  npoatle  of  Bolginm  anil 
first  bishop  of  Maastricht,  Withdrawing  himself  fram 
hia  former  aaaueiates,  Bavon  bestowed  all  hia  gooda 
in  charity,  and  thGii  repaired  to  St.  Amand,  who  re- 
ceived him  as  a  penitent,  and  placed  hioi  in  a  monaa- 
tery  at  Ghent.  Bat  ibis  state  of  penaneo  and  seclnslon 
did  not  suSice  to  St.  Bavon  :  he  look  np  hia  abode  in  B 
boUow  tree  in  the  forent  of  Malmedun  near  Ghent,  and 
there  he  lived  as  a  hennit ;  his  only  food  being  the  wild 
herhs,  and  "  hia  drink  tlie  crystal  well."  He  i><  said  to 
have  died  in  his  hermitngo,  soroewherE  about  tlie  year 
657. 

In  the  old  Flemish  prints  and  pictures  he  is  repre- 
sented cither  as  a  hermit,  seated  and  praying  in  a  hol- 
low tree ;  or  as  a  prince,  in  armor,  and  with  a  falcon 
on  his  hand.  Among  the  penancea  he  tmpoaed  on 
hiuiiieirwas  that  of  carrying  a  hngo  stone,  emblematical 
of  the  burden  of  his  aina,  which  is  sometimea  introduced 
as  an  attribute.  Tho  chapol  erected  in  his  honor  is  now 
the  cathedral  of  Ghent,  for  which  Rubens  painted  the 
great  attar-piece.  It  rcprcaenlB  the  saint  in  his  seculac 
costnmo  of  a  knight  and  a  noblo,  proaanting  himself  be- 
fore Amand,  bishop  of  Maestricht ;  he  is  aseendiug  cha 
Bicpa  of  a  church  ;  Amand  standi  above,  under  a  porti. 
ro,  and  lower  down  ore  seen  the  poor  to  whom  St. 
Bavon  baa  distributed  all  hia  worldly  goods,      Tho 


68    LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

oripnal  sketch  for  this  composition  (London  Nat.  Gal.) 
id  t!ic  more  valuable  because  of  the  horrible  ill  treat- 
ment which  the  large  picture  has  received  firom  the 
hands  of  a  succession  of  restorers.  I  find  also  the 
following  representations  of  this  saint :  — 

1 .  St.  Biivon  in  his  ducal  robes,  with  a  falcon  on  his 
hand  ;  statue  over  the  door  of  the  cathedral  at  Ghent. 
(G.  Huge,  Sculp.) 

2.  St.  Bavon  in  armor,  with  the  falcon  on  his  hand. 
(Eng.  J.  Matham.) 

3.  The  slave  of  a  nobleman,  being  possessed  or  mad, 
is  restored  by  St.  Bavon.  The  nobleman,  in  a  balcony 
behind,  looks  down  on  the  scene.  (Jordaens.  Eng.) 

There  is  a  story  of  St.  Bavon  which  I  do  not  re- 
member to  have  seen  represented,  and  which  would  be 
a  beautiful  subject  for  a  picture.  (Gnizot,  Hist,  de  la 
Civ.  Fr.)  It  is  related  that  St.  Bavon,  one  day 
after  his  conversion,  beheld  coming  towards  him  a  man 
who  had  formerly  been  his  slave,  and  whom  he  had, 
for  some  remissness  in  his  service,  beaten  rigorous- 
ly and  sold  to  another  master.  And  at  the  sight  of 
him  who  had  been  his  bondman,  the  Man  of  God  was 
seized  with  an  agony  of  grief  and  remorse,  and  fell 
down  at  his  feet  and  said,  <<  Behold,  I  am  he  who  sold 
thee,  bound  in  leathern  thongs,  to  a  new  master ;  but, 
O  my  brother  I  I  beseech  thee  remember  not  my  sin 
against  thee,  and  grant  me  this  prayer !  Bind  me  now 
hand  and  foot ;  beat  me  with  stripes ;  shave  my  head, 
and  cast  me  into  prison  :  make  me  suffer  all  I  inflicted 
on  thee,  and  then  perchance  the  Lord  will  have  mercy 
and  forget  my  great  sin  that  I  have  committed  against 
him  and  against  thee  !  "  And  the  bondman,  hearing 
these  words,  was  astonished,  and  he  refused  to  lay 
hands  on  the  Man  of  God,  his  former  master ;  but  St. 
Bavon  insisted  the  more,  and  at  last,  after  much  en- 
treaty and  many  arguments,  he  yielded ;  and  he  took 
the  Man  of  God  and  bound  him,  and  shaved  his  head, 
and  cast  him  into  the  public  prison,  where  he  remained 
for  a  certain  time^  deploring  day  and  night  the  crime 


8T,  GILES.  69 

he  had  committed  against  his  human  and  Christian 
brother. 

In  this  legend,  as  M.  Goizot  well  observes,  the  ex- 
aggeration of  the  details  is  of  no  importance ;  even  the 
truth  of  the  recital,  as  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  is  of  little 
consequence.  The  importance  of  the  moral  lies  in  this; 
that  the  story  was  penned  in  the  seventh  century;  that 
it  was  related  to  the  men  of  the  seventh  century,  to 
those  who  had  incessantly  before  their  eyes  the  evils, 
the  iniquities,  the  sufferings  of  slavery ;  it  was  a  protest 
in  the  name  of  the  religion  of  Christ  against  such  a 
state  of  things,  and  probably  assisted  in  the  great  work 
of  the  abolition  of  slavery,  begun  by  Pope  Gregory  the 
Great,  in  604. 

St.  Giles. 

loot.  Sanctus  ^gidins.  Ital.  Sant'  Egidio.  Fr,  Saint  Gilles. 
Sp.  San  Oil.  Patron  saint  of  tlie  woodland.  Patron  saint  of 
Edinburgh ;  of  Joliers  in  Flanders.  Sept  1,  725.  Attribute  } 
— a  wounded  hind. 


**  Ane  Hynde  setup  beside  Sanct  Geill.*' 

&R  David  Lindsay. 


This  renowned  saint  is  one  of  those  whose  celebrity 
bears  no  proportion  whatever  to  his  real  importance. 
I  shall  give  his  legend  in  a  few  words.  He  was  an 
Athenian  of  royal  blood,  and  appears  to  have  been  a 
saint  by  natare ;  for  one  day  on  going  into  the  churchy 
he  found  a  poor  sick  man  extended  upon  the  pave- 
ment; St.  Giles  thereupon  took  off  his  mantle  and 
spread  it  over  him,  when  the  man  was  immediately 
healed.  This  and  other  miracles  having  attracted  the 
veneration  of  the  people,  St.  Giles  fled  from  his  country 
and  turned  hermit ;  he  wandered  from  one  solitude  to 
another  until  he  came  to  a  retired  wilderness,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Rhone,  about  twelve  miles  to  the  south 
of  Nismes.     Here  he  dwelt  in  a  cave,  by  the  side  of  a 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS 

elur  spring,  living  upon  the  herbs  and  ttaia  of  the 
forest,  itnd  upon  the  milk  of  a.  hind,  which  had  taken 
up  ITS  abode  with  him-  "Sow  it  caniB  to  paaa  Ihat  the 
king  of  FrancD  {or,  Hrnirdin^  to  sonther  legend,  Worn* 
Im,  kin^  of  tlis  OntiiG)  vaa  hanting  in  ibe  tl<:ightx>r]ioDd, 
and  the  hind,  parsuod  by  ilie  dogs,  fled  to  the  cavern 
vf  ttie  saint,  and  touk  refuge  in  liis  turns;  the  liuDlera 
lot  Oj  ta  arrow,  anil,  following  on  Ilie  track,  were  «ir- 
prised  to  fiud  a  vcnerelile  old  idbh,  sealed  there  with 
iho  hind  in  his  arms,  wliich  tiie  arrow  liod  pierced 
through  his  luuid.  Thereupon  the  king  and  his  follow- 
ers, perceiving  that  it  was  a  holy  man,  prostrated  them- 
selves before  him,  and  eatreateil  foi^veness. 

The  saint,  resisting  all  tlie  attempts  of  the  king  Co 
withdraw  him  from  his  solilnde,  died  in  bis  cave.  But 
the  place  liecoming  aaactiQcd  bj  tiie  extteme  veaeratiDa 
which  the  people  horo  to  his  memory,  there  arose  on  the 
spot  a  magnificent  monastery,  and  around  it  a  populous 
city  bearing  his  name  and  giving  the  same  title  to  the 
Counts  of  Lower  lAnguedoc,  who  were  styled  Comtos 
do  Ssiot-Gilles. 

The  abbey  of  St.  Giles  was  one  of  the  greatest  of 
the  Benedictine  comniunitiea,  and  the  aliboia  woro 
powerful  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  lordE,  Of  the 
two  splendid  churches  which  existed  here,  one  boa 
been  utterly  destroyed,  the  other  remains  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  monuments  of  the  middle  ages  now 
existing  in  France.  It  was  built  in  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury ;  the  portico  is  considered  as  the  most  perfect  type 
of  the  Byzantine  style  on  (his  side  of  the  Alps,  and  the 
whole  of  the  exterior  of  the  church  is  descrilied  as  one 
mass  of  baa-Telie(a,  In  the  interior,  among  other  curi- 
osities of  antique  art,  must  be  mentioned  an  exiraordi- 
rairy  winding  ataircaso  of  stone,  the  construction  of 
which  is  considered  a  miracle  of  skill,* 

St.  Giles  has  been  especially  venerated  in  England 

•  Thia  Btalraua,  called  in  the  counOy  "  Lb  ria  fle  Saint  OIllEa," 


8T.  BENoIt  D'ANIANE.  71 

and  Scodand.  In  1117,  Matilda,  wife  of  Henrj  I., 
fbanded  an  hospital  for  lepers  oatside  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, which  she  dedicated  to  St.  Giles,  and  which  has 
since  giyen  its  name  to  an  extensive  parish.  The  parish 
chnrch  of  Edinhnrgh  existed  under  the  invocation  of  St. 
Giles  as  early  as  1359.  And  still,  in  spite  of  the  Reform 
mation,  this  popular  saint  is  retained  in  our  calendar. 

He  is  represented  as  an  aged  man  with  a  long  white 
beard,  and  a  hind  pierced  by  an  arrow  is  either  in  his 
arms  or  at  his  feet.  Sometimes  the  arrow  is  in  his  own 
bosom,  and  the  hind  is  fawning  on  him.  In  pictures  his 
habit  is  usually  white,  because  such  pictures  date  sub- 
sequently to  the  period  when  the  abbey  of  St.  Giles  be- 
came the  property  of  the  reformed  Benedictines,  who 
had  adopted  the  white  habit. 

Bepresentations  of  St.  Giles  are  seldom  met  with  in 
Italy,  but  frequently  in  early  French  and  German  art.* 


A  very  influential  character  of  his  time  was  St.  Ben- 
edict OF  Anian,  better  known  by  his  French  name. 
Saint  Benoit  d'Aniane. 

He  was  a  Goth  by  race,  a  native  of  Maguelonne  in 
Languedoc ;  and  his  name  before  he  assumed  that  of 
Benedict  is  not  known.  His  father  sent  him  in  his 
childhood  to  the  court  of  king  Pepin-le-Bref,  where  he 
was  first  page  and  then  cupbearer,  and  distinguished 
himself  as  a  military  commander  under  Charlemagne. 
In  the  year  774  we  find  him  a  monk  in  the  abbey  of 
St.  Seine,  having  been  converted  to  a  religions  life  by 
a  narrow  escape  from  drowning.  Having  vainly  en- 
deavored to  reform  the  monks  of  his  monastery,  we  next 

*  "  St.  Giles  standing  in  a  transport  of  religious  ecstasy  before 
Pope  Qr^ory  IX.,**  painted  by  Murillo  for  the  Franciscan  convent 
1^  Sieville,  is  cited  by  Mr.  Sterling  \  Artists  of  Spain^  p.  836)  as 
**  St.  Giles,  the  patron  of  the  Greenwood,"  but  it  represents  a  very 
different  person ;  a  St.  Giles,  more  poperly  il  Beato  Egidio,  who 
was  one  of  the  early  followers  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  and  conse-  i 

quently  wears  the  habit  and  cord  of  St.  Francis.    The  picture  la 
aow  in  Bngland. 


flnil  bim  a  «o1ilai7  herxDil  oo  ttie  banks  of  tho  AtiB 
witich  Hovrod  ihrougli  the  ilbn'irt  in  nhicb  he  wns  born. 
A  numliei  at  wmpoiiionB  congregated  uroaiid  him,  aud 
lio  was  enablod  to  ronstnitt  an  citenBi™  moniute>7. 
iiilu  which  he  introdQcud  the  BencdictiDe  rule  in  all  in 
liristine  severity. 

from  Langnedoc  ho  was  called  b;  Loais-le-Dution- 
nnini  lo  Aix-ta-Cliapellc,  where  he  assistud  id  the  foun- 
dalion  of  a  large  mooaatcrj  near  that  dty,  tlie  rapitnl  of 
Clinrlemagno  and  his  Baccccsore ;  and  we  find  him  aflei^ 
wiLTds  presiding  in  a  coannil  held  especially'  for  tlic  re- 
funn  of  the  moimstic  ordera.  At  this  time  vas  pro- 
malEfatcd  a  commenlar;  upon  the  original  Rule,  which 
M.  Guimt  characieriie*  as  gubstilnting  narrow  and  ser- 
vile  forms  for  the  large  and  aulightened  spirit  of  the 
first  tbnnder. 

As  this  Saint  Benoit  d'Aniane  had  a  great  r^outlion 
for  sanctiTy,  cffi^ctt  of  him  probably  pxiBtcd,  unil  if  not 
destroyed,  may  still  exist,  in  the  eburches  of  Langaedoc 
I  have  met  with  bnt  one  Italian  pictnro  in  wMdi  he  is 
represented.  It  commemorates  the  great  incident  <' 
his  life,  —  (be  conversion  of  St.  William  of  Aqnitain& 
This  Wimam  was  Dako  of  Aqaitoine  in  the  timB  of 
Charlemagne,  and  a  bmous  varrior  and  statesman  of 
that  day.  Among  other  exploits,  he  obtained  a  ognld 
victory  over  Iho  Saracens,  who  about  that  period  vrera 
ravaging  the  Sonth  of  Fninre.  Conretled  by  ttw 
preaching  and  admonition  of  St.  Benedict  d'Aniane,  be 
withdrew  from  the  world,  and  became  a  prolieBsed  monk 
in  a  monastery  which  he  had  himself  erected  ;  be  re- 
ceived the  habit  from  the  hands  of  St.  Benoit,  and  died 
a  few  years  afterwards  in  the  odor  of  sanctity, 

St.  William  of  Aqoitaine  receiving  the  monastic  babil 
from  St.  Benedict,  ia  the  subjooi  of  a  pictnre  by  Gnet 
eino,  now  in  tlio  Academy  at  Bologna.  The  abbot  il 
seated  on  a  throne,  and  St.  William,  who  knoels  bcfbre 
him,  is  in  the  act  of  laying  aside  his  helmet  and  cni- 

Scparate  fictnres  of  this  St.  William  of  Ai^uitain^ 


8T.  NILU8  OF  GROTTA  FERRATA,       73 

whose  conversion  is  regarded  as  a  great  honor  to  the 
Benedictines,  are  often  foand  in  the  edifices  of  the  Or- 
der. In  general  he  is  represented  in  armor,  or  in  a 
monk's  habit,  with  his  armor  and  ducal  crown  lying 
beside  him.  There  is  a  fine  half-length  of  St.  William, 
attributed  to  Giorgione,  at  Hampton  Court. 

A  curious  old  print  in  the  British  Museum  represents 
St.  WUliam  kneeling,  wearing  a  magnificent  helmet ; 
his  breviary  on  the  ground,  while  his  clasped  hands  em- 
brace a  standard  :  behind  him  is  a  shield,  on  which  are 
three  fieur-de-lys  and  three  crescents ;  the  latter,  I  sup- 
pose, in  allusion  to  his  victories  over  the  Saracens. 

There  is  a  print  after  Lanfranco,  representing  the 
death  of  St.  William  :  the  blessed  Virgin  herself  brings 
the  holy  water,  a  female  saint  dips  her  fingers  into  it, 
and  an  angel  sustains  him  ;  in  the  background  the  de- 
mons flee  in  consternation.  He  died  in  812  or  813 ; 
and  St.  Benedict  d'Aniane  in  821. 


St.  Nilus  op  Gkotta  Fekrata. 

Ital.  San  Nilo.     Fr.  Saint  Nil  le  jenne.    Sept.  26,  1002. 

The  name  of  this  obscure  Greek  monk  is  connected 
in  a  very  interesting  manner  with  the  history  of  art,  and 
his  story  is  mixed  up  with  some  of  the  most  striking 
episodes  in  the  history  of  mediaeval  Rome ;  but  among 
the  thousands  of  travellers,  artists,  students,  and  critics 
who  have  thronged  his  beautiful  chapel  at  Grotta  Per* 
rata  during  the  last  two  hundred  years,  how  few  have 
connected  its  pictured  glories  there  with  the  deep  'hu« 
man  interests  of  which  they  are  the  record  and  the 
monument  1 

St.  Nilus  was  a  Greek  of  Calabria,  bom  near  Taren- 
tum.  He  was  a  man  of  a  gentle  and  melancholy 
temperament,  who,  after  many  years  of  an  active  exist- 
ence, and  the  loss  of  a  wife  whom  he  had  tenderly 
loved,  embraced  in  his  old  age  a  religious  life :  he  became 


I 


-4    LHUKNUa  OF  THE-  M0.VA8TIC  ORVL-JlSj^ 

B  monk  of  the  Greek  Onlcr  of  St.  Basil,  and,  throng" 
Ilia  virtoea  uiil  lii>  intellectual  auperiority^,  in  a  few 
yciu^  be  wsa  pWtHi  U  the  h«u)  of  liis  commaaUy.  Ad 
invonioii  of  tbe  SarBrcns  drove  hint  froin  the  East  to 
Iho  Weel  of  Italy.  II"  flwi  lo  Capoa,  and  tlicre  took 
rufugo  in  ibe  Bcncdli'iinc  ronvcni  of  MonK  Cnuino, 
whore  ho  ivbs  tvccivml  with  nil  reteraiicc  an<l  honor. 
There  he  coin]K>3Ud  (ircek  liyiqns  in  honor  of  St.  Bens- 
ilict,  and  the  ahhot  oasigned  lo  him  and  hit  fugitive 
limtlterhood  a  small  ciniTCtit  dcpeodcut  on  Monte  Cai- 

Pandolfo,  prinra  of  Capaa,  left  a  widon*,  Aloare, 
who  at  tills  time  ^lemcd  in  right  of  hor  two  sons. 
She  had  inatigotcd  thtse  youths  to  murder  theittMDusin, 
a  powerliil  and  vinuoiu  noble ;  and  now.  tortunsd  hy 
remorse,  and  learfal  for  the  conseqaences  lo  them,  elie 
Beat  for  St.  Nilus,  confoaaed  her  crime,  and  eDtrcaied 
absolution :  ho  lefasod  to  giro  it,  but  upon  conditian 
that  che  should  yield  up  one  of  her  ions  to  the  family 
of  ihti  murdered  man,  to  bs  dealt  wiib  oa  they  should 
think  fit,  a»  the  only  real  expiation  abc  could  make. 
The  gnill;  mother  wept,  and  coald  not  resolve  on  the 
aaclilice.  Niloa  then,  with  nil  the  sCTcrily  and  dignity 
of  a  prophet,  donoum-ed  her  sin  aa  nnfor^lven,  and  told 
ber  that  the  ex[UBtion  ahe  hod  i«Fiiacd  at  her  own  free 
will  woold  erelong  be  exacted  from  her.  The  princess, 
terrified,  entreated  him  to  inleroedo  for  tier,  and  en- 
deavored to  force  upon  him  a  snm  of  money.  Niliw 
flung  the  gold  upon  llie  earth,  aod,  turning  from  her, 
ehal  himself  up  in  his  cell.  Shortly  afterwards  ^ 
younger  of  the  two  princes  sssasHinnted  his  brother  in  k 
church,  and  for  tliis  Bocrilcgious  fratridda  be  wai  him- 
self put  to  death  by  order  of  Hugh  Capet,  king  of 
Fmnce'. 

Nilna  then  quitted  the  territory  of  Capua  (a.  n.  SX), 
nnd  took  up  his  msideuce  at  Rome,  in  the  convent  <^ 
Hl  Alexis  an  the  Avcntine,  whither  those  who  were 
diseased  in  body  and  mtud  repaired  to  the  good  saint 
ir  help  and  solace  ;  and  many  were  the  mitnclea  and 


ST,  NILU8  OF  GROTTA  FERRATA.       75 

cores  wronght  by  his  intercession :  among  others,  the 
cure  of  a  poor  epileptic  boy. 

Rome  was  at  this  time  distracted  by  factions  :  the 
authority  of  the  emperors  of  the  East  had  been  long  set 
aside ;  that  of  the  emperors  of  the  West  was  not  yet  es- 
tablished. The  famous  Crescentius  had  been  declared 
consul,  and  for  a  time,  under  his  wise  and  firm  admin- 
istration, liberty,  order,  and  peace  reigned  in  the  city. 
John  XVI.,  a  Greek  by  birth,  and  an  intimate  friend  of 
St.  Nilus,  was  then  pope.  On  a  sudden,  the  young 
emperor,  Otho  III.,  appeared  in  Italy  at  the  head  of 
his  barbarous  legions ;  declared  a  relation  of  his  own 
pope,  under  the  name  of  Gregory  V. ;  put  out  the  eyes 
of  the  anti-pope  John,  and  besieged  Crescentius  in  the 
castle  of  St.  Angelo.  After  a  short  resistance,  Crescen- 
tius yielded  on  honorable  terms ;  but  had  no  sooner 
given  up  the  fortress,  than  the  faithless  emperor  ordered 
him  to  be  seized,  flung  headlong  from  the  walls,  and 
his  wife  Stephanie  was  abandoned  to  the  outrages  of  the 
soldiers. 

In  the  midst  of  these  horrors,  Otho  and  the  new  pope 
endeavored  to  conciliate  Nilus,  whose  virtues  and  whose 
reputation  for  sanctity  had  given  him  great  power  over 
the  people  :  but  the  old  man  rebuked  them  both  as  en- 
emies of  God.  He  wrote  to  the  emperor  a  letter  of  re- 
proach, concluding  with  these  words :  "  Because  ye  have 
broken  faith,  and  because  ye  have  had  no  mercy  for  the 
vanquished,  nor  compassion  for  those  who  had  no  longer 
the  power  to  injure  or  resist,  kuow  that  God  will  avenge 
the  cause  of  the  oppressed,  and  ye  shall  both  seek  mercy 
and  shall  not  find  it.''  Having  despatched  this  letter, 
he  shook  the  dust  from  his  feet,  and  departed  the  same 
night  from  Rome.  He  took  refuge  first  in  a  cell  near 
Graeta,  and  afterwards  in  a  solitary  cavern  near  Fras- 
cati,  called  the  Cryptaj  or  Grotta  Ferrata. 

Within  two  years  Pope  Gregory  died  in  some  mis- 
erable manner,  and  Otho,  terrified  by  remorse  and  the 
denunciations  of  St.  Nilus,  undertook  a  pilgrimage 
to  Monte  Galgano.     On  his  return  he  paid  a  visit  ta 


I 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.' 

Nilne  in  bie  hermicagc  at  Fnucati,  and,  fulling  oi 
knees,  besought  the  praycT^  and  intcrcesaion  of  tlic : 
He  oflcred  to  otvct,  icslcud  of  liis  poor  oruory,  a  mni;- 
niflcent  conTenl  with  on  endowment  of  UiwIh.  Ntlug 
irriiaiMi  lii«  gifbi.  The  emperor,  liuDg  trom  bis  kncee, 
entreated  the  holy  mnii  la  fwk  «oine  boon  bcfuto  tbc; 
purlul,  promising  tliat,  whiitever  it  might  he.  he  would 
irrniit  it.  Niliia,  stretching  forth  his  bond,  lud  it  on  the 
,)Qive11ed  cuinaa  of  the  emperor,  and  said,  with  deep 
Bolemnitj-,  "  I  wik  of  thee  but  this,  that  thou  wtnildet 
make  rcpanlion  for  Ihj  rrimee  1>erore  God,  and  eave 
Ihino  own  soul  1  "  Olho  retiimcd  to  Komc,  where, 
within  a  lew  weeks  afterwards,  the  people  ro«e  ngain^ 
him,  obliged  him  to  ilj  j^ominiouBl}',  and  he  died,  at 
the  early  age  of  twenty^six,  poisoned  by  the  widow  of 
Creaccntiaa.  In  the  same  year  (Jan.  1003)  St.  Kilus 
died,  fall  of  years  and  honors,  alter  having  leqairrd  of 
the  brotherhood  that  they  would  bury  him  immediately, 
and  keep  the  plare  of  his  intcnnent  secret  from  the 
people.  This  he  did  in  the  fear  that  nndne  honora 
WDOld  bo  paid  to  his  remains,  the  passion  for  sanclilied 
rclii'H  being  then  at  ite  height. 

The  gifu  whieh  St.  NiluE  had  refaeed  were  accepted 
liy  his  friend  and  disciple  Bartotomeo ;  ajid  over  the 
eHvero  near  Fnucati  arose  the  mBgnilicent  easiellaled 
ronvcnt  and  ehiireh  of  Sat)  Basilio  of  GrottB.  Fonwa. 
In  memory  of  St.  Nilus,  who  is  considcTed  as  their 
fouorlcr,  the  rule  followed  by  the  monks  is  that  of  St. 
Basil,  aJid  mass  is  even  now  celebrated  every  day  in  tlie 
Grrek  language ;  but  tlicj  consider  tlioir  convent  as  a 
dependency  of  Monte  Cossino,  and  wear  the  Benedict 

This  community  wos  long  tclebraled  for  the  learning 
of  the  mouks,  aud  for  the  possession  of  the  finest  Qrevk 
library  in  all  Italy;  now,  1  beliovo,  incorporated  with 
ihat  of  the  Vatiean.  The  Cardinal-Abbot  Ginliono  da 
Rovere,  afterwards  the  wariiko  Julius  II,,  the  patron  of 
Michael  Angclo,  converted  the  convent  into  a  fortress ; 
and  in  one  of  the  rooms  died  Cardinal  Coosalvi. 


ST,  NILU8   OF  GROTTA  FERRATA,       77 

Bat  we  most  leave  the  historical  associations  con- 
nected with  this  fine  monastery,  for  our  business  is  with 
those  of  art. 

About  the  year  1610,  when  Cardinal  Odoardo  Far* 
nese  was  abbot  of  Grotta  Ferrata,  ho  undertook  to  re- 
build  a  defaced  and  ruined  chapel,  which  had  in  very 
ancient  times  been  dedicated  to  those  interesting  Greek 
saints,  St.  Adrian,  and  his  wife  St.  Natalia,  whose  story 
has  been  already  narrated.  (Legend.  Art.)  The  chapel 
was  accordingly  restored  with  great  magnificence,  rc- 
dedicated  to  St.  Nilus  and  his  companion  St.  Bartolo- 
meo,  who  are  regarded  as  the  two  first  abbots  ;  and  Do- 
men  ichino,  then  in  his  twenty-eighth  year,  was  employed 
to  represent  on  the  wall  some  of  the  most  striking  inci- 
dents connected  with  the  foundation  of  the  monastery. 

The  walls,  in  accordance  with  the  architecture,  are 
divided  into  compartments  varying  in  form  and  size. 

In  the  first  large  compartment  he  has  represented 
the  visit  of  Otho  III.  to  St.  Nilus ;  a  most  dramatic 
composition,  consisting  of  a  vast  number  of  figures. 
The  emperor  has  just  alighted  firom  his  charger,  and 
advances  in  an  humble  attitude  to  crave  the  benediction 
of  the  saint.  The  accessories  in  this  grand  picture  are 
wonderful  for  splendor  and  variety,  and  painted  with 
consummate  skill.  The  whole  strikes  us  like  a  well 
got-up  scene.  The  action  of  a  spirited  horse,  and  the 
two  trumpeters  behind,  are  among  the  most  admired 
parts  of  the  picture.  It  has  always  been  asserted  that 
these  two  trumpeters  express,  in  the  muscles  of  the  face 
and  throat,  the  quality  of  the  sounds  they  give  forth. 
This,  when  I  read  the  description,  appeared  to  mo  a 
piece  of  fanciful  exaggeration  ;  but  it  is  literally  true. 
If  painting  cannot  imitate  the  power  of  sound,  it  has 
here  suggested  both  its  power  and  kind,  so  that  we  see/n 
to  hear.  Among  the  figures  is  that  of  a  young  page, 
who  holds  the  emperor's  horse,  and  wears  over  his  light, 
flowing  hair  a  blue  cap  with  a  plume  of  white  feathers : 
according  to  the  tradition,  this  is  the  portrait  of  a  beau- 


78     LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OKDEBW. 

tiflll  girl,  with  whom  Domenicfaiao  fotl  violentl;  in  lore, 
while  he  was  employed  on  the  fre«DS.  Bcllori  telh  ns 
iluiL  Dot  only  wiw  the  young  pninlcr  rejected  by  the  par- 
enw  of  the  Uwnsel.  but  that  when  the  pirtnre  was  nn- 
corered  >nd  exhibited,  and  tho  fom  recognized  i 
of  the  young  ^rl  he  hud  loved,  he  wu  ohliged 
from  the  rengennce  erf  her  rolativeB, 

The  grcai  componilion  on  tho  oppoBito  wall 
BenU  the  building  of  the  monnBUiiy  aftet  tho  death 
St.  Nilus  by  his  dieciple  and  caa4iutor  SL  Bartolomeo. 
The  maeter  builder  or  Brchitect  preBenm  the  plan, 
which  Si.  Bartolocnea  examines  tlirough  hit  spectacles. 
A  number  of  masoas  and  workmen  are  busied  in  vari- 
oiu  operaKoDS,  and  an  antique  larcophaena,  which  waa 
discoierod  in  digging  iho  foundation,  and  is  ddw  built 
into  the  wall  of  the  chorch,  is  seen  in  one  comer ;  in 
the  backgronnd  is  represented  one  of  tha  legends  of  tho 
locality.  It  is  related  that  when  the  mssona  were  rais- 
ing a  column,  the  rop<a  gave  way,  and  tho  roli 
would  have  fallen  on  the  heads  of  the 
not  one  of  the  monks,  full  of  Ikith,  sustained  the  col- 
umu  with  his  siitgle  strength. 

One  of  the  lesser  compartments  represents 
legend.  The  Madonna  appears  in  a  glorious  1 
St.  Nilas  and  St.  Burtolomeo  in  this  Terj  Grotta 
rata,  and  presents  to  Ihein  a  golden  apple, 
of  her  desire  that  a  chapel  should  rhe  on  this  spot.  The 
golden  apple  was  rovarently  bulled  in  the  foundation 
of  the  lielirj,  as  we  now  bury  coins  and  medals  when 
laying  the  fonndation  of  n  public  edifice. 

Opposite  is  Iho  fresco,  which  ranks  aa  one  of  the  fin- 
est and  most  expressive  of  all  Domonicbino's  compo- 
sitions. A  poor  epileptic  boy  is  brought  lo  St.  Nilus  lo 
he  healed  ;  the  saint,  after  beseeching  tho  divine  (kvor, 
dipa  bis  linger  into  the  oil  of  a  lamp  burning  before  tha 
altar,  and  with  it  anoints  the  moulh  of  the  boy,  who 
is  instantly  lOlioTod  from  his  malady.     Tho  incident  is 


T  and  admirably  told,  and  the  ai 
10  punfully  iTue,  yet  without  distorlion 


of  tho  boy, 

3r  exeggeratioi 


ST.  NILU8   OF  GROTTA  FERRATA,       79 

has  been,  and  I  think  with  reason,  preferred  to  the  epb 
leptic  boy  in  Kaphaers  Transfiguration. 

In  a  high  narrow  compartment  Domenichino  ha« 
represented  St.  Nilas  before  a  crucifix :  the  figure  of 
our  Saviour  extends  the  arm  in  benediction  over  th^ 
kneeling  saint,  who  seems  to  feel,  rather  than  perceive, 
the  miracle.     This  also  is  beautiful. 

St.  Nilus  having  been  a  Greek  monk,  and  the  con- 
vent connected  with  the  Greek  order,  we  have  the  Greek 
Pathers  in  their  proper  habits,  —  venerable  figures  por- 
trayed in  niches  round  the  cornice.  The  Greek  saints, 
St.  Adrian  and  St.  Natalia ;  and  the  Roman  saints,  St. 
Agnes,  St.  Cecilia,  and  St.  Francesca,  are  painted  in 
medallions. 

A  glance  back  at  the  history  of  St.  Nilus  and  the 
origin  of  the  chapel  will  show  how  significant,  how  ap- 
propriate, and  how  harmonious  is  this  scheme  of  deco- 
ration in  all  its  parts.  I  know  not  if  the  credit  of  the 
selection  belongs  to  Domenichino  ;  but,  in  point  of  vi- 
vacity of  conception  and  brilliant  execution,  he  never 
exceeded  these  frescos  in  any  of  his  subsequent  works, 
and  every  visitor  to  Rome  makes  this  famous  chapel  a 
part  of  his  pilgrimage.  For  this  reason  I  have  ventured 
to  enlarge  on  the  details  of  an  obscure  story,  which 
the  beauty  of  these  productions  has  rendered  important 
and  interesting. 


THE   BENEDICTINES   IN   ENGLAND, 
AND   IN   GERMANY. 


HE  introdaction  of  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict 
into  England,  which  took  place  about  fif^y 
years  after  the  death  of  the  founder,  was  an 
important  era  in  our  history,  —  of  far  more 
importance  than  the  advent  of  a  king  or  the  change 
of  a  dynasty.  Many  of  the  English  Benedictines  were, 
as  individual  characters,  so  interesting  and  remarkable, 
that  I  wish  heartily  they  had  remained  to  our  time 
conspicuous  as  subjects  of  art.  We  should  have  found 
them  so,  had  not  the  rapacity  of  Henry  VIII.  and 
his  minions,  followed  afterwards  by  the  blind  fanati- 
cism of  the  Puritans,  swept  from  the  face  of  our 
land  almost  every  memorial,  every  effigy  of  these  old 
ecclesiastical  worthies,  which  was  either  convertible 
into  money  or  within  reach  of  the  sacrile^ous  hand. 
Of  Henry  and  his  motives  we  think  only  with  disgust 
and  horror.  The  Puritans  were  at  least  religiously  in 
earnest ;  and  if  we  cannot  sympathize  with  them,  we 
can  understand  their  stern  hatred  of  a  faith,  or  rather  a 
form  of  faith,  which  had  filled  the  world  with  the  scan- 
dal of  its  pernicious  abuses,  while  the  knowledge  or  the 
comprehension  of  all  the  benefits  it  had  bestowed  on 
our  ancestors  lay  beyond  the  mental  vision  of  any 
Praise-God-Barcbones,  or  any  heavenly-minded  tinker 
or  stern  covenanter  of  Cromwell's  army.  When  I  re- 
call the  history  of  the  ecclesiastical  potentates  of  Italy 


THE  BENEDICTINES  IN  ENGLAND,      8i 

in  the  sixteenth  centwy,  I  coold  almost  turn  Poritan 
myself:  but  when  I  think  of  all  the  wondrous  and  bean- 
tiftil  productions  of  human  skill,  all  the  memorials  of 
the  great  and  gifted  men  of  old,  the  humanizers  and 
ciyilizers  of  our  country,  which  once  existed,  and  of 
which  our  great  cathedrals  —  noble  and  glorious  as  they 
are  even  now  —  are  but  the  remains,  it  is  with  a  very 
cordial  hatred  of  the  profane  savage  ignorance  which 
destroyed  and  desecrated  them.  Now  if  I  dwell  for  a 
while  on  the  legends  of  our  old  ecclesiastical  worthies, 
and  give  a  few  pictures,  rapidly  sketched  in  words,  of 
scenes  and  personages  sanctified  by  our  national  tradi- 
tions, it  is  not  so  much  to  show  how  they  have  been  il- 
lustrated, but  rather  with  a  hope  of  conveying  some 
idea  as  to  the  spirit  and  form  in  which  they  may  be, 
or  ought  to  be,  artistically  treated. 

In  a  cycle  of  our  early  English  saints,  wherever  they 
are  to  be  found,  —  whether  in  our  old  illuminated  mis- 
sals or  in  such  decorations  of  our  old  churches  as  may 
survive  in  sculpture  or  be  released  from  whitewash  and 
plaster,  —  we  should  expect  to  meet  with  St.  Helena, 
the  mother  of  Constantine,  and  St.  Alban,  our  first 
martyr,  taking  precedence  of  the  rest. 

Of  St.  Helen  (a.  d.  328,  Aug.  18)  I  will  not  say  much 
here,  for  her  legendary  history  belongs  to  another  place. 
The  early  ecclesiastioal  writers  fondly  claim  her  as  one 
of  our  native  saints  :  all  the  best  authorities  are  agreed 
that  she  was  bom  in  England ;  according  to  Gibbon,  at 
York  ;  according  to  other  authorities,  at  Colchester  ; 
and  the  last-mentioned  town  bears  as  arms  a  cross  with 
four  crowns,  in  allusion  to  its  claim,  Helena  being  in- 
separably connected  with  the  discovery  or  the  "  inven- 
tion," as  it  is  not  improperly  termed,  of  the  Holy  Cross 
at  Jerusalem.  Some  say  she  was  the  daughter  of  a 
mighty  British  prince,  King  Coilus  or  Coel  (I  suppose 
the  "  Old  King  Cole  "  of  our  ballads),  and  that  in  mar- 
rying Constantins  Chlorus  she  brought  him  a  kingdom 
for  her  dowry.  Others  —  but  they  are  denounced  as 
6 


Jewi  and  Pni^wu  —  t,yei  Itut  sbs  wrb  tbs  dsD|i:hter  of 

■B  innkeeper,  und  llicnra  tilled  Stabularis.  literally 
Ostier-weadi ;  wbilc  her  Chrution  pancgyrisu  ineist  that 
the  obuiiwil  thu  luitne  of  Subalarin  beoaiua  ihe  orvcnd 
a  diurch  over  the  Uablo  iu  ntuch  oar  Savioar  was  born. 
Bui  1  ahnll  tiot  enlcr  further  into  llie  disfiulQ  conisruiug 
Ills  birthplace  and  lineage  of  Helena.  From  remote  an- 
ticjaitj  the  English  have  claimed  her  ne  ibeir  own,  and 
held  her  in  especial  bonor :  witness  the  number  of  our 
old  chnrchea  dedicated  to  her,  and  the  popaiaritj  of  her 
claaucal  Greek  name  In  all  its  Tarious  forma.  In  her 
□Id  a^  she  became  u  Christian  ;  and  her  cnthuitiaBtic 
leal  for  her  now  religion,  and  tlie  influence  she  exorcised 

;r  the  mind  of  her  son,  no  doabt  eon  cri  bated  loUieex- 
]f  Christianity  ihroughoat  tlie  empire.  For  lliis 
she  abould  be  beld  in  honor ;  and  cannot,  cenainl;,  bo 
reproached  or  contemned  because  of  all  the  extrava- 
gant, jet  ofteo  boaatifol  and  significanl,  flcliona  and 
allBgoriee  with  which  she  has  been  eonneeied,  and  wliich 
served  to  lend  her  a  poputnrit^r  she  mi^ht  not  ulherwjse 
have  possessed.  None  of  the  old  legends  have  been 
re  univereaJly  diffused  than  the  ■■  History  of  the  True 
Cross";  and  I  believe  that,  till  a  daifcneas  came  over 
the  minds  of  the  people,  it  was,  Ibrmerly,  as  well  un- 
derstood in  its  allceoriral  sense  as  the  "  Filgrim's  Fro- 
(rrens"  is  now.  But  tliis  will  be  related  in  proper  time 
and  place.  St.  Hdeoa  as  an  English  saint  should  stand 
in  her  imperial  robes,  wearing  the  curthl;  crown  and  tlio 
celcadal  glory  round  her  head,  and  holding  the  large 
cross,  gimerally  murli  IiiUer  than  herself;  sometimes 
she  embraces  the  cross  wiili  both  arms,  and  sometinies 
Hbo  is  seen  in  companionship  with  her  son  Constantine, 
and  tliey  sustain  ihe  crosa  between  them. 

St.  lietuoa  is  partii'nlnrly  connected  with  llie  Beoe- 
dirXines,  for  it  wati  believed  thai  her  remains  had  been 
carried  offli-oai  Rome  about  the  year  8G3,  and  were  de- 
i  the  Benedictine  abbey  of  Uiiulvilliers  in 
ChampBgne.     The  dispntBs  concorning  the  anthenticity 

""1  many  pages  of  the  "  AoDaiea  "  (rf    ' 


ST,  ALBAN.  83 

Mabillon.  Every  one  who  has  been  at  Rome  will  rec- 
ollect the  superb  sarcophagus  of  red  porphyry  in  which 
she  once  reposed,  and  which  is  now  empty,  as  well  as 
her  chapel  in  that  lonely  and  beautiful  church  the 
"  Santa  Croce  di  Gerusalemme/'  But  of  these  I  will 
say  no  more  at  present. 

St.  Alban  (a.  d.  305,  June  22),  the  famous  Eng- 
lish proto-martyr,  was  not  a  monk,  but,  as  the  shrine 
dedicated  to  him  became  subsequently  one  of  the  great- 
est of  our  Benedictine  institutions,  I  place  him  here. 

There  is  something  particularly  touching  in  the  cir- 
cmnstances  of  his  death,  as  related  by  Bede.  He  lived 
in  the  third  century,  in  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Aure- 
lian.  In  his  youth  he  had  travelled  to  Rome,  conducted 
thither  by  his  love  of  learning ;  and,  being  returned 
home,  he  dwelt  for  some  time  in  great  honor  in  his  na- 
tive city  of  Verulam.  Though  still  in  the  darkness  of 
the  old  idolatry,  he  was  distinguished  by  the  practice 
of  every  virtue,  and  particularly  those  of  hospitality  and 
charity.  When  the  persecution  under  Diocletian  was 
extended  to  the  shores  of  Britain,  a  Christian  priest, 
pursued  by  the  people,  took  refuge  in  his  house.  Alban 
concealed  him  there,  and,  struck  by  the  example  of  his 
resignation,  and  enlightened  by  his  teaching,  he  became 
a  Christian  and  received  baptism.  A  few  days  after- 
wards he  had  the  opportunity  of  proving  the  sincerity 
of  his  conversion.  The  stranger  being  pursued,  Alban 
provided  for  his  safety ;  then  putting  on  the  long  rai- 
ment of  the  priest,  he  surrendered  himself  to  the  sol- 
diers ;  and  refusing  equally  to  betray  his  guest  or  wor- 
ship idols,  he  was  condemned  to  death.  He  was  first 
cruelly  tortured,  and  then  led  forth  to  be  beheaded. 
An  exceeding  great  multitude,  mostly  Christians,  fol' 
lowed  him  to  the  place  of  execution  near  the  city.  To 
reach  it  they  were  obliged  to  pass  the  river  Coin  ;  but 
so  great  was  the  multitude  that  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  go  over  the  narrow  bridge  :  the  saint  stood  for 
a  moment  on  the  bank,  and,  putting  up  a  short  prayer, 


g4    LEGE.\Da  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEtOj 

J  diridod,  and  tlie  whole  maM- 
mberof  Bk  thonwiad  per- 
BOtia.  (In  reaching  the  anmmit  of  tlio  hill,  >  must 
plduanl  *poc  uivcrod  willi  bushes  and  fiowere,  St.  Al- 
bnn,  &11ing  on  hk  knees,  pmjvd  tliat  God  would  give 
him  water,  and  imiuediatclT  a  liring  spring  lirokc  out 
before  hia  foet,  in  which  he  quenched  his  ihireC ;  and 
then  bending  bis  neck  to  Ihe  exccBtiontr,  the  head  of 
this  nuwt  courageoos  martyr  was  Htruck  oiT,  and  he  re- 
ceived tha  crown  of  life  wliieb  God  bm  iiitimised  to  all 
who  eaSer  for  bis  sake. 

Bedo  adds,  thai,  in  his  time,  there  exiiitcd  on  the 
ipot  a  cliureh  of  wonderful  workmansiiJ|i ;  but  iti  tho 
sahseqneat  wars  and  rava^^  of  Faf;sD  natioas  the 
memory  of  the  martyr  had  almost  perished,  and  the 
p1ai»  of  Ilia  hnrial  was  forgotten  ;  until  it  happened,  in 
the  year  793,  tliat  the  samu  was  mads  known  by  b 

For  when  OSn,  king  of  the  Mercians,  ( Chsnncey's 
Hist,  of  Herts.,  p.  426,)  wne  taking  bis  rest  on  his  royal 
couch,  he  was  admonished  by  an  angel  troni  Heaven, 
that  [be  remains  of  the  blessed  martyr  should  be  disin- 
terred and  restored  to  the  yeneradOD  of  the  people.  So 
King  ORa  came  to  Vemlam,  and  there  they  found  St. 
Albao  lying  in  a  wooden  cofBn ;  and  there  and  then 
the  pious  kiog  founded  a  cliurcb,  and  in  its  vicinity 
aroBO  the  groat  Benedictine  monastery  and  the  town  of 
St.  Albans  in  Hertfordshire. 

St.  Alban  being  the  Dtst  sunt  and  martyr  in  England, 
the  Abbot  of  St.  Alban'a  had  pruixdaace  over  all  olbors. 

lu  some  old  effigies  which  remain  of  Sc  Alban  he  is 
represented  like  St.  Denis,  carrying  his  head  in  hia 
liaud.  Hia  proper  altritiute  as  martyr  would  bo  the 
sword,  and  a  fountain  springing  a    '      ' 


of  St.  Paul. 


8T.  AUGUSTINE.  85 

Christianity  in  England,  which  tells  how  he  became  in- 
terested for  the  poor  benighted  islanders,  our  fair-haired 
ancestors,  (nan  Angli  sed  Angdi!)  and  represents  St. 
Aognstine  of  Canterbury  as  the  first  Christian  mission- 
ary in  this  nation.  But  it  appears  to  me  that  our  mod- 
em artists,  and  particularly  the  decorators  of  our  na- 
tional edifices,  are  under  a  mistake  in  assuming  tliis 
view  to  be  consonant  with  the  truth  of  history.  St. 
Aognstine  preached  in  England  that  form  of  Christian- 
ity which  had  been  promulgated  by  the  Hierarchs  of 
the  West.  He  was  the  instrument  by  which  the  whole 
island  was  bronght  nnder  the  papal  power.  But  Chris- 
tianity and  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  had  shone 
upon  Britain  three  centuries  at  least  before  the  time  of 
Aognstine. 

• 

The  old  traditions  relating  to  the  first  introduction 
of  Christianity  into  this  land  are  in  the  highest  degree 
picturesque  and  poetical.  As  to  their  truth,  I  am  rather 
inclined  to  sympathize  with  the  early  belief  in  those  an- 
cient stories,  which,  if  they  cannot  be  proved  to  be  true, 
neither  can  they  be  proved  to  be  false.  Now,  every- 
thing that  is  possible  mcuf  be  true,  and  everything  that 
is  improbable  is  not  therefore  false  ;  which  being 
granted,  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  be  emancipated  from 
the  severe  limits  prescribed  by  critical  incredulity,  and 
allowed  for  a  while  to  revel  in  the  wider  bounds  allowed 
to  a  more  poetical  and  not  wholly  irreligious  faith. 

"  Some,"  sajrs  Dugdale,  "  hold  that,  when  Philip, 
one  of  the  twelve  apostles  came  to  France,  he  sent  Jo- 
seph of  Arimathea  with  Joseph  his  son,  and  eleven 
more  of  his  disciples  hither,  who,  with  great  zeal  and 
undaunted  courage,  preached  the  true  and  lively  faith 
of  Christ ;  and  when  King  Arviragus  considered  the 
difficulties  that  attended  their  long  and  dangerous  jour- 
ney from  the  Holy  Land,  beheld  their  civil  and  inno- 
cent lives,  and  observed  their  sanctity  and  the  severi- 
ties of  their  religion,  he  gave  them  a  certain  island  in 
the  west  part  of  his  dominions  for  their  habitation, 


86     LEUKNDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDi 

mlled  AvhIoii.  poniainipe  twelve  hides  of  land,  where 
ihry  huill  n  chiirrfi  of  wrcathen  wanda,  anil  Mt  n  place 
apart  for  llie  Imrinl  of  iheir  aErvaDW.  Thoic  l.olj  men 
wura  devoted  to  a  rcli^iu  Euliiude,  confined  ihemKelvfs 
to  the  number  of  twelve,  lived  there  after  the  ntsnuer  of 
Christ  aud  the  ^xwtlcs,  and,  Lj  their  pvcaoliing,  con- 
Terted  a  grant  number  of  tho  Britaw,  who  became 
Christians." 

■•  Upon  this  ground."  mya  another  vrriter,*  "  the  am- 
bnasadors  of  the  kings  of  Eagland  claimed  precedency 
of  the  smboBSadora  of  the  kio)^  of  France,  Spaia,  and 
Scotland  in  sorecal  coaniils  held  in  Europe;  one  at 
Pisa,  A.  D.  U09;  another  at  ConslBnee,  a.,  s.  1414; 
another  at  Biena,  a.  d.  H!4  ;  and  cepeciall;  at  Basle, 
A.  u.  1434,  when  the  point  of  prvicdency  was  stnmglj 
debated :  the  ambaesoiloTB  from.  France,  ioEiating  much 
apon  Iho  dignity  and  magnitude  of  tliat  kingdon,  Eeid, 
'  'T  viag  not  reasonable  that  England  Hlionid  oojoy  equal 
privileges  with  France  '  \  bat  the  ambassadors  of  Eng- 
land, insisting  on  the  honor  of  the  Church,  declared, 
that  the  Christian  feith  ww  first  received  in  Eogland, 
Joseph  of  Arimathca  having  come  hitlier  with  otheni, 
in  the  fifleienth  year  after  the  asaumpcion  of  the  Viigin 
Iilary,  and  cooTertBd  a  great  part  of  the  people  to  the 
faith  of  Christ:  bat  Franro  receivod  not  the  ChriBtian 
religion  till  tho  lime  of  Dionisius  ( St,  Denis),  by  whosa 
ministry  it  was  converted ;  and  by  igbsod  hereof  the 
kings  of  this  land  ought  to  have  the  rif;ht  of  prece- 
dency, for  that  they  did  fur  transcend  all  otiior  kings  in 
worth  and  bouor,  so  much  as  Christians  were  more  ex- 
cellent than.  PagaDs." 

Sach  is  the  legend  of  Gloslonbnry,  that  bmona  old 
ahhey,  whose  origin  is  wrapt  in  a  wondroos  anliijaily  ; 
vrhere  bloomed  and  still  iilooms  the  ■'  myslii:  lliorn," 
ever  on  tho  foast  of  Ihe  Nativity,  when,  amid  the  snows 
of  winter,  every  other  branch  is  hare  of  leaf  and  bloa- 
»om  i  whore  sleeps  King  Arthur  "  till  he  comes  again  "  j 
I—  where  Alfred  found  refuge  when  huuled  by  his  Tine 


ST.  AUGUSTINE,  87 

isli  foes,  and  matared  his  plans  for  the  deliverance  of 
his  country.  And  not  at  Glastonbury  only,  but  at  Ban- 
gor and  many  other  famous  places,  there  were,  before 
the  coming  of  St.  Augustine,  communities  of  religious 
men  and  women,  who  lived  according  to  the  Eastern 
rnle,  as  the  Essenes  of  Palestine  and  the  Cenobites  in 
Egypt,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  in  the  lives  of  St.  Paul 
and  St.  Anthony.     (Sacred  and  Legend.  Art.) 

But  Augustine  the  monk,  whom  the  English  call  St. 
Austin,  was  undoubtedly  the  first  who  introduced  the 
order  of  St  Benedict  into  England.  The  Benedictines 
number  St.  Gregory  as  one  of  their  order :  it  is  not  cer- 
tain that  he  took  the  habit,  but  he  placed  the  convent 
which  he  had  founded  at  Bome  on  the  Celian  Hill  under 
the  rule  of  St.  Benedict ;  and  out  of  this  convent  came 
the  monk  St.  Augustine  and  his  companions,  whom 
Gregory  selected  as  his  missionaries  to  England.  In 
those  days  the  coasts  of  England  were,  to  the  soft  Ital- 
ians, a  kind  of  Siberia  for  distance  and  desolation ;  and 
on  their  journey  these  chosen  missionaries  were  seized, 
we  are  told,  with  a  sudden  fear,  and  began  to  think  of  re- 
turning home  rather  than  proceed  to  a  barbarous,  fierce, 
unbelieving  nation,  to  whose  very  language  they  were 
strangers  ;  and  they  sent  Augustine  to  entreat  of  their 
holy  father,  the  Pope,  that  they  might  be  excused  from 
this  dangerous  journey.  We  are  not  informed  how  St. 
Gregory  received  Augustine :  we  only  know  that  he 
speedily  sent  him  back  with  a  brief  but  peremptory  let- 
ter, beginning  with  these  words,  "  Gregory ^  the  servant 
of  the  seroanta  of  God,  to  the  servants  of  oar  Lord.  For- 
asmuch as  it  had  been  better  not  to  begin  a  good  work 
than  to  think  of  desisting  from  that  which  is  begun,  it 
behooves  you,  my  beloved  sons,  to  fulfil  the  good  work 
which,  by  the  help  of  our  Lord,  you  have  undertaken." 
So  Augustine,  being  constituted  chief  and  bishop  over 
the  future  converts,  they  continued  their  journey,  and 
landed  in  the  Isle  of  Thanet  in  Kent 

Now,  the  men  of  Kent  had  been,  even  from  the  ear- 
liest times,  the  most  stiff-necked  against  the  Christiao 


i 


1 


tt     LE<1E!1DS  OF  TUt:  MOKASTfC  ORDERi 

faith,  BO  Uuu  li  wBB  an  old  Mjing  to  exprcBH  Ibe  flj 
Gxittcni?a  of  &  thing,  that  it  wiu  not  <o  be  round  "m 
in  ChiitlriidBa  or  in  Koit."     NDtwilhHlanding,  tfaa  ft 
on  Kin;  Eilutltwrt  Kccivcd  St.  AuganDiie  ud  his  eq 
pnaions  tktj  eradousty,  pcnuaded  thiirelo  by  hit  « 
Bcrtlm,  who  vm»  a  Clirutiui ;  and  thej  entered  liy  bi« 
p«nnie»ion  the  city  of  CanterbDry,  carryini;  on  high  the 
holy  croBa  anil  the  imngo  of  ouc  blotsed  8itTioar,  and 
(inj^ing  Htillelnjahg. 

Then  tboj  prcBi^hed  the  Gospel,  and  King-  Ethelbeit 
and  liis  snbjct^la  were  baplixed  nod  became  Chrisluiu. 
It  ia  reoordvd  lliat  the  first  Kentish  conrertB  receirod 
the  rilea  of  bapttem  and  conflrmation  in  a  chapel  near 
Canterbniy,  whith  the  French  princeaa  BerUm  liod 
dediated  to  her  native  saint  Martin  of  Tours. 

But  AnguBtine  was  not  eatisfied  with  convening  the 
Saxons :  be  endeavored  to  brinj;  the  andeut  British 
Chnrch  to  arknonledge  the  Pope  of  Home  as  its  spirit- 
nnl  head,  and  himiielf  as  his  delegated  representative. 
The  Britons  were  at  first  strongly  opposed  to  what  a|>- 
poared  to  thorn  a  Blrange  nsurpation  of  authority ;  and 
their  bialiops  pleaded  that  they  conld  not  lay  aside  tlicll 
am'ient  cnsloniB  and  adopt  the  ccicmomes  and  iOEtila- 
tions  of  the  Roman  Church  without  the  consent  and  Iree 
leave  of  the  wiiolo  nation.  (For  before  the  timo  of 
Augustine  tite  British  Church  acknowledged  no  obe- 
dience to  Itume,  but  looked  to  its  ovm  metropolitan, 
the  Bishop  of  Cncrlcon-on-Uske  (Glmlonbury),  and 
derived  their  cuiitoins,  riles,  and  ordinances  Irom  the 
Eastern  Churches.)  "  Tliercfoie  they  desired  that  an- 
other Bynod  might  bo  called,  bccaase  their  number  was 
small.  This  being  agreed  to,  seven  biahopB  and  many 
learned  men  repaired  thither ;  and  on  their  way  ihcy 
ranBolted  a  ceriain  holy  and  wise  man  who  lived  as  an 
anchorite,  and  who  advised  them,  saying, '  If  Augustine 
Bhall  rise  up  when  ye  come  near  him,  then  he  is  a  ser- 
vant of  God,  and  ye  shall  listen  to  his  words  ;  but  if  he 
Bit  still  and  show  no  respect,  then  he  is  proad  and 
Cometh  not  from  God,  and  ia  not  to  be  regarded.' 


ST.  AUGUSTINE.  89 

when  thej  appeared  before  Augustine,  and  saw  that  he 
Bat  still  in  his  chair  without  showing  any  courtesy  or 
respect  to  them,  they  were  very  angry,  and,  discoursing 
among  themselves,  said,  *  If  he  will  not  rise  up  now 
unto  us,  how  much  more  will  he  condemn  us  when  we 
are  subject  to  him  ? '  Then  Augustine  exhorted  them 
to  receive  the  rites  and  usages  of  the  Church  of  Rome ; 
but  they  excused  themselves,  saying  that  they  owed  no 
more  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  than  the  love  and  broth- 
erly assistance  which  was  due  to  all  who  held  with  them 
the  faith  of  Christ ;  but  to  their  own  bishop  they  owed 
obedience,  and  without  his  leave  they  could  not  alter 
the  ordinances  of  their  Church.  Then  Augustine  de- 
sired their  conformity  in  three  things  only  :  1.  In  the 
observation  of  Easter.  2.  In  the  administration  of 
baptism.  3.  In  their  assistance  by  preaching  among 
the  English  Saxons.  And  neither  in  these  things  could 
'  he  obtain  their  compliance,  for  they  persisted  in  denying 
him  all  power  over  them.''  (I  cannot  but  think  that 
this  conference  between  St.  Augustine  and  the  ancient 
British  clergy  would  be  a  capital  scene  for  a  picture, 
and  much  better  than  the  trite  subjects  usually  chosen 
from  this  part  of  our  history.  To  understand  fully  the 
conduct  held  by  Augustine  on  this  occasion,  we  should 
remember  that  it  was  then  a  question  which  divided  the 
whole  Christian  world,  whether  the  Eastern  or  Western 
patriarch  should  be  acknowledged  as  the  head  of  the 
universal  Church,  and  whether  the  Greek  or  the  Roman 
ceremonial  was  to  prevail.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the 
obstinacy  of  St.  Augustine,  we  might  all  have  been  now 
Greeks  or  Russians ;  —  dreadful  possibility !  But  to  con- 
tinue the  story.)  "  Notwithstanding  the  opposition  of 
the  Britons,  and  contrary  to  the  directions  of  his  great 
and  wise  master  St.  Gregory,  Augustine  carried  things 
with  a  high  hand,  and  deprived  the  British  bishops  of 
their  sees,  which  they  had  possessed  for  nearly  four 
hundred  years,  and  this  of  his  own  will  and  power,  and 
without  any  crime  or  sentence  of  a  council.  Farther, 
he  is  accused  of  having  incited  the  Saxons  to  rise  up 


LF.Gl:Kllli  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


■gtiivit  tlic  DriiJsli  Clirulnun,  and  m  huTo  been 
emu*;  ih*i  EiliollVcd,  kin(t  of  Northnmlieriund,  weut 
ncaiiui  ilic  ppoplu  of  Cliraicr  and  »lew  tlie  iDonki 
liuiiKiir.  (wcire  hundred  in  linml«r.  ami 

BVmyei  Lliatgtorioiw  moiuutvi?,  inivbichws 

mm;  aod  precious  reronls  and  monumenta  of  BritUh 

htBlory." 

(The  massaciB  at  Banfor,  which  is  deiicrihed  n 
IiiFloreaqae  cimjmaianp(«  by  Bpde,  took  place  in  e 
or  laier ;  and  Aamt'tino,  who  liad  roceircMl  tlie  palli 
as  tint  Primate  of  England  in  601,  died  in  604.) 


"  This  Aaeustine,"  Biuih  CapgiBve,  "  WM  vory  tall 
liy  culture;  of  a  dark  rompleKion;  his  tiica  lieaulifoi, 
Ijut  withal  miyeslical.  He  always  wiUked  on  (bo[,  and 
commonly  visited  hie  pravinr«(  banrooted,  and  the  ikin 
on  his  knecB  hud  gnrnn  hard,  (hroagli  iierpeinal  kncel- 
iag  at  hix  davotiona ;  and  farther,  it  is  aaid  of  him,  that 
lie  was  a  most  learned  and  pioas  man,  an  imitator 
of  primitive  hoUneee,  fi«quen[  in  watchinei,  fastings, 
prajent.  and  alms,  zealoua  in  propagaliiig  the  church  of 
his  ngc,  camciit  in  rooting  out  pHganiam,  diligent  in  re- 
pairing und  buildiitif  churches,  extraordinarily  famous 
for  the  working  of  rairacfa  and  cures  among  the  people. 
Uencc  his  mind  may  have  been  puffed  np  with  human 
Tanity,  which  caused  St.  Gregory  to  Bdmonish  hire." 

To  this. description  1  wilt  add,  iliat  he  ou^ht  to  be 
ropreseuted  wearing  tlie  black  Benedictine  babii,  asd 
carrying  the  pastoral  slalf  and  the  Gospel  in  hia  hand, 
as  ahbol  and  as  missionary.  After  the  year  601,  ho 
may  lie  represented  with  the  cope,  paJlinm,  and  mitre,  as 
primate  and  bishop  of  Canierbnry.  The  title  of  Atch- 
biehop  was  not  in  use,  I  believe,  before  the  ninth  eenlury. 

The  proper  compaiiioQ  to  St.  Augustine,  where  he 
ligures  BS  chief  saint  and  apostle  of  England,  wouhl  be 
St.  Pautinns ;  who,  in  601,  was  sent  from  Rome  (o  as- 
him  in  his  mission.  Paulinna  prearhed  through  all 
the  district  north  of  the  Humlier,  and  bei'unie  the  lirsl 
Primate  of  York,  where  he  founded  the  cathedral,  and 


I 


ST,  AUGUSTINE,  91 

afterwards  died  very  old  at  Rochester,  in  644.  His 
friends  and  converts,  King  Edwin  and  Queen  Ethel? 
barga,  may  be  grouped  with  him. 

''But  to  remote  Northnmbria's  royal  hall, 
Where  thooghtftil  Edwin,  tutored  in  the  school 
Of  sorrow,  still  maintains  a  heathen  rule, 
Who  comes  with  functions  apostolical  7 
Hark  him,  of  shoulders  curved^  and  stature  tall. 
Black  hair,  and  vivid  eye,  and  meagre  cheek. 
His  prominent  feature  like  an  eaglets  beak  :  — 
A  man  whose  aspect  doth  at  once  appal 
And  strike  with  rererence."  —  Wordsworth. 

This  portrait  of  Paulinus,  from  the  description  left 
US  by  an  eyewitness,  may  be  usefiil  to  artists  :  the  epi- 
thet **  thonghtfid  Edwin"  as  well  describes  the  king. 

The  conversion  of  Coifi,  the  Druid  and  high-priest 
of  Thor,  is  the  most  striking  and  picturesque  incident 
in  the  life  of  St.  Paulinus  of  York.  "  King  Edwin  gave 
his  license  to  Paulinus  to  preach  the  Gk)spel,  and,  re- 
nouncing idolatry,  declared  that  he  received  the  faith 
of  Christ ;  and  when  he  inquired  of  the  high-priest  who 
should  first  profane  the  altars  and  temples  of  the  idols, 
he  answered,  *I!  —  for  who  can  more  properly  than 
myself  destroy  those  things  which  I  worshipped  through 
ignorance  ? '  Then  immediately,  in  contempt  of  his 
former  superstitions,  he  desired  the  king  to  furnish  him 
with  arms  and  a  horse,  and  mounting  the  same,  he  set 
forth  to  destroy  the  idols  (for  it  was  not  lawful  before 
for  the  high-priest  to  carry  arms  or  ride  on  any  but  a 
mare).  Having,  therefore,  girt  a  sword  about  him,  with 
a  spear  in  his  hand,  he  mounted  the  king's  charger,  and 
proceeded  to  the  idols.  The  multitude  beholding  it, 
concluded  that  he  was  distracted  ;  but  he,  when  he  drew 
near  the  temple,  cast  his  spear  into  it,  and,  rejoicing  in 
the  knowledge  of  the  true  Grod,  commanded  his  com- 
panions to  destroy  the  idols  with  fire."*     Here  would 

*  The  scene  took  place  at  Godmundham,  in  Yorkshire.  Btukely 
says,  in  his  Itinerary,  *^The  apostle  Paulinus  built  the  parish 
church  of  Godmundham,  where  is  the  font  in  which  he  baptised 
the  heathen  priest  Goifl." 


9>    LEGENDS  OF  TSfl  MONASTIC  ORDERS^' 

have  b«Mi  B  fine  aulijert  for  Rubens  I  I  reconiineiid  it 
In  our  arliBti ;  nnlj  Ijipy  mot!  Im  mrefiil  to  presen'c 
(vl.ich  liu'icns  ne-icT  <liil)  the  Tcllgiolis  spirit ;  slid  in 
Hckitii;  iho  grand  and  dramalic,  tu  avoid  (u  Bubens 
alnys  did)  tbe  cxagg«nk[«d  and  theatrical. 


From  Ihetimoof  Si.  Anirnstine, all  thorn 
read;  in  exiMoara  wcepicd  iIiq  rule  of  SL  Beiinlltrt,  and 
tliosu  i^raDil  ert'legiiuticvl  odilii'es  which  roee  in  England 
during  tho  next  six  handred  Jtan  were  chicfl;  foanded 
br  or  for  the  mcmbors  of  this  maipuliccDi  order.  The; 
devoted  [heir  skill  in  an,  their  labor,  their  learning,  and 
ttiuir  wealth  to  admirable  purposes ;  and  as  in  tbesa 
lirescnt  more  rivilized  times,  we  Had  companies  of  epec- 
ulolori  constructing  railways,  panly  (or  profit  and  expe- 
diency, and  partly,  as  tbe;  sa;,  to  give  employment  to 
tbe  poor,  so  in  those  early  times,  when  we  were  only 
jnat  emerging  from  bacliariim,  we  And  these  muniliccnC 
and  energetic  commanitiea  draining  tlie  marahGB  of  Lin- 
Colnchiro  and  SometWUhifD,  clearing  llio  midland  nod 
northern  forests,  plauting,  buQding,  and  tranEcribiog 
Bibles  for  the  lionor  of  God  and  the  good  of  the  poor  ; 
and  though  their  cnltivated  liolds  and  gardens,  and  their 
eloisteri,  cliurcbcs,  libraries,  and  schoolB,  were  laid 
waste,  bumed,  and  pillaged  by  the  devastations  of  the 
Danes,  yet  tbe  spirit  in  which  they  had  worked  sur- 
vived, and  Lhoir  institutions  were  atterwarda  restored 
with  more  citlengivcj  means,  and  all  the  advanlages  af- 
forded by  improveii  skill  in  meebanical  and  agricultu- 
ral  science.  I  feel  disappointment  and  regret  while 
writing  this,  to  be  obliged  to  confine  myself  to  the  ar- 
tistiG  repiesentatiooB  of  the  early  English  BenedicI 


4 

I  it  I 


yet.e 


n  wtLhiii  these  n 


It  be  briefly  commemorated  ; 
who  is  connected  in  an  iiitcrealin^ 


K  limits,  I  find  a  few  who 
d  I  begin  with  01 


ST.  BENNET  BI8C0P.  93 

Northumberland,  foanded  the  two  Benedictine  monas- 
teries of  St.  Peter's  at  Wearmouth,  and  St.  Paul's  at 
Jarrow,  which  became  in  process  of  time  two  of  the 
most  fioarishing  schools  in  England. 

St.  Bennet  seems  to  have  been  a  man  not  only 
learned  and  accomplished  as  an  ecclesiastic,  but  en- 
dowed with  a  sense  of  the  beautiful  rare  in  those  days, 
at  least  among  our  Saxon  ancestors.  Before  his  time 
there  were  scarcely  any  churches  or  chapels  built  of 
stone  to  be  found  in  England.  Glass  in  the  windows 
was  miknown ;  there  were  very  few  books,  and  fewer 
pictures.  Bennet  made  no  less  than  five  journeys  to 
France  and  Italy,  and  brought  back  with  him  cunning 
architects  and  carvers  in  stone,  and  workers  in  metal, 
whom  he  settled  near  his  monastery  :  he  brought  gla- 
ciers from  France,  for  the  art  of  making  glass  was  then 
unknown  in  England.  Moreover,  he  brought  with  him 
a  great  quantity  of  costly  books  and  copies  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  also  many  pictures  representing  the  actions 
of  our  Saviour,  in  order,  as  it  is  expressly  said,  "that 
the  ignorant  might  learn  from  them  as  others  did  from 
books.''  (Bede.)  And  further,  it  is  related  that  he 
placed  in  his  monastery  at  Wearmouth, ."  pictures  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  of  the  twelve  apostles,  the  history 
of  the  Gospel,  and  the  visions  of  St.  John  (i.  e.  the 
Apocalypse).  His  church  of  St.  Paul  at  Jarrow  he 
adorned  with  many  other  pictures,  disposed  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  represent  the  harmony  between  the  Old 
and  the  New  Testament  and  the  conformity  of  the  fig- 
ures of  the  one  with  the  reality  of  the  other.  Thus, 
Isaac  carrying  the  wood  which  was  to  make  the  sacrifice 
of  himself  was  explained  by  Christ  carrying  the  cross 
on  which  he  was  to  finish  his  sacrifice  ;  and  the  brazen 
serpent  was  illustrated  by  our  Saviour's  crucifixion." 
(From  this  we  may  gather  how  ancient,  even  in  this 
country,  was  the  system  of  type  and  antitype  in  Chris- 
tian art,  of  which  Sir  Charles  Eastlake  has  given  a  most 
interesting  account  in  the  notes  to  Kugler's  Handbook, 
page  216.)      And  fm'ther,  St.  Bennet  brought  from 


I 


94    LEGENDS  OF  TBE  UOffASTIC  ORDfJta^ 

Itomo  in  his  Iwl  jonni«7  «  certuD  John,  ahbot  of  Sul 
Miirtino,  precentor  (or  teacher  of  mttBit)  in  die  pope's 
chapel,  whom  ho  iilnnxl  nt  Wearmouih  to  insinici  his 
niunkg  in  tlie  clumling  tho  diviuo  wjrriceg  tu'ranling  to 
the  Ore^riHn  mantter,  which  appears  lo  be  the  tiiat  in- 
trodaclion  of  mneic  into  our  eathednilH.  Be  oUo  com- 
po«sl  many  boolu  for  the  instruction  of  liis  monks  and 
of  IhoBB  who  frBqQBnted  the  schools  of  hia  moniisterr. 
Among-  the  pnpils  of  St.  Bcnnet  wns  the  Veucr&bla 
Beile,  who  studied  in  hia  coDvent  during  bovcb  years, 
(A,  p.   735.) 

After  a  long  life  of  pic^,  charity,  and  mnnificeDce, 
embellished  hy  elegaot  pursniCa,  this  remarkable  maa 
died  about  the  year  703. 

lie  is  ropreseoted  as  bishop,  wearing  the  mitre  and 
plan  eta.  Bud  hearing  (he  ps^nnal  stalF;   in  the  hack- 
ground,  the  two  monasteries  are  seen,  and  llie 
Tyno  flowing  between  Ibem ;  —  asinaliclle  prii 
BolUr. 


In  association  with  this  enlightened  bishop,  we  ought 
to  Snd  St.  Ccthbebt  of  Duriiam  ;  a  saint,  in  that 
age,  of  far  greater  celebrity  and  more  extended  influ- 
ence, living  and  dead ;  yet,  looking  back  fVom  the  point 
where  we  now  stsud,  we  feel  inclined  to  adjust  the 
claims  to  renown  more  equitably.  Perhaps  we  might 
say  that  St.  Cuihbert  represented  the  ipirilnalitj,  and 
Si.  Benedict  of  Wearmouih  the  intellect,  of  their  time 

Cailihcrt  began  life  as  a  shepherd,  in  the  valley  of 
the  Tweed,  not  (ar  from  Melrose,  where  a  religious 
honao  had  raeently  spmng  np  under  the  auspices  of  St. 
Aldan.  One  of  the  legends  of  his  childhood  seems  to 
havo  been  invented  as  an  instructii-c  apoiogue  for  the 
edilication  of  schooUboya.  As  St.  Cnthbcn  was  one 
day  playing  at  ball  with  liis  companions,  there  stood 
among  them  n  liiir  yonng  child,  the  bircat  crcatuie 
ever  eye  beheld ;  and  he  said  to  St.  Cnthbert,  "  Good 


ST.  CUTHBERT. 


95 


brother,  leave  these  vain  plays  ;  set  not  thy  heart  upon 
them  ;  mind  thy  book ;  has  not  God  chosen  thee  out  to 
be  great  in  his  Church  ?  "  But  Cuthbert  heeded  him 
not ;  and  the  fair  child  wrung  his  hands,  and  wept,  and 
threw  himself  down  on  the  ground  in  great  heaviness  ; 
and  when  Cuthbert  ran  to  comfort  him,  he  said,  "  Nay, 
my  brother,  it  is  for  thee  I  weep,  that  preferest  thy  vain 
sports  to  the  teaching  of  the  servants  of  Grod  ** ;  and 
then  he  vanished  suddenly,  and  Cuthbert  knew  that  it 
was  an  angel  that  had  spoken  to  him  ;  and  from  that 
time  forth  his  piety  and  love  of  learning  recommended 
him  to  the  notice  of  the  good  prior  of  Melrose,  who  in- 
structed him  carefully  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  And  it 
is  related  that  on  a  certain  night,  as  Cuthbert  watched 
his  flocks  by  the  river-side,  and  was  looking  up  to  the 
stars,  suddenly  there  shone  a  dazzling  light  above  his 
head,  and  he  beheld  a  glorious  vision  of  angels,  who 
were  bearing  the  soul  of  his  preceptor  St.  Aidan  into 
heavenly  bliss ;  whereupon  he  forsook  his  shepherd's 
life,  and,  entering  the  monastery  of  Melrose,  he  became, 
after  a  few  years,  a  great  and  eloquent  preacher,  con- 
verting the  people  around,  both  those  who  were  pagans, 
and  those  who,  professing  themselves  Christians,  lived 
a  life  unworthy  the  name,  and  he  brought  back  many 
who  had  gone  astray  ;  for  when  he  exhorted  them,  such 
a  brightness  appeared  in  his  angelic  face,  that  no  man 
could  conceal  from  him  the  most  hidden  secrets  of  the 
heart,  but  all  openly  confessed  their  faults  and  promised 
amendment.  He  was  wont  to  preach  in  such  villages 
as,  being  far  up  in  the  wild  and  desolate  mountains, 
were  considered  almost  inaccessible  ;  and  among  these 
poor  and  half-barbarous  people  he  would  sometimes  re- 
main for  weeks  together,  instructing  and  humanizing 
them.  Afterwards  removing  from  Melrose  to  Landis- 
fame,  he  dwelt  for  some  years  as  an  anchorite  in  a  soli- 
tary islet,  on  the  shore  of  Northumberland,  then  bar- 
ren, and  infested  by  evil  spirits,  but  afterwards  called 
Holy  Island,  from  the  veneration  inspired  by  his  sanc- 
tity.    Here  he  dug  a  well,  and  sowed  barley,  and  sup- 


I 


96     LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEM.\ 

ported  himaelT  bj  iho  lahor  of  his  haDds  ;  and  bere,  ac- 

(xirding  to  the  8i^ifi<vni  nnd  fi^T^Tc  legend,  the  hd- 
g:els  visited  him,  and  loft  on  his  tnhle  bread  prepared  in 
Pamdite.  After  wmo  jears,  Cathben  was  made  biahop 
of  Landisfame,  which  was  ifacn  tlie  principal  eee  of  the 
NonJianibriaDB  (Binm  removod  to  DurbBin],  and  in  this 
(Mix  he  was  venerated  and  lored  by  all  men,  beint;  nn 
jnplo  of  diligence  and  pict;,  "  modest  in  the  virtue 
of  patience,  and  attable  to  all  who  came  to  bitn  for  itoid- 
fon  " ;  and  fttrther,  many  wond^ni  things  are  recorded 
of  him,  both  while  he  lived  and  after  hia  death,  —  miroc- 
s  and  merciea  wrought  ilirangh  ills  interces- 
sion  1  aod  the  ehrine  of  Bt.  Cuthbert  bei'aiDe,  in  the 
North  of  England,  a  plam  of  pilgtioiage.  It  was  often 
plundered,  and  on  one  ocroeion  his  relics  were  carried 
off  by  the  Danes.  Tbctr  final  irnnelation  was  to  the 
cathedral  of  Durham,  where  Ihey  now  repOBB. 

St.  Cathbert  is  represented  as  bishop,  with  an  otter 
at  bia  side,  originally  ei^fyin^  his  reeidence  in  ibo 
midst  of  waters.  There  is,  however,  an  ancient  legend, 
whit'b  rolatca  that  one  night  after  duing  penance  on  the 
shore  in  the  damp  and  the  rold,  lie  Ewooned  and  lay  as 
one  dead  apon  tho  earth  ;  bnl  there  rame  two  otters  on( 
of  the  water,  which  licked  him  all  over,  till  life  and 
warmth  were  restored  10  his  benumbed  limbs.  In  this, 
as  in  BO  many  other  inEtances,  the  emblem  lias  been 
IrBtielated  into  a  fact  or  rather  into  a  miracle.  The 
pro[ier  attribnto  of  St.  Cuthbert  is  the  crowned  bead  of 
king  Oswald  in  his  arms  ;  of  whom  as  associnted  with 
St.  Culliliert,  and  often  represented  in  early  Art,  I  will 
say  a  few  words  here. 

St.  Oswald  was  the  greatest  of  oar  kingly  saints 
and  martyra  of  the  Shxoq  line.  His  whole  story,  as 
related  by  Bede,  is  exceedingly  heantdfnl.  lie  had  re- 
quested that  a  ioacher  might  be  sent  to  instruct  him  and 
his  people  in  the  word  of  God  ;  but  the  first  who  came 
to  him  was  a  man  of  a  very  severe  disposition  ; 
meeting  with  no  success  in  his  miEsion,  returned  h 


ST.  OSWALD.  97 

Then  Aidao,  afterwards  prior  of  Melrose,  rebuked  this 
missionary,  saying,  he  had  been  more  severe  to  his  un- 
learned hearers  than  he  onght  to  have  been  ;  which  good 
man,  Aidan,  being  indaed  with  singular  discretion,  and 
all  the  gentler  virtues,  undertook  to  preach  to  the  sub- 
jects of  king  Oswald,  and  succeeded  wonderfully. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  and  picturesque  incidents 
in  the  life  of  Oswald  is  thus  related  by  Bede. 

Having  been  dispossessed  of  his  dominions  by  Cad- 
walla  (or  Cadwallader),  king  of  the  Britons,  who  be- 
sides being  a  bloody  and  rapacious  tyrant,  was  a  heathen 
(this,  at  least,  is  the  character  given  him  by  the  Sax- 
ons), he  lived  for  some  time  in  exile  and  obscurity,  but 
at  length  he  raised  an  army  and  gave  battle  to  his  ene- 
my. And  the  two  armies  being  in  sight  of  each  other, 
"  Oswald  ordered  a  great  cross  of  wood  to  be  made  in 
haste ;  and  the  hole  being  dug  into  which  it  was  to  be 
fixed,  the  king,  full  of  faith,  laid  hold  of  it,  and  held 
it  with  both  hands,  till  it  was  nuide  fast  by  throwing  in 
the  earth.  Then  raising  his  voice,  he  cried, '  Let  us  all 
kneel  down,  and  beseech  the  living  God  to  defend  us 
from  the  haughty  and  fierce  enemy,  for  he  knows  that 
we  have  undertaken  a  just  war,  for  the  safety  of  our  na- 
tion.' Then  they  went  against  the  enemy  and  obtained 
a  victory  as  their  faith  deserved." 

This  king  Oswald  afterwards  reigned  over  the  whole 
country,  from  the  Humber  to  the  Frith  of  Forth,  Brit- 
ons, Picts,  Scots,  and  English ;  but  having  received  the 
word  of  Qodf  he  was  exceedingly  humble,  afiable,  and 
generous  to  the  poor  and  strangers.  It  is  related  of 
him,  that  he  was  once  sitting  at  dinner  on  Easter-day, 
and  before  him  was  a  silver  dish  full  of  dainty  meats  ; 
and  they  were  just  ready  to  bless  the  bread,  when  his 
almoner  came  in  on  a  sudden,  and  told  him  there 
were  some  poor  hungry  people  seated  at  his  door,  beg- 
ging for  food ;  and  he  immediately  ordered  the  dish  of 
meat  to  be  carried  oat  to  them,  and  the  dbh  itself  to  be 
cut  in  pieces  and  divided  amongst  them.  And  St.  Ai- 
dan, who  sat  by  him,  took  him  by  the  right  hand,  and 


LEGEUDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


I 
I 


bI«Bod  bita,  Baying,  "  Hay  this  hand  never  perieh ! 
which  fell  out  iwcordiiig  la  bis  prnyer.  Thig  mo! 
Christian  Icing,  alUtr  reigning  juEtlj  and  gloriously  for 
aiao  jtara,  waa  itilbd  in  battle,  llghtitlg  Bgaioat  the 
gail  king  of  tlie  Mercians.  A  great  proof  of  the 
ily  ntlribnied  lo  him,  and  S  touch  gmatcr  proof 
the  Bending  a  dish  of  meal  from  hi*  tohle,  was  Ihii,  < 
that  lie  ended  his  life  with  a  prayer,  not  (in-  himself, ' 
for  others.  For  when  he  was  besot  with  the  weapon* 
of  his  BDcmies,  and  perceinid  ibat  he  tDOU  die,  be  prayed 
for  (he  souls  of  his  companions;  whence  came  an  old 
English  proverb,  lung  in  ihu  muuibs  of  the  pooi)le, 
"  Mny  God  have  itiercj  on  their  souls,  as  Oswald  aaid 
when  he  fell."  Ilia  hvAthcn  enem?  ordered  his  head 
and  hands  to  ho  cut  olf,  and  set  upon  stakes,  but  after- 
wordii  his  head  was  nutiod  lo  the  church  of  Landis- 
fame,  where  it  was  laid  as  a  prorious  relic  in  the  tomb 
of  Si.  Cuthbort,  lying  between  his  arniB  (hence  in  many 
pictuies,  St.  Cuthhcrt  holds  the  crowned  bead  as  his 
altribnte) ;  while  his  right  hand  was  carried  to  hia  castle 
of  Bsmborough,  and  remained  undccaycd  and 
rupled  for  many  years.  ■'  And  in  the  place  where 
was  tilled  by  the  Pagans,  fighting  for  his  t 
firm  men  and  cattle  arc  healed  to  this  day." 
it  to  he  wondered  ut^  that  the  sick  abonld  be  healed 
the  place  where  he  died,  for  whilst  he  lived  he  neror 
ceased  to  provide  for  the  poor  and  iofinn,  and  to  bestow 
alma  ou  them  and  assist  them."  In  the  single  figurta 
he  wears  the  kingly  crown,  and  carries  a  large  cross. 

The  whole  story  uf  St.  Oawald  is  rich  in  picturosquD 
subjects.  The  Bolemn  traoslatioD  of  his  remains,  first 
lo  Bardney  iu  Liucolnshire,  by  Oalhdda,  qoeeii  of  the 
Mercians,  and  afterwards  to   St.  Oswald's,  in  Glou- 


ly  for  I 

lepii^^^ 

M 

If,  b^^^l 


BT,  HILDA,  99 

Benedictines,  we  should  find  St.  Benedict  as  patriarch, 
with  St.  PaolinoB  of  York,  and  St.  Cuthbert  of  Dur- 
ham. Or,  if  the  monument  were  to  be  purely  Anglo- 
Saxon,  we  should  have  St.  Oswald  between  St.  Cuth- 
bert and  St  Bennet  of  Wearmouth  :  where  female  saints 
are  grouped  with  these,  we  should  find  St.  Helena,  St. 
Hilda  of  Whitby,  and  St.  Ebba  of  Coldinghara. 

"In  those  early  times,"  says  a  quaint  old  author 
(Dugdale),  <<  there  were  in  England,  and  also  in  France, 
monasteries  consisting  of  men  and  women,  who  lived 
together  like  the  religious  women  who  followed  and  ac- 
companied the  blessed  apostles,  in  one  society,  and  trav- 
elled together  for  their  advancement  and  improvement 
in  a  holy  life.  From  these  women  these  monasteries 
were  derived,  and  governed  only  by  devout  women,  so 
ordained  by  the  founders  in  respect  of  the  great  honor 
which  they  had  for  the  Virgin  Mary,  whom  Jesus  on 
the  cross  recommended  to  St.  John  the  Evangelist. 
These  governesses  had  as  well  monks  as  nuns  in  their 
monasteries,  and  jurisdiction  over  both  men  and  wo- 
men ;  and  those  men  who  improved  themselves  in  learn- 
ing, and  whom  the  abbess  thought  qualified  for  orders, 
she  recommended  to  the  bishop,  who  ordained  them. 
Tet  they  remained  still  under  her  government,  and  of- 
ficiated as  chaplains  until  she  pleased  to  send  them  forth 
npon  the  work  of  ministry.  And  among  these  were 
Ebba,  abbess  of  Coldingham ;  and  St.  Werburga,  ab- 
bess of  Bepandum  in  England  ;  and  St.  Bridget  of  Eil- 
dare,  in  Ireland,  who  had  many  monks  under  their 
charge. "  "  And  more  particularly  Hilda,  great- 
grandchild to  king  Edwin,  and  abbess  of  Whitby,  fa- 
mous for  her  learning,  piety,  and  excellent  govern- 
ment in  the  time  of  the  Saxons,  when,  as  Bede  relat- 
eth,  she  held  her  subjects  so  strictly  to  the  reading  of 
the  Scriptures  and  the  performance  of  works  of  right- 
eousness, that  many  of  them  were  fit  to  be  churchmen 
and  to  servo  at  the  altar;  so  that  afterwards,  saith 
he,  we  saw  five  bishops  who  came  out  of  her  monas- 
tery, and  a  sixth  was  elected,  who  died  before  he  was 


I 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  0RDEB3.    \ 


ordnined.     She  wai  a  profcaMsl  encm}' 
of  l)ie  pap&l  juriadictioD  in  this  countrr,  Bnd  oppoaed 
with  all  her  might  the  tonsure  of  priesls  aod  ibe  cele- 
bnuion  of  Easter  Recording  10  the  ItAmaa  rilool. 
pnnided  at  a  oouocil  held  in  her  own  i 
in  pregenco  of  king  Oewy,  when  these 
arffued,  but  being  decided  a^net  her,  she  yieldi 
"  She  tonght,"  wja  Bade,  •■  the  atrici  obawvimtie 
justice,  piccj,  chastity,  nnd  other  virtues,  and  ea[ 
poar«  and  rharit;,  bo  that,  aiier  tlie  esample  of 
primitive  Chriatiani,  no  person  was  there  rich, 
nana  poor,  all  being  in  common  to 
any  propenj  ;  and  her  prudence  wae  so  groat,  that 
Ooly  private  Individuala,  hot  kings  and  princes,  asked 
anil  received  her  counsel  in  religious  and  worldly  affain. 
The  people  adored  hor;  and  certain  fuBsita  which  are 
ibund  there,  having  the  form  of  snakes  coiled  up,  are 
commonly  eDppoBi>d   to   bo  vcnomons   reptiles,   thug 
clmnged  by  (he  prajcts  of  St.  Hilda.     And  in  Ibe  year 
of  tlie  incarnation  of  our  I^rd  680,  on  the  17tb  of  No- 
vomber,  this  moat  religious  servant  of  Clirist,  tho  Ab- 
bees  Hilda,  having  safiered  under  an  inUrmi^  for  seven 
years,  and  performed  many  heavenly  works  on 
died,  and  was  canned  into  paradise  hy  the  atigela,  t 
behold  in  a  riaioD  by  one  of  her  own  nuns,  then  at 
IBDCB,  on  the  same  night :  the  name  of  Chie  nu 
then  Bega  ;  but  she  altemBrds  became  famous 
the  name  of  St.  Bees." 

Si.  Hilda  should  wear  a  rich  robe  over  her  Benedi 
tine  habit,  and  hold  io  one  hand  her  pastoral  staff 
abbess  ;  in  tlie  other  hand  a  book  or  books.  St.  Hilda 
and  St.  Benedict  of  Woarraouth,  on  each  aide  of 
Cuthbert,  might  express  the  sanctity,  the  learning,  a 
what  modem  authors  would  style,  the  "  female  eleni 
of  cirilizaliou,"  proper  to  this  early  period.* 


i 


'e  nisbi 


le  CMbedrai  ii(  Ourhnm,  th( 
gn?  of  the  nibjccla  wbich 
bKlare  the  nholMitc  dtimi 


was 

dig-  i 

fFaa  I 


I 


CMDHON.THE  POET,  loi 

Of  St.  Ebba  it  is  relatedf  jliat  when  attacked  in  her 
monasteiy  by  a  horde  of  I>anish,.  barbarians,  she  coan- 
selled  her  sisterhood  to  matilaccr  tH§ir  faces,  rather  than 
fall  a  prey  to  the  adversary ;  a^d  they  all  consented. 
"  And  when  the  Danes  broke  thr^ugk  the  gates  and 
roshed  npon  them,  they  lifted  their  .;ve\k(«and  showed 
theu:  faces  disfigured  horribly,  and  cor^d'  with  blood : 
then  those  merciless  ravishers,  starting  back  ^i  such  a 
spectacle,  were  about  to  flee ;  but  their  leaders,  ])eing 
filled  with  fury  and  disappointed  of  their  prey.^drd^d 
the  convent  to  be  fired.  So  these  most  holy  ^f^n». 
with  St  Ebba  at  their  head^  attained  the  glory  of  piso^ 
tyrdom.*' 

St.  Ebba  should  bear  the  palm,  and,  being  of  royal 
lineage,  she  would  have  a  double  right  to  the  crown  as 
princess  and  as  martyr. 


In  the  monastery  of  the  abbess  Hilda  lived  Caedmon 
(a.  d.  680)  the  poet,  whose  paraphrase  of  Scripture 
history,  in  Anglo-Saxon  verse,  is  preserved  to  this  day. 
A  copy  exists  in  the  Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford,  illu- 
minated with  antique  drawings,  most  extraordinary  and 
curious  as  examples  of  Saxon  art.     (v.  Archseologia, 

vol.  XXV.) 

The  story  of  Csedmon,  as  related  by  Bede,  appears 
to  me  very  beautiful.  "  He  did  not,"  says  Bede,  "  learn 
the  art  of  poetry  from  men,  but  from  God ;  for  he  had 
lived  in  a  secular  habit  till  he  was  well  advanced  in  years, 

in  groups,  and  often  repeated,  St.  Helena ;  St  Aidan  (the  instruc- 
tor of  St.  Cuthbert  and  St.  Oswald),  as  bishop  ;  St.  Cuthbert,  as 
patron  saint  and  bishop,  l)earing  the  head  of  St.  Oswald  in  his 
arms ;  St.  Oswald  himself,  in  princely  attire,  carrying  a  large  cross, 
—  and,  again,  St.  Oswald  **  blowing  his  horn  "  ;  and  the  Venera- 
ble Bede,  who,  at  Durham,  is  Saint  BedCy  in  a  blue  gown,  and 
carrying  his  book.  I  have  observed,  that,  in  the  ancient  stained 
glass,  daric  blue  is  often  substituted  for  black  in  the  dress  of  the 
monks ;  black,  perhaps,  being  too  opaque  a  color.  The  figure  of 
St.  Bede  frtill  »tot8  as  a  fragment. 


I 


loi  LEHESUa  OF  THE  MOffASTIC  ORDERS. 

bolng  emplojod  u  One  j>t'l|i&  s^rrsiiU  ia  the 
Itry,"    And  he  kncw;t«llAt;or  litcnaum,  notof  venc. 
U)|il  (rhci'i  be  was  al  iodic,  and  die 
hurp  ('Btiiii  lo  htm^n':'u8  tarn,  be  rose  ii|i  mid  left 

gucBiB,  and  weta'jijSiSay. 

And  jt  hapiienyd  dd  b  cerlain  oceasion,  tli 
anif  Jio^  gone  iolo  the  atnble,  where 

-JO  care  for  the  liones ;  and  he  laid  hii 

tlowii.to  tieep.     And  in  hit  iloep  an  angel  appeared 
hira^Artd.atid,  ■■  Cndnioa,  sing  to  me  &  song  " ;  and  ha, 
ft^KV^^,  ■'  1  caiiDQt  sing,  and  ihcrcfuro  1  Itft  the  enl 
tnimii'ent,  and  came  hither  because  1  could 
.-  .And  [he  atliur,  aDswcriog  him,  aaid,  "  Yoa  sliali 
',  TwtwiThslanding,"     Ho  luked,  "  What  shall  I  »ing 
'And  the  angel  replied,  "  Sing  the  beginning  of  i 
beings."     Thereupon,  Cieduion  presently  began 
verses  la  praise  of  God,  the  Father  and  Creator  of  all 
tilings.      And  aiirakening  from  his  sleep, ' 
bered  all  he  hoil  Eung  iu  Iiiit  dream,  and  added  mt 
more  lo  the  aamo  Gfl«.'t  in  most  melodioos  verse. 

In  the  uiorniug  he  was  condnutod  before  the  sbl 
Hilda,  bj  whom  he  was  ordered  to  tell  his  dream, 
Mciie  his  voraea ;  and  she  and  the  learned  men 
were  irith  her,  on  hearing  him  doubled  not  that  heallS] 
en iy  grace  had  been  conferred  on  him  bjonrLordJ 
whcieforc,  the  abbess  Ililda  received  him  into  her  eomt 
muni^,  and  commanded  that  he  should  be  well  iu^ 
structud  in  the  Holy  Si-riptures.  As  he  read,  CiedmiMi 
converted  the  Haroe  into  harmoniona  VBTge.  He  sai^ 
the  creation  of  the  world,  and  the  origin  of  man,  and 
many  other  histories  from  Holy  Writ ;  the  terror  of  fa- 
tnre  jadgment,  the  pains  of  hell,  and  the  delights  of 
heaven.  And  thus  he  passed  hie  liie  happily  j  aad  as 
he  liad  aervetl  God  with  a  simple  and  pure  mind,  devot- 
ing his  good  gifts  to  hia  service,  he  died  happily.  That 
Mdgne  which  had  composed  so  many  holy  words  in 
pnuse  of  the  Croalor,  uttered  its  last  words  while  he 
was  in  [lie  act  of  signiiig  liimBtilf  with  the  cross ;  and 
tliuB  ho  fell  iulo  a.  slumber,  [o  awaken  iu  Pacadiae,  and 


4 


ST.  CHAD. 


103 


jo\n  the  hjmns  of  the  holy  angels,  whom  he  had  imi- 
ta^d  in  this  world,  both  in  his  life  and  in  his  songs.* 

ftt.  Cuthbcrt  and  St.  Hilda,  with  Cacdmon  the  poet 
and  Bede  the  historian  on  either  side,  woald  form  a 
very  beaatiful  and  significant  groap.  I  do  not  know 
that  it  has  ever  been  painted  :  if  not,  I  recommend  it  to 
the  attention  of  artists,  —  particularly  those  who  may  be 
called  apon  to  illostrate  our  northern  worthies. 

Quitting  the  Northumbrians,  we  will  take  a  view  of 
the  Benedictine  foundations  in  the  midland  districts 
among  the  Mercians  and  East  Anglians.  Here  we  find 
a  group  of  saints  not  less  eminent,  and  even  more 
picturesque  and  poetical. 


In  those  days  lived  four  holy  men,  who  were  broth- 
ers, all  of  whom  had  been  educated  in  the  monas- 
tery of  St.  Cuthbert.  The  eldest  of  these,  whose  name 
was  Cedd,  was  desired  by  Etbelbald,  the  son  of  King 
Oswald,  to  accept  some  land,  on  which  to  build  a  mon- 
astery. Cedd,  therefore,  complying  with  the  king's  re- 
quest, chose  for  himself  a  place  among  craggy  and  dis- 
tant mountains,  which  looked  more  like  lurking-places 
of  robbers  and  retreats  for  wild  beasts  than  the  habita- 
tions for  men ;  —  **  that  the  words  of  the  prophet  might 
be  fulfilled,  and  that  where  the  dragons  were  wont  to 
dwell  the  grass  and  com  should  grow,  and  the  fruits 
of  good  works  should  spring  up  where  beasts  inhab- 
ited, or  men  who  lived  after  the  manner  of  beasts." 
There  arose  the  priory  of  Lastingham,  in  the  district  of 
Cleveland,  in  Yorkshire. 

*  "  As  Geedmon's  paraphrase  is  a  poetical  variation  mixed  with 
many  topics  of  invention  and  fkncy,  it  has  also  as  great  a  claim 
to  be  considered  as  a  narrative  poem  as  Milton's  Paradise  Lost  has 

to  be  deemed  an  epic  poem In  its  first  topic,  the 

*  Cetll  of  the  angels,*  it  exhibits  much  of  a  Miltouic  spirit :  and  if 
U  were  clear  that  oar  illustrioas  bard  had  been  familiar  with  Sax- 
on, we  should  be  induced  to  thinic  that  he  owed  something  to  the 
paraphrase  of  Ossdmon.**  —  Tumer*g  History  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxont^  vol.  iii.  p.  356. 


4  LKGENVS  OF  TUB  MOSASTIC  OROESS. 


ewM  I 


And,  after  nunjr  jcvn,  Cedil  died  or  Ibe  plague, 
hi*  yijiimrpr  liroll«T  Chiul  hccnnie  aMiot.  (a.  d.  ( 
And  Oiul  WHS  t-ery  romiiut  amnng  the  p«>p1( 
tiU  holy  and  rcligioUB  Ufu  ;  and  being  at  modvsC 
harior,  and  wril  mid  in  the  Holy  Scripturea,  he  i 
clioBon  lo  bu  hixliop  uf  iho  Mrrdana  ead  IJonhumbri- 
BQi ;  and  he  act  himacIC  to  iDitnicl  [ho  people,  —  proocb- 
bg  tha  Gospel  in  towns,  in  ilio  open  couniry,  ia  cotta- 
gea,  in  TiilitgcB,  and  caatles.  He  had  hia  upiacopal  see 
in  a  plai'e  lalleil  Lichfiuld,  —  "  the  field  or  the  dead  " : 
llieie  he  linilc  a  church,  ia  which  to  preach  atid  baptize 
the  people;  and,  near  to  it,  a  babitatioa  for  himaeir, 
where,  in  rampanj  with  aaven  or  eight  brathien,  ha 
tpcot,  in  reading  and  prayinf;,  an;  spare  hours  which 
remained  to  him  Iroin  the  duties  of  his  ministtj.  And 
after  he  had  governed  iho  Church  there  gloriously  for 
two  years  and  more,  lie  had  a  vision,  in  which  hia 
brother  Cedd,  accompanied  by  the  blessed  angels,  mng- 
ing  hymns  and  r^oicing,  called  him  home  to  God  ;  and 
the  voices,  B^er  floating  above  the  roof  of  the  oraloiy, 
ascended  to  heaven  with  iuexpnssible  iweetueas.  So 
St.  Chad  knew  that  he  must  depart ;  and  having  loc- 
orameoded  his  brethren  lo  live  in  peace  among  them- 
selves and  towards  all  others,  he  died  and  was  buried. 

Such  waa  the  arij^n  of  the  Ece  and  the  cathedral  of 

■  Lichfield,  where,  since  the  year  1 148,  the  shrioe  of  St. 
Chad  waa  depoaiied,  and  held  in  great  veneration  bj 
tlte  people.  Over  the  door  of  the  present  cathedral 
there  ia  a  flgnro  of  St.  Chad  throned  as  a  bishop,  re- 
stored from  the  old  scnlpture  ;  but  every  other  vestige 
of  the  saint  perished  at  (he  time  of  the  Refomation,  or 
daring  tbe  Ta.ytif;e»  of  the  civil  wars.  I  da  not  knovr 
that  St.  Chad  han  any  attribnta  proper  lo  him  in  his 
iudividoal  character :  aa  founder  and  first  biehop  of  tha 

I  see  of  Lichfield,  he  ought  \a  wear  tbe  milra  and  paito- 
ral  vaS,  and  lo  hold  the  cathedral  in  hia  hand.  A 
choir  of  angels  ainging,  as  they  hover  above  his  head, 
woald  bo  appropriate ;  or  a  alorm  and  lightning  in  the 


ST.  GUTHLAC  105 

tempest,  to  pray  for  mercy  for  himself  and  all  mankind, 
considering  the  thunder,  and  the  winds,  and  the  dark- 
ness as  prefigaring  the  day  of  the  Lord's  judgment ; 
"wherefore,"  said  he,  "it  behooves  us  to  answer  his 
heavenly  admonition  with  due  fear  and  love." 

St.  Gdthlac  (a.  d.  714)  would  necessarily  find  a 
place  in  a  series  of  the  Mercian  Saints.    His  story  gave 
rise  to  the  foundation  of  Croyland  Abbey,  one  of  the 
grandest  of  all  the  Benedictine  communities,  famous 
for  its  libraries  and  seminaries ;  and  for  the  story  of 
Tnrketel,  so  well  and  pleasantly  told  by  Lord  Camp- 
bell, that  I  only  wish  the  pious  old  chancellor  (I  mean 
Tnrketel,  of  course)  had  been  a  saint,  that  I  might 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  inserting  him  here.     Of  St. 
Guthlac,  who  is  not  connected  with  any  existing  institu- 
tions or  remains  of  art,  there  is  not  much  to  say.     The 
legend  relates  that  "  at  the  time  of  his  birth  a  hand  of 
a  ruddy  splendor  was  seen  extended  from  heaven  to  a 
cross  which  stood  at  his  mother's  door " :   and  this 
vision  prefigured  his  future  sanctity.     Nevertheless  he 
grew  up  wild  and  lawless  in  wild  and  lawless  times ; 
and  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  gathering  a  band  of  military 
robbers,  placed  himself  at  their  head :  "  yet  such  was 
his  innate  goodness,  that  he  always  gave  back  a  third 
part  of  the  spoil  to  those  whom  he  robbed."     After 
eight  years  thus  spent,  he  began  to  see  the  evil  of  his 
ways ;  and  the  rest  of  his  life  was  one  long  penance. 
He  retired  first  to  the  monastery  of  Bepton,  rendered 
famous  by  St.  Werburga ;  there  he  learned  to  read,  and 
having  studied  the  lives  of  the  hermit  fathers  he  deter- 
mined to  imitate  them.     He  retired  to  a  vast  marshy 
wilderness  on  the  eastern  shore,  where  was  a  sort  of 
island,  as  much  infested  by  demons  as  the  deserts  of 
Egypt.     And  they  led  St.  Guthlac  such  a  life,  that  the 
blessed  St.  Anthony  himself  had  never  been  more  tor- 
mented and  scared  by  hideous  shapes  and  foul  tempta- 
tions.    Guthlac,  trusting  in  his  chosen  protector,  St. 
Bartholomew,  defied  the  demons ;  and  many  times  the 


tot  LECKSDa  OF  THE  MQSAfiTlC  ORDEi 

A  KftaHi  visited  him  in  pcraon,  Bod  dntre  them 
sea.  In  the  Bolitniio  where  he  dwelt, 
atory  ;  BFUnriLrda  a  niosl  sp[oni)id  ubnrch  sod 
/,  tinlli  upon  piles  wiih  wondrons  an  and  wig' 
dom.  and'  dodiratod  to  St.  Ennhoiomew.  The  marahes 
were  drunod  and  callivated,  and  giood  epirits  (that  En, 
bcalth,  peace,  and  indiucry]  Inlialnced  where  foal  spir- 
iu  (disease,  and  fkininc,  and  savage  ignorance)  had 
dwolc  berora. 

The  ruins  of  Crojland  Abbey  cover  twenty  acres, 
aod  stood  Bgma  in  the  midst  of  on  nDhcalthy  marsh- 
Remains  of  n  mutilated  but  once  lieautiful  sculptnre 
adorn  the  os^tom  front.  Amotig  these  is  the  figure  of 
St.  Gntblsc,  holding  a  whip,  his  proper  attribute  :  lliia 
has  been  enplaiaed  as  aliniting  to  his  severe  pemuices; 
but  among  the  relics  left  to  the  monastery  by  St.  Pegu, 
the  sister  of  St.  Guthlac,  is  "  the  whip  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew," with  which  I  suppose  he  chastised  and  drove 
away  the  demons  which  hatinted  the  hermit  saint :  this 
is  the  more  probable  inter|irelation  of  tlie  attribute. 
On  the  antique  bridge  of  Croyland  is  seen  the  throi 
figure  of  F.tfielbald,  hlng  or  duke  of  Mercia,  ibe 
founder  of  this  great  monastery. 


The  fimt  Benedictine  nunnery  in  England  w 
of  Barking,  in  Esses ;  and  its  first  ahbuas  St.  Ethel- 
berga,  of  whom  there  is  nothing  related  except  that  she 
led  a  moat  pious  and  orderly  life,  governing  hot  congre- 
gation with  great  wisdom,  studying  the  Scriptures,  and 
healing  the  sick.  She  is  represented  io  the  old  misBala 
with  her  jiasloral  slsIF  and  a  book  in  her  hand.  As 
she  was  one  of  the  few  Saxon  abbesses  not  uf  royal 
birth,  she  should  not  wear  the  crown. 


°«^^ 


A  still 


greater  S: 


necn  Ethelreda,  ' 
regarded   with    pc 


ST.  AUDREY  (  QUEEN  ETHELREDA),    107 

shipped  her  under  the  name  of  St.  Audrey,  and  effi- 
gies of  her  formerly  abounded  in  the  old  missals,  in 
stained  glass,  and  in  the  decorative  sculpture  of  the  old 
ecclesiastical  edifices  in  the  eastern  counties.  To  her 
we  owe  the  foandation  of  the  magnificent  cathedral  of 
Ely ;  and  the  most  curious  memorial  which  remains  to 
us  of  her  legendary  life  still  exists  there. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  Ina,  king  of  the  East  An- 
gles, and  Hereswida  his  wife ;  and  was  married  at  an 
early  age  to  Toubert,  prince  of  the  Gervii,  receiving  for 
her  dowry  the  isle  of  Ely.  Being  left  a  widow  at  the 
end  of  three  years,  she  was  married  to  Egfrid,  king  of 
Northumbria,  with  whom  she  lived,  say  the  historians, 
in  a  state  of  continency  for  twelve  years.  She  at  length 
obtained  his  permission  to  withdraw  entirely  from  the 
world,  and  took  the  veil  at  Coldingham.  A  year  after- 
wards she  founded  a  monastery  on  her  own  lands  at 
Ely,  where  she  lived  for  seven  years  in  the  practice  of 
those  religions  austerities  which  were  the  admiration  of 
the  time,  and  gathered  around  her  many  virgins  dedi- 
cated to  God.  Wonderful  things  are  recorded  of  her 
by  our  early  chronicles.  When  the  beautiful  lantern 
of  Ely  Cathedral  was  designed  by  Allan  de  Walsing- 
ham  (sub-prior  of  Ely,  and  one  of  the  most  excellent 
architects  of  the  time, — a.  d.  1342),  the  capitals  of  the 
great  pillars  which  sustain  it  were  carved  with  groups 
of  figures  representing  the  chief  incidents  in  the  life  of 
Ethebreda,  to  whom  the  church,  on  its  restoration  by 
bishop  Ethelwold,  had  been  originally  dedicated. 

The  subjects,  taken  in  order,  exhibit  the  chief  inci- 
dents of  her  life :  — 

1.  We  have  the  marriage  of  Ethelreda  to  Eling  Eg- 
frid :  her  father,  King  Ina,  gives  her  away. 

2.  She  is  represented  making  her  religious  profes- 
sion :  she  has  taken  off  her  royal  crown,  and  laid  it  on 
the  altar ;  St.  Wilfrid,  bishop  of  York,  pronounces  the 
benediction ;  and  Ebba,  abbess  of  Coldingham,  places 
the  veil  upon  her  head. 

3.  The  third  capital  represents  the  miraculous  preser- 


I 


log  LKCKKDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEJU 

TMion  of  the  wiot.  It  appenn  that  King  Ecfrid  re- 
pcntocl  uf  Ills  (Xiiir«WtLOn,  anrl  llirfstencil  (o  6ng  her 
from  her  ronvcnl.  She  HcJ,  wtended  lir  iwo  oom- 
pnoions,  ond  took  refuse  on  the  eumniil  of  a  rock,  n 
promontory  since  cullei]  St.  Et>l>'»  Head.  Egfrid  pur- 
■ned  hor  lo  tbe  foot  of  the  rock,  anil  would  have  ao 
complUhed  hti  porposo,  had  not  a  gudden  advance  of 
tlie  lido  mrrounded  the  rock  so  u  to  render  it  iDB£i<e»>i- 
ble ;  wliicli  was  attiibnlcd  to  the  prajen  of  the  saint 
and  hor  rompaniong.  King  Eg^d  retreated,  and  coa- 
solod  himself  by  marrrint;  anoilier  wife. 

4.  Tho  Ibarih  capital  repreionis  tlis  miraculoas 
dmuD  of  the  tiamt.  After  her  escape  from  Egfrid,  she 
croBBCd  the  Uumber,  and  sought  repose  in  a  aolilarf 
place,  while  her  two  virgins,  whose  names  were  Sa- 
wcmt  fuid  Sowenna,  waldied  beside  her.  In  her  sWp 
she  had  a  vision,  and  dreamed  that  her  staff,  which  elie 
had  stuck  into  the  ground,  had  pat  forth  leaf  nml 
branch,  and  had  become  a  tall  tree;  and,  being  much 
comfoTlcd,  she  contiuued  lier  journey. 

5.  The  next  pillar  represents  her  nm^iving  the  pssta- 
ral  stBfT,  aa  abbess  of  Ely,  from  St.  Wilircd,  archtHsbop 
of  York  I  who,  being  cme])?  persecuted  by  £rmnt- 
bur^n,  Egfrid's  second  choice,  had  fled  BOUthward)^ 
and  taken  refuge  at  EI7. 

G.  The  sixth  capital  represents  the  sicknesi  of  8t, 
Ethelrcda,  who  is  lying  on  her  conch,  with  her  pastoni 
stair  in  her  liand,  and  her  physician  beside  her.  An- 
other groap  in  the  same  capital  represents  her  intermeot. 

7.  Tbe  seventh  cnpit4il  commemorates  a  miracle  of 
the  saint,  which  is  said  to  have  occurred  about  four  hun- 
dred years  after  her  death.  There  was  a  certain  man 
whose  name  was  Britstan,  an  usurer  and  a  eon  of  Belial. 
Bi^iig  seized  with  a  i^evous  sickncts,  he  repented  of  his 
crimes,  and  resolved  10  dedicate  himself  to  God  in  the 
maoastcry  at  Ely.  But  on  his  way  thither  he  was 
overtaken  by  the  officers  of  justice  and  thcowa  into 
prison.  He  implored  the  protecliuii  of  St.  Elhelrcda; 
and  one  night,  in  hid  sleep,  S[.  llunedici;  uud  St.  Elliel- 


8T.  ETHELREDA,  109 

reda  appeared  to  him,  and  the  former  toaching  his  fet- 
ters, they  fell  from  his  ankles,  and  he  became  free.  In 
this  groap,  an  angel  is  in  attendance  on  St.  Ethelreda. 
The  other  figure  represents  St.  Sexburga,  her  sister, 
who  succeeded  her  as  abbess. 

8.  The  eighth  and  last  capital  exhibits  two  groups. 
In  the  first  St.  Sexburga,  St.  Ermenhilda,  and  St. 
Werburga  of  Chester,  are  consulting  together  concern- 
ing the  removal  of  the  body  of  St.  Ethelreda,  which  had 
rested  in  the  common  cemetery  for  sixteen  years.  In 
the  second  is  seen  the  body  of  St.  Ethelreda  undecayed 
with  the  royal  crown  on  her  head,  while  the  attendants 
express  their  astonishment  and  admiration.  On  this 
her  second  burial,  Ethelreda  was  laid  in  an  antique 
marble  sarcophagus  most  beautifully  wrought,  proba- 
bly a  relic  of  the  Romans,  but  which  the  people  sup- 
posed to  have  been  constructed  by  angels  expressly  for 
the  purpose. 

The  devotional  figures  of  St.  Ethelreda  represent 
her  richly  dressed,  as  was  usual  with  all  the  Saxon 
princess-saints  of  that  time.  St.  Ethelwold  of  Win- 
chester had  a  particular  veneration  for  her,  and  in  his 
&mous*  Benedictional  she  leads  the  choir  of  virgin 
saints,  in  a  tunic  of  gold,  with  golden  shoes,  and  a 
crown  on  her  head.  Her  proper  dress  would  be  a  rich 
mantle,  clasp<id  in  front,  worn  over  her  black  Benedic- 
tine habit;  a  crown,  to  denote  her  rank  as  princess ;  the 
white  veil  flowing  underneath  it ;  the  pastoral  staff  in 
one  hand,  a  book  in  the  other.  I  do  not  know  that  she 
has  any  particular  attribute  to  distinguish  her  from  other 
royal  abbesses ;  but  the  visionary  tree  which  sprang 
from  her  staff  might  be  introduced  at  her  side. 

St.  Ethelreda  had  a  niece,  Werburga,  daughter  of 
Wulphere,  king  of  the  Mercians,  to  whom  the  cathe- 
dral of  Chester  has  been  dedicated  since  the  vear  800 : 
she  being,  with  St.  Oswald,  still  the  tutelar  saint  of 
Chester.  She  was  brought  up  under  her  aunt,  St. 
Ethelreda,  at  Ely,  and  altogether  devoted  to  good 

*  ColL  of  the  Duke  of  Devoiuhire. 


no  LEGENDS  OF  TOE  MOSASTIC  ORDER! 

WAri»,  hsTing  founded  man;  ra1ig:ions  cdiHEet,  md, 
among  others,  the  monailrrira  at  Wmsdon,  Trencham, 
Kuptun,  aod  Hanhary,  met  nliirh  *be  pnuided  antil 
lier  death,  at  Trentbam,  about  tlio  year  708. 

Hit  alirioo  at  Chectcr  ww  nugDi&mit,  and  enriched 
with  man*  slataes.  ■'  A  part  of  this  shrine  is  no*  al 
the  nppcr  end  of  the  c'hoir,  where  it  strvos  as  a  sup- 
poner  to  a  lair  pew  erected  for  the  biiliop  of  tlie  dii> 

I  mnit  mention  herv,  Modwuna,  an  Irieh  saint,  of 
whom  a  curiona  effigy  existed  «  Stnttford-on-Avon, 
and  is  cn^vcd  in  Fisher's  Antiquiliea.  King  Egbert, 
Bays  Ihc  Irgend,  hod  an  cpiiepiie  H>n,  whom  none  of 
the  physicians  of  his  court  rould  heal ;  and  lie  wag  told 
thai  In  Ireland,  over  the  Ma,  there  dwelt  a  holy  Tirgw 
wlio  had  power  to  cure  such  diseases ;  and  thilber  tlB 
WDt  liii  son  with  mBuy  preaenu,  and  the  virgin  healad 
the  boj.  But  she  refused  ciio  gifts  of  the  king.  Than 
he  invited  her  into  England ;  and,  being  aarpraed  by 
lier  learning  as  well  as  ber  aancEilj,  he  built  Ibr  her  the 
monnstery  at  Poieswonli  in  Warwickshire,  aod  placed 
under  her  care  and  tuition  his  daughter  Edith,  who  be- 
came  afterwards  famous  as  Sc.  Edith  of  Polesworth. 
St.  Modwena,  in  this  andcnt  pictnro  above  referred  to, 
wears  the  bbck  habit  of  a  Benedictine  nun,  and  a  white 
veil ;  she  holds  a  crosier  in  one  hand,  as  lirat  abbcsa  of 
Poles  worth,  and  a  book  in  the  o^er. 

In  a  group  of  [he  early  Menaan  saints,  we  ought  lo 
find  St.  Chad  aa  bishop,  and  St.  Gulhlac  as  hermit,  St. 
Ethelrcda  and  St.  Werburga  as  princcsiea  and  abbesses, 
conupicaous,  and  admitting  of  a  very  bntautifiil  variety 
in  age,  iu  dress,  and  in  character. 


The  period  I  hare  just  reviewed,  from  about  G.W  to 
750  was  remarkable  for  great  mentui  aclivily  and  pro- 
gressive civilization,  as  well  as  for  enthusiastic  roUgiooi 


8T.  BONIFACK  m 

In  approaching  the  Danish  invasions,  which  laid  low 
cor  ecclesiastical  edifices,  and  roplungcd  the  whole  isl- 
and into  a  state  of  temporary  barbarism,  we  must  pause 
for  a  while,  and  take  a  view  of  those  Anglo-Saxon  Ben- 
edictines who  became  Christian  missionaries  in  foreign 
and  (in  those  days)  barbarous  lands.  The  apostles  of 
Friedand  and  Germany  form  a  most  interesting  group 
of  saints  in  early  Grerman  and  Flemish  art :  not  less  do 
they  deserve  to  be  commemorated  among  our  own  na- 
tional worthies.     At  the  head  of  these  we  place 


St.  Boniface,  Martyb. 

Zjot.  ftod  Oer,  Sanctns  Bonifocios.  ItaL  San  Bonifoccio.  Arch- 
bishop of  Mayence,  and  first  primate  and  apostle  of  Germany. 
Jane  6,  766. 

Habit  and  ArrRiBurBS.  —  He  appears  as  bishop,  wearing  the 
episcopal  robes  over  the  black  Benedictine  habit.  In  his  hand  is 
a  book  stained  with  blood,  or  transfixed  by  a  sword. 

Thb  Story  of  St.  Boniface  is  one  of  the  most  beanti- 
fol  and  authentic  of  the  mediaeval  legends.  As  one  of 
the  Saxon  worthies,  educated  in  an  English  Benedictine 
convent  and  connected  with  our  own  early  history,  he 
is  especially  interesting  to  us :  his  was  a  far  different 
existence  fh>m  that  of  the  good  abbot  of  Wearmouth. 
His  active,  eventful  life,  his  sublime  devotion,  and  his 
tragical  death,  aSbrd  admirable  subjects  for  Christian 
art  and  artists. 

The  sketch  of  the  history  and  mission  of  St.  Boni- 
face, which  forms  a  striking  passage  in  the  **  Essays  in 
Ecclesiastical  Biography,"  is  so  beautiful  and  compre- 
hensive, that  I  venture  to  insert  it  almost  entire. 
•  "  In  the  Benedictine  abbey  of  Nutsall,  or  Nuscella, 
near  Winchester,  poetry,  history,  rhetoric,  and  the  Holy 
Scriptures  were  taught  in  the  beginning  of  the  eighth 
century,  by  a  monk,  whom  his  fellow-countrymen  called 
Winfred,  bat  whom  the  Church  honors  under  the  name 


Ill  LEGENDS  OF.  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEMt^M 

nf  Boniftice.  Ho  whs  liorn  at  Crrdilon,  in  TtevouBhire. 
of  notile  &nd  irealtby  paninta,  who  had  rclndantlT 
jifldeil  lo  Ills  wish  to  embnce  the  moQasik  >itate. 
Hardly,  howevar,  had  he  rcsfhod  middle  lire,  wbvti  Ilia 
anociaiea  H  Natsall  disnivered  thai  ho  was  dissotiaSed 
wjih  the  pursuits  bj  which  their  own  thoughts  were  cn- 
ffroBsed.  A«,  in  his  evening  nHSliiadoiu,  ho  paeaJ  the 
long  conroutiud  avenue  of  lime-treea.  —  or  aa,  in  the 
night-watrhcs.  he  knelt  before  the  eracifix  suspended  in 
hii  rell.  he  wu  still  consdona  of  a  v<»cc,  andible  thongh 
Inartit-ulatp,  whiFh  repeated  to  him  the  Divine  injnnc- 
tioD  to  'i^  and  preach  the  Goepel  to  all  nations.' 
Then,  in  mcnta!  vision,  waa  seen  atretchisg:  oat  before 
bim  the  land  of  his  Germaji  aneescij;  where,  beneath 
the  vail  of  the  cnstoms  doseribed  by  Twitus,  was  eon- 
realed  an  idohitry  of  which  the  htstoiian  bad  neither 
depleted,  nor  probably  conjectured,  the  abomioations. 
To  encounter  Satan  in  this  stronghold  became  succes- 
sivel]'  the  day-drcatn,  the  passion,  and  the  fixed  resolve 
of  Bouifaca ;  until,  at  length,  abandoQing  for  iIiib  holy 
war  the  studious  repose  for  wliich  he  bad  already  abau- 
doned  the  world,  he  appeared,  in  his  thirty-sixth  year, 
n  aoUtiuy  and  unbefriended  missionary,  traversing  the 
marshy  sands  otid  the  primeval  faresta  of  Friosland. 
But  Charles  Marlel  was  already  there,  tlie  leader  in  a 
far  diiteront  contest.  Nor,  while  the  ChriBtien  mayor 
of  the  palace  was  striking  down  the  pa(,itns  with  his 
battle-axe,  could  the  pathetic  entreaties  of  the  Benedic- 
tine monk  induce  tliem  to  l>ow  down  to  the  banner  of 
the  CroBB.  He  tJieraforo  retnmed  to  Hntsall,  not  with 
diminished  zeal,  but  with  increased  knowledge.  He 
had  now  learned  that  his  sncr^sg  mnet  depend  on  the 
condaet  of  the  Eeenlar  and  spiritual  rulers  of  mankind, 


■'The  ehuptcc  of  his  monastery  chose  bim  as  their 
abbot,  bnt  at  his  own  request  the  bishop  of  Winches- 
ter annulled  [he  election ;  then,  quitting  forever  his 
native  England,  Boniface  pniHued  his  way  to  Rome  to 
Bolidit  the  aid  ol'  Pope  Gregory  II.  in  his  efforts  for  the 
lion  of  the  Gennaa  people." 


ST,  BONIFACE,  113 

This  was  in  the  year  719 ;  and  it  is  said  that  on  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  to  Borne  he  quitted  his  An^lo-Sax- 
on  name  of  Winfred,  and  assumed  that  of  Boniface. 
Having  received  his  mission  from  the  Pope,  he  travelled 
into  Thuringia  and  Bavaria :  he  again  visited  Fries- 
land,  where  Charles  Martel  now  reigned  as  undisputed 
master ;  he  penetrated  into  the  wilds  of  Saxony,  every- 
where converting  and  civilizing  the  people,  and  found- 
ing monasteries,  which,  it  should  be  remembered,  was 
much  the  same  as  founding  colonies  and  cities.  In  the 
year  732  Boniface  was  created  Archbishop  and  Primate 
of  all  Germany ;  and  soon  afterwards  King  Fepin-le- 
Bref,  whom  he  had  crowned  and  anointed,  created  him 
first  Bishop  of  Mayence.  Into  the  monasteries  which 
he  founded  in  Germany  he  introduced  copies  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  labors  and 
honors,  he  was  accustomed  to  carry  in  his  bosom  the 
treatise  of  St.  Ambrose,  "  De  Bono  Mortis."  In  his 
seventy-fourth  year  he  abdicated  his  ecclesiastical  hon- 
ors, and  solemnly  devoted  the  remainder  of  his  life  to 
the  labors  of  a  missionary. 

**  Girding  round  him  his  black  Benedictine  habit,  and 
depositing  his  Ambrose,  <  De  Bono  Mortis,'  in  the  folds 
of  it,  he  once  more  travelled  into  Friesland,  and,  pitch- 
ing his  tent  on  the  banks  of  a  small  rivulet,  awaited 
there  the  arrival  of  a  body  of  neophytes,  whom  he  had 
summoned  to  receive  at  his  hands  the  rite  of  confirma- 
tion. Erelong  a  multitude  appeared  in  the  distance 
advancing  towards  the  tent;  not,  however,  with  the 
lowly  demeanor  of  Christian  converts  drawing  near 
their  bishop,  but  carrying  deadly  weapons,  and  an- 
nouncing, by  their  cries  and  gestures,  that  they  were 
pagans,  sworn  to  avenge  their  injured  deities  against 
the  arch-enemy  of  their  worship.  The  servants  of  Boni- 
face drew  their  swords  in  his  defence  ;  but,  calmly  and 
even  cheerfully  awaiting  the  approach  of  his  enemies, 
and  forbidding  all  resistance,  he  fell  beneath  their  blows, 
"  a  martyr  to  the  faith  which  he  had  so  long  lived  and 
so  bravely  died  to  propagate.  His  copy  of  Ambrose, 
8 


H  LKCENDS  or  THE  .VO.VASTIC  t 


iUE. 


•  Do  Bono  Monit.'  rovcred  with  hb  bloofl,  was  exhih- 
iHd  durintr  muiy  inn-eeiling  centaries  Hi  Fu^ila  08  a 
nilic.  li  wtu  ronton) plated  thote  b;  man}'  who  regsrdeil 
u  (upcnlilioiu  RDd  horetiral  aome  of  the  tenets  of  BoD- 
tfiKO ;  but  no  Chnudan,  whatever  might  be  hia  o 
imliar  creed,  ever  loohed  apon  that  blood -etaiited 
rial  of  him  wilhoac  the  profoondeat  veneration. 
tinm  Ibe  apoitotic  age,  no  greater  lienefaclor  of  □ 
has  ariien  amoDg  men  than  the  monk  of  Nncsall,  unlea 
it  be  that  other  loont  of  Wittembert;,  wbo,  at  the  die- 
t«nce  of  Mven  oenturies,  appeared  to  rEfonn  and  re- 
ranilruct  tin  churclim  founded  bj  the  holy  BenediD- 

I»  not  this  a  man  whom  we  Anglo-Saxons  might  be 
prood  to  place  in  our  ccch»rBslicBl  edifices  < 

la  the  single  figures  and  devotional  pietures  St.  Boni- 
face is  represented  in  the  vpiacopal  robes  and  tnitre,  the 
crosier  in  one  hand  in  the  other  a  liook  transpien-ed 
with  a  sword.  Or  he  is  in  the  act  of  baptizing  a  con- 
vert, while  he  sets  his  foot  on  tlie  prostrate  oak,  as  a 
sign  tbut  ho  had  ovcnome  the  Drnid  EuperslitiooB. 
Such  figures  are  frcqacnl  in  German  art ;  and  doubt- 
less had  once  a  disdngniahod  place  in  the  decorations 
of  oar  DWD  abbeys  and  catlicdrols :  bat  he  is  found 
there  no  lon{;er. 

He  is  seldom  met  with  in  Italian  art.  Bonifaccio, 
the  Venetian,  boa  represented  the  martjrdom  of  his 
patron  saint ;  but  1  rather  ibink  that  this  is  the  Italian 
martyr  Booifaee,  whoso  story  has  been  related  in  the 
Heiund  TolnmD  of  Legendary  Aht. 

The  most  splendid  monument  ever  consecrated  to 
St.  Boniface  is  tlie  Basilica  which  bears  his  name,  and 
which  was  fimoded  by  King  Louis  of  Bnvaria  in  1835, 
in  celebralkjn  of  the  Iwootj-fifth  anniversary  of  his  mer- 
riagB.  TliB  interior  is  sustained  by  lixtj-ibree  pillars 
of  white  marble.  The  whole  of  the  choir  and  nave  are 
covered  with  frescos,  executed  by  ProfesBor  Hess  and 
bia  papils ;  those  in  the  choir  represeut  our  Saviour, 
■  £iaaji  Ln  EccEcBJastlcal  BLoErapJ^y,  I 


bib-  I 


ST.  BONIFACE,  115 

and  on  each  side  his  mother  Marj  and  St.  John  the 
Eyangelist ;  beneath,  in  a  line,  stand  St.  Benedict  and 
the  most  celebrated  of  those  teachers  of  the  Christian 
fiuth  who  preached  the  Gospel  in  Bavaria,  —  St.  Boni- 
face, St.  Willibald,  St.  Corbinian,  St.  Rupert,  St.  Em- 
meran,  St.  Cylien,  and  St.  Magnus,  abbot  of  Fiissen,* 
ail  of  whom  were  Benedictines.  Along  the  upper  walls, 
on  each  side  of  the  central  nave,  runs  a  series  of  com- 
positions in  thirty-six  compartments,  representing  inci- 
dents in  the  lives  of  all  tiiose  saints  who  preached  the 
Grospel  throughout  Germany,  from  the  year  384  down 
to  the  baptism  of  Wittikind  in  presence  of  Charlemagne 
in  785.  Beneath  these  thirty-six  small  compartments 
are  twelve  large  compartments,  containing  on  a  larger 
scale  scenes  from  the  life  of  St.  Boniface,  in  each  com- 
partment two :  — 

1.  The  father  of  Winfired  (afterwards  Boniface),  be- 
ing healed  of  a  grievous  malady  by  the  prayers  of  his 
pious  son,  solemnly  devotes  him  to  the  priesthood.  2. 
Boniface  receives  the  Benedictine  habit.  3.  He  leaves 
the  monastery  at  Nutsall,  and  embarks  at  the  port 
of  Southampton  for  Bome.     4.  He  arrives  at  Rome. 

5.  Pope  Gregory  II.  consecrates  him  as  missionary. 

6.  Boniface  crosses  the  Alps  into  Germany.  7.  He 
preaches  the  Gospel  in  Friesland.  8.  He  receives  the 
papal  command  to  repair  to  Rome.  9.  Pope  Gregory 
creates  him  Bishop  of  the  new  converts.  10.  Return- 
ing to  Germany,  he  is  miraculously  fed  and  refreshed 
in  passing  through  a  forest.  11.  He  hews  down  the 
oak  sacred  to  the  German  divinity  Thor.  12.  He 
founds  the  bishoprics  of  Eichstadt  and  Wurzbourg. 
13.  He  founds  the  great  monastery  of  Fulda.  14.  The 
solemn  consecration  of  the  monastery.    15.  He  receives 

*  In  the  Belle  Art!  at  Venice,  there  is  a  charming  picture  bj 
Clma  da  Conegliano,  of  the  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas.  On  one 
side  stands  a  bishop,  called  in  the  catalogue  St.  Magnus  *,  on  what 
authority  I  do  not  know,  nor  why  a  Bavarian  bishop  should  be 
represented  here,  unless  as  the  patron  of  the  donor  of  the  pio- 
ture. 


ti6  LF.Gf:NDS  OF  THE  M0!fA8TIC  ORDERS. 


into  hii  inonutBrjr  St.  Georfe  of  Dtncht  u  k  diild. 
16.      Ho  iT"»ne  Pupin  d'HrnsUil  King  of  the  Franks. 

(Man'h  I,  7&I.)  IT.  He  i»  rreaied  Hnt  Archbiaho|i 
of  Mnyrliri!.  1 S.  Bo  rfxi^ns  liu  archiepisFOpal  tligiiLlji, 
rcsuniis  llie  hiil)[t  of  a  simple  mouk,  aod  prepsrcs  to 
dejuirt  on  liis  teurad  mission.  1 9.  He  suffers  msrtjis 
ilom  at  the  handi  of  iho  hsrbariaiu.  'JXi.  Hi«  rBmainH 
am  traroB  to  Haycnco,  uid  fiaallj  deposited  in  bis 
moQiulor;  u  Fuldn. 

I  have  given  the  list  of  subjects,  beeaiue  it  Tdll  he 
found  Dseful  and  euggcattve  both  to  artists  and  iravpl- 
Icn.  Tbe  fres(!oa  have  been  executed  with  great  caru 
iu  a  large,  chaste,  simplo  style.  The  dress  of  the  saiul, 
the  shan  blaelc  eleevekes  tuBic  over  the  white  cassodi, 
ia  the  traveHing  and  woiiing  coatojoe  of  the  Bcnedic- 


In  the  time  of  St.  Boniikea  two  Saxon  brothars  left 
England  to  preach  tlie  Gospel  in  WesTphalia.  (a.  d. 
mb,  or  700,  Oct.  3.)  These  brothers,  wlio  were  twins, 
were  baptized  by  the  eame  iume,  hut,  being  diverse  in 
hair  and  comp1e:)iion,  were  distinguished  as  St.  Ewau> 
TRB  Black  and  St,  Ewals  the  Fair.  Having 
studied  for  some  time  in  Ireland,  tlien  famous  fbr  its 
seminaries  of  learning,  the;  embarked  on  their  mission, 
enrouragiog  each  other,  and  singing  pssImB  and  hymns 
hy  the  way,  and,  passing  diroagh  Fnesland,  reached  in 
safetj  the  frontiers  of  Westphalia ;  there  they  required 
to  be  conducted  lo  the  lord  of  tlie  conuCry,  that  they 
might  obtain  his  permission  to  preach  the  Gospel  among 
Ilia  people  ;  but  the  ignortiDt  and  barbarous  infldcls  of 
tbe  neighborhood  fall  npon  tliem,  mnrdered  them  wuel- 
ly,  and  threw  their  bodies  into  the  river.  A  light  was 
seen  lo  hover  above  [ho  spot,  and,  search  being  made, 
tbe  bodies  of  the  martyrs  worn  found,  and,  by  order  of 
Pepia  d'Herislal,  buried  at  Cologne,  in  the  ehurcli  of 
St.  Cnnibert.     They  am  venerated  as  tbe  patron  saints 


of 


Ther 


s  pictures  ill  us 


88.  EWALD.  117 

story  of  these  brother  martyrs,  which  appear  to  have 
been  executed  by  Martin  Hemskirk,  for  the  church  of 
St.  Cunibert:  — 

1.  The  two  brothers,  distinguished  as  the  Black  and 
the  Fair  Ewald,  stand  together;  the  former  carries  a 
sword,  the  latter  a  club.  2.  The  brothers  depart  on 
their  mission.  3.  St.  Ewald  the  Fair  heals  a  possessed 
woman  in  presence  of  Radbrad,  duke  of  Frlesland.  4. 
The  brothers  defend  their  faith  before  the  judge.  5. 
One  of  the  brothers  stands  before  a  pagan  emperor. 

6.  St.  Ewald  the  Fair  is  beaten  to  death  with  clubs. 

7.  The  Martyrdom  of  St.  Ewald  the  Black.  Two  are 
engraved  in  the  Boisseree  Grallery. 

The  attitude  of  St.  Ewald  in  the  scene  of  the  mirsr 
cle  is  precisely  that  which  I  once  saw  assumed  by  a 
famous  mesmerist,  when  throwing  a  patient  into  a  mes- 
meric sleep. 

Drayton,  in  his  Polyolbion  (Song  24)  celebrates  a 
long  list  of  the  saints  whom  we  sent  from  England  to 
other  countries,  and  among  them  he  gives  a  conspicu- 
ous place  to  these  brothers  : 

**8o  did  the  Ewaldi  there  most  worthily  attain 
Their  martyr's  glorious  types,  in  Ireland  first  approved, 
But  after,  in  their  zeal,  as  need  required  removed, 
They  to  Westphalia  went,  and  as  they  brothers  were, 
80  they,  the  Christian  foith  together  preaching  there, 
The  old  pagan  Saxons  slew,  out  of  their  hatred  deep 
To  the  true  faith,  whose  shrines  brave  CuUen  *  stiU  doth  keep.** 

St.  Swidbert,  an  English  Benedictine  monk,  left  his 
monastery  in  Northumberland  to  preach  the  Gospel  to 
the  heathen  in  Friesland  and  the  duchy-of  Berg.  (March 
1,  A.  D.  690.)  He  built  a  great  monastery  in  Kaisers- 
werdt,  on  the  Rhine,  six  miles  below  Dusseldorf.  In 
a  picture  by  B.  de  Bruyn  (Munich  Gal.)  he  is  repre- 
sented as  bishop,  holding  up  a  star  in  both  hands,  which 
Eiay  be  a  symbol  of  the  rising  light  of  the  Gospel,  which 
be  preached  in  that  district.     He  died  in  713. 

*  i.  e.  Cologne. 


I 
I 


Il8  LEGENDS  OF  THE  SIONASTIC  ORDERS,  V 

Tbe  compaaioD  picture,  of  the  ume  giie,  repreeents 
Si.  CuiiibcTt.  who  was  bi«li<^  of  Colugnc,  and  counsel- 
lor of  Kinp  Dflgobert  nni]  Buvcml  of  liia  siieteaMire,  and 
lie  WW  bIki  the  iatimato  friend  of  Pepin  d'Herialsl. 
(eeo.)  l(e  gwerned  tlu:  diooso  of  Cologne  during 
thirty-ieven  yean,  and  one  of  the  moet  imdept  churches 
of  time  ODcioot  dtj  bears  hia  naniQ.  AecordiDg  to  the 
/ogend,  It  wag  S^  Cunibort  wlio  discovered  tlie  a 
wheie  St.  Ursala  and  her  companions  lay  baried,  L 
directed  thither  by  a  dove.  There  in  a 
of  tliii  prelate  painted  by  B.  de  Brnyn  (Mnnieh  G 
oue  of  the  old  Cologne  school,  probably  for  his  ebiui 
he  IB  roprescniod  as  bishop,  holding  a  church  in  ) 
hand ;  liis  proper  attribute  is  a  dove. 

I  Rinsl  mention  one  more  of  these  old  Benedictil 
misEionarics,  who  has  been  illuslraled  ia  Flemish 
St.  Lievett  was  bom  and  educated  in  Ireland,  tlieu  fir 
mous  (or  its  eixlesiasticat  schools.  After  being  conse- 
crated hisbop  in  his  nudvo  land,  he  was  csJIed  oa,  or 
believed  hiniBcIf  inspired,  Co  praach  the  Gospel  in  the 
Low  CooDtries,  where  so  many  mnrtjra  hnd  already 
preached,  and  he  was  destined  to  add  to  the  number. 
While  preaching  and  baptizing  near  Ghent  ho  ivas 
eroelly  murdered,  the  infnrialed  pai^ns  having  lirsC 
torn  out  his  tongue  and  then  cut  off  bis  head.  His 
boateaa,  a  Christiaa  hidy,  and  her  infant  son  (called  St. 
BrictiUB,  or  St.  firice),  were  skin  with  him.    (G56.) 

St.  Lievcn  was  a  poet,  and,  among  oilier  produc- 
tions, eompoecd  a,  hymu  in  honor  of  St.  Bavon,  witllin 
whose  church,  at  Ghent,  bis  icniains  are  still  preserved. 
He  is  Eometimea  reprCKenled  as  a  bishop,  holdin);  his 
own  tongue  with  a  pair  of  tonga.  Ruhens  pointed  the 
horrible  Martyrdom  of  Si.  Lieven  (Mu6&  Brna 
with  most  horrible  skill,  for  the  allar-pjoco  of 
in  ibe  Jesuits'  Church  at  Ghent. 


with  St.  Boniface  and  tile  early  Gi 


8T.  WALBVRGA.  119 

ornament,  and  in  the  stained  glass  of  the  German 
churches,  we  find  two  famous  female  saints,  St.  Wal- 
BUBGA  and  St.  Ottilia. 

The  various  names  borne  by  the  former  saint,  accord- 
ing to  the  various  localities  in  which  she  has  been 
honored,  in  Bavaria,  Alsace,  Poitou,  Flanders,  and 
England,  testify  to  her  popularity ;  —  she  is  St.  Wal- 
pnrgis,  Walbourg,  Valpurge,  Gualbourg,  and  Avan- 
gour.  Her  Anglo-Saxon  name,  Walburga,  is  the  same 
as  the  Greek  Encharis,  and  signifies  gracious.  She  was 
the  niece  of  St.  Boniface,  and  sister  of  St.  Willibald. 
When  her  uncle  and  brother  had  decided  on  bringing 
over  from  England  a  company  of  religious  women,  to 
assist  in  their  missions  among  the  pagans,  by  teaching 
and  by  example,  Walburga,  after  passing  twenty-seven 
years  in  the  monastery  of  Winbum,  in  Dorsetshire, 
set  forth  with  ten  other  nuns  (a.  d.  728),  and  repaired 
to  Mayence  ;  thence  her  brother  Willibald  removed  her 
to  Eichstadt,  and  made  her  first  abbess  of  the  Benedic- 
tine nunnery  at  Heidenhaim,  about  half-way  between 
Munich  and  Nuremberg.  Walburga  appears  to  have 
been  a  strong-minded  and,  for  her  time,  a  learned  wo- 
man. She  is  the  author  of  a  Latin  history  of  the  life 
and  mission  of  her  brother  Willibald ;  she  governed  her 
sisterhood  with  such  a  strong  hand,  and  was  so  efficient 
in  civilizing  the  people  around  her,  that,  after  the  death 
of  St.  Willibald,  she  was  called  to  Eichstadt,  and  for 
several  years  governed  the  two  communities  of  monks 
and  nuns.     Her  death  took  place  about  the  year  778. 

Like  many  of  the  religious  women  of  that  time, 
Walpurgis  had  studied  medicine  for  the  purpose  of 
ministering  to  the  poor.  The  cures  she  performed, 
either  through  faith  or  skill,  were  by  the  people  at- 
tributed solely  to  her  prayers.  After  her  death  she  was 
laid  in  a  hollow  rock,  near  the  monastery  of  Eichstadt, 
a  spot  where  a  kind  of  bituminous  oil  exuded  from  the 
stone.  This  oil  was  for  a  long  time  supposed  to  pro- 
ceed from  her  remains,  and,  under  the  name  of  Wal- 
purgis oil,  was  regarded  by  the  people  as  a  miraculous 


I20  LEGEXOS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OKDERB.  V 

ran  for  nil  mimDM'  of  diK«Ma.  Tbo  rave  W  EIcbEindl 
bncnmc  a  |ilBm  of  pllgrimiigo.  A  hoaalJfdl  churrli  aosa 
npon  llic  Kpot;  ami  otlier  chnrch™  dedicated  In  St. 
Witlmrgii  Bra  found,  dm  aa\j  in  Bnvnrta,  hut  all  orei 
Floiiilcra,  and  in  BurBu'iily,  Poiiou,  and  Lorreiiie. 
TIhto  is  a  rhnpel  dedicated  lo  ber  boiiar  \a  ibc  rallio- 
dra!  of  Cameriiury. 

Sbe  di«l  on  the  SSth  of  Fcbranrj;  but,  in  the  Gcr- 
mnn  and  Bclgic  calcndnra.  the  l»l  oF  Hay,  the  daj  on 
which  abc  was  cnalirined  lu  a  saint,  is  rocorded  u  her 
•'biuf  ftsliral,  aud  it  wu  boIqiddu^  as  such  orer  all 
(ienosn;.  On  tbra  night,  tho  famouB  Wi^parffit  NachI, 
the  witchBi  held  Ihcir  orgies  On  Iho  Blockaberg.  For 
other  wild  and  poelkul  Buperstitiona  connected  with  the 
nameofWalpni-;!!),  I  moEt  refer  Ibo  reader  to  the  Notoa 
lo  "  Fault,"  and  the  nriteri  on  German  eccletiastical 
BDliquities. 

Id  Crerman  and  FtemiEh  art.  St.  Walbnrga  is  con- 
Bpicnoue. 

She  is  represented,  in  tho  dcrotional  figures,  aa 
we&ring  the  habit  of  a  Benedictine  nuD,  with  the  cro- 
eior,  as  abbess  of  lleidenliaim,  and  in  her  haod  a  vial 
or  flank,  which  originallj  ma?  huTe  been  intended  to 
express,  in  a  general  wa;,  her  medical  skill ;  bnl,  laltcr- 
ly,  the  flaek  is  always  supposed  to  contain  the  miraen- 
lona  oil  which  fiotrcd  under  her  shrine  at  Eichatadt. 

Kubens  painted  for  the  church  of  St  Walbuiga  at 
Antwerp,  —  1.  The  Voy^B  of  tbo  Saint  and  ber  com- 
panions liom  England  lo  Mayence  :  (bey  are  in  a  small 
l>oat,  tossed  in  a  storm;   2.  The  Burial  of  St.  Wal- 

Tho  Voyage  of  Si.  Walbnrga  ia  also  among-  the  Ires- 
oos  painted  by  Hess,  in  the  diurcli  of  St.  Boniface,  nC 
Slunicb,  and  occupies  the  Cwenty-sevcuth  comparlmenl. 

With  St.  Walbnrga  ahonld  be  represented  her  most 
famous  companion,  St.  Liuba,  also  eingnlarly  learned 
for  the  time,  and  a  poetess.  She  was  greatly  loved  and 
honored  by  CliarlcniHgne  and  hia  empress  Hildcgarde, 
who  would  willingly  have  kepi  her  in  Ibcir  court  as 


ST.  OTTILIA.  121 

friend  and  conusellor,  but  she  preferred  the  seclasion  of 
her  monastery.  She  died  aboat  the  year  779,  and  was 
buried  at  Falda  by  the  side  of  St.  Boniface. 

It  appears  that  some  of  the  early  Benedictine  abbesses 
in  England  and  Grermany  were  *'  ladies  spiritual/'  (as 
the  bishops  and  abbots  were  "  lords  spiritual/')  and  had 
large  communities  of  monks,  as  well  as  nuns,  under 
their  rule  and  guidance.  We  are  told  that  five  of  these 
''  ladies  spiritual "  signed  the  acts  of  tlie  great  council 
held  at  Beckenham.  If  it  be  easy  to  mock  at  all  this, 
and  to  contemn  a  state  of  the  Church  in  which  women 
held  a  high,  a  venerable,  and  an  influential  position,  let 
OS  first  consider  all  that  the  women  of  these  early  times 
owed  to  the  sanctity  and  teaching  of  such  institutions, 
though  even  those  sacred  asylums  could  not  always 
protect  them  from  outrage  and  injustice.  To  this  day, 
women  must  feel  grateful  that  thus  was  kept  alive  in 
the  hearts  and  the  consciences  of  men  that  religious 
idea  of  the  moral  equality  of  woman,  that  reverence  for 
womanhood,  which  the  Divine  Author  of  our  faith  was 
the  first  to  promulgate,  which  is  enforced  by  his  doc- 
trine, by  his  example,  and  by  the  most  touching  inci- 
dents of  his  ministry  on  earth. 

St.  Ottilia  shares  in  the  honors  paid  to  St.  Lucia 
as  patron  saint  against  all  diseases  of  the  eyes.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  Duke  Adalrich  of  Alsace,  and  bom 
blind  (Dec.  13,  720) ;  her  father,  who  was  a  heathen, 
then  commanded  that  she  should  be  carried  out  of  the 
house  and  exposed  to  perish,  but  her  nurse  fled  with  her 
to  a  monastery.  Our  Lord  appeared  to  Erhard,  a  pious 
bishop  in  the  country  of  Bavaria,  and  said,  <<  Go  to  a 
certain  monastery,  in  which  thou  wilt  find  a  little  maiden 
of  noble  birth ;  baptize  her,  and  give  her  the  name  of 
Ottilia ;  and  it  shall  be,  that  after  thou  hast  baptized 
her  she  shall  recover  her  sight."  Afterwards  her  father 
repented,  and  dying  lefl  to  her  all  that  he  possessed. 
She,  knowing  that  her  father  was  tormented  in  purga- 
tory because  of  his  cruelty,  gave  the  first  proof  of  her 


1  LEGEXDS  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


jrftty  by  rtelivwing  him  froro  torment,  by  dinl  of  pray- 
en  Mid  iciira;  she  built  a  monaatcry  at  Hohcnburg,  in 

which  »ho  lived  in  grout  auslBrity  and  devoi" 
eoiloclud  aroand  her  ouo  hundrod  and  thirty 
walked  with  her  in  Ihc  potlis  of  ChriBttaa  perfe 
and  died  Ahbees  of  Hohenliurg:  in  720.     She  iS' 
patron  lainl  of  Absco,  and  mora  particularly  of  the  i 
of  Strasboarg. 

In  coQBBqoonce  of  hor  great  ansterities  and  inortifipa- 
tions,  she  has  token  rank  oa  martyr  in  the  Church,  and 
is  generally  rcprescnlcd  as  an  ablicas  in  the  block  Bene- 
dieline  liiibil ;  iu  onu  hand  a  palm  or  a  crosier,  in  the 
other  a  book  npon  which  are  two  eyea.  She  is  prin- 
cipally to  be  met  with  in  the  German  eretesiasticat 
soulplurp ;  and  1  have  aeon  a  pictnro  of  her  in  the  gal- 
lery at  Vienna,  in  which  she  is  represented  kneeling  at 
the  foet  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  wlio  looL  down  npon 
her  with  benignity:  oppoaite  to  her  stands  St.  Peter 

TIh!  baptiam  of  St.  Ottilia  by  Si.  Erhard  of  Bavaria 
is  one  of  the  subjeets  in  the  church  of  St.  Boniface  at 
Munich.      It  is  the  twenty.£Ccond  comportment.* 

A  distingniahed  peraon^a  in  iliia  group  of  early 
German  saints  ta  St.  Sebald.  As  an  object  of  venera- 
tion, he  belongs  exclasively  to  Nnrombcrg,  hut  the 
rarity  and  v^ue  of  some  of  the  old  prints  and  wood- 
cuts in  which  he  is  represented  have  itpread  his  name, 
at  leaat,  otnong  collectors  and  amateurs :  and  who  that 
has  visited  Nurcmbci^,  will  not  recall  the  pilgrim-pa- 
tron  of  that  moat  ancient  cily  ?  —  his  antiquated  church 
and  woodrons  shrioa  1  What  student  in  art  docs  not 
possess,  or  at  leaat  does  not  wish  ta  possess,  the  casts 
trotn  those  beanlifnl  brenies  of  Peter  Vischcr,  which 
emulate  in  feeiing,  grandeur,  and  simplicity  the  fln- 


■  In*  pictore  by  MberllneiU  In  tt 
-■  ■  -        n  mlheGmnaae 
>ISt.aiUlla«u>iu 


;li  Gallary  (H8)  ths 


8T.  8EBALD, 


123 


est  Italian  prodactions  of  the  fifteenth  century,  —  the 
bronzes  of  Ghiberti  and  Donatello  ? 

St.  Sebald  is  represented  in  the  popular  legends  of 
Karemberg  as  the  son  of  a  Danish  king :  it  is  most 
probable  Uiat  he  was  of  Anglo-Danish  lineage,  and 
that  he  lefl  England  with  Boniface  and  his  companions ; 
his  name,  anglicized,  is  St.  Siward,  Seward,  or  Sig- 
ward,  and  we  find  him  in  connection  with  SS.  Willi- 
bald  and  Willibrod,  the  Anglo-Saxon  missionaries.  It 
appears  that  he  travelled  through  the  North  of  Grermany 
to  Nuremberg,  and  took  up  his  residence  near  the  city, 
preaching,  converting,  baptizing,  and  performing  mira- 
cles until  his  death,  which  is  placed  about  the  year  770. 

St.  Sebald  is  portrayed  as  a  pilgrim  and  missionary, 
with  the  shell  in  his  hat,  a  rosary,  a  staff,  and  a  wallet; 
and  holding  in  one  hand  his  church  with  its  two  towers, 
one  of  the  most  venerable  edifices  of  the  most  venerable 
city  of  Nuremberg.  He  is  thus  represented  in  the 
statue  by  Peter  Vischer ;  in  a  fine  woodcut  by  Albert 
Diirer,  where  he  is  standing  under  an  arch  adorned 
with  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  city ;  and  in  a  most 
exquisite  little  print  by  Hans  Sebald  Beham,  where  he 
is  seated  under  two  trees,  as  one  reposing  after  a  long 
journey,  yet  still  embracing  his  beloved  church. 

The  bas-reliefs  on  his  shrine  exhibit  four  incidents 
of  his  life :  1 .  St.  Sebald,  accompanied  by  his  disci- 
ple, called  by  some  Dionysius,  and  by  others  Deocari, 
meets  WiUibald  and  Winibald,  almost  dead  with  hun- 
ger and  &tigue :  he  transforms  stones  into  bread,  and 
water  into  wine.  2.  While  preaching  to  the  people  of 
Nuremberg,  a  wicked  blasphemer  mocks  at  him  and 
his  doctrines ;  he  prays  for  a  sign,  and  the  earth  opens 
to  swallow  up  his  adversary ;  the  man,  half  buried,  calls 
aloud  for  pardon  and  mercy,  and  the  saint  rescues  him 
from  perdition.  3.  St.  Sebald  dwelt  in  a  cell,  whence 
he  made  almost  daily  journeys  to  the  city  of  Nurem- 
berg to  instruct  the  Christian  converts,  and  he  was  ac- 
customed to  rest  in  the  hut  of  a  poor  cartwright.  One 
day,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  he  found  his  host  and  all 


114  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

hi*  hmilj'  ready  to  perish  with  oold,  ibr  there  was  no 
wood  To  miikn  a  Krv.  The  eniiit  drslnxl  him  lo  lirin^ 
in  the  k-iclcf  hanpnj;  fVora  the  roof  of  the  house  and  lo 
nto  ihom  fur  tatX.  The  grace  luid  nniveif  with  which 
this  quaint  lej^vnd  is  repreMntrd  are  ponicnlariy  strik- 
ing :  the  tbinalo  flguro,  who,  on  her  kneei,  is  teediog 
the  fire  with  icitica ;  the  attiiude  of  the  saint,  who  is 
tamint;  up  the  sutei  of  his  feet  to  the  flame,  are  both 
ailrninible.  4.  St,  Scbold  requiring  fish,  to  keep 
a  tast-Aaj,  deaires  llio  poor  cartwright  lo  iio  to  the 
marUet  and  buy  il.  Now  the  lord  of  Nuremberg,  be- 
ing a  lyrant  and  a  pai^n  after  the  usaal  pDitrrn,  liad 
prohibited  his  vassals  from  baying  fish  in  the  market 
till  the  inmates  of  the  castle  were  supplied ;  the  cart- 
wright  is  seized,  and  his  eyes  are  pat  out ;  he  is  re- 
stored to  sight  by  St.  Sebald,  This  group  is  ahto 
beautUhlly  managed,  and  the  Bgure  of  the  weeping  wife 
is  conceived  and  draped  with  truly  Italian  grace.  The 
inscriptions  on  this  wonderful  shriito  inform  us  that 
Peter  Vischer  began  lo  cnst  it  in  1508,  and  flnished  It 
with  the  assistance  of  his  live  sous,  who,  with  their 
wives  und  children,  dwelt  nnder  his  roof,  and  Ebared 
his  labors  and  his  tame.  The  citizens  of  Kurennherg 
have  been  cxpellenl  Protcaianta  ibr  iba  hist  llireo  hun. 
died  years,  and  wiilistoad  most  numfully  the  Catholic 
forces  of  the  empire  in  1632;  but,  happily,  it  never 
occurred  to  tliem  to  prove  their  sincerity  or  their  piety 
by  desGcraling  and  destroying  th^r  monuments  of  an; 
and  the  ghrine  of  St.  Sebald  —  guarded  by  the  twelve 
apoetles,  crowned  with  saintly  teachcn,  while  angela 
and  serapliB,  lovely  Elysian  fonns,  hover  and  cling  like 
birds  round  its  delicate  tracery  —  alaods  just  where  it 
did  three  ci 


St,  Behno,  a  Germnn  Benedictine,  was  Bishop  of 
MeisacD  ia  Saxo^iy,  in  llic  time  of  tlie  Emperor  H^ry 
IV,  After  Henry  was  excommunicated  in  1075,  he 
attempted  lo  moke  a  forcible  entry  into  the  Cathedral 
of  MeisEen.    Beono  cioEed  the  doors  against  him,  flung 


ST.  BENNO, 


1*5 


the  key  into  the  Elbe,  and  retired  to  Rome.  On  his 
return  to  his  bishopric  he  recovered  the  key^  —  miracn- 
loosly,  says  the  story;  for  he  ordered  a  fisherman  to 
cast  his  net  in  the  river,  and  a  fish  being  caught,  the 
key  was  found  within  it.  St.  Benno  is  often  repre- 
sented in  the  old  German  prints  with  a  fish  in  his  hand ; 
in  the  mouth  of  the  fish,  a  key. 

In  the  German  church  at  Rome  (Sa.  Maria  deir 
Anima)  there  is  an  altar-piece  representing  St.  Benno 
and  the  miraculous  recovery  of  the  key.  The  painter, 
Carlo  Saraceni,  was  one  of  the  late  Venetian  school ; 
and  the  picture,  which  is  well  colored  and  animated, 
is,  in  arrangement  and  costume,  an  odd  combination 
of  the  German  and  Venetian  manner.  St.  Benno  was 
canonized  in  the  time  of  Luther,  who  made  a  most 
vigorous  attack  on  the  "  new  idol  set  up  at  Meissen.'' 
In  the  beautiful  cathedral  we  may  now  look  in  vain  for 
its  intrepid  bishop ;  we  find,  instead,  the  portraits  of 
the  intrepid  reformer  and  his  wife  Catherine,  by  Lucas 
Cranach.  Such  are  the  changes  on  which  pictures 
make  us  ponder,  —  not  idly  nor  irreverently. 


We  return  to  England. 

One  thing  which  particularly  strikes  us  in  the  history 
of  the  early  Benedictine  communities,  in  England  and 
elsewhere,  is,  their  perpetual  feuds  and  tilts  with  the 
drinking,  hunting,  fighting  barons  around  them ;  their 
quarrels,  peaceful  men  though  they  were,  with  the  sen- 
eschals and  foresters  who  invaded  their  privileges  and 
ignorantly  opposed  their  plans  of  improvement. 

Their  fields,  their  gardens,  and  their  mills  had  sprung 
up  in  heretofore  uncultivated  places,  and  were  often 
grants  of  land  reclaimed  from  some  royal  or  baronial 
forest,  in  which  the  game,  jealously  preserved,  trampled 
their  fences,  destroyed  their  corn,  and  worried  their 
sheep.  Our  Norman  kings,  —  of  one  of  whom  it  was 
said  "  that  he  loved  the  tall  stags  as  though  they  had 


ii6  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OBDESl 

bMD  hU  diildron,"  wliile  of  aootfacr  it  is  related  tliat  he 
Uii  wiigte  tvm  Imnilrcd  villages  lo  make  a  liuntiiig- 
gronnil.  —  oflon  inicrrRrcl  with  ihe  peaceful  a^cnltn- 
ral  pnnuitB  of  the  Church  vassals.  Tlie  Church,  in 
llor  torn,  had  recoarse  to  her  spiriinal  weapons.  Tints 
we  find  St.  Hugh  of  Lincoln  excommanicnting  the 
foresters  ot  King  John  ;  and  some  of  liie  earlier  Charch 
Ieg:eads  exiiibit  in  a  curioos  manner  the  feeling  whith 
existed  between  Uic  two  groat  powera  in  the  state,  the 
military  and  the  ecclesiastical.  But,  as  Mr.  Tomer 
ohaorvea,  erery  i»ttle  which  the  rhnrcliman  (ought 
adcainsc  the  king  or  the  Doble  was,  Ihen,  lor  the  adviui- 
lage  of  general  freedom. 

There  is  a  roost  pictnrosijae  stoiy  of  St.  Anselm, 
archbishop  of  CHnierbury,  ona  of  the  moat  loamcd 
and  diBtJnguished  of  the  canonized  chnn.'hinen  of  those 
times.  The  conlemporar;  histories  are  full  of  his  (*od- 
tcats  with  that  uncivilized  and  irreligioos  harbariiin, 
William  Itufiu.  Aniielin,  as  archbishop,  presided  in 
the  coaooil  wherein  it  was  forbidden  10  soil  the  setts 
with  the  land  as  though  they  had  been  cattle,  which 
was  formerly  the  cuitom  in  Eogtaod.  But  the  alory  I 
am  now  going  to  relate  exhibits  him  merely  as  op- 
posed to  the  rnde  nobks  of  that  age.  One  day,  as  bo 
was  riding  to  his  manor  of  Herso,  a  hare,  pursued  by 
the  hantsman  and  dogs,  ran  under  the  housings  of  Xia 
mule  aud  cowered  there  for  refuge:  the  hounds  stood 
at  bay ;  the  foresters  laughed ;  but  St.  Anselm  wept, 
and  said,  "  This  poor  hare  reminds  me  of  the  soal  of  a 
■inner,  beset  by  fieods  impalienE  to  seize  their  prey." 
And  ha  forbade  them  to  pursue  the  creature,  which 
limped  away,  while  hounds  and  liuntamau  remained 
motionless  as  if  bound  by  a  spell. 

The  famous  German  legend  of  the  hermit  and  the 
wild  huntsman  seems  to  have  originated  in  a  similar 

'      *■  that  the  pretty  story  of  St,  Anselm 


I  doni 
Dale  Abbey  I  found  illuBtrotcd  ii 


ri-'pre 


a  legend  t) 


8T,  EDMUND.  127 

glass  in  Morley  Church,  in  Derbyshire.  There  are  five 
small  subjects.  In  the  first  the  abbot,  being  aggrieved 
by  the  trespasses  of  the  game  which  had  devoured  his 
wheat  in  the  green  blade,  is  seen  shooting  the  deer  with 
a  cross-bow.  In  the  second,  the  king's  foresters  com- 
plain of  him,  and  the  king  has  a  label  from  his  mouth 
on  which  is  written,  "Bring  ye  him  before  me."  In 
the  third  and  fourth  he  is  in  the  presence  of  the  king, 
who  kneels  at  his  feet,  and  grants  him  as  much  land 
as  between  sun  and  sun  he  shall  encircle  by  a  furrow 
drawn  with  his  plough,  to  which  he  is  to  yoke  two 
stags  caught  wild  from  the  forest :  the  inscriptions,  "  Go 
take  them  and  tame  them  ** ;  "  Go  home  and  take  ground 
with  the  plough."  In  the  fifth  compartment  he  is  plough- 
ing with  the  two  stags ;  the  inscription  is,  "  Here  St. 
Robert  phweth  with  them." 

There  is  a  version  of  this  legend  in  a  collection  of 
Ballads  by  William  and  Mary  Howitt;  but  the  turn 
which  they  have  given  to  the  story  differs  altogether 
from  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  real  significance  of  the 
legend.  The  monks  would  hardly  have  placed  in  their 
great  window,  over  the  altar,  a  series  of  pictures  com- 
memorating their  own  trespasses :  that  they  should 
commemorate  the  wrongs  done  to  them,  the  invasion 
of  their  ancient  charter,  and  the  amends  granted  by  the 
kiog,  seems  perfectly  intelligible. 

These  curious  fragments  of  glass  were  brought  from 
a  window  of  Dale  Abbey,  together  with  a  part  of  the 
mins,  which  have  evidently  been  used  in  building  the 
north  side  of  the  little  church  at  Morley. 


St.  Edmund,  Kino  and  Martyr. 

A.  D.  870.    Dec.  12. 

Thb  history  of  Ragnar  Lodbrog,  and  the  first  inva* 
Bion  of  the  Danes,  may  be  found  in  most  of  our  chronic 
elers.  The  ecclesiastical  legend,  as  connected  with  St. 
Edmund  the  Martyr,  is  exceedingly  picturesque,  and 


liS  LEGENDS  OF  THE  HOSASTIC  ORDERS. 

the  pEoI  borron  am  Sere  •oflcnt4  hy  t  tmI  of  religioiu 
poetrj.  and  gmnftil  ■iid  inrtruPtive  fictioa. 

I^llimi;.  who  wiiR  of  ihc  royal  nuw  oT  the  North- 
mcn.  dwell  OD  ilie  miutt  of  Dfrnniirli.  One  day,  talcing 
hit  hawk  on  bis  bond,  ha  ireal  ooi  fouling  in  a.  smaJI 
RkilT. 

A  storm  mine  on,  tknil,  after  belni;  tossed  about  for 
savcral  Ann,  \\e  wits  driven  ujion  ihe  Eugliah  eoast,  at 
R«ilhBBi  ia  Nnrfbtk,  Tlic  |>m|>[o  or  the  eonnny  cati- 
rted  him  to  Edtuund  tho  king,  wbo  reigned  over  Ifa 
Ehsi  ADgles. 

Edmund  was  thvn  io  tho  bloom  of  youth,  a  ganlfe 
and  DeeompliHhcd  jirinre;  mid  Lodbrogwaji struck irith 
wonder  at  tliu  sptcnilor  of  a  roort  which  so  far  exceeded 
in  civilizalioa  all  he  had  left  in  his  own  couDtry.  Bd- 
mand,  on  his  part,  was  attrsrted  by  the  inuneDM 
■trcnglh  of  tbe  Dane  and  his  skill  in  the  ohaie.  But 
the  king's  huntsman  envied  liis  gaperiority;  and  ooa 
day.  when  they  were  out  hantinR  (oeetber,  he  trcBcber- 
OBEly  slew  hiru,  leaving  his  body  in  ibe  wood. 

Now  Lodbrog  had  rcaied  a  gTe)-lionud  in  King  Ed' 
tnnnd's  rourt,  which  tarried  by  hix  master's  body  and 
watchod  it ;  but  BfUr  some  days,  bdnf;  hunpy.  bo  TO' 
turned  to  the  king's  house,  aod,  after  lieing  fed,  again 
disappeared.  When  this  had  occurred  several  times, 
tbc  servants,  by  Ibc  king's  command,  followed  after 
the  dog.  and  dieeovered  the  body  of  Lodbrog  roneealed 
in  a  thicket.  Tbe  treacherous  huntsman  confij«sed  his 
erime,  and  was  sentenced  by  tbe  king  and  his  counsel- 
lors to  be  put  alone  into  the  bout  which  had  brought 
Lodbrog  to  England,  and  sot  adrift  on  the  sea;  aud  tbe 
winds  and  the  waves  carried  him  to  tbaC  pan  of  the 
const  where  dwelt  Hinguar  and  Hnbba,  tbe  sons  of 
Lodbrog.  They,  seeing  their  father's  boat,  and  con- 
cluding be  had  been  murdered,  buret  into  a  most  bitter 
weeping,  and  were  about  to  put  tbe  huntsman  to  a 
cruel  death ;  but  he,  doably  treacherous,  saved  him- 
self by  iK'CUBing  King  Edmund  of  tbe  deed,  whereupon 
they  swore  by  all  Ihcir  gods  ibut  the;  would  not  leave 


8T,  EDMUND.  129 

vnaTenged  the  death  of  their  father ;  and  they  collected 
a  great  fleet  of  ships,  in  which  eight  kings,  and  twenty 
earls,  with  their  followers,  embarked  and  steered  to- 
wards England.  They  landed  in  Northumbria,  laid 
waste  the  whole  country  from  the  Tweed  to  the  Hum- 
ber,  and  then  penetrated  into  East  Anglia.  They 
burned  and  destroyed  everything  before  them,  slew  the 
monks  of  Croyland  and  Peterborough ;  "  and  from  this 
period,"  says  the  historian  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  "  lan- 
guage cannot  describe  their  devastations :  it  can  only 
repeat  the  words,  plunder,  murder,  famine,  and  dis- 
tress ;  it  can  only  enumerate  towns  and  villages,  church- 
es and  monasteries,  harvests  and  libraries,  burnt  and 
demolished,  and  wounds  inflicted  on  human  happiness, 
and  human  improvement,  which  ages  with  difficulty 
healed." 

When  they  approached  the  dominions  of  Edmund, 
they  sent  him  a  haughty  message,  requiring  of  him  that 
he  would  relinquish  the  half  of  his  kingdom ;  whereupon 
Edmund  called  to  him  his  counsellor  Humbert,  bishop 
of  Helmham,  and  said  to  him,  **  O  Humbert !  servant 
of  the  living  Grod !  and  half  of  my  life !  the  fierce  barba- 
rians are  at  hand,  and  oh !  that  I  might  fall,  so  that 
■my  people  might  thereby  escape  death ;  for  I  will  not, 
through  love  of  a  temporal  kingdom,  subject  myself  to 
a  heathen  tyrant."  Then  the  bishop  replied,  "  Unless 
thou  save  thyself  by  flight,  most  beloved  king,  these 
fierce  pirates  will  presently  destroy  thee."  But  the 
king  absolutely  refiised  to  fly ;  for  said  he,  "  I  will  not 
survive  my  faithful  and  beloved  friends ;  it  is  nobler  to 
die  for  my  country  than  to  forsake  it."  Then,  calling 
in  the  messenger,  he  thus  addressed  him :  **  Stained  as 
ye  are  with  the  blood  of  my  people,  ye  deserve  the 
punishment  of  death ;  but,  following  the  example  of 
Christ,  I  will  not  pollute  my  hands  with  your  blood. 
Gro  back  to  your  master,  and  tell  him,  that  though  you 
may  rob  me  of  the  wealth  and  of  the  kingdom  which 
Divine  Providence  bestowed  on  me,  you  shall  not  make 
me  subject  to  an  infidel.     After  slaying  the  servants, 

9 


I 


IjO   LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS-* 

*\tf!  sIm>  tlia  king,  whom  the  King  of  kings  will  trana- 
IMS  into  heavon,  (here  to  reien  Torever." 

When  the  inosl  lilesscd  Kiiii;  EUiunnd  had  sent  bock 
the  mcsacnger  with  IheM  nordt,  he  ndvauced  boldlf 
igMiiBt  the  emmy  with  all  ihc  fovxB  hs  conld  raise, 
and  met  itio  Danes  anai  itie  lown  of  ThetTord,  and  gnvo 
ihetn  bsltlB ;  and  afkr  great  alaaghter  on  both  side8, 
King  Edmnnd  relreated,  and  was  afterwords  aurround- 
«d  by  HinguBT  and  Hubba,  who  had  UDit(^d  their  forces- 
He  took  rofuga  in  the  church  with  hJB  fncnd  Humbei't, 
whence  he  was  dragged  by  tlic  liaTbnrians,  l»und  to  a 
tree,  end,  After  l»iiig  seuurgcd,  bIioi  with  arrows  "un- 
til," aa  lbs  old  legend  expreases  it,  "his  body  was  stuck 
aa  fall  of  darts  aa  is  the  hedgeliog's  skin  with  spines." 
At  length,  lliey  cut  off  his  head ;  and  with  him  iiiSered 
his  (nend  and  tniieparable  companion,  Binhop  Humbert. 

Tliis  happened  on  the  12th  d^  of  Decem1>er  (or 
Nov.  SO),  in  the  year  S'O,  in  the  twenty-ninth  fear  of 

When  the  Christions  camo  (bnh  from  their  hiding- 
places,  they  soDght  everywbera  for  the  remaine  of  the 
maitjied  king ;  and  then  appeared  a  wonderful  and 
nnbeard-of  prodigy,  for  they  found  a  huge  gray  wolf 
of  the  wood  watching  over  liio  spverod  head.  Then 
ibey,  taking  it  np  Iioldly  and  reverently,  carried  it  10 
the  piace  of  interment,  followed  hy  tlie  wolf.  And, 
after  many  years  a  great  clinrch  and  monaaterj  was 
erected  over  bia  remains ;  and  around  them  rose  a  toivn, 
.  Edmunds,  ' 


lame  it  retaina  Co  this  day. 
In  the  old  cjHgics,  St.  E 


IS  accompanied  by  ilie  "  gray  wolf " 


Contemporary  with  this  martyred  king,  we 
preceptor  and  kinaman  of  (he  great  Alfred,  1 
He  WB9  a  monk  of  Glastonbury,  and  it  is  recorded  ^ 


8T.  8WITHEN.  131 

Mm  that  he  visited  Bome  seven  times,  was  very  learned, 
mild,  religious,  fond  of  singing ;  <<  humble  to  all,  affable 
in  conversation,  wise  in  transacting  business,  venerable 
in  aspect,  severe  in  countenance,  moderate  even  in  his 
walk,  sincere,  upright,  calm,  temperate,  and  charitable/' 
This  good  man  is  said  to  have  reproved  Alfred  for  his 
faults,  and  consoled  him  in  his  misfortunes.  He  lived 
for  a  time  in  a  wild  solitude  in  Cornwall,  and  died  in 
878.     Two  towns  in  England  bear  his  name. 

He  should  be  represented  as  an  aged  man  with  a 
venerable  beard,  wearing  the  black  habit  of  his  Order, 
and  a  pilgrim's  staff  and  wallet,  to  signify  his  frequent 
joumeyings. 

St.  Swithbn  shared  with  St.  Neot  the  glory  of 
educating  our  Alfred.  (862.)  He  was  chancellor  under 
Egbert  and  Ethelwolf,  and  "  to  him,"  says  Lord  Camp- 
bell, <<the  nation  was  indebted  for  instilling  the  rudi- 
ments of  science,  heroism,  and  virtue  into  the  mind  of 
the  most  illustrious  of  our  sovereigns.''  He  also  ac- 
companied Alfred  on  his  pilgrimage  to  Rome.  He 
was  bishop  of  Winchester ;  a  learned,  humble,  and 
charitable  man;  a  devout  champion  of  the  Church; 
and  munificent  in  building,  like  most  of  the  prelates 
of  that  time.  It  is  related  of  him  that  while  presiding 
over  the  erection  of  a  bridge  near  his  city  of  Win- 
chester, a  poor  old  woman  complained  to  him  that 
some  insolent  workman  had  broken  all  the  eggs  in  her 
basket ;  whereupon  the  good  bishop  restored  them  all; 
or,  according  to  the  popular  legend  which  converts  the 
simple  act  of  justice  and  charity  into  a  miracle,  he  re- 
stored the  broken  eggs  by  making  them  whole.  He  had 
ordered  that  his  body  should  be  buried  among  the  poor, 
outside  the  church,  «  under  the  feet  of  the  passengers, 
and  exposed  to  the  droppings  of  the  eaves  from  above." 
When  his  clergy  attempted  to  remove  the  body  to  a 
more  honorable  tomb  inside  the  church,  there  came  on 
such  a  storm  of  rain  as  effectually  stopped  the  proces- 
sion ;  and  this  continued  for  forty  days  without  inter- 


I 


I  LEGEXDS  OF  TBE  MOSASTJC  ORDERS^ 

1,  till  the  project  wu  abMidoncd,  and  bte  ivmaitu 
ra  tuflercd  to  real  in  the  hamble  grave  lie  liud  chosen 
for  bimielf.  St.  Swiihen  figures  in  onr  Proiesiaat 
IS  the  JapittT  Pluniua  of  onr  Siucon  anceBWra : 
and,  in  thia  chaiaoter,  perhaps,  a  natenpoui  would  be 
bis  most  appropriate  allribule :  bat  ha  hoE  some  graver 
(laimB  to  rcvcrencv.  Ue  OD);ht  to  be  coaapieiioaa  in  a 
series  of  our  soutbcm  canoniied  wortliies,  bearing  llie 
cupe,  mitre,  and  pastontl  etalT  oA  biiliop,  and  the  grmt 
seal  Bs  chancellor;  aud,  thus  diuingniebod,  ba  sbDuliI 
ba  placed  in  roimectlon  with  the  kinglj  Alfred,  the 
wise  St.  Neat.  St.  Duaiton  the  skilful  aniQcer,  aod." 
Ethelwold  the  munificent  scbolar. 


St.  DnMSTAN. 
1.0.  BSa.     HnirlS. 


Is  the  history  of  our  earlier  English  hierarchy,- 
DtTHSTAH  stands  out  a  conspicuous  figure  ;  but  the 
ors  in  which  bo  is  portrayed  are  aa  contnutwl 
and  day.  In  the  hands  of  some  of  our  historians  be 
sppeuB  a  demon  of  ambitibn  and  cruelty.  1  recollect 
(hat  my  oirn  early  impreseions  of  him,  afiar  reading 
sentimental  rersions  of  the  slory  of  Edwin  and  Elgiva, 
were  revolting ;  I  couid  think  of  him  only  as  a  bigoted 
and  ferocious  priest.  The  Blory  of  the  Devil  and  the 
red-hot  tongs,  adding  a  touch  of  the  groicEque,  com- 
pleted the  repulsive  picture.  More  extenEive  sources 
□f  information,  and  awakened  reflection  aJid  comparison, 
have  considerably  modified  these  impressions.  Dun- 
stan  waa,  in  ^l,  one  of  the  moat  striking  and  interest- 
ing characters  of  the  times ;  and  not  merely  as  a  subject 
of  art,  but  as  bemg  himself  an  artist,  be  must  he  com- 
noraoreted  here. 

He  was  born  in  the  year  925,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
reign  of  Atbelstan,  (he  grandson  of  Alfred.  His  early 
years  were  pnssed  in  the  neighborhood  of  Glaslonbory, 
where  he  nherwards  became  a  professed  monk.      Ho 


i^^J 


ST.  DUNS  TAN. 


^33 


profited  bj  all  the  means  of  instmction  which  that  great 
seminary  placed  at  his  disposal.     He  became,  not  onlv 
learned  in  books,  but  an  accomplished  scribe,  and  made 
himself  master  of  those  arts  which,  according  to  the 
rule  of  the  Order,  were  carried  on  within  the  walls. 
He  was  a  painter,  a  musician,  and  an  excellent  artificer 
in  metal.    He  constructed  an  organ  "  with  brass  pipes, 
filled  with  air  from  the  bellows,  and  which  uttered  a 
grand  and  most  sweet  melody."     (Bede.)     In  those 
days,  when  a  complete  and  weU-written  copy  of  the 
Scriptures  was  a  most  precious  possession,  such  volumes 
were  frequently  enclosed  in  caskets  of  metal,  adorned 
with  figures  of  our  Saviour,  the  Virgin,  and  the  Apos- 
tles ;  or  guardian  angels  spread  their  wings  over  them, 
as  over  the  ark  of  old.    Some  curious  and  elegant  speci- 
mens of  the  piety  and  skill  of  the  early  monks  are  still 
preserved,  and  arts  were  thus  kept  alive  which  would 
else  have  perished.      Dunstan,  like  St.  Eloy,  whose 
story  has  been  already  related  (Sacred  and  Legend. 
Art),  was  a  cunning  artificer  in  metals.     "To  have 
excelled  his  contemporaries  in  mental  pursuits,  in  the 
fine  arts,  though  then  imperfectly  practised,  and  in  me- 
chanical labors,  is  evidence  of  an  activity  of  intellect, 
and  an  ardor  for  improvement,  which  proclaim  him  to 
have  been  a  superior  personage,  whose  talents  might 
have  blessed  the  world."    (Turner's  Anglo-Saxons.) 
He  repaired  at  a  very  early  age  to  court,  where  he  was 
at  first  much  beloved  by  King  Edmund,  who  took  par- 
ticular delight  in  his  musical  talent,  which  was  then 
rare,  and  which,  added  to  his  skill  in  mathematics,  his 
mechanical  dexterity,  and  the  power  he  obtained  over 
the  king,  exposed  him  to  the  imputation  of  sorcery. 
His  enemies  persuaded  the  king  that  he  was  assisted  by 
a  demon ;  and  Edmund  reluctantly  drove  him  from  his 
presence.    Some  time  afterwards,  as  the  king  was  hunt- 
ing, having  outstripped  his  courtiers,  it  happened  that 
the  stag  and  the  hounds  in  pursuit,  coming  suddenly 
Ao  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  fell  over  and  were  dashed  to 
pieces.     The  king  following  at  full  speed,  and  seeing 


134  lEGKXJia  OF  TBt:  MOf/ASrif  OKDERt 

Iho  precl)Mce,  andMPond  M  rein  id  hia  horae.     Bat, 

Qtutblo  lo  do  K,  nnd  bwId);  liia  impundiiig  deelruction, 
be  recommeiided  liiinMlf  in  (lotl  inpnyer;  —  nri^aUing, 
mnd  Bi  tlw  Himc  time  rcpencitig,  bis  injoslice  lo  Dou- 
■na.  Bh  bane,  on  reaching  the  edge  or  the  precipice, 
iiiBtaad  of  lunitiliiig  lieBdlong,  aiuud  sdll,  trembUng  and 
IKuUng.  Tlia  king  waa  aaved :  he  sent  for  Dunstnu, 
wliD  had  retired  mcaDtime  to  bis  rell  ai  GlHStanbnrT, 
when  ho  was  owupiel  with  bis  naual  parsDits,  and 
restored  him  to  favor. 

Tbe  ramoiu  sloiy  of  Ibe  Devil  seems  lo  be  referted 
la  this  period.  Due  oight,  as  Diuistoji  was  working  at 
bU  foeiio,  tbe  most  lerribls  bowls  nnd  mes  were  heard 
10  proceed  from  bis  cell.  The  Devil,  as  ha  related, 
had  visited  him  in  the  form  of  a  beantiliil  woman,  and 
endeavored  lo  tempt  bim  trom  his  holy  work,  lie  bad 
seized  the  disguised  demon  by  the  nose  with  his  red- 
bot  Uiogs  whiuh  bad  eaueed  him  lo  roar  ivitb  pain,  and 
lo  flee  discomfited.*  A  much  more  tiesutiful  legend 
is  thai  which  relates  that  on  a.  certain  day,  as  Dauslan 
sat  readiBg  the  Scriptures  in  his  cell,  his  harp,  wbicb 
bang  on  a  peg  against  tin  wall,  sounded,  natoached 
by  human  bands  ^  for  an  angel  played  on  it  tbe  hymn 
Gaadaile  nninu,  to  the  grvat  delight  and  solace  of  tbe 
holy  man.  Danatan  was  a  poet  and  an  artist;  and 
hLicr  poets  have  beard  in  ibo  chords  of  a  liarp,  swept 
by  the  "desultory  bream,"  now  the  "full  releslial 
i:hoir,"  chanting  "the  lofty anthcra " ;  now  the  wail- 
ing of  an  imprisoned  spiric;  and  anon,  the  soft  cooi- 
plninings  of  love.     There  needs  no  miraebj  here. 

There  was  a  certain  royal  lady  at  this  time,  whoaa 
naiiio  was  Elbelfi^da,  who  ponicularly  admired  llie  laU 
euls  of  DuQstan,  and  voneraud  bis  sanctity.    For  her 


is  lotd  ol  BE.  ELuy. 


he  is  isld  to  liavB  designed  the  pattern  of  s  robe  which 
Ehe  emUroidered  with  her  own  hands.  The  prohaliilitj 
IB.  diat  Danafan  drew  the  design  Tor  some  reatmeat  for 
the  church  service,  or  coyering  tbr  an  altar,  such  aa  it 
was  then,  anil  is  oven  now,  connidered  an  ai^t  of  religion 
to  prepare  and  to  decorate.  Dnnstan  returned  to  court 
and  becatDC  the  minister  and  favorite  of  the  king,  who 
appointed  him  Abbot  of  Glostonhury  and  hia  troaanrcr. 
Edwin  BU'.'ceeded,  and.  from  his  accession,  appears  to 
have  roaiated  Che  power  of  Dunstao.  Ilia  character 
has  of  course  sutTered  in  the  hnads  of  llie  ecclceinstical 
hUcorians.  who  mpreaent  him  aa  abandoned  to  vice,  aud 
Elgira  not  as  his  wife,  but  as  his  mistress.  He  drove 
Donstan  from  hia  caart.  His  aabjecta  rebelled  against 
him,  and  raised  his  brother  Edgar  to  a  share  of  the 
throne.  Edwin  died  atiouc  the  age  of  twenty,  and 
Edgar  became  sole  king.  Danstau  was  now  at  the 
height  of  power.  He  was  made  successivelj'  Bishop  of 
Worcester,  of  London,  and  at  length  Ai^bbishop  of 
Canlerhury.  Mr.  Turner  represeots  Dunstan  as  hav- 
ing introdii'^ed  the  Benedictine  Order  into  Engl&nii : 
but  there  had  existed  no  other  order  in  Eogland  from 
the  iJQie  of  St.  Angnstin  of  Canterbnrf.  The  hut  is, 
that  he  Iniroduced  the  reform  of  the  Benedictine  rule ; 
restored  its  diseipline ;  and  used  all  the  means  which 
Ma  energy,  his  lalants,  and  hia  iniiaenee  placed  at  his 
disposal,  to  extend  and  exalt  his  already  powerful 
Order. 

In  tlie  year  960  be  made  a  journey  to  Rome,  was 
received  there  with  great  honor  by  Pope  John  XH. 
from  whose  hands  he  received  the  palliatn  as  Primate 
of  ihB  Anglo-Saxon  nation.  Ectumiug  to  England 
be  set  himself  assiduously  to  found  monasteries  and 
schools,  and  to  eitand  everywhere  the  taste  for  knowl- 
edge and  the  civilitiing  arts.  His  miracles,  hia  snper- 
natnrnl  arts,  and  hia  Tisiona,  form  a  laTRe  part  of  tho 
ecclesiastical  hiatorj  of  his  time,  lie  related  himself  a 
vision  in  which  he  beheld  tha  eaponaals  of  his  mother, 
tot  whom   bo   entertained  the  profouiidcBt  love  and 


y        >3'  '■^'^^ 


I 

I 


36  LEGESD3  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.^^ 

TBneretioi],  with  the  SaTiom  of  the  world,  accmnpa- 
tatA  with  all  tlio  rircdmstancesof  heavenlj  pomp.  taa\A 
n  eboir  of  ruigeli.  One  of  the  angola  BEkcd  Dunstan 
yrbj  he  did  nut  juia  ia  ihu  Eong  of  rejoictug  1  when  bs 
exciuod  bimaelf  on  acrounC  of  his  ignorance.  Tlie 
angol  thnn  taug:ht  bim  llie  long.  The  next  morning, 
St.  DunHtan  ne«nnl)lGd  fai«  monks  around  him,  and, 
relating  his  viaion,  (aupbt  thctn  tlie  very  hymn  which 
h«  bad  learned  in  hia  dnsm.  and  (-ommanded  them  to 
King  it.  Mr.  Turimr  calls  this  an  impioai  Btory ;  wbere- 
e>  it  IB  niereljono  fona  of  those  old  allegorical  legends 
which  are  li^mtivc  of  ^e  myetic  espouaaU  of  the  aoni, 
or  tho  Chnrvh  (ua  in  the  marria^  of  Sc.  Catliera 
and  irhiuh  appear  to  have  been  iuggeaiod  h/  the  ll 
guoge  and  imagery  of  Canticles. 

St.  Dunatan  died  at  Caaterbnry  ii 

The  few  representationa  which  re: 
Dnn«taD  muat  be  conaidenad  aa  devotional.    I  have  lU 
ai  yet  met  with  any  dramatic  or  hiatorical  pictures 
relating  lo  hin  life,  which,  however,  abounds  in  pictti- 
iBdlue  incidents.     A  drawing  fiom  his  own  hand  b 
been  most  crroTieonstj  described  as  "  St.  DaDstan  o) 
throne,  auil  a  monk  kiaaing  hia  feet":  however  a 
T^lcoDS  tlie  pride  of  Dunstan,  he  never  woold  fa 
dared  such  an  exhibition  of  presumii  

A  labintnrc  (B.  Museum  MS.),  in  which  St.  Dun- 
stan is  enthroned,  and  three  ecdesiastics  kneel  at  hia 
feet,  one  wearing  tho  black,  the  other  the  while  Benedic- 
tine habit,  Buil  the  third  the  dnsa  of  a  priest  or  canon 
r^alar,  ia  alao  verycnriona,  and  of  a  much  later  period. 

St.  Dunstan  seated,  writing,  is  engraved  in  "  StruCt'a 
]tegal  and  Ecclesiastical  Antiquitiea,"  from  an  ancient 
MS, 

In  n  series  of  pictnroa  from  the  life  of  St.  Dunatan, 
the  scene  with  Edwy  and  Elgiva  wonld  of  courae  Snd 
a  place,  and  the  aentiment  would  vary  according  to  the 
view  taken  of  his  character.  Either  he  would  appear 
OS  thevenerable  eccleaioalic,  ns  one  clothed  with  Divine, 
authority,  reproving  a  licentious  boy  unmindful  of 


be  soul, 
tbe^^^l 

I  of  1^^^ 

lictures 


1 


8T,  DUN8TAN.  137 

decencies  and  duties  of  his  high  station ;  or  as  a  fierce 
and  cmel  priest,  interfering  to  sever  the  most  holy  ties 
and  to  crash  the  most  innocent  affections.  This  last  is 
the  view  taken  by  Mr.  Taylor  in  the  drama  of  "  Edwin 
the  Fair,"  and  by  Wordsworth :  — 

"  The  enthusiast  as  a  dupe 
Shall  soar,  and  as  a  hypocrite  can  stoop, 
And  turn  the  Instruments  of  good  to  ill. 
Moulding  a  credulous  people  to  his  will,  — 

Such  DUMSTAN.'* 

In  connection  with  St.  Danstan,  we  most  not  forget 
St.  Edith  of  Wilton,  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  the 
princess-nuns  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  King  Edgar  by  Wilfrida,  a  beautiful  nun, 
whom  he  had  carried  off  forcibly  from  her  seclusion. 
For  this  sacrilege,  Edgar  was  placed  by  St.  Dunstan 
under  an  interdict  for  seven  years.  Wilfrida,  as  soon 
as  she  could  escape  from  the  power  of  the  king,  again 
took  refuge  in  her  convent,  and  there  brought  forth  a 
daughter,  Editha,  whom  she  educated  in  all  the  learn- 
ing of  the  times,  and  who  was  a  marvel  for  her  beauty 
as  well  as  her  sanctity  and  her  learning.  She  refused 
to  attend  her  father's  court,  but  expended  the  rich 
dowry  he  gave  her  in  founding  the  nunnery  at  Wilton, 
which,  since  the  Beformation,  has  been  the  seat  of  the 
earls  of  Pembroke.  This  St.  Edith  should  be  grouped 
with  St.  Dunstan  and  St.  Ethelwold,  and  St.  Denis  of 
France.  She  should  be  young  and  beautiful,  and  richly 
dressed ;  for,  even  at  a  time  when  all  the  sainted  prin- 
cesses wore  costly  garments,  she  was  remarkable  for  the 
splendor  of  her  attire.  On  this  account  being  rebuked 
by  St.  Ethelwold,  she  replied  that  the  judgment  of 
God,  which  penetrated  through  the  outward  appearance, 
was  alone  true  and  infallible.  "  For,"  said  she,  **  pride 
may  exist  under  the  garb  of  wretchedness ;  and  a  mind 
may  be  as  pure  under  these  vestments  as  under  your 
tattered  furs."  And  the  holy  man,  being  so  answered 
by  this  wise  and  royal  lady,  held  his  peace.     St.  Edith 


Aa  Sing  Edward,  the  son  of  Sdgar,  was  one  dftj 
weary  with  hunting  and  very  thirsty,  he  left  hia  attetid- 
■uita  to  TolloH  the  doge,  and  beariiig  thai  Lis  Blep-molltcr 
Elfridaand  hia  brother  Bthelrod  were  living  in  a  cenaiii 
Tillage  muned  Correagolo  (Corfti-CsMiB),  he  rode  thilli- 
or,  unatleaded,  in  quest  of  something  to  drink ;  in  hia 
innocence  aiupocting  DO  hnrm,  and  jadging  the  hearts 
of  Dthera  by  his  own.  His  treacherous  step-mother  re- 
ceived him  with  careasca,  and,  biwiing  him,  ofiercd  hira 
the  cup ;  and,  as  he  drank  it  oS',  one  of  her  eervunts 
stabbed  him  in  the  liack  with  a  dagger.  Finding  him- 
self woDndud,  he  set  epura  to  hia  horae,  and  hia  attend- 
ants coming  up  followed  him  by  the  track  of  his  blood, 
and  found  his  body  mangled  and  bleeding  in  the  forest. 
The  wicked  woman  Elirida,  and  her  aoa  Ethelred, 
ordered  tha  body  of  Edward  t»  helgnominionsly  hnried 
at  Waisham,  in  the  midat  of  public  rejoicing  and  fba- 
lility,  OS  if  they  had  buried  hia  memory  and  his  body 
togoihor;  but  Divine  pity  came  to  hia  aid,  and  ennobled 
the  innocent  Tictim  with  the  grace  of  miracles,  for  a 
celeatial  light  wna  ahcd  on  thai;  place,  and  oil  who 
labored  under  any  infirmity  were  there  healed.  And 
when  moltiCudea  jrom  all  parta  of  the  kingdom  resorted 
to  his  torah,  hia  ranrdereas  Elfrida,  being  severely  re- 
proved  by  Dunetan,  and  atrnck  with  rcmorao,  would 
alao  joumey  thither ;  but  when  she  mounted  her  horse, 
he,  who  before  hod  outstripped  tJio  winds  and  was  fiiU 
of  ardor  to  bear  hia  royal  mislrGse,  now  by  the  will  of 
God  Btood  immovable ;  neitlicr  whip  nor  apor  coold 
nfjc  him  iorwacd;  and  EUrido,  aecing  in  this  the  hand 
*  V.  Cluimiiile  d[  Wimus  or  Malsieslmry, 


8T,  EDWARD,  KING  AND  CONFESSOR.   139 

of  God,  repented  of  her  crime,  and,  alighting  from  her 
horse,  walked  humbly  and  barefooted  to  the  tomb.  His 
body  was  taken  up,  and  he  was  buried  with  great  honor 
in  the  nunnery  which  had  been  endowed  by  his  ances- 
tor, Alfred  the  Great,  at  Shaftesbury. 

St.  Edward  is  represented  as  a  beautiful  youth,  with 
Hbe  diadem  and  flowing  hair,  holding  in  one  hand  a 
short  sword  or  sceptre,  and  in  the  other  the  palm  as 
martyr ;  further  to  distinguish  him,  the  scene  of  his  as- 
sassination is  frequently  represented  in  the  background. 
This  incident,  from  its  tragical  and  picturesque  circum- 
stances, has  always  been  a  favorite  subject  with  English 
artists.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  title  of  martyr  properly 
belongs  to  St.  Edward,  for  his  death  was  not  voluntary, 
nor  from  any  religious  cause.  The  Anglo-Saxons  re- 
garded his  memory  with  devout  reverence,  but  as  a 
patron-saint  he  was  not  so  popular  as  his  namesake, 
Edward  the  Confessor. 


St.  Edwabd,  King  and  Confessor. 

▲.  D.  1066.    Jan.  5. 

The  effigies  of  St.  Edward  were  formerly  com- 
mon in  our  ecclesiastical  edifices,  and  are  still  to  be 
found.  I  shall  give  his  legendary  history  here  as  it 
is  represented  in  the  singular  bas-reliefs  in  his  chapel 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  of  which  there  are  accurate 
engravings  in  Carter's  "  Specimens  of  Ancient  Sculp- 
ture." 

1.  King  Ethelred  had  by  his  first  wife  Edmund  Iron- 
side; and  by  his  second  wife.  Queen  Emma,  he  had 
Alfred.*  The  queen  was  near  her  second  confinement, 
when  Ethelred  assembled  his  council  to  deliberate  on 
the  concerns  of  his  kingdom,  and  whom  he  should  ap- 
point to  succeed  him ;  some  inclined  towards  Edmund 
on  account  of  his  great  bodily  strength,  others  towards 

*  Camden's  Remains,  ed.  1654,  p.  484. 


,40  /.ACtJVOS  or  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

AlfVed.  St-  Dniutsn.  who  iras  present,  propheaiod  the 
iihon  life  or  bolh  lh«iic  |inn<'«i,  ihcrafora  tho  council 
ilwldcd  in  fnvor  of  ilio  untmrn  child,  ofterwards  Ed- 
ward iIh)  ConffEsor ;  and  all  the  nohlpg  then  prwent 
tuok  the  OBlh  of  realty  to  him,  daia  It  tmn  lie  $a  mere. 

In  the  has-rclicf,  Queen  Emma,  (tending  in  the  ceiL- 
ttr,  is  eurrounded  b/  prebites  and  noblvs,  who  seem  to 
do  her  homa^ 

This  «amo  Queen  Emma  afterwards  married  Canute, 
and,  during  the  rei^  of  Edward,  was  apcUEod  of  man; 
criTn<»:  ilie  wu  «aid  lo  have  hiktcd  her  sou,  to  have 
rcfiiBed  him  aid  froni  her  ireafiuroB,  "ta  base  larod 
Canute  mom  when  living  than  her  first  husband,  and 
more  commended  hira  when  dead,"  —  on  unpardonable 
sin  in  the  ejes  of  the  Saxons,  Though  excusable,  con- 
aidwing  thij  contrasted  charnctora  of  the  cmol,  slothful 
Ethelred,  and  the  warlike  Gery-spirited  Dane.  She 
clenrod  herself  by  walking  blindfold  and  iinlmrt  ovfr 

eleven  red-hot  plougheliarcs;  eversioce  a  faTarite  legend 
with  tlie  English. 

S.  The  second  compnrtraeut  represents  the  birth  uf 
King  Edward  the  CoDfessor,  which  took  place  at  Islip 
in  Oxfordshire,  "  In  the  chapel,  not  many  years  since, 
there  stood  the  very  foot  wherein  that  religious  prince 
St.  Edward  the  Confessor  tBceiyed  the  sacranicnt  of 
baptism,  which  font  being  rescued  from  profane  uses, 
lo  which  it  had  been  condemned  during  ihe  Common- 
wealth, was  placed  by  Sir  Heory  Brown  on  a  pedestal, 
and  adorned  with  a  poem  rather  pious  than  learned." 

3,  In  the  third  compartment  we  have  the  coronation 
of  the  soiot,  on  Easler^ay  1043. 

4.  A  large  sum  of  money  having  been  collected  for 
the  tribute  called  Danegflt,  it  was  conveyed  lo  the  pal- 
Bi»,  and  the  king  was  ealled  to  see  it ;  at  the  sight 
thereof  be  started  back,  eKclaiming,  that  he  beheld  a 
demon  dancing  upon  the  money,  and  rejoicing:  there- 
upon be  commanded  that  the  gold  sbonld  be  restored 
to  ite  owners,  and  rcleflseil  bis  suiijccls  from  that  griev- 
ous tribute.      lu  ihe  liiia-rclief  the  money  is  represonied 


0 


ST.  EDWARD,  KING  AND   CONFESSOR,  141 

iQ  casks,  and  upon  these  casks  there  seems  to  have 
been  a  figure  of  a  demon,  which  has  been  broken  away. 

5.  Hugolin,  the  king's  chamberlain,  one  day  took 
some  money  out  of  a  coffer  in  the  king's  bed-chamber, 
leaving  it  open,  the  king  being  then  on  his  couch.  A 
young  man  who  waited  on  the  king,  believing  him  to 
be  asleep,  put  his  hand  into  the  coffer,  took  out  a  hand- 
ful of  gold,  went  away  and  hid  it ;  he  then  returned  a 
second  time,  took  another  handful ;  and  again  a  third 
time,  on  which  the  king  cried  out,  "  Nay !  thou  art  too 
covetous !  take  what  thou  hast,  and  be  content ;  for  if 
Hugolin  come,  he  will  not  leave  thee  one  penny " : 
whereupon  the  young  man  ran  out  of  the  room  and 
escaped.  When  Hugolin  returned,  he  began  to  lament 
himself  because  of  the  robbery.  "Hold  thy  peace," 
replied  the  king ;  "  perhaps  he  who  hath  taken  it  hath 
more  need  of  it  than  we  have :  what  is  left  is  sufficient 
for  us." 

6.  King  Edward  partaking  of  the  eucharist  before 
the  altar  at  Westminster,  attended  by  Leofric,  earl  of 
Chester  (the  husband  of  Grodiva),  had  a  vision  of  the 
Saviour  standing  in  person  on  the  altar. 

7.  The  king  of  the  Danes  had  assembled  an  army 
for  the  purpose  of  invading  England,  and,  on  going  on 
board  his  fleet,  fell  over  into  the  sea  and  was  drowned ; 
which  circumstance  was  miraculously  mode  known  to 
King  Edward  in  a  vision.  In  the  bas-relief  the  Danish 
king  is  floundering  in  the  sea. 

8.  The  king,  the  queen,  and  Earl  Grodwin,  the 
queen's  father,  are  seated  at  table.  In  front  is  the 
contest  between  Harold  and  Tosti,  two  boys,  the  sons 
of  Godwin  :  the  king,  looking  on,  foretold  the  destruc- 
tion of  both,  through  their  mutual  enmity. 

9.  On  Easter-day,  as  the  king  was  seated  at  table, 
ne  was  observed  to  smile,  and  then  to  look  particularly 
grave.  Afber  dinner,  being  asked  by  Earl  Harold  and 
the  Abbot  of  Westminster  the  reason  of  his  smiling,  he 
told  them  that  at  that  moment  he  had  had  a  vision  of 
the  Seven  Sleepers  of  Ephesus,  and  that  while  he  looked 


L 


141  LEGESDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS^ 

they  torafd  Fram  the  right  mde,  on  which  tLe;  had 
resMd  for  two  hundred  jeara,  sad  were  10  lie  sevenij- 
fnur  on  ibcir  lel^  ijde,  daring  which  time  Che  nation 
would  bo  visiwd  bf  man^  sorrows;  which  prophecy 
Mme  to  pass  when  the  NormnoB  invwled  Engiaud. 

10  aod  12  represent  the  legend  of  St.  John  llie 
Evnngcliet,  which  hoi  been  idready  related.  (Sncred 
nnd  Le^Dd.  Art.) 

1 1  represeaW  the  tinjf'B  roiracQlDOB  power  or  heal- 
ing, a  ^ft  whifli  waa  jioputArly  believed  to  Imvc  de- 
scended to  all  his  onoiQlod  saccesnora  down  to  [lie  line 
of  Queen  Anne. 

13.  TliB  pilgrimB  deliver  to  the  king  the  ling  which 
they  had  received  firom  St.  John  the  GvongeUat. 

14  reprpBents  the  dedication  of  the  Chorch  of  St. 
Peter  at  Westminster.     (Dec.  SB,  1085.) 

A  short  time  afterwarda,  in  the  jear  1066,  on  the  evo 
of  the  Epiphany,  St.  Edward  the  ConfesEOr  died,  "Btld 
wail  bnried  in  the  edd  church,  which  he  first,  in  Eng- 
land, had  erected  ofier  that  kind  of  style  wliich,  now, 
all  attempt  to  rival  at  a  great  expense." 

Id  the  rei);n  of  Henry  III.  the  chnrch  was  rebnilt, 
and  a  splendid  chapel  and  shrine  erected  to  the  memoty 
of  the  (bonder.  The  accliiteet  of  the  shrine  is  snid  Co 
have  been  Pietro  Cavalini,  on  Ilaliao  painter,  some  of 
whose  works  remain  in  the  church  of  Assisi ;  hut  of 
the  paintings  which  he  is  snpposed  to  have  executed  on 
the  walls  of  this  chapel,  no  trace  remojos. 

The  single  devotional  fignrea  of  St.  Edward  iha 
Confessor  represent  him  in  the  Itingly  robes,  the  crovm 
on  his  head,  in  one  hand  the  sceptre  sanoouuled  with 
a  dove  (as  in  the  eSigy  on  his  seal),  in  the  other  Ibe 
ri  tig  of  St.  John.  He  has  a  long  beard,  a  fair  com- 
plexion, and  a  niild  serene  roanlenance.  The  ring  is 
his  proper  attribute  :  in  the  l)eautifu]  Coronation  of  the 
Virgin  in  the  eullection  of  Prince  WallcratGiQ  (Kensing- 
Pal.),  the  figure  of  St.  Edward  the  Confessor  ap- 
pears in  (he  lower  part  of  the  picture  holding  the  ring, 
and  a  tetter  which  is  supposed  to  contain  the  incsssge 


4 


M 


8T,  THOMAS  A  BECKET. 


«43 


of  St.  John :  this  is  quite  un-English  in  character  and 
conception,  and  the  introduction  of  our  Saxon  king 
into  foreign  devotional  subjects  very  unusual. 


St.  Thomas  op  Canterbubt. 

8t.  Thomaa  4  Becket.  Lat.  Sanctus  Thomas  Episc.  Ganhtarien- 
sis  et  Martyr.  Ital.  San  Tommaso  CaDtaariense.  Fr.  Saint 
Thonuis  de  Gantorberi.    Dec.  29, 1170. 

The  story  of  Becket  in  connection  with  the  annals 
of  England  is  to  be  found  in  every  English  History : 
the  manner  in  which  it  is  related,  the  color  given  to  his 
actions  and  character,  vary  considerably  in  all ;  the  view 
to  be  taken  of  both  had  become  a  question,  not  of  jus- 
tice and  truth,  but  of  religious  party.  Lord  Campbell 
in  his  recent,  and  admirably  written  life  of  Becket,  as 
chancellor  and  minister  of  Henry  II.,  tells  us  that  his 
vituperators  are  to  be  found  among  bigoted  Protestants, 
and  his  unqualified  eulogists  among  intolerant  Catho- 
lics. After  stating,  with  the  perspicuity  of  a  judge  in 
equity,  their  respective  arguments  and  opinions,  he 
sums  up  in  favor  of  the  eulogists,  and  decides  that,  set- 
ting aside  exaggeration,  miracle,  and  religious  preju- 
dice, the  most  merciful  view  of  the  character  of  Becket 
is  also  the  most  just.  And  is  it  not  pleasant,  where  the 
imagination  has  been  so  excited  by  the  strange  vicissi- 
tudes and  picturesque  scenes  of  his  vvious  life,  the  judg- 
ment so  dazzled  by  his  brilliant  and  generous  qualities, 
the  sympathies  so  touched  by  the  tragic  circumstaifces 
of  his  death,  to  have  our  scruples  set  at  rest,  and  to  be 
allowed  to  admire  and  to  venerate  with  a  good  con- 
science ;  and  this  too  on  the  authority  of  one  accustomed 
to  balance  evidence,  and  not  swerved  by  any  bias  to 
extreme  religious  opinions  ?  But  it  is  not  as  states- 
man, chancellor,  or  prelate  that  Becket  takes  his  place 
in  sacred  art.  It  is  in  his  character  of  canonized  «aint 
and  martyr  that  I  have  to  speak  of  him  here.     He  wa» 


1  LEGEXDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDi 


murdered  oc  manyrcd  bcunsc  he  pcttimxcirmfily  de- 
funded  the  spiritaal  i£ninsl  the  royal  aitlliorjl)- ;  and  wu 
must  remCRiber  lliat,  in  the  cletetith  ccuCur;,  the  caneo 
□f  the  Chun'h  was  in  fact  the  etMne  of  tho  weak  against 
the  nroiig,  the  chubs  of  civilizalion  and  of  tho  people 
■llfaiaBt  bnrbsrism  and  tTrann;;  nod  that  \<y  his  con- 
lomporaricfl  lie  wut  regarded  as  the  champion  of  the 
oppreHBed  Saxon  race  Bgainet  llie  Nonnui  nobililv. 

I  muHt  uot  alhiw  myself  to  dwell  upon  the  si'eiieE  of 
liis  mcuIbt  career.  The  whole  of  hU  laiied  lifa  is  rich 
in  malerials  for  the  hisloriral  painter,  offering  all  tliat 
coold  posBiblj'  be  desired,  in  pomp,  \n  drrnmsiaDce,  in 
aceuerv,  in  cosCame,  and  in  cliaracter.  What  a  series 
it  woald  make  of  beandful  gnbjecla,  beginiiing  witli  the 
l^eod  of  big  mother,  tho  dauRhler  of  the  emir  of  Pales- 
tine, wlio,  when  his  father  Gilbert  a  Beeket  was  token 
prisoner  in  tho  cnusde,  foil  in  love  with  him,  delivered 
him  from  captivity,  and  afterwards  tbllowed  him  lo 
Gnglaod,  knowing  no  words  of  anj  Western  longne 
except  Gilbert  and  London,  with  the  aid  of  which  she 
Ibmid  him  in  Cheapside;  then  her  baptism,  her  mar> 
risge,  the  binli  of  ijio  facnre  aaint;  bis  introdaction  to 
the  king  ;  hia  mission  to  Rome ;  his  splendid  embassf 
to  Paris  i  his  einglo-banded  combat  with  Englaran  de 
Trie,  the  French  knight ;  the  king  of  England,  and  the 
king  of  France,  at  his  bedside  when  he  was  sick  at 
Hoaen  ;  his  consecration  as  archbishop ;  his  ssBomption 
of  the  Benedictine  habit ;  his  midnight  penances,  whan 
ho  walked  alone  in  the  cloisters  bewailing  his  past  sins ; 
his  washing  tho  feet  of  the  pilgrims  and  beggars;  his 
angT7  coaterence  witli  the  king ;  their  reconciliation  at 
Friatville;  his  progress  Ihrongh  tho  city  of  London, 
when  the  grateful  and  enthusiaslic  people  Sung  them- 
■elvos  in  hie  path  and  kissed  ibe  hem  of  bis  garment; 
his  iniETview  with  tho  nssassins;  his  murdtsr  on  tho 
steps  of  the  allar  ;  and,  finally,  the  proud  king  kneeling 
at  midnight  on  the  same  spot,  sobmitting  lo  be  Bconiged 
in  penance  for  hie  crime :  —  I  know  not  that  any  one 
of  these    Bne    sabjocls    lias    been   adequately   treated. 


8T.  THOMAS  1  BECKET,  145 

There  was,  in  a  recent  exhibition,  a  little  picture 
(Armitage)  of  the  arriyal  of  the  emir's  daughter  at  her 
lover's  door  in  Cheapside,  where  the  dark-eyed,  dark- 
haired,  cowering  maiden  is  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
wondering  fair-haired  Londoners,  which  was  excellently 
drawn  and  conceived,  only  a  little  too  pale  in  the  color- 
ing :  and  the  murder  has  often  been  painted,  but  never 
worthily. 

The  sole  claim  of  Becket  to  a  place  in  sacred  art 
lies  in  his  martyrdom,  and  the  causes  which  immediate- 
ly led  to  it ;  and  to  these,  therefore,  I  shall  confine  my- 
self here. 

Thomas  k  Becket,  on  being  promoted  to  the  see  of 
Canterbury,  resigned  the  chancellorship ;  and  throwing 
aside  the  gay  and  somewhat  dissipated  manners  which 
had  made  him  a  favorite  with  his  sovereign,  he  became 
at  once  an  altered  man. 

«  The  universal  expectation  was,  that  Becket  would 
now  play  the  part  so  successfully  performed  by  Cardinal 
Wolsey  in  a  succeeding  age ;  that,  chancellor  and  arch- 
bishop, he  would  continue  the  minister  and  personal 
friend  of  the  king;  that  he  would  study  to  support  and 
extend  all  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown,  which  he  him- 
self was  to  exercise ;  and  that,  in  the  palaces  of  which 
he  was  now  master,  he  would  live  with  increased  mag- 
nificence and  luxury.  When  we  judge  of  his  character, 
we  must  ever  bear  in  mind  that  all  this  was  easily  with- 
in his  reach ;  and  that  if  he  had  been  actuated  by  love 
of  pleasure  or  mere  vulgar  ambition,  such  would  have 
been  his  career."  *  But  very  different  was  the  path 
which  he  resolved  to  pursue. 

From  this  time,  his  history  presents  us  with  one  long 
scene  of  contention  between  a  haughty,  resolute,  and 
accomplished  prince,  and  a  churchman  determined  to 
maintain  at  once  the  privileges  of  the  Cliurch  and  his 
own  rank  of  spiritual  father  to  the  king  and  people  of 
England.     It  was  a  contest  for  power  in  which  the  in- 

*  o.  Ixnrd  Campbell's  Lives  of  the  Chancellore. 
10 


14$  LEGENDS  OF  TBF.  MOSASTIC  ORDERS. 

trepid  archbishop  wu  brougbl  iaio  colluion,  not  norely 
with  the  king,  hat  with  mtny  of  Hie  oobility,  and  some 
of  tbe  Normiui  |irvlMc8  whom  be  had  cscomiDiuiicsted 
for  conlumacj.  Renrj,  driven  dcaperalc  at  last  bj  ibe 
iDdomitabk'  icnl  and  coumgo  of  his  advvnuuy,  vbm 
heard  to  txcliuni,  "  Of  the  cowiirda  thai  eat  my  broil, 
is  there  Done  that  will  rid  me  of  this  opBlart  priest  ? " 

Tbe  words,  uttered  id  a  moment  of  exuperatioii, 
had  Karcel;  left  bU  lipB  when  ibef  wars  acted  on. 
Four  of  liis  Nomukn  attendants,  Reginald  HuurBe, 
Witliam  Trocj,  Hogh  de  HoTYille,  and  Richard  BHlo, 
bound  themaelvcB  b;  oath  to  put  the  rcfrafUny  prieu 
to  death.  ThcT  came  over  to  Cantertmry.  and,  ibotijih 
they  at  first  entered  the  presenra  of  Beclun  nnarmed, 
he  teems  to  have  anlicipBted  their  btal  pnrpoee.  "  In 
v»n,"  laid  he,  '-  jon  menace  me ;  if  all  the  oworda  in 
England  were  braodiahed  orer  my  head,  their  iernn« 
coidd  not  move  me.  Foot  to  foot  jou  would  find  me 
figbting  Ibe  bnttlo  of  tbe  Lord  I "  They  nuhed  in  a 
fury  lioiii  bis  iiroeence,  and  called  their  Ibllowera  to 
orma.  Tbe  rent  of  tbe  star;  I  give  in  the  words  of 
Lord  Campbell:  — 

"  Id  this  moment  of  etupcnee,  ibe  voices  of  tho 
monks  singing  vespers  in  the  adjoining  choir  were 
heard  ;  and  it  being  soggteted  ibat  the  church  oGcrcd 
tbe  best  cbancc  of  safety,  Beckct  agreed  to  join  the 
worshippers  there,  thinking  that  al  all  events  if  he  was 
murdered  before  tbe  altar,  bis  death  would  he  more 
gtorioos,  and  his  memory  woald  be  held  in  grealer 
ronemtion  hy  alter-ages.  He  then  ordered  tbe  crow 
of  CantBThnry  to  be  carried  belbrc  him,  and  slowly  ftil- 
lowod  his  frienils  throngb  tbe  cltMstcr.  He  entered  the 
church  by  the  north  transept,  and  bearing  the  gales  . 
barred  beliiud  him,  be  ordered  them  to  be  reopened, 
I'-ji'^i  tliM  the  lemplu  of  God  was  not  to  be  fortified 
like  a  eastle.  He  was  aiwending  tbe  steps  of  the  ultoir, 
when  the  four  knigbls,  witb  twelve  companions,  all  ia 
complete  armor,  burst  into  Ibe  diurcb,  llieir  lea '  ~ 
ing  out,  '  Hither  to  mo,  ye  servants  of  tbe  kiuj 


r  leadecul^^ 

kiugn,^H 


8T,  THOMAS  A  BECKET.  147 

it  was  now  dnsk,  the  archbishop  might  have  retreated 
and  concealed  himself,  for  a  time  at  least,  among  the 
crypts  and  secret  passages  of  the  bnildiog,  with  which 
he  was  well  acquainted ;  bat,  undismayed,  he  tamed  to 
meet  the  assassins,  followed  by  his  cross-bearer,  the 
only  one  of  his  attendants  who  had  not  fled.  A  voice 
was  heard,  '  Where  is  the  traitor  ?  '  Silence  for  a  mo- 
ment prevailed ;  but  when  Fitzurse  demanded,  '  Where 
is  the  archbishop  ? '  he  replied,  <  Here  I  am ;  the  arch- 
bishop, but  no  traitor !  Reginald,  I  have  granted  thee 
many  &vors ;  what  is  thy  object  now  ?  If  you  seek  my 
life,  let  that  suffice ;  and  I  command  you,  in  the  name 
of  Grod,  not  to  touch  one  of  my  people.'  Being  again 
told  that  he  must  instantly  absolve  the  prelates  whom 
he  had  excommunicated,  the  archbishop  of  York  and 
the  bishop  of  Salisbury,  he  answered,  <  Till  they  make 
satisfaction  I  will  not  absolve  them.'  <  Then  die,'  said 
Tracy.  The  blow  aimed  at  his  head  only  slightly 
wounded  him,  as  it  was  warded  off  by  the  faithful  cross- 
bearer,  whose  arm  was  broken  by  its  force.  The  arch- 
Inshop,  feeling  the  blood  trickle  down  his  face,  joined 
his  hiands  and  bowed  his  head,  saying,  <In  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  for  the  defence  of  his  Church,  I  am  ready 
to  die/  To  mitigate  the  sacrilege,  they  wished  to  re- 
move him  from  the  church  before  they  despatched  him ; 
but  he  declared  he  should  there  meet  his  fate,  and,  re- 
taining the  same  posture,  desired  them  to  execute  their 
intentions  or  their  orders,  and,  uttering  his  last  words, 
he  said,  *  I  humbly  commend  my  spirit  to  Grod,  who 
gave  it.'  He  had  hardly  finished  this  prayer,  when  a 
second  stroke  quickly  threw  him  on  his  knees,  and  a 
third  laid  him  prostrate  on  the  floor  at  the  foot  of  the 
altar.  There  he  received  many  blows  from  each  of 
the  conspirators,  and  his  brains  were  strewed  upon  the 
pavement. 

"Thus  perished,  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age, 
the  man  who,  of  all  the  English  chancellors  since  the 
foundation  of  the  monarchy,  was  of  the  loftiest  ambi- 
tion, of  the  greatest  firmness  of  purpose,  and  the  most 


14S  L£GEyt}S  Of  THE  MOXASTIC  ORDEBl 

dfaUeof  nuUuns  enrj  Httifice  to  &  sense  of  duty,  or 
b  tba  anjinutkiii  of  rmovn."  (I  think,  however, 
Lofd  OnB|>l>*U  ttwaM  not  bmye  plnoed  tbo  tno  tnotires 
■KHtMr  tbni,  u  llu)D((b  he  had  dremed  tliem  equBl.) 
■■  1  <ii>m."  bo  kddi,  ■' doubt  Bcckci'i  sinreiity,  and 
•Ibom  >II  will  a^r™  tlul  be  believed  hiniBClf  to  be  sin- 
on  " ;  BBd  I  will  ixld,  in  conrlnsion,  dial,  periahing  ae 
b«  did.  ralsmwili',  recolntclj,  and  in  enppon  of  what 
ha  MBiMBwl  ■*  the  Hi^htMKU  came,  it  ia  not,  perbaps, 
wUnW  WCiei  ihM  lie  bu  been  Mjled  □  mart^,  even 
ahoR  h>«oald  aot  be  lUoiiFd  the  di^tr  of  a  saint. 

Ha  iBMll*  buneA  hint  in  the  crvpt  at  Conterbur; ;  and 
ll  b  fdaBd,  Aal  a*  they  canied  him  to  bis  restin^placo, 
ckaKnv  Willi  mmbling  and  lear  the  tiiqiiicin  for  the 
iltd,  iha  rakea  of  the  angels  were  Iward  liuging  a  loud 
ml  hamooiDBa  Latabiliir  j'aahis,  the  begianing  of  the 
Swrrice  of  Ae  Mamn ;  and  the  monki  stopped  in  (heir 
tkonnilnl  <baDl,  being  aniazod  ;  then,  lu  impired,  they 
took.  Vf  te  M^elic  ttrun,  and  tbiu,  the  bearenly  and 
A»  eanbly  mins  mioelinK  together  in  ^e  bymQ  of 
pwM  aad  trianqih,  they  bote  the  lioly  marljr  to  his 


Onoaidering  the  extraordinary  venecatiaa  care  paid 
ID  St.  Tboona  ii  Beeket  thiQiijjfaont  all  Christendom, 
tat  mon  eapeeially  in  EnglaiMl,  it  aoems  etnmge  thst 
w  tnaT  oaw  seek  thnmgh  the  length  and  breadth  of 
(Mv  land,  aod  find  not  a  single  memorial  left  of  him. 

The  Chnrrh  whii-li  lie  had  defended  ranonized  liim, 
aod  held  up  hia  name  lo  worship  :  within  two  year*  af- 
ter hid  death,  his  relics  wen  laid  in  a  Tich  shrine,  UiO 
mne  of  his  manyrdom  became  a  place  of  pilgrimage 
ID  all  saDoiis,  and  the  marble  pavemeat  of  L'Anteriiur; 
Cathedial  may  be  seen  at  this  day  woin  by  the  knees 
«f  his  wdishii^ers.'    But  the  power  which  he  had  dn- 


B^  Blfh^  off  Mogs  Kill,  u 


8T,  THOMAS  A  BECKET.  149 

fied,  the  kingly  power,  uncanonized  him,  desecrated  his 
shrine,  burned  his  relics,  and  flang  his  ashes  into  the 
Thames.  By  an  act  in  council  of  Henry  VIII.,  it  was 
solemnly  decreed  "  that  Thomas  k  Becket  was  no  saint, 
but  a  rebel  and  a  traitor ;  that  he  should  no  longer  be 
called  or  esteemed  a  saint ;  that  all  images  and  pictures 
of  him  should  be  destroyed,  all  festivals  held  in  his  hon- 
or should  be  abolished,  and  his  name  and  remembrance 
erased  from  all  documents,  under  pain  of  royal  indigna- 
tion and  imprisonment  during  his  Grace's  pleasure." 
This  decree  was  so  effective  in  England,  that  the  effi- 
gies of  this  once  beloved  and  popular  saint  vanished  at 
once  from  every  house  and  oratory.  I  have  never  met, 
nor  could  ever  hear  of,  any  representation  of  St.  Thom- 
as k  Becket  remaining  in  our  ecclesiastical  edifices :  * 
and  I  have  seen  missals  and  breviaries,  in  which  his 
portrait  had  been  more  or  less  carefully  smeared  over 
and  obliterated.  But  with  regard  to  the  representations 
of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  in  Roman  Catholic  coun- 
tries, where  alone  they  are  now  to  be  found,  there  are 
some  particulars  to  be  noted  which  appear  to  me  curi- 
ous and  interesting. 

St.  Thomas  was  martyred  in  1170;  and  canonized  by 
Pope  Alexander  III.  in  the  year  1172.  In  that  year, 
William  the  Grood,  king  of  Sicily,  began  to  build  the 
magnificent  church  of  Monreale,  near  Palermo,  the 
interior  of  which  is  encrusted  with  rich  mosaics ;  and 
among  the  figures  of  saints  and  worthies  we  find  St. 
Thomas  of  Canterbury,  standing  colossal  in  his  episco- 
pal robes,  with  no  attribute,  but  his  name  inscribed. 
It  is  the  work  of  Byzantine  artists,  and  perhaps  the 

And  many  qaestionB  made,  both  of  his  life  and  death : 
If  he  were  truly  just,  he  hath  his  right,  —  if  no, 
Those  times  were  much  to  blame  that  have  him  reckoned  so.*' 

Drayton's  Polyolbion.    Song  24. 

*  I  am  informed  by  an  obliging  correspondent,  that  in  the  very 
ancient  church  of  the  village  of  Horton,  in  Bibblesdale,  there  ex- 
ists a  head  of  St.  Thomas  k  Becket,  still  to  be  seen  la  the  east  win- 
Aow  over  the  altar. 


Ijo  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

eMiiest  exisUng  effigjof  Tbomaak  Bedcel  in  hia  saLntlj 
character.  In  the  year  U78,  ihe  great  abWy  of  Aber- 
brothock  was  rounded  in  liis  hooor,  bj  William  t)ie 
Lion,  king  of  Scott.  A  Ebw  yeara  later,  nlniu  )200, 
Innocent  III,,  being  pope,  presented  lo  the  little  chnrcli 
of  Agnani,  the  place  of  bis  birth,  a  rope  and  mitre 
rirhlf  embroidjcced.  On  the  cope  we  find,  worked 
with  most  delicate  sldU,  and  evidently  &oid  eKcelleut 
original  drawings,  thinj^ix  sccnea  trom  sacred  story; 
and  among  these  is  the  iDartyrdom  of  Bevfcct:  on  Uie 
tnitro  he  is  Hgoin  reprcionted.  I  saw  csraful  trafings 
of  these  subjects  made  apon  the  embroidered  originals ; 
the  colors,  I  was  tuld  by  the  artist,  being  but  tittle 
&ded.  This  cope  is  not  qnitc  co  anricnt  ei  tho  brnoas 
Dolmatica  in  the  VatiCBn,  but  is  almost  as  beantifiil, 
and  eTen  more  elaborate. 

These  examples  show  how  early  and  how  eSectually 
the  Church  had  exalted  the  saintly  fame  of  Thomas  & 
Becket.  In  the  former  instance,  the  appearance  of  onr 
English  Baint  in  a  Sicilian  diurL'h,  his  figure  designed 
and  executed  bj  Greek  arttsts,  seoms  incomprebensible 
till  explained  by  the  recollection,  that  Willisjn  the 
Good  married  the  Princess  JoBtma  of  England,  daagh- 
ter  of  Henry  U.  She  arrived  in  Sicily  in  the  year 
1177,  and  William  probably  thought  to  honor  his  bride, 
and  certainly  intended  no  dishonor  to  his  father-in-law, 
by  placing  within  the  glorioas  templu  he  was  tlicu  build- 
ing the  worshipped  imago  of  the  man  whom  that  la- 
ther-in-biw  had  assasainatod.     AitogetLcr,  rhc  circum- 


[Bof  tl 


In  the  devotional  figures,  St.  Thomas  ta  represented 
wealing  the  chafinbie  over  the  black  Benedictine  habit, 
and  canyiug  the  crosier  atid  Gospels  in  his  hand. 
When  ropreaented  as  martyr,  he  is  without  the  mitre, 
and  the  blood  trickles  from  a  wound  in  his  head,  c 
has  a  battle-axe  or  sword  struck  into  his  head, 
in  ereiy  iustanee  I  can  remember,  beardless.     '\ 


ST,  THOMAS  A  BEGKET.  151 

must  be  careful  to  distinguish  these  maiiyr-effi- 
gies  of  St.  Thomas  Archbishop  and  Martyr,  from  those 
of  St.  Peter  Martyr,  the  Dominican  Friar. 

Though  I  suppose  no  authentic  effigy  of  him  now 
exists,  yet  those  which  we  possess  seem  to  have  been 
done  from  some  original  portrait  existing  in  his  time. 

There  is  a  beautifiil  and  very  rare  little  print  by 
Vorstermann,  executed  in  England,  and,  from  the  pecu- 
liar character,  I  suppose  from  some  original  document 
not  named. 

In  his  church  at  Verona,  dedicated  to  him  in  1316, 
18  placed  the  scene  of  his  martyrdom.  I  found  him 
standing  by  the  throned  Virgin  in  a  picture  by  Girol- 
amo  da  Treviso ;  and  again  in  a  picture  by  Girolamo 
da  Santa  Croce,  where  he  is  seated  on  a  throne,  and 
surrounded  by  a  company  of  saints :  a  most  beautiful 
picture,  and  a  capital  work  of  the  master.  A  small 
picture  in  distemper  on  panel,  of  the  martyrdom  of  St 
Thomas,  used  to  hang  over  the  tomb  of  King  Henry 
IV.  at  Canterbury,  and  is  engraved  in  Carter's  "  Speci- 
mens." 

I  remember  to  have  seen  a  very  old  representation 
of  the  murder  of  St.  Thomas  k  Becket,  in  which  the 
&ithful  cross-bearer  is  standing  by  the  idtar,  with  out- 
stretched arm,  as  if  defending  his  lord ;  and  another 
in  which  King  Henry,  kneeling  before  the  tomb  of 
Becket,  and  his  shoulders  bared,  is  scourged  by  four 
Benedictine  monks. 

In  a  beautiful  Psalter  which  belonged  to  Queen  Mary, 
elaborately  illuminated  by  French  artists,  there  is  a  com- 
plete series  of  groups  from  the  life  of  Thomas  h.  Becket, 
beginning  with  the  baptism  of  his  Eastern  mother,  and 
ending  with  the  penance  of  King  Henry.* 

In  the  ancient  representations  of  his  martyrdom,  the 
assassins  are  handed  down  to  the  execration  of  the  pious, 
by  having  their  names  written  underneatli,  or  they  are 
distinguished  by  their  armorial  bearings.  Morville 
bears  the  Fretty  Jleur8-de4i8 ;   Tracy,  or^  two  bars  or 

*  Eng.  in  Strutt's  Regal  and  Eccl.  Antlq.,  Bupp. 


1  LIGK.VDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORLERSM 

b/adlflt  ffvlet ,-  Brilo,  tine  heart'  hradt  miadfd 
nrae,  Ihree  bean  putianl,  in  nltuEioD  to  hia  nai 
have  Been  lUiio  &  French  print  of  tho  mBrtvrdoiii  of  St. 
Thomas,  in  which  the  tierra  Norman  o&uuuiu 
ind  ia  tiie  fail  voun  cosnime  of  Looia  XV.* 


'With  St.  Thomas  &  Becket  I  conclnde  this  sketch  oT 
the  must  popDlar  and  diatiagDiahcd  of  onr  Anglo-Saxon 
flwnu  1  Ihoee  who,  as  Babjeds  of  art,  have  nipreaoDted. 
or  roieht  properly  represent,  in  e.  characteristic  manner, 
the  eartj  religions  tendencies  of  our  nation.  The  Con- 
qnesl  introdaced  us  to  a  new  colcaiial  hierarchy.  First 
came  St.  Michael,  the  favorite  patron  of  William  of 
Nonnaady,  who  landed  at  Hastings  on  the  day  of  the 
feast  of  the  archangel.  Matilda  of  Scotland,  the  wife 
Henry  L,  popularized  St.  Giles.  Tho  French  princes 
and  cobles  connected  with  our  Komtnn  kings,  brought 
over  their  French  patrons,  St.  Martin,  St.  Maur,  St. 
Maurice,  St.  lladcgonde,  and  tLat  "  Sainlo  Demoiselle 
F^choreaw,"  Maiy  Mi^idalenc.  The  Crusaders  iotro- 
duced  A  long  array  of  poetical  Greek  patrons,  —  St. 
George,  St.  Catherine,  St.  Nicholas,  St.  Barbara,  &c., 
—  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken  at  length.  The 
French  and  the  Eastern  sainls  were  the  patrons  of  the 
dominant  race,  and  represented  the  religious  feelings  of 
the  aristocracy  and  the  chividry  of  the  conotry.  Henry 
m.,  to  conciliate  iho  Saxons,  gave  to  hia  eldest  soo  a 
name  dear  and  venerable  to  his  EogUah  snhjecta,  and 
placed  him  nnder  the  protection  of  St.  Edward  the  Con- 
t^or.      When  Edward  m.  gave  the  password  at  the 

•  Theie  la  at  Chatirorlh  a  ptcture  by  Johas  van  E/A,  ily Led 


If  St.  I 

4 


biuy,'*  aa  imporlan 


ST.  THOMAS  A  BECKET,  153 

siege  of  Calais,  it  was,  «Ha,  St.  Edward!  Ha»  St. 
George ! "  and  the  Normans  —  with  more,  perhaps,  of 
policy  than  piety  —  associated  with  their  hereditary  pa- 
trons the  martyr  saints  of  the  Anglo-Saxons ;  bat  this 
was  seldom.  The  English  meanwhile  clung  to  their 
own  natiye  saints  ,*  among  the  people,  the  Edwards  and 
Edmunds  and  Oswalds,  the  Austins  and  Audrys  and 
Cnthberts,  gave  way  yery  slowly  to  a  companionship 
with  the  outlandish  worthies  of  a  new  dynasty :  and  it 
is  amusing  to  find,  that  in  adopting  these,  the  popular 
legends,  in  a  truly  national  spirit,  claimed  them  as  their 
own.  According  to  the  local  traditions,  St.  George's 
father  and  mother  lived  in  Warwickshire,  and  St.  Ur- 
sula assembled  her  virgins  at  Coventry. 

The  religious  Orders  which  sprang  up  after  the  elev- 
enth century  brought  over  to  us  of  course  their  own  es- 
pecial saints  and  patriarchs.  I  confess  I  find  no  proof 
that  these  ever  became  very  popular  in  England,  as 
subjects  of  religious  art ;  or  that  their  effigies,  even  be- 
fore the  Reformation,  prevailed  in  our  ecclesiastical  edi- 
fices to  any  great  degree.  It  does  not  appear  that  St. 
Bernard,  St.  Francis,  St.  Dominick,  ever  superseded 
St.  Cuthbert,  St.  Dnnstan,  and  St.  Thomas  k  Becket. 

But  it  was  the  reverse  abroad,  and  we  turn  once 
more  to  the  splendors  of  Foreign  art. 


THE  REFORMED   BENEDICTIN] 


[3^^S[0R  abottc  thn»  conturiei  sfter  the  dealh  til 
IMBfiMJ  St.  Benedict  we  find  his  Order  extCDdiag 
jWRQul  in  ever;  direction  tbrongbont  Christendom ; 
(BBftWHtj  BO  IhAt  when  ChBrlcmagne  inqnirod  wliether 
any  other  religious  ordoc  exiated  in  fain  domintomi,  be 
was  infbrmed  tliM  Irom  east  to  west,  euuI  lioia  north 
to  Booth,  oiJy  Benedictines  were  to  be  fonnd  throngh- 
oat  the  len;^  and  breadth  of  his  empire.  M.  Giiizoc, 
ill  bis  view  of  tlie  reign  of  Charlemagne,  givoB  ob  a 
"  tablsBU  "  of  llie  celebrated  meii  who  were  in  bis  ser- 
Tice  as  niiiiiBters,  connsellore,  secretaries :  they  were 
all  ecclcainatica  of  the  Benedictine  Order ;  and  we  have 
seen  that,  in  England,  almost  all  the  leading  men  who 
figared  aa  Htalesmen.  as  scholars,  ajid  as  l^al  fnoction- 
aries  from  the  seventh  to  the  twelfth  renCnry,  belonged 
to  the  SBjnc  religious  ismmunity. 

Bat  it  appears  tlmt  from  the  middle  of  the  ninth  to 
the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  the  iatellectuat 
superiority  of  the  Benedictines,  and  their  moial  infln- 
eoca  over  the  pooplo,  declined.  As  for  as  I  can  judge, 
Ur,  Maicland  has  triumphonlly  proved,  that  the  com- 
mon nation  of  the  Duiversal  ignorance,  and  larinesa, 
and  depravity  of  the  monks,  even  daring  this  period, 
has  been  much  exaggerated ;  stitl,  the  complajnts  of 
the  ecclesiastical  writers  of  the  lime,  writers  of  tbeir 
own  Order,  —  tlierc  were  no  other,  —  jirovc 
fold  disorders  had  crept  iiiio  tbe  religious  li 


8T,  ROMUALDO,  155 

tiiat  the  primitiYe  role  6f  the  foander,  particalarlj  that 
chapter  which  enjoined  manual  labor,  was  neglected 
or  eyaded  by  the  monks.  If  there  appeared  among 
ihem  some  men  more  conscientions  or  more  enlight- 
ened, who  denoonced,  or  endeavored  to  reform,  these 
abuses,  they  were  in  some  instances  imprisoned  or 
even  murdered  by  their  own  companions ;  oftener  they 
withdrew  in  disgnst,  and  hid  themselyes  in  deserts,  to 
avoid  what  they  could  neither  heal  nor  prevent.  The 
number  of  these  solitaries  was  so  great,  that  every 
forest,  every  woodland  glade,  or  rocky  glen,  had  its 
hermit-cell;  and  in  all  the  romances,  legends,  and 
poems  of  file  time,  some  holy  hermit  is  sure  to  figure 
as  one  of  the  chief  actors. 

The  first  successful  attempt  to  restore  the  strict  in- 
stitutions of  St.  Benedict  was  made  in  France,  in  the 
&mou8  monastery  of  Clugni,  by  the  Abbot  Odo,  be- 
tween 927  and  942:  but  as  these  monks  of  Clugni, 
however  important  in  the  page  of  history,  are  com- 
paratively insignificant  in  art,  I  pass  them  over  for  the 
present.  In  Italy,  the  reform  began  in  the  following 
century  under  Bomualdo  and  Gualberto,  two  very 
remarkable  characters,  who  occur  very  frequently  in 
the  early  Florentine  works  of  art,  but  rarely  in  any 
other. 


St.  Bomualdo,  Foundes  of  thb  Osdbb  of 

Camaldoli. 

Feb.  7,  1027. 

The  babit  entirely  white, — white  hood  and  girdle. 

Bomualdo,  descended  from  one  of  the  noblest  fami- 
lies of  Bavenna,  that  of  the  Onesti,  was  born  about 
the  year  956 ;  his  father,  Sergius,  gave  him  the  usual 
education  of  a  young  nobleman  of  that  time.  In  his 
youth  he  was  fond  of  hunting,  but  when  he  chased  the 


156   LEGENDS  OF  TEE  MQSdSTIC  OKDkRB. 

bORT  throD^  the  pine  fbresU  of  Ravenna,  he  woold 

BlaFken  his  hridlc,  and  Iwcome,  bIhiobi  Dnmnacioualy 
to  himself,  nbsortxNl  tii  contcmplalion  of  the  bvBiilir 
and  qujetade  of  the  Brene.  Thi;a  hi;  would  aigh  funh 
B  prayer  or  two,  and  think  of  the  liii!>piiiess  of  those 
who  dweQ  in  pcarc  far  from  iha  vain  pleuaurea  and 
dereits  and  turmoil  of  the  world. 

His  feiher,  Scrgiua,  r/ax  »  man  of  a  far  diflferant 
spirit,  —  worldlj,  haughty,  grasping,  and  violent.  Be- 
lieving himaolf  aggrioved  by  b  near  relation,  on  the 
BubjocC  of  a  anr£«esioii  Co  a  cenmn  iisenire,  in  tim 
murse  of  the  dispnte  he  challenged  bis  adversaiy  and 
slew  him  on  (he  epoC.  Romoaldo,  then  a  yonng  man 
of  twenty,  wan  present  on  this  owaaion;  und,  stmek 
with  horror  and  compunction,  he  believed  himeelf  called 
upon  to  expiate  the  crime  of  hie  father  by  doing  pen- 
'C  himself.  He  retired  to  the  monastery  of 
SanC  ApolUnara  in  Claae,  about  four  miles  from  tlie 
city  of  Kavcnna ;  and  there,  in  a  fit  of  disgust  and 
despair,  assamcd  the  hahit  of  tlie  Order  of  St.  Bene- 
dict. He  passed  seven  years  in  the  convent,  but  was 
Bcandalizad  by  the  Jrregalarily  of  the  monks,  and  the 
impunity  with  wiiich  the  fundamental  rules  of  b  reli^ 
ious  order  were  daily  and  hourly  traQsgressed.  The 
idea  of  rcstaring  to  the  monastical  institutions  that 
purity  and  that  spiritual  elevation  of  which  be  fondly 
believed  them  capable,  look  possession  of  his  mind,  and 
the  rest  of  his  long  life  was  one  of  pcrpetnal  straggle  in 
the  cause.  He  was  slandered  and  vilified  by  Ihe  co> 
rapt  monks,  his  lilb  threatened,  oflcn  in  danger;  hot 
his  enChusuislic  bith  and  firmness  overcame  all.  After 
a  conflict  of  abont  thirty  years,  he  found  himself  at  the 
head  of  some  Imndrcda  of  reformed  monks,  and  had 
become  celebrated  throughout  the  whole  of  the  North 
of  Italy. 

The  parent  monRStcry  wag  founded  by  Itomualdo,  in 
'  B  Apenninc 


called  fro, 


the  family  na 
CuBifio-Maiduii  i   hence  t! 


le  of  il 


original 


a  Ord 


ST.  ROMUALDO. 


'57 


It  IB  one  of  the  etricteat  of  all  Iha  monMlic  instiwUong, 
The  congregations  of  the  Camoldolesi  remiod  as  in 
some  respecu  of  those  of  the  aocieiit  EgjptisJi  hemutB ; 
Ibe/  are  cleToted  to  the  perpetiml  servico  of  God,  in 
tileaw,  contemplatjoa,  sod  mlitudu;  they  neitlier  con- 
veree  nor  Eat  together,  hut  live  in  separate  hnts,  each  of 
which  has  ita  little  garden,  for  tJiut  part  of  the  inxdcola 
of  St.  Benedict  which  enjoined  manual  Inhor  is  rclained. 
Bomoaldu  dial  in  1027,  occarditig  \o  his  legend,  at 
the  great  age  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  yeara  ;  ac- 
cording to  more  probableuccounta,  at  the  age  of  seventy. 
DanlB  has  placed  bim  in  hie  Paradiso  (c.  22J  "ninODg 

Figures  of  St.  Komniiildo  are  met  with  only  in.  pic- 
pniotsd  for  the  houses  of  his  Order,  and  are  ensiJy 
'iBco^iied.  Ue  wfsra  (he  white  hubit,  witli  louse  wide 
iTe»,  a  long  white  beard  descending  lo  his  girdle, 
leana  upon  a  cmtch  :  wo  have  such  a  piciiire  in 
National  Gallery,  pnintod  by  TaJden  Gaddi,  either 
Comnldoli,  or,whicli  is  mora  probO' 
ble,  for  that  of  the  "  Aogeli,"  a  foundation  of  the 
Camshloleai  at  Florence,  now  anppressed.  It  is  one 
of  the  two  compartments  entitled  in  the  calalogne 
"  Snints  "  ;  the  Virgin  and  Child  bnviug  evidently 
formed  the  centre  group.  St.  Komnaldo  eica  Dd  the 
right  in  front;  his  pendant  in  the  Dji|>osUe  wing  being 
St.  Benedict  witii  his  rod.  Thus  we  bare  llie  two 
patriarchB  of  the  Order  most  conspiccoualy  placed. 
With  St.  Benedict,  hogioning  at  the  top,  we  have  8t. 
Ambrose  with  his  music-book,  St.  Francis,  St.  Stephen, 
St.  Paul,  St.  Catherine  aa  patroness  of  tlieologlana  and 
schoolmen,  St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  Mark  (holding 
his  GoBpcl  open  at  the  text  eh.  xvi.  v.  16} ;  and  in 
eorapany  with  St,  Bomualdo  we  find  St.  Gregory,  St. 
l^lip,  fit.  Laurence,  St.  Doniinick,  St.  John  the 
"  »eUst,  Si.  Peter,  and  (I  thiuk)  St.  Bernard,  llio 
great  scholar  and  polemic  of  his  time,  as  pendant  t( 
8l.  Catherine, 


the  spirits  of  m 

I  Figures  of  8 

L  tnres  pniotsd  fo 

^^H  rmcogniied.  11 
^^K^rieeves,  a  long 
^^^Bltid  leana  npor 
^^BhsBT  National  G 
^^<lbr  the  coQVom 
I  ble,  for  that  c 

{  Camshlolesi  at 


158  LEGE.VOS  OF  TUK  MONASTIC 

•'  The  Viaion  of  Bl-  Roma&ldo  "  ia  the  only  snbject 
I  have  seen  from  bis  life.  It  ia  recorded  in  his  ll^gcnd,• 
\a  before  his  death,  he  fell  saleep  beride 
H  founUiu  ni?Jir  bia  cell ;  and  ho  drcamtd,  and  in  bid 
dream  he  saw  a  ladder  like  that  wbitb  the  putnaich 
Jamb  bobold  in  fais  vision,  reatiDg  on  the  cnnli,  and  the 
top  uf  it  rco^^hiug  to  henreii ;  and  lie  saw  tlie  brelliron 
of  his  Order  Miwnding  by  Iwos  and  by  threes  all  clothed 
in  white.  When  Roinnaldo  BTroke  from  his  dream,  ba 
changed  the  habit  of  hie  monka  irom  block  to  wbile, 
which  they  have  ever  since  worn  in  remembrance  of 
this  vision. 

The  earliest  esample  is  a  small  picture  by  8imoDa 
Avanzi,  which  1  saw  in  ibo  Bologna  Gallery.  The 
latest,  and  a  jiutlj  celebrated  picture,  it  the  large  altar- 
piece  t  by  AiiUroa  Socebi,  painted  for  the  Chnrth  of  the 
Cnmaldolesi  at  Romej  the  saint,  seated  under  a  tree, 
leaning  on  his  italf,  and  Burroundcd  lij  five  of  bis 
monks,  is  pointing  to  (he  vision  represented  in  the 
backgroand.  It  has  been  a  question  whether  Andrea 
bus  not  committed  an  error  in  reprCBenling  St.  BomB- 
aldo  and  bis  companions  alreadj  In  white;  supposing 
the  alteration  10  have  been  tuade  in  conwqncnec  of  the 
vision.  But  the  picture  ought  perhaps  to  he  nnder- 
Elood  in  a  devotional  and  ideal  Benso,  as  Romnaldo 
pointiog  ont  to  his  recluses  the  pntb  to  heaven. 

Although  the  Camaldolcsi  bavu  not  Ixen  remarkable 
as  patrons  of  art,  their  Order  produced  a  painter  nf 
great  importance  in  bia  tinio,  —  Lorenzo,  called  from  bis 
profession  Don  Loretrao  Monaco ;  and  another  painter 
numed  Giovanni,  who  belonged  to  the  soioe  convent, 
"  Degli  Angeli,"  alreadj  mentioned.  Several  pictures 
'         "' is  BnpproBBed  C(        "■         ■      •     '-  ■       ■ 


Frate  Angelico 


n  which  Don  Gio' 


i  Mona 


In  the  Gallery  of  tliu   Uffiii,  i 


beautiful  Adoration  of  the  Mugi  by  Don  Lorens 


ST.  JOHN  GU ALBERTO, 


159 


St.  John  Gualbbbto,   Eoundeb  of  thb  Obdeb 

OF  Yallombbosa. 

ItaL  San  GioTanni  Gnalberto.    Fr,  S.  Jean  Gnalbert,  or  Galbert. 

July  12, 1073. 

The  proper  habit  is  a  i>ale  ash  color  or  light  gray  \  the  monks 
DOfw  irear  a  black  cloak,  and,  when  abroad,  a  large  hat. 

Saint  John  Gualbebto  appears  only  in  the  Floren- 
tine pictareS)  and  I  have  never  seen  his  beautiful  legend 
represented  in  a  manner  worthy  of  its  picturesque  and 
poetical  associations  and  grave  moral  significance. 

Giovanni  Gnalberto  was  bom  at  Florence  of  rich  and 
noble  lineage.  His  father,  who  was  of  high  military 
rank,  gave  him  a  good  education  according  to  the  ideas 
of  tibe  time :  he  excelled  in  all  manly  exercises,  and 
entered  on  the  active  and  brilliant  career  of  a  young 
Florentine  noble,  in  the  days  when  his  native  city  was 
rising  into  power  and  opulence  as  a  sovereign  state. 

When  he  was  still  a  young  man,  his  only  brother, 
Hugo,  whom  he  loved  exceedingly,  was  murdered  by  a 
gentleman  with  whom  he  had  a  quarrel.  Gnalberto, 
whose  grief  and  fury  were  stimulated  by  the  rage  of 
his  father  and  the  tears  of  his  mother,  set  forth  in  pur- 
suit of  the  assassin,  vowing  a  prompt  and  a  terrible 
vengeance. 

It  happened,  that  when  returning  from  Florence  to 
the  country-Iiouse  of  his  father  on  the  evening  of  Good 
Friday,  he  took  his  way  over  the  steep,  narrow,  wind- 
ing road  which  leads  from  the  city  gate  to  the  church 
of  San  Miniato-del-Monte.  About  half-way  up  the  hill, 
where  the  road  turns  to  the  right,  he  suddenly  came 
upon  his  enemy  alone  and  unarmed.  At  the  sight  of 
tlie  assassin  of  his  brother,  thus,  as  it  were,  given  into 
his  hand,  Guall)erto  drew  his  sword.  The  miserable 
wretch,  seeing  no  means  of  escape,  fell  upon  his  knees 


l6o  LEGENDS  OF   THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

and  entreated  mercy;  eilending  hia  Hrma  in  the  form 
of  K  croHa.  ho  ])djtirad  him  by  the  remembrance  of 
Chtisc,  who  hod  Buffered  <>□  tliat  daj,  [a  spare  his 
liTe,  Goalberto,  struck  vitli  a  eadden  roinpuncdoD, 
remomberiag  that  Chriat  when  on  the  cross  had  pnjed 
for  hi>  mardereiB,  Etaycd  his  uplifted  sn'ord,  trembling 
from  head  to  foot;  luid  after  a  moment  of  terrible  con- 
flict with  his  own  heart,  and  a  prayer  (or  Divine  Bnp- 
port,  ho  held  oat  his  hand,  raised  the  suppliant  from 
tlie  ground,  and  embraced  him  in  token  of  forgiTCnna. 
Thus  they  parted;  aud  Gualbcrlo,  proceeding  on  his 
way  in  a  sad  aud  sorrowful  mood,  every  pulse  throb- 
bing with  the  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  and  thinking 
on  the  crime  ho  hod  l>eeu  on  the  point  of  commiltiDg,  ar- 
rived at  die  chnrch  of  San  Miniato,  and,  entering,  knelt 
down  before  the  crucifix  over  the  altar.  His  rage  had 
given  way  to  tears,  his  heart  melted  within  him;  and 
as  he  wept  before  the  image  of  the  Saviour,  and  suppli- 
cated mercy  berauao  ho  had  ihown  mercy,  ho  feneied, 
that,  in  grauious  reply  to  his  prayer,  the  fi(:ure  bowed 
its  head.*  This  miracle,  for  snch  he  deemed  it,  com- 
pleted the  revolution  which  had  taken  pluie  in  hia  whole 
character  and  atala  of  being.  From  Ihat  moment.  Ilia 
world  and  all  ila  vanities  became  hateful  To  him  ;  he  felt 
like  one  who  had  been  saved  npon  llie  edge  of  a  pttd- 
piee :  ho  entered  the  Benedictine  Order,  and  took  up 
his  residence  in  the  monuEtery  of  San  Mioiaio.  Here 
ho  dwell  for  some  lime  an  humble  penitent;  all  earthly 
ambition  quenched  at  once  with  the  spirit  of  revenge. 
Oa  the  death  of  the  Abbot  of  San  Miniato,  he  was 
cleelod  to  auccBOd  him,  but  no  porBnaaions  conld  induce 
bim  to  accept  of  (he  office.  He  left  the  Foiivent,  and 
raiirsd  to  a  solitude  amid  the  Apennines  about  twenty 
milea  from  Floreni'C,  the  Vallombroaa,  renowned  for  its 
poetical  as  well  as  Its  religious  aaHKiations. 

Here  he  took  np  hia  abode,  aud  built  himself  a  little 
hut  in  company  with  two  other  hormita.  But  othets, 
*  Tbli  erudSi  <•  preKrred  la  the  Ghimb  of  the  Tilaltl  at  Flgi~ 


8T,  JOHN  GUALBERTO.  i6i 

attracted  by  his  sanctity,  collected  around  him;  the 
number  increased  daily,  all  regarding  him  as  their  head, 
and  he  found  it  necessary  to  introduce  some  order  into 
his  community.  He  therefore  gave  to  his  disciples  tlie 
rule  of  St.  Benedict,  renewing  those  strict  observances 
which  for  three  centuries  had  been  almost  laid  aside ; 
adding  also  some  new  obligations,  —  for  example,  that 
of  silence.  The  rule,  however,  was  considerably  less 
severe  than  that  of  the  Camaldolesi. 

This  new  institution  received  the  confirmation  of  the 
Pope,  and  the  founder  lived  to  see  twelve  houses  of  his 
Order  spring  up  around  him.  One  of  the  most  cele- 
brated of  these,  next  to  the  parent  institution  at  Yallom- 
brosa,  was  the  monastery  of  the  Salvi,.  about  two  miles 
from  Florence :  it  is  now  ruined  and  deserted,  but  the 
vast  space  it  covers  shows  its  former  magnificence.  In 
the  refectory  still  exists  Andrea  del  Sarto's  Last  Sup- 
per, to  which  many  a  pilgrimage  is  still  made.  The 
Church  of  the  Trinitk  at  Florence,  so  familiar  to  those 
who  have  dwelt  there,  also  belongs  to  the  monks  of 
Yallombrosa. 

St.  John  Gualberto  died  in  1073.  The  devotional 
figures  of  this  saint,  which  are  to  be  found  only  in  the 
pictures  painted  for  the  convents  of  his  Order,  exhibit 
him  in  the  light-gray  habit,  and  in  general  holding  a 
cross  in  his  hand,  sometimes  also  a  crutch.  He  is  gen- 
erally beardless. 

With  regard  to  the  subjects  from  his  life,  some  of 
them  are  of  extreme  interest  in  the  history  of  Florentine 
art.  I  have  always  regretted  that  the  most  beautiful 
and  most  afiecting  incident  in  his  story,  the  meeting 
with  the  murderer  on  the  road  to  San  Miniato,  has 
never  been  worthily  treated.  The  spot  where  the  meet- 
ing took  place  has  been  consecrated  to  memory  by  a 
small  tabernacle  surmounted  by  a  cross,  within  which 
the  scene  is  represented ;  and  I  remember,  in  the  churches 
at  Florence  and  in  the  convents  of  the  Order  of  Yallom- 
brosa, several  miserably  bad  pictures  of  this  incident, 

XI 


:6l  LEOENDB  OF  THE  MOA'ASIUC  ylRDEHSM 

irhera  Gonlberto  is  gcnonlly  on  armed  cavalier  on 
boracbock,  and  the  murderer  kueolB  at  his  stirrup  cii- 
troiting  mercj.  There  may  possiblj  exist  better  ex- 
amples, but  I  h&Te  not  met  with  them.  Ai  tbe  Ordi.T 
increased  in  importance  and  in  ricbes,  (he  sabjecta  ec- 
lected  bf  the  monks  were  those  relating  to  [he  religious 
life  of  their  tbnoder  anil  lo  the  legends  connected  with 
it.     The  following  are  the  most  imponant  -.  — 

1.  John  Gualbcrto,  amongst  his  other  viitnes,  was 
raraaikablo  fiir  his  siniplidiy  and  Ids  hnmiliQ'.  On  a 
certain  occasion,  visiting  ooo  of  his  dependent  monas- 
teriea,  that  of  Moscetla  or  Moscera,  over  which  he 
had  placed,  aa  Superior,  one  of  his  diadples  named 
Bodolfo,  he  found  that  this  man  had  expended  in 
tbe  embetliebment  of  his  convent  a  large  portion  of 
the  amns  intmaled  to  him ;  having  enriched  it  wilb 
marbles,  columns,  and  other  docorntioiiB.  Gualberto* 
itomly  reproved  this  vainglory,  and  prophesied  the  im- 
pending destmcllon  of  tlie  convent,  which  soon  afler 
look  place,  Irom  a  sadden  inuuduuon  of  the  moantain 
I,  which  carried  away  great  part  of  the  newly 
'  edifice. 

S.  Gnalberto  liad  distinguished  himBelf  by  his  con- 
stant enmity  to  the  practice  of  gimooy  then  common  in 
the  Church.  Pietro  di  I'avia,  a  man  of  infamous  char- 
acter, having  purchased  by  gold  tbe  orcbbishopric  of 
Plorence,  Gualberto  denounced  him  for  this  and  other 
malpractices.  Pietro  sent  a  body  of  soldiers,  who 
humt  and  pillaged  iho  monastery  of  Ban  Salvi,  and 
mnidorod  several  of  the  monks.  Gaalberto  persisted 
in  hia  accusation ;  but  such  was  the  power  of  lliis 
wicked  and  violent  prelate,  that  bo  would  probably 
have  prevailed,  if  one  of  tbe  monks  of  Vallombrosa 
bad  not  demanded  the  ordeal  of  fire,  at  that  time  in 
l^al  use.  He  passed  between  the  flames  triumphantly, 
and  the  archbishop  whs  deposed.  This  monk,  after- 
wards known  as  Peler  Igneus,  is  commemorated  among 
the  worthies  of  llie  Order.     I  have  Eeeii  tliia  iui:ideut._ 

■u.  Soulhcr'"  Poams.  BBllhduf  S,  Qualbrrlo.  JH 


8T,  JOHN  GUALBERTO.  163 

represented  in  pictures  ;  he  is  seen  passing  in  his  white 
habit  between  two  fires  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of 
spectators,  St.  John  Gualberto  standing  by :  —  as  in  a 
small  picture  by  Andrea  del  Sarto.     (Fl.  Acad.) 

3.  It  is  related  of  Gualberto,  as  of  other  saints,  that 
when  his  monks  were  driven  to  extremity  by  want,  he 
multiplied  the  viands  upon  the  table. 

4.  One  of  his  monks  being  grievously  tormented  by 
the  demon  when  on  his  sick-bed,  Gualberto  came  to 
his  assistance,  and,  holding  up  the  cross  which  he 
usually  carried  in  his  hand,  he  exorcised  the  tormentor. 

When  the  figure  of  a  cardinal  is  introduced  into  pic- 
tures painted  for  this  Order,  as  in  the  magnificent  As- 
sumption by  Perugino,  it  represents  St.  Bernard  degli 
Uberti,  a  celebrated  abbot  of  Vallombrosa.  The  same 
cardinal  is  introduced  into  a  group  of  saints,  **  St. 
Michael,  St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  John  Gualberto, 
and  the  Cardinal  St.  Bernard'*;  —  one  of  the  grand- 
est pictures  ever  painted  by  Andrea  del  Sarto.  (Fl. 
Acad.) 

The  most  beautiful  monument  relating  to  the  history 
of  Gualberto  is  the  series  of  bas-reliefs  by  Hovezzano, 
now  in  the  Florence  Gallery.  At  the  time  when  the 
remains  of  the  saint  were  about  to  be  translated  from 
the  convent  of  Fassignano  to  that  of  the  Salvi,  Rovez- 
zano  was  employed  to  build  a  chapel  and  a  shrine  to 
receive  them.  Of  the  shrine,  which  was  of  exquisite 
beauty,  but  little  remains  except  this  series  of  five 
compositions :  —  1.  Gualberto  exorcises  the  demon  from 
the  couch  of  the  monk  Fiorenzo.  2.  The  monks, 
while  performing  service  in  the  choir,  are  attacked  by 
the  soldiers  of  the  archbishop  and  his  partisans.  3. 
Peter  Igneus,  having  received  the  blessing  of  his  supe- 
rior, passes  unhurt  through  the  fire.  4.  The  death  of 
the  saint,  surrounded  by  his  weeping  monks.  5.  The 
translation  of  the  relics  of  St.  John  Gualberto.  The 
blind,  the  lame,  and  other  afflicted  persons,  throw 
themselves  in  the  way  of  the  procession. 

These  charming  works,  among  the  most  finished  re- 


i66  LECKSm  OF  TUK  MONASTIC  ORDESt 


Teb  Cabtrdsiams. 

Toe  Carthusian  Order  whb  foanded  ia  laS4,  by 
Bruno,  a  munk  of  Cologna.  The  first  KSt  of  the 
Order  wm  the  bmoul  moQastery  at  Chartnax,  ncsr 
Grenoble  (ofWrwords  kiiowu  ta  ta  griaide  Charlraae, 
and  which  gave  its  muao  to  tbo  Order,  and  all  the 
affiliated  ronndationfl).  Another  contemporHiy  monas- 
tecj  rose  nt  La  Torre,  in  Calabria.  Both  were  reared 
b;  Bruno  bimBelT  ja  his  tifetimo. 

Of  all  the  mrormed  Benedictine  congregations,  the 
Ordor  of  the  Carthusians  is  the  most  anetere,  but  it  ia 
t\so  the  most  inlercdting.  As  a  coTDmnnilj,  the  Car- 
tbusians  have  aeitt  exhibited  the  ambitious  self-acdiing 
of  the  Fraotierans  and  the  Dominicans.  They  have 
lieen  leaa  in  alliance  with  the  Chnrch  as  a  pover ; 
more  in  alliancB  with  rcli^on  as  an  influence.  In 
their  traditional  origin,  and  the  early  legends  connected 
with  their  tbondcr  Bmiio,  there  i»  gomething  wildly 
poetical :  in  tlie  appearance  of  tbo  monks  themselves, 
in  their  ample  white  rohca  and  hoods,  their  Eandalled 
feet  and  shaven  heads,  (for  the  tonsure  re  not  with 
them  partial,  as  with  other  monks,)  Ihoro  ia  Bomething 
strangely  picturesque.  Their  spare  diet,  their  rigorous 
eccluslon,  and  their  habits  of  labor,  give  them  an 
emaciated  look,  a  pale  quietude,  in  which,  however, 
there  ia  no  feebleness,  no  appearance  of  iil  health  or 
squalor ;  I  never  saw  a  Carthusian  monk  who  did  not 
look  like  a  gentleman.  The  sampniong  cbnrchcs  and 
edifices  of  this  self-denying  Order  date  from  the  six- 
teenth century  ;  about  that  period  we  find  the  first  appli- 
cation of  their  increasing  fluids  to  purposes  of  architec- 
ture and  artistic  decoration.  They  had  previously  been 
remarkable  for  their  fine  librnrica,  and  their  skill  in 
gardening.  They  were  the  first  and  the  gremest  hor- 
tjcnlturists  in  Europo :  of  the  Corthnsians  it  may  em 
phatically  be  said,  timt  wherever  they  settled,  "  they 


THE  CARTHUSIANS.  167 

made  the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose."  When  ther 
bailt  their  first  nest  amid  the  barren  heights  of  Char* 
treux,  they  converted  the  stony  waste  into  a  garden.' 
When  they  were  set  down  amid  the  marshes  at  Favia, 
they  drained,  they  tilled,  they  planted,  till  the  unhealthy 
swamp  was  clothed,  for  miles  around,  with  beauty  and 
fertili^ :  it  is  now  fast  sinking  back  to  its  pristine  state, 
but  that  is  not  the  foult  of  the  few  poor  monks,  who, 
after  years  of  exile,  have  lately  been  restored  to  their 
cells,  and  wander  up  and  down  the  precincts  of  that 
wondrous  palace-like  church,  and  once  smiling  garden, 
like  pale  phantoms  come  back  to  haunt  their  earthly 
homes. 

It  is  remarkable  that,  with  all  their  sumptuous  pat- 
ronage of  art,  and  all  their  love  of  the  beautiful  in  na- 
ture, these  religious  recluses  have  never  been  accused  of 
deviating  personally  from  the  rigid  rule  of  their  Order, 
which  has  been  but  slightly  modified  since  the  days  of 
Peter  of  Clugni,  who,  writing  of  them  about  fifty  years 
after  the  death  of  their  founder  Bruno,  has  left  us  such 
a  striking,  and  almost  fearful,  description  of  their  aus- 
terities. The  rule  was  the  severest  ever  yet  prescribed. 
To  the  ordinances  of  St.  Benedict,  which  commanded 
poverty,  chastity,  obedience,  and  daily  labor,  was  added 
almost  perpetual  silence ;  only  once  a  week  they  were 
allowed  to  walk  and  discourse  together.  They  fasted 
rigorously  eight  months  out  of  the  twelve ;  flesh  was 
absolutely  forbidden  at  all  times,  even  to  the  sick  ;  of 
the  pulse,  bread  and  water,  to  which  they  were  confined, 
they  made  but  one  meal  a  day,  and  that  was  eaten  sep- 
arately, and  in  silence,  except  on  certain  festivals,  when 
they  were  allowed  to  eat  together.  They  were  enjoined 
to  study,  and  to  labor  with  their  hands ;  their  labor  con- 
sisted in  cultivating  their  fields  and  gardens,  and  in 
transcribing  books,  by  which,  in  the  commencement  of 
of  the  institution,  they  supported  and  enriched  their 
community.  Mr.  Ford  (Handbook  of  Spain)  speaks 
of  the  Carthusian  monks  at  Fnular,  as  paper-makers 
and  breeders  of  sheep  on  a  large  scale.     The  libraries 


,6»  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS^. 

in  Iho  CarthnBuui  <»Dveiits  have  always  been  well  filled 
with  books,  cvED  irom  the  first  inaiitotion  of  the  Order. 
St.  Bruno,  who  liad  l)ccn  an  eminent  echolor  and 
tmohor,  waB  cansful  lo  provide  good  boolu)  u  a  great 
•sxpeaBO,  and  these  were  tranBcribod  and  mnluplied  bj 
the  laonka  with  moBt  praiseworthy  indnaliy.  When 
the  Count  do  Severs,  who  had  bcon  much  edified  hy 
their  Banctily,  max  lliem  a  rich  present  of  plate  for  their 
churcli,  they  sent  it  bock  as  aeelesa  lo  them.  He  then 
Mnt  them  a  qaantity  of  parchment  and  leather  for  their 
books,  which  they  accepted  with  gratiludo." 

Peter  of  Clugni,  writiug  to  Pope  Eugetiiue,  to  com- 
plain of  some  contention  relative  to  the  oloftiaa  of  a  Sn- 
pcrior  of  the  Canhnsiana,  thus  exprosaca  hia  admiration 
of  tho  Order  generally  :  — 

"  I  thought,  and  I  do  not  believe  I  was  wrong,  that 
theira  was  the  best  of  all  tho  I>atin  aysCema,  and  that 
tbey  were  not  of  thoae  who  strain  at  a  gnat  and  awal- 
Iniv  a  camel :  thai  is,  who  make  void  the  command- 
ment of  God  ioi  the  tradiliona  of  men  ;  and,  tiihing 
mint,  and  aoise,  and  cummin,  and  (awording 
Evaqgelist)  every  horh,  neglecting  ihe  weightii 


•  The  I 


h  the  1 


dlffisa)!  U.  prcmmUieOld  THUmenl 
nod  HpnrUely,  We  Qnil  MS,  ODpIes  ot 
k  D<  Job,  Uie  PnphHica,  the  Saar  Oaipels, 
micnl  BpisUea,  bU  " 


ST.  BRUNO.  169 

ten  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith.  For  they 
do  not  consider  the  kingdom  of  God  as  consisting  prin- 
cipally in  meats  and  drinks,  in  garments,  in  labors,  and 
the  like,  though  these,  wisely  managed,  may  do  that 
kingdom  of  God  good  service ;  but  in  that  godliness  of 
which  the  Apostle  says,  *  Bodily  exercise  is  profitable 
to  little,  but  godliness  is  profitable  to  all  things,  having 
promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to 
come.'  These  holy  men  feast  at  the  table  of  wisdom ; 
they  are  entertained  at  the  banquet  of  the  true  Solomon, 
not  in  superstitions,  not  in  hypocrisy,  not  in  the  leaven 
of  malice  and  wickedness,  but  in  the  unleavened  bread 
of  sincerity  and  truth." 

I  have  said  enough  of  the  Carthusians,  to  show  what 
interest  attaches  to  their  connection  with  art ;  but,  at 
first  sight,  it  appears  unaccountable,  that  while  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Order  dates  from  the  year  1084  or  1086, 
we  do  not  find  that  the  Carthusians  figure  in  very  early 
art.  This  is  explained  by  the  circumstance  that  their 
founder  and  patriarch,  Bruno,  was  not  canonized  for 
more  than  five  hundred  years  after  his  death.  The  Or- 
der had  increased  in  numbers,  in  possessions,  and  in 
influence,  but  the  monks  remained  secluded,  laborious, 
and  unambitious  ;  at  length,  Bruno  was  declared  a 
Beato  by  Leo  X. ;  —  the  most  humble  and  self-4enying 
of  ascetics  was  beatified  by  the  most  luxurious  and 
profligate  of  churchmen  1  —  and  he  was  finally  canon- 
ized by  Gregory  XV.  in  1623. 

Of  course,  aU  the  single  devotional  figures  of  Bruno, 
as  saint  and  patriarch,  date  subsequently  to  this  period ; 
he  wears  the  peculiar  habit  of  his  Order,  the  white  scap- 
ular, which,  hanging  down  before  and  behind,  is  joined 
at  the  side  by  a  band  of  the  same  color,  about  six  inches 
wide.  The  hands  are  usually  crossed  on  the  bosom, 
the  head  declined,  and  the  whole  attitude  expresses  con- 
templation and  humility. 

There  was  a  fine  statue  of  St.  Bruno  over  the  porch 
of  the  hospital  of  the  Carthusians,  in  the  Alcaic  at 
Madrid.     (Manuel  Fcreyra,  1647.)    This  effigy  was  so 


I  JO 


'.EGKNDS  or  THE  MONASTIC  OEDEXi 


iDiich  admirad  bj  Philip  IV.,  that  Ibe  roachman  who 
drore  him  ahoui  Mn'lriij  bod  general  orders  to  slacken 
liis  pace  wheaevcir  tlie  royal  carringe  paused  it.  in  order 
that  Iho  king  might  have  leiearc  to  dwell  upon  It  lor  a 
thw  momeau.*  This  BUitae  1  have  not  secD,  bnt  it 
eonid  hardlj  surpass  the  flno  characteristic  liguro  b; 
Uoadon,  in  (he  Cartoea  at  Rome.  This,  for  eimpliritj 
and  contemplative  repose,  fia  exceeds  another  figure  of 
the  same  saint,  the  eolosaal  st&tuo  by  Sluediz,  in  St  Pe- 
ter's, erected  soon  nfler  the  canonization  of  (he  saint. 

Instead  of  relating  ia  detail  the  life  of  St.  Bruno,  I 
will  give  it  here  as  represented  bj  Le  Sueur,  in  the  ap- 
rics  of  pictures  painted  for  the  clotHters  of  the  Char- 
IieDBO  at  Paris,  in  1649 ;  purchased  from  the  monks, 
and  transferrod  to  Torsaillos,  in  1776 ;  and  now  in  th« 
LoQTie,  where  the  twenty-two  pictures  fill  one  room  :  — 

1.  Bajmond,  a  learned  doctor  of  Paris,  ajid  canon 
of  Noire  Dame,  teochiog  theology  to  bis  pupils. 

Bruno,  born  at  Cologne,  was  the  son  of  lich  and  no- 
ble parents,  who,  proud  of  his  early  dutlinution  in  let- 
ters, sent  him  to  finish  his  studies  in  the  theological 
school  at  Paris,  imder  a  celebrated  teacher  and  preacher, 
whose  name  was  Baymond.  Id  tliis  picture  Raymond 
is  itutructing  his  auditors  from  the  pulpit,  and  Bruno. 
under  the  lineaments  of  a  boantiliil  youth,  is  seated  in 
front,  —  a  book  nnder  his  arm,  and  listening  with  deep 

a.  The  death  of  Itaymond. 

This  learned  doctor,  veQcroted  by  the  people  for  his 
apparent  piety  and  auaters  virtue,  lies  extended  on  hia 
death-bed.  A  priosl,  attended  liy  two  young  students, 
one  of  whom  is  Bruno,  piesents  the  cnidlix.  A  demon 
at  the  pillow  appears  ready  to  catch  the  fiecting  sonl. 
This  may  have  suggested  to  Reynolds  the  imp  upon  the 
pillow  of  Cardinal  Bcanfort ;  hut  in  both  instances  it  is 
a  fault  of  taste  which  we  expect  to  meet  with  s>nd  ex- 
cuM  in  the  early  iigea  of  art,  but  which  is  inexcosablo 


ST,  BRUNO.  171 

in  painters  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centu- 
ries. 

3.  The  fearful  resurrection  of  Raymond. 

«  Now  Raymond,  being  greatly  venerated  for  his  ap- 
parent sanctity,  was  carried  to  the  grave  attended  by  a 
great  concourse  of  the  people ;  and  as  they  were  chant- 
ing the  service  for  the  dead,  just  as  they  came  to  the 
words  '  Responde  mihi  quantas  habes  iniquitates/  the 
dead  man  half  raised  himself  from  his  bier,  aod  cried, 
with  a  lamentable  voice,  '  By  the  justice  of  God  I  am 
accused!*  thereupon  the  priests  laid  down  the  bier,  and 
put  off  the  interment  till  the  following  day.  Next  day 
they  again  formed  in  procession,  and  as  they  chanted 
the  same  words,  *  responde  mihi/  the  dead  man  again 
rose  up  and  cried  out  with  a  more  dreadful  voice,  *  By 
the  justice  of  God  I  am  judged!  *  and  then  sank  down  on 
his  bier  as  before.  Great  was  the  consternation  of  the 
people,  and  they  put  off  the  conclusion  of  the  obsequies 
till  the  third  day ;  when  just  as  they  had  begun  to  chant 
the  same  verse,  trembling  for  the  result,  the  dead  man 
again  rose  up,  crying  with  a  terrible  voice  and  look, 
*  By  the  justice  of  God  I  am  condemned  !  *  Upon  this, 
priests  and  attendants,  half  dead  with  fear  and  horror, 
flung  the  body  out  into  a  field  as  unworthy  of  Christian 
burial.'  In  the  picture  the  ghastly  terror  of  the  inci- 
dent is  given  with  the  highest  dramatic  power  without 
the  slightest  exaggeration ;  and  the  effect  of  the  awful 
incident  on  Bruno,  who  stands  behind  the  officiating 
priest,  prepares  us  for  the  next  scene. 

4.  St.  Bruno  kneeling  before  a  crucifix  in  an  atti- 
tude  of  profound  meditation ;  in  the  background  they  1 
throw  the  body  of  the  canon  into  an  unhallowed  grave. 

5.  St.  Bruno  teaches  theology  in  the  school  at 
Rheims. 

6.  St.  Bruno,  afler  a  long  meditation  on  the  dangers 
of  the  world,  engages  six  of  his  friends  to  follow  him 
into  a  life  of  penance  and  seclusion. 

7.  St.  Bruno  and  his  companions  prepare  to  set  off 
for  Grienoble,  but  first  they  distribute  all  their  worldly 
possessions  in  alms  to  the  poor. 


171  LEGENDS  OF  Till:  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

S.  Hogo,  biabop  of  Grenoble,  bad  ailresm,  i 
he  beholil  scron  Blarv  movo  hcforo  him,  nnd 
BlntiDnuT}'  ulioTO  a  rartain  spot  in  hie  diorcsv. 
Briuo  nod  hU  »tx  compftniong  appeared  in  his  [ 
and  made  their  reqaeat  for  a  spot  of  gTound  on  whic^h 
to  round  B  retreat  &om  the  world,  he  9aw  the  interpreta- 
lian  of  his  vision,  aud  beslowvd  on  ihem  a  rocky  and 
hnrren  hollow  near  Ihu  Bntalait  of  a  moantaio,  about 
BJx  loaves  from  Grenoble. 

9.  Brano  and  his  rompanioni,  preceded  hj  St.  Hago 
on  faia  mule,  journey  lo  the  village  of  Chanreux. 

10.  St.  Bruno  ibuuds  the  mooasierj  afterwajils  cele- 
brated nnder  the  name  of  "  La  Grande  ChaTtreiise." 
(a.  p.  1084.)  In  the  picture  he  a  examining  the  plan 
presented  by  on  architect,  ithile  masons  and  other  artifi. 
Cera  are  seen  at  work  in  the  backgrtiuud. 

11.  St  Hugo,  bishop  of  Grenoble,  ioTestsSt.  Bruno 
with  the  habit  of  his  Order. 

18.  Ths  rnle  which  Brano  drew  up  for  his  broiher- 
hood  is  confirmed  by  Pope  Victor  III,  Thoitgb  in 
this  pictarc,  and  others  of  the  BBBie  subject,  St.  Bruno  ia 


certain  that  his  ordinances  were  not  reduced  l< 
till  after  his  death. 

13.  St.  Bruno,  wearing  the  chasuble  as  abbot,  re- 
ceives aeveral  young  men  into  his  Order.  Atnong 
those  who  are  present  is  the  Mher  of  one  of  the  novices, 
who  Bcems  to  lament  the  loss  of  his  son. 

U.  Urban  II.,  raised  to  (he  pontifii-alo  in  1088,  had 
heeu  one  of  the  disciples  of  St.  Bruno  when  he  lau|;bt 
in  the  anivereity  of  Bheims.  On  his  accession  to  the 
supreme  apiritaal  power,  he  sent  for  St,  Bruno  to  aid 
him  in  the  admin  iatration  of  his  a^ire.  The  picture 
represents  St,  Bruno  reading  the  letter,  while  the  monks 
aronnd  him  exhibit  disquiet  and  consternation.  Sev- 
eral of  these  refiised  to  be  separated  from  him,  and  fi 
lowed  hitn 

15. 


[.  Bruuo  is  received  by  Pope  Urliai 


II. 


nakc  St.  Bruno  archbisl 


ST.  BRUNO.  173 

of  Beggio ;  bat  he  absolately  declined  the  honor.  In 
the  picture,  St.  Brano  in  his  coarse  white  habit  kneels 
before  the  pope :  prelates  and  cardinals  in  rich  dresses 
are  standing  round. 

17.  St.  Bruno,  unable  to  endure  the  cares  and  tur- 
moils of  the  court,  retired  to  a  desert  in  Calabria.  He 
is  seen  lying  on  the  ground,  and  looking  up  at  a  glory 
of  cherubim  in  the  skies. 

18.  He  obtained  leave  from  Urban  to  found  a  con- 
Tent  for  his  Order  in  Calabria.  In  the  picture  he  is 
seen  praying  in  his  cell,  while  several  of  his  monks  are 
employed  in  clearing  and  cultivating  the  ground. 

19.  Roger  (or  Ruggiero),  Count  of  Sicily  and  Cala- 
bria, being  out  on  a  hunting  expedition,  lost  himself  in 
the  wilderness,  and  discovered  the  hermitage  of  St. 
Bruno.  In  the  picture  he  finds  the  holy  man  praying 
in  his  rocky  cell,  and,  kneeling  before  the  entrance,  en- 
treats his  blessing. 

20.  Shortly  afterwards,  this  same  Count  Roger  of 
Sicily  besieged  Capua,  and  while  asleep  in  his  tent  he 
beheld  in  a  vision  St.  Bruno,  who  warned  him  that  one 
of  his  officers  had  conspired  with  the  enemy  to  betray 
his  army.  The  count,  awaking,  is  enabled  to  guard 
against  the  meditated  treachery. 

21.  The  death  of  St.  Bruno,  who  expires  on  his  lowly 
pallet,  surrounded  by  his  monks.  His  death  took  place 
in  1200.  This  is  one  of  the  most  striking  pictures  of 
the  whole  series. 

22.  The  last  picture  represents  the  apotheosis  of  the 
saint.  He  is  carried  up  by  angels,  his  white  habit 
fluttering  against  the  blue  sky.  Not  a  pleasant  pic- 
ture, nor  gracefully  arranged. 

I  have  described  these  subjects  as  painted  by  Le 
Sueur ;  but  the  same  incidents  have  been  often  repeated 
and  varied  by  other  painters,  employed  to  decorate  the 
edifices  of  the  Carthusian  Order.  Whatever  might 
have  been  the  austerities  of  the  monks,  their  churches 
and  monasteries  were  in  later  times  sumptuous.     Znr- 


174  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDJiRa. 

boma  WM  employed  in  the  Chartronfle  of  Santa  Maria 
■Is  ia«  Cueviu.  near  Sevillo,  already  "  rioh  in  architec- 
ture, in  tombs,  plate,  jewels,  carvings,  hooka,  and  pjc- 
turel,  and  culcbrat«l  Ibr  ita  grovca  of  omnije  and  lemon 
trees,  on  the  banks  of  the  Goadalqaircr,"  ■  and  repre- 
sented the  life  of  tbe  ronuder  and  the  fortunes  of  the 
Order  in  twentj-eight  picmroa. 

No  one  ever  painted  the  Canhnsians  like  Zarbaran, 
who  itndied  tiiem  for  months  togahor  while  working 
in  their  cloisters,  ■'  Every  heed  looks  like  a  ponraJt ; 
their  while  draporiea  chill  the  eye,  as  their  cold  hope- 
less faces  ciiill  the  heart"  ;  t  hut  the  bees  are  not  al- 
wny«  cold  and  hopoleaa,  Tho  flno  bond  in  the  Mnnich 
Gallery,  styled  "  St.  Bruno  with  u  skull,"  is  probably 
a  study  of  a,  CarihuBinn  monk,  after  naJnre,  and  DOlh- 
iBg  can  exceed  the  intense  devotional  aspiration  of  the 
upward  look  and  patted  lips, 

The  scries  of  the  life  of  St.  Bruno,  painted  for  the 
Chartreuse  of  Paular  by  Yincenzio  Cardncho,  consisla 
of  fifty-four  large  pictures.  Twenty.wx  reprosont  aeenea 
from  tbe  life  of  St.  Bmno,  and  twenty-six  are  consB' 
crated  10  the  exaltation  of  the  Order.  Both  the  series 
of  Zarboran,  and  that  of  Cardncho,  comprise  the  sub> 
jects  from  tho  story  of  the  Carthusian  martjis,  —  a 
dark  page  in  out  English  history. 

The  Charter-HouHe  waa  suppressed  by  Henry  \Ul., 
after  existing  from  1372:  it  was  founded  by  Sir  Walter 
Mnnuy,  of  chivalrous  memory ;  and  the  bislory  of  the 
diasolutlou  of  tbe  monastery,  and  the  fate  of  the  last' 
unlmppy  monks,  is  fdotingly  related  in  Knight's  "Lon- 
don." The  prior  Haughton  and  eleven  Carthusian 
monks  wore  hanpcd,  drawn,  and  yoartered;  one  of  the 
quarters  of  Hnughlon's  body  being  set  over  the  gale  of 
"  Ten  others  wore  thrown  into 
a  tbe  most  horrible  tyranny,  neglect, 
flllh,  and  despair,  till  tbcj  all,  but  one,  died  onder  the 
6.  he  was  afterwards  executed.     •'  Whal- 

r  WQ  may  think  of  tbeir  opinions,  thcso  ic 
•  Fold's  ULodbDck  of  Spain  I  Sti 


8T,  BRUNO,  175 

trnly  mart3rrs ;  deliberately  dying,  because  they  would 
not  accept  of  mercy  offered  on  condition  of  violating 
their  vows  and  belying  their  conscience."  In  the  series 
by  CarduchOy  two  pictures  represent  the  inonks  in  their 
'vdiite  robes,  dead  or  dying,  and  chained  to  the  pillars 
of  their  dungeon ;  and  open  doors  give  a  view  of  Catho- 
lic martyrs  in  the  hands  of  grim  Protestant  tormentors. 
In  the  third,  three  Carthusians  are  hurried  off  to  execu- 
tion on  a  hurdle  drawn  by  horses,  which  are  urged  to 
their  full  speed  by  their  rider,  in  the  dress  of  a  Spanish 
muleteer. 

This  whole  series  has  been  removed  from  Faular  to 
the  Museum  at  Madrid,  where  it  is  placed  in  the  first 
hall  as  we  enter.  Mr.  Stirling's  observations  on  the 
present  locality  of  these  pictures  are  in  such  good  taste, 
and  so  often  applicable  to  other  changes  of  the  kind, 
that  I  give  the  passage  entire :  — 

**  Like  many  other  trophies  of  Spanish  art,  these  fine 
works  of  Carducho  have  lost  much  of  their  significance 
by  removal  from  the  spot  for  which  they  were  painted. 
Hung  on  the  crowded  walls  of  an  ill-ordered  museum, 
his  Carthusian  histories  can  never  again  speak  to  the 
heart  and  the  fiincy  as  they  once  spoke  in  the  lonely 
cloister  of  Faular,  where  the  silence  was  broken  only 
by  the  breeze  as  it  moaned  through  the  overhanging 
pine-forest,  by  the  tinkling  bell  or  the  choral  chant  of 
the  chapel,  or  by  the  stealing  tread  of  some  mute  white- 
stoled  monk,  the  brother  and  the  heir  of  the  holy  men 
of  old,  whose  good  deeds  and  sufierings  and  triumphs 
were  there  commemorated  on  canvas.  There,  to  many 
generations  of  recluses,  vowed  to  perpetual  silence  and 
solitude,  these  pictures  had  been  companions ;  to  them 
the  painted  saints  and  martyrs  had  become  friends ;  and 
the  benign  Virgins  were  the  sole  objects  within  these 
melancholy  walls  to  remind  them  of  the  existence  of 
woman. 

"  In  the  Chartreuse,  therefore,  absurdities  were  veiled, 
or  criticism  awed,  by  the  venerable  genius  of  the  place ; 
while  in  the  Museum,  the  monstrous  legend  and  ex- 


176  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.' 

travagant  pinuiv,  stripped  of  ayay  illiuioD,  iire  cootly 
judged  of  on  tlieir  own  merils  as  worka  of  ekill  snd 
imaginatioii.  Still,  notwitliBtanding  tbeir  present  dis- 
ndvaDiagoi  of  position,  these  pEi'tures  vindicato  the  high 
fame  of  Carduclio,  And  Hill  Um  comparison  with  tlie 
b*Bt  history  ever  painted  of  ihc  Carthusiaa  Order." 

But  noilher  Carducho  Dor  Le  Suenr  have  equalled 
Zurbaran  ia  characteristie  expression.  I  recollect  a 
picture  ti<r  him  in  tlie  Agnada  Gallery,  which  repnaeols 
a  cnriouB  legend  of  St.  Hngo.  Hngo,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, was  blaliop  of  Grauoble  when  Brano  fonadcd 
llic  first  ChartTDUMi.  He  frequently  loft  his  InEhoprlc, 
and  resided  among  the  CanhUBiBus  as  a  hamble  hrolher 
of  ihe  Order,  devoting  himself  for  months  to  a  life  of 
austerity  and  seclusion.  On  one  aei;aBian,  whon  he 
appeared  in  the  refectory,  he  found  tlie  monks  seated 
molionlcas,  for,  although  it  woa  a  feHtlval,  tlicy  were  not 
permitted  to  cat  any  flesh  whatever,  and,  no  other  food 
being  olilainable,  (owls  had  been  served  up  before  them. 
In  this  picture  seven  CarthosianB,  looking  very  grave, 
and  some  with  their  white  cowls  draws  over  their  heads, 
as  if  resigned  to  lasting  and  despair,  are  sealed  at  table; 
the  aged  bisbop,  in  purple  vestments,  attended  by  a 
page,  stands  in  the  forEgroiuid,  and  by  the  sign  of  the 
cross  converts  the  fowls  into  (ortoiGcs.*  Of  Hugo  of 
Grenoble  it  is  rehited,  that  fbr  forty  years  he  was  troubled 
and  haunted  by  Satan  after  a  vet;  singular  fashion. 
The  demon  was  continually  whispering  lo  his  mind  in- 
trusive questionings  of  the  providence  of  God  iu  per- 


ST,  HUGH  OF  LINCOLN.  177 

mitting  evil  in  this  world.  Hugo  firmly  believed  that 
each  thoughts  could  only  come  by  diabolical  saggestion. 
He  endeavored  to  repel  them  by  fasting,  prayer,  and 
penance,  and  he  complained  bitterly  to  his  spiritual 
father,  the  pope,  that  he  should  be,  in  despite  of  his 
will,  thus  grievously  tormented.  The  pope,  Gregory 
Vll.  (the  great  and  sagacious  Hildebrand),  possibly 
smiled  to  himself  at  the  simplicity  of  the  good  bishop, 
and  assured  him  it  was  only  a  trial  of  his  virtue.  Never- 
theless, in  spite  of  pope  and  penance,  these  perplexing 
doubts  pursued  him  to  the  grave,  without,  however, 
obtaining  any  dominion  over  Us  mind  or  disturbing  his 
fiuth. 

St.  Hugo  of  Grenoble  died  in  1132. 


It  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between  this  St.  Hugh 
of  Grenoble,  and  another  St.  Hugh,  also  a  Carthusian, 
and  connected  in  an  interesting  manner  with  our  own 
ecclesiastical  history.  He  was  sent  here  in  1126,  by 
Pope  Urban  HI.,  and  consecrated  Bishop  of  Lincoln. 
To  him  we  owe  the  rebuilding  of  the  cathedral,  which 
had  been  destroyed  by  an  earthquake ;  the  greater  part 
remains  as  this  good  bishop  left  it, — one  of  the  most 
splendid  and  perfect  monuments  of  the  best  period  of 
Gothic  architecture.  The  shrine  of  the  founder,  rich 
in  gold  and  gems,  and  yet  more  precious  for  its  exquis- 
ite  workmanship,  stood  behind  the  choir.  It  was  confis- 
cated and  melted  down  at  the  Reformation.  Such 
memorials  of  St.  Hugh  as  ofiered  no  temptation  to 
Henry  VIII.  were  destroyed  by  those  modem  Vandals, 
the  Cromwellian  soldiery,  who  stabled  their  horses  in 
the  nave  of  the  cathedral ;  and  the  sole  memorial  of  this 
excellent  and  munificent  priest,  within  the  glorious  pre- 
cincts raised  by  his  piety,  is  the  stained  glass  in  the 
rose  window  of  the  south  transept.  This  contains  sev- 
eral scenes  from  his  life,  confused  and  dazzling,  from  the 
rude  outlines  and  vivid  coloring,  so  that  the  only  one 

12 


■ 


178  LEGENDS  Of  THE  MOyASTIC  ORDERS. 

I  could  make  out  dislinctlj  was  llio  translBtion  at  hia 
remaina,  nhen  the  tvo  kinga  of  Knglnnd  unci  Scot 
lanil  bore  him  on  their  ahouldiirs  w  the  porch  of  the 
CBlbedral. 

H)b  name  is  retained  ia  onr  calendar,  Kovambcr  17th. 

Dorolional  picture*  of  St.  Hugo  ore  rare.  One 
rBpresonts  him  in  the  CarthnBiim  habit,  over  ic  tho 
C[:dampa1  rubca,  the  mitre  on  his  head  and  tbo  pastoral 
BCafT  in  hie  haad.  B7  his  aide  a  Evraa,  his  proper  attri- 
bate,  which  ia  hero  the  emblem  of  solitude,  in  which  he 
delighted.  He  bos  eometiraes  lhn»  fluwcni  in  bia  hand, 
or  an  angel  who  defends  him  againaC  tho  lightning, 
emblema  mcnUooed  in  the  Gcnnaa  aathoritieB,  but  not 
explitined. 

There  was  a  tliird  8t.  Hugh,  a  Utile  St.  Hugh  of 
Lincolo,  who  was  not  indeed  a  monk,  but  his  slorj  is 
one  of  the  late  monkish  legends.  The  popular  hatred 
of  the  Jews,  in  dieelerenth  and  twelfth  cenlnrioa,  is  set 
forth,  and  not  exaggerated,  in  the  tale  of  Ivanhoe.  It 
Bhoald  seem  tliut  oar  anceatora  regarded  the  whole 
Jewish  natioQ  aa  if  the?  had  been  the  ideniical  Jews 
who  crticilied  our  Saviour;  aa  if  eveiy  indiridnal  Jew 
represented,  10  their  imaginntiuns,  the  traitor  Judas, 
To  this  fanatic  hatred  was  added,  on  the  part  oF  Ihe 
people,  envy  of  their  richea  ;  on  that  of  the  ecclesiasticit, 
jealooBf  and  fear  of  the  anperinr  intelligence  and  medi- 
cal and  aatrologiral  skill  of  some  distinguished  individu- 
als of  that  detested  race.  I  will  not  dwell  npoo  the 
fearful  excesses  of  eraeltj  and  injustice  towards  thia 
oppressed  people,  in  our  own  and  other  countries ; 
tbongh  I  Dmal  tonch  npon  the  horrible  reprlsala  im- 
puted 10  them,  and  whii-b  served  as  exi-osca  for  further 
peraecutjons.  There  are  a  uamber  of  stories  related  of 
cbitdreu,  and  crucifying  t 


tfieir  Easter  feast,  ii 


ridicule  of  the  God  a 


of  the  Christians.      Of  theoe  nsal  0 


I  Saviour 


re  eanonizal  aa  aainta  :  St.  WilHi 


THE  CiaTERCIANS.  179 

1255),  St.  Bichard  of  Fontoise  (a.  d.  1182),  and  St 
Simon  of  Trent  (a.  d.  1472). 

Chancer  has  given  the  story  of  one  of  these  little 
Christian  martyrs  in  The  Prioress's  Tale;  he  places 
the  scene  in  Asia,  bnt  concludes  with  a  reference  to 
**  yonng  Hngh  of  Lincoln,  in  like  sort  laid  low."  The 
tale,  as  modernized  by  Wordsworth,  is  in  everybody's 
hands. 

St.  Hogh  of  Lincoln  is  represented  as  a  child  about 
three  years  old,  nailed  upon  a  cross ;  or  as  standing 
with  a  palm  in  one  hand  and  a  cross  in  the  other. 
There  is  a  picture  attributed  to  Agostino  Caracci,  rep- 
resenting St.  Simon  of  Trent  as  a  beautiful  boy,  hold- 
ing a  palm  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  the  long  bod- 
kin with  which  those  wicked  Jews  pierced  his  side. 

The  effigies  of  these  little  mart3n:«,  which  used  to 
occur  frequently  in  the  churches,  kept  alive  that  hor- 
ror of  the  Jews  which  is  so  energetically  expressed  in 
The  Prioress's  Tale.  Such  atrocious  memorials  of 
religious  hatred  are  now  everywhere  banished,  or  exist 
only  in  relics  of  the  old  stained  glass. 


The  Cistebcians. 

Anotheh  and  a  far  more  important  reform  in  the 
Order  of  St.  Benedict  took  place  in  1098,  when  Robert 
de  Molesme  founded  at  Cisteaux  (or  Citeaux),  about 
twelve  leagues  to  the  north  of  Chalons-sur-Soane,  the 
first  abbey  of  the  Cistercians,  in  a  desert  spot,  described 
as  "  overgrown  with  woods  and  brambles,  wholly  un- 
frequented by  men,  and  the  habitation  of  wild  beasts." 

Of  all  the  branches  of  the  Benedictine  Order,  this 
was  the  most  popular.  It  extended,  in  a  short  time, 
over  France,  England,  and  Germany ;  produced  innu- 
merable learned  men,  popes,  cardinsJs,  and  prelates ; 


i 


^^K^t«lEGEND8  OF  THE  MONASTIC  '^S^^^^^ 

^^H       Mat  was  WavCTley,  in  Surrej  ;  and  Funiess  and  Foua-              1 
^^H       aim,  Kirkstall,  Bollon,  Tinlero,  sad  man;  otbor  ah- 

^^P       Oriler.     Id  Spun,  (be  nobte  militai?  orders  of  Cala- 
^H         tra™  and  AlcanUmi  wore  subject  rait.     In  France,  tho 

The  habit  adopted  by  llio  Cislorcians,  at  the  timo 
they  placed  thsur  Order  under  the  especial  proteMlon 

^^B        lo  her  parity ;  and,  according  to  B  legend  of  the  Order, 

^^H        to  St.  Bbbnard,  — the  great  saint  of  tho  CislereiaiiB,             ■ 

^^H       ber  of  it  who  isconspicnousasasubject  of  art.          J^^^^J 

^^H                         St.  Bbbha^d  or  CuiBTArx,               ^^^^H 

^H        Lai.  UKOa  Bnnu^aji  SoHor  ineUlfluus.    Hat.  Bui  Bnnw^^^H 

^H            B«nul.                                                                               ^^^1 

^^H           Tbe  baUt  nhllE,  a  Iddr  looee  roba  with  very  »i<lt^  hIhtci,  ■■"^^^H 
^^H        alioidor<nwl=  ho  hru  wmsIlnuM  the  raltraKivl  orosiflr  BiiMhlH*^^^^ 

^^H         Tte  attrlbqlM  are,  — «  bout,  or  B  r^ll  "t  mpe™.  Bl«ay«  lu  bli                1 
^^H          hil  r«t,  or  Dbilncd  to  B  rnc^  beblD^l  bis. 

^^1           If  I  were  called  npon  to  enter  on  the  life  and  char- 
^^m      ftcter  of  St.  Bernard,  in  relation  to  the  history  of  hia 
^^H      time  ;  to  consider  him  as  the  rcli^oug  enthusiast  aod 

^^M      an  age  which  he  seemed  to  have  iofonned  with  his  own               i 
^^M      spirit,  while  in  fact  be  nu  only  the  incarmttloii,  if  I 

ST,  BERNARD   OF   CLAIR VAUX,  i8i 

may  so  express  myself,  of  its  prejadices  and  its  ten- 
dencies, then  I  might  fairly  throw  down  the  pen,  and 
confess  myself  unequal  to  the  task ;  but,  luckily  for  me, 
the  importance  of  St.  Bernard  as  a  subject  of  art  bears 
no  proportion  to  his  importance  as  a  subject  of  history. 
It  is  not  as  the  leading  ecclesiastic  and  politician  of  his 
age,  —  it  is  not  as  the  counsellor  of  popes  and  kings, — 
it  is  not  as  the  subtle  theological  disputant,  —  it  is  not 
as  the  adversary  of  Abelard  and  Arnold  de  Brecia,  that 
he  appears  in  painting  and  sculpture.  It  is  as  the 
head  of  a  dominant  Order,  and  yet  more  as  the  teacher 
and  preacher,  that  we  see  him  figure  in  works  of 
art :  and  then  only  occasionally ;  for  he  is  far  less 
popular  than  many  saints  who  never  exercised  a  tithe 
of  his  influence,  —  whose  very  existence  is  compara- 
tively a  fiction. 

Bernard  was  bom  at  the  little  village  of  Fontaine, 
near  Dijon,  (a.  d.  1190.)  His  father  was  noble,  a  lord 
of  the  soil.  His,  mother,  Alice,  was  an  admirable 
woman  ;  all  the  biographies  of  Bernard  unite  in  giving 
her  the  credit  of  his  early  education.  He  was  one  of  a 
large  family  of  children,  all  of  whom  were  fed  from  the 
bosom  of  their  mother;  for  she  entertained  the  idea 
that  the  infant,  with  the  milk  it  drew  from  a  stranger's 
bosom,  imbibed  also  some  portion  of  the  quality  and 
temperament  of  the  nurse :  therefore,  while  her  children 
were  young,  they  had  no  attendant  but  herself.  They 
all  became  remarkable  men  and  women ;  but  the  fame 
of  the  rest  is  merged  in  that  of  Bernard,  who  appears, 
indeed,  to  have  moulded  them  all  to  his  own  bent. 

After  pursuing  his  studies  at  the  University  of  Paris, 
Bernard  entered  the  reformed  Benedictine  monastery 
of  Citeaux.  He  was  then  not  more  than  twenty,  re- 
markable for  his  personal  beauty  and  the  delicacy  of  his 
health;  but  he  had  already,  from  the  age  of  fifteen, 
practised  the  most  rigorous  self-denial :  he  had  been 
subject  to  many  temptations,  but  surmounted  them  all. 
It  is  related  that,  ou  one  occasion,  he  recollected  him' 


»i  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.  | 

wir  Bl  Ihe  moment  when  hts  ejes  hud  rested  i 
fteling  of  pIcBBare  on  the  fhco  of  a  bcantifiil  wi 
BDci,  tbocked  at  his  own  weakness,  he  rushed  i 
pool  of  walcr  more  than  lialf-froien,  nnd  fliood  Ul 
feeling  and  liie  had  nearly  departed  together. 

ne  was  aboDt  twentj-livc,  when  the  abbe;  of  Citea 
became  so  overcrowded  bj  Jomates,  that  his  abbot 
him  on  a  mission  to  fonnd  another  monastery, 
nuiner  of  going  forth  on  tlteso  occasions  was  sCrili 
elinmEtenstic  of  the  age ;  —  the  abbot  chose  t 
munts,  representing  the  twelve  apostles,  and  plac 
their  head  a  lesdar,  ropresonting  Jcsna  Christ,  i 
with  a  cross  in  his  hand,  went  before  them.  The 
gates  of  the  convent  opened,  —  then  closed  behind 
them,  —  and  the;  wandered  into  the  wide  world,  misl- 
ing  in  God  to  show  tliem  their  destined  abode. 

Bernard  led  his  followers  to  a  wilderness  called  the 
Valleg  of  WonmiVBd,  and  there,  at  his  bidding,  arose  the 
since  renowned  abbey  of  Clturvanx.  Tbey  felled  (he 
trees,  built  thcmselveg  hots,  tilled  and  sowiid  the  gronndi 
and  changed  the  whole  face  of  the  conntiy  round  ;  '™™ 
that  which  bad  been  a  dismal  solitade,  the  r 
wolves  and  robbers,  became  a  land  of  vines  ai 
rich,  popalous,  and  prosperous. 

In  a  few  jtears  the  name  of  Bernard  of  Clairvnax  hi 
become  &mous  thronghont  the  Chiistian  world.  EUs 
monastery  coald  no  longer  contain  those  who  came  to 
place  themselves  under  his  guidance.  On  every  side 
the  feudal  lords  appealed  to  him  to  decide  diffiirencFg, 
and  to  raconL'ile  enemies ;  the  ecclesixstii's,  lo  resolve 
questions  of  theology,  lie  was  the  great  authority  oa 
all  points  of  roUgioos  disetpline  ;  be  drew  up  the  stat- 
utes of  the  Templars  ;  Louis  VI.  appointed  him  arbiter 
between  the  rival  popes,  Anaclelua  and  Innwent  IL, 
and  Bemaid  deciding  iu  favor  of  the  latter,  the  whole 
Charch  received  the  fiat  wilb  perfect  submission.  He 
was  then  in  his  thirty-niotli  year.  He  was  aftcmardi 
eent  (o  reconcile  the  disputes  between  the  rlervr  ofM 
Ian  and  those  of  Bome,  luid  succeeded.     Ui 


8T.  BERNARD  OF  CLAJRVAUX.         183 

missioned  by  Eagenins  HE.  to  preach  a  second  crnsade. 
He  succeeded  here  also,  unhappily;  for  his  eloquent 
adjurations  so  inflamed  the  people,  that  those  who  re- 
ibsed  to  take  up  the  cross  were  held  in  scorn,  and  had  a 
distaff  put  into  their  hands,  in  mockery  of  their  efiemi- 
nate  cowardice.  Bernard  was  invited  to  assume  the  com- 
mand of  the  multitude  he  had  excited  to  take  up  arms ; 
bat  he  had  the  wisdom  to  decline.  He  remained  at 
home  studying  theology  in  his  cell ;  and  of  those  whom 
his  fiery  exhortations  had  impelled  to  the  wars  of  Pal- 
estine, few,  very  few,  returned.  The  people  raged 
against  Bernard  for  a  fklse  propliet ;  but  their  rage  was 
transient  as  violent.  He  defended  himself  boldly  and 
eloquently,  affirming  that  the  armies  of  the  crusaders 
were  composed  of  such  a  vile,  insubordinate,  irreligious 
crew,  that  they  did  not  deserve  to  be  protected  by  Heav- 
en. If  they  had  been  betrayed,  defeated,  destroyed ;  if 
the  flood,  the  plague,  the  sword,  had  each  had  a  part 
in  them,  it  was  in  just  punishment  of  the  vices  and 
the  crimes  of  the  age.  He  bid  them  go  home  and  re- 
pent :  —  and  they  did  so. 

Worn  out  by  fatigues,  missions,  and  anxieties,  by  long 
and  frequent  journeys,  by  the  most  rigorous  fasts  and 
penances,  the  health  of  this  accomplished  and  zealous 
monk  gave  way  prematurely ;  and,  retiring  to  his  cell, 
he  languished  for  a  few  years,  and  then  died,  in  the 
sixty-third  year  of  his  age.  Twenty  years  after  his 
death  he  was  canonized  by  Alexander  III. 

The  virtues  and  the  talents  of  Bernard  lent  a  dread- 
ful power  to  his  misguided  zeal,  and  a  terrible  vitality 
to  his  errors.  But  no  one  has  ever  reproached  him 
with  insincerity.  In  no  respect  did  he  step  beyond  his 
age ;  but  he  was,  as  I  have  already  said,  the  imperson- 
ation of  the  intellect  of  tliat  age ;  and,  in  a  period  of 
barbarism  and  ignorance,  he  attracts  us,  and  stands  out, 
in  the  blood-soiled  page  of  history,  like  a  luminous  spot 
surrounded  with  shadow.  Of  his  controversy  with  Abe- 
lard  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak.  Had  the  life  of  Abe- 
lard  been  as  pure  from  moral  stain  as  that  of  Bernard, 


IS4  LEGENDS  OF  THF.  310\AST/C  ORDERS. 
d  a  belter  cbonce  agaiuet  h 


I 


light  possibly  have 

t  advcrsBTj. 

The  wrilings  of  St,  Bemnrd  are  of  such  autborit 
that  be  nuikg  «s  one  or  the  fstben  of  tbe  Cathol 
Cburrb.  It  was  said  of  him  (and  believed)  that 
he  wm  nritiag  bis  famouB  UorailieH  on  "  The  Song 
which  IB  Solomon's,"  the  hoi;  Virgin  hers 
condeecended  U  appear  lo  h[tn,  and  moiBtcncd  bis  lipij 
with  the  milk  from  hor  bosom  ;  so  that  over  aliemards 
bis  eloquence,  whether  in  speaking  or  in  writing,  wtu 
persuasive,  irresistible,  sapcmBtoral. 

In  devocionBl  pictures,  a  monk  in  ibe  vhlie  habit  of 
the  Cistercian  Order,  with  a  ahaven  rrowu,  little  or  no 
beard,  i^orrying  a  \ai^  book  under  his  arm,  or  with 
writing  implements  before  him,  or  praseiiting  books  to 
tbe  Madonna,  may  be  generally  assumed  to  represent 
St.  Bernard.  His  pdctiliar  nUribiiles,  however,  are : 
1 .  The  demon  fettered  behind  him  ;  the  demon  having 
tbe  Satanic,  and  not  the  dragon,  form,  is  inlerpremd  to 
aignilj  heresy.  2.  OcCBEioaall;  three  mitres  on  bis 
book  or  at  bis  feet,  as  in  a  pictare  by  Garofalo,  stgni^ 
tbe  three  bishoprics  he  refused,  —  ihiwo  of  Milan,  Cbar- 
tres,  and  Spires.  3.  He  bus  also  the  bee-hive  as  sym- 
bol of  eloqncncQ,  in  commoD  with  Chrysoatom  and  Au- 
gustine i  but  here  it  ollndes  also  10  bis  title  of  Daetar 
iH^iftyim.  4.  The  mitre  atld  crosier,  as  abbot  of  CI 
vanx,  are  also  given  to  him,  —  but  rarely. 

In  old  German  art  he  may  he  found 
with  the  hiaek  mantle  over  the  while  ttin 

Ho  is  often  grouped  with  otlior  Benedictine  saints, 
St.  Benedict  or  St,  Somnaldo,  —  or  hu  is  embrvcing 
the  instrumcnls  of  the  Fassion,  a  subject  ficquently  met 
with  m  the  old  French  prints. 

The  subject  called  "  the  Vision  of  St  Bernard  "  must 
lie  considered  as  mystical  and  dcvoliOQal,  not  historical, 
St.  Bernard,  as  we  have  seen,  was  remarkable  for  his 
devotion  to  iho  Blessed  Virgin:  one  of  bis  most  cale- 
braled  works,  the  Missus  est,  wa 
ns  Mother  of  tlie  Relecmer ;  ai 


itboW^^H 

lerseff^^^^ 


1  Au- 


'% 


8T,  BERNARD   OF   CLAIRVAUX,  185 

texts  from  the  Song  of  Solomon,  he  set  forth  her  divine 
perfection  as  the  Selected  and  Espoused,  the  type  of 
the  Church  on  earth.  Accordingly,  the  Blessed  Virgin 
regarded  her  votary  with  pecaiiar  favor.  His  health 
was  extremely  feeble  ;  and  once,  when  he  was  employed 
in  writing  his  homilies,  and  was  so  ill  that  he  coald 
scarcely  hold  the  pen,  she  graciously  appeared  to  him, 
and  comforted  and  restored  him  by  her  divine  presence. 
Of  this  graceful  subject,  there  are  some  charming  ex- 
amples :  — 

1.  He  is  kneeling  before  a  desk,  the  pen  in  his  hand ; 
the  Virgin  above,  a  graceful  veiled  figure,  comes  float- 
ing in,  sustained  by  two  angels;  as  in  a  picture  by 
Giottino. 

2.  St.  Bernard  is  writing  in  a  rocky  desert,  seated  at 
a  rude  desk  formed  of  the  stump  of  a  tree.  (Fl.  Chiesa 
de  la  Badia.)  The  Virgin  stands  before  him,  attended 
by  angels,  one  of  whom  holds  up  her  robe.  On  the 
rock  behind  him  is  inscribed  his  famous  motto,  —  Sus- 
tine  et  ab^ine  (Bear  and  forbear).  The  figure  of 
the  Virgin  is  singularly  noble  and  graceful ;  the 
angels,  as  is  usual  with  Filippino,  are  merely  hand- 
some boys. 

3.  He  is  seated  writing,  and  looking  round  to  the 
Virgin,  who  enters  on  the  opposite  side  attended  by  two 
angels.  (Munich  Gal.  Perugino.)  Behind  St.  Ber- 
nard stand  St.  Philip  and  St.  Bartholomew.  A  beau- 
tiful version  of  the  subject. 

4.  He  is  sustained  amid  clouds,  the  pen  in  his  hand, 
looking  up  at  the  Madonna  and  infant  Saviour,  who  are 
surrounded  by  a  choir  of  red  seraphim :  Mary  Magda- 
len stands  near.  This  visionary  representation  is  ex- 
tremely characteristic  of  the  painter,  —  original,  fantas- 
tic, but  also  elegant.     (Louvre.) 

I  have  seen  several  other  instances,  by  Fra  Bartolo- 
meo  ;  by  Murillo  ;  and  one  by  Benozzo  Gozzole  in  the 
collection  of  M.  Joly  de  Bamville,  in  which  the  figures 
are  half-length.  The  leading  idea  is  in  all  the  same, 
and  easily  recognized. 


I 


lib  LEtlENDB  OF  THE  MONASTIC  VRDEHS.   ^ 

6.  The  Yir)^n  mariebce  St.  Berunrd  with  milk  (rom 
her  bowm.  (The  fineat  exMnple  byMiirillo.)  TWb 
BobjecE  iKMan  ouXy  iu  the  Inlei  ct^hooU  of  art,  anc' 
be  uiken  in  a  myatical  and  roligioaa  eenac.  It  i 
emi  and  disagreeahlc  version  of  a  flguro  of  spMrb 
palpable  for  represeulatioD.  Yet  geni 
these  objectioiu,  and  MuriUo'e  gnmt  picttuo  Is  cited 
a  reiDorkabte  example  of  his  skill  in  treating  «i(h 
nitj  and  propriotj  a  subject  wbich  in  manj  bai 
might  bavo  suggeBted  opposite  ideas, 
bot  of  Clairvaax,  aeaiad  amongst  his  books,  and 
jars  of  lilies  on  the  talile,  as  ao  etablem  of  his  derc 
to  Oar  Lolly,  is  »urpriBi>d  by  a  visit  i 
pcmona^.  As  the  white-robed  eaint  kneels  before 
iu  prulband  adoradon,  she  haics  her  beantilii] 
and  causes  a  stream  of  milk  to  faX\  from  llienee  nj 
the  lips  of  her  votary,  wbich  were  livm  that 
endowed  with  a  sweet  persuasive  eloquence  that 
riial  could  gainsay,  no  audience  resist.  Above 
around  the  heavenly  stranger  cheraba  disport  Ui( 
selves  in  a  Qood  of  glory ;  and  on  the  ground  lie 
abbot's  crosiBr  and  some  folios  bound  in  pliant  parch- 
ment, like  those  which  once  tilled  the  conventual  tJbia- 
rios  of  Spain,  and  wbich  Murillo  has 
dured  into  his  picenres.  The  chaste  and  majestic 
of  the  Viipn  almost  TCdeems  iho  subject."* 

I  believe  it  is  well  known  thnt  ibo  fine  stunod 
\a  the  choir  of  Liclilield  Cathedral  was  brought 
Cisteroiao  nunnery  near  Lieg«  (llio  Abbey  of  Hercken- 
rode,  mined  and  dfisecnued  in  the  French  ravolutionai  y 
wars).  On  one  of  these  windows,  the  third  on  tbenonli 
side  of  the  chou-,  we  And  this  mystical  legend  very  Ucnu- 
tifully  expressed.  St,  Bernard  kneels  at  the  feet  of  iLu 
"Virgin,  looking  np  with  passionate  devotion  ;  she  pre- 
pares to  hare  her  bosom.  Behind  him  stands  his  sister, 
■      ■■        - I  bo. 


from^^^^l 
ercken- | 


the  abbess  St.  Humbeliae.    The  worlimiujshtp  duii 
tween  1530  and  1640,  when  the  nnns  rebuilt  Iheir  a 


BT,  BERNARD  OF  CLAIR VAUX.         187 

Tent,  and  employed  the  best  artists  of  the  Low  Coun- 
tries to  decorate  it.  The  designs  for  these  windows  I 
should  refer  to  Lambert  Lombard,  the  first,  and  by  far 
the  best,  of  the  Italianized  Flemish  school  of  the  six' 
teenth  centory. 

The  historical  snbjects  from  the  life  of  St.  Bernard 
are  very  few. 

He  was  in  the  habit  of  lectoring  his  monks  every 
morning  from  some  passage  in  Scripture.  (Bartsch, 
xiii.  11.)  This  scene  is  represented  in  a  rare  old  en- 
graving by  Benedetto  Montagna. 

At  Berlin  there  are  two  little  pictures  from  the  early 
life  of  St.  Bernard.  (Masaccio.)  1.  As  a  child,  his 
mother  consecrates  him  to  the  service  of  the  Church  ; 
2.  His  habit  having  fsillen  into  the  fire,  he  takes  it  un- 
injured from  the  flames.  And  in  the  same  gallery  is  a 
curious  picture  representing  St.  Bernard  holding  his 
crosier  and  book ;  and  around  this  central  figure  six 
small  subjects  from  his  life. 

Some  other  incidents  in  the  life  of  St.  Bernard 
would  be  admirable  for  art.  As,  for  instance,  the  build- 
ing of  his  monastery,  where  he  and  his  white  monks, 
scattered  in  the  wilderness,  are  felling  the  trees,  while 
others  are  praying  for  Divine  strength  and  aid  ;  or  the 
preaching  of  the  Crusade  in  various  countries  and 
among  various  conditions  of  men  :  but  I  have  not  met 
with  either  of  these  subjects. 

It  is  related  that,  when  he  was  abbot  of  Clairvaux, 
his  sister  Humbeline,  who  had  married  a  nobleman, 
came  to  pay  him  a  visit  borne  in  a  litter,  and  attended 
by  a  numerous  retinue  of  servants  :  he,  scandalized  by 
BO  much  pride  and  pomp,  refused  to  see  her.  She  then 
desired  to  see  another  brother,  who  was  also  in  the 
convent,  who  in  like  manner  rejected  her.  She  burst 
into  tears,  and  entreating  on  her  knees  that  her  saintly 
brother  would  instruct  her  what  she  ought  to  do,  he 
condescended  to  appear  at  the  gate,  desired  her  to  go 
home,  and  imitate  her  mother.     Humbeline  afterwards 


I 

I 


lit  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.   ' 

berame  a,  model  of  humiliEj  ftnd  pietj,  and  enilcil  hn* 
life  in  seclnaion.  This  confrrenre  between  the  broiLer 
ami  the  sister  would  Ito  a  fine  snlijo't  for  a  paitiler. 

Id  tbe  BoiBsQi^  CoDectioa  there  ib  a  very  corioiu 
pieture  enticlcd  "  St.  Bernard  in  tlie  CntllEdral  of 
Spires,"  (Dor  Hcilige  Bemliard  im  Dom  zu  Speir,} 
which  for  a  long  time  embarraEsed  me  eKccedingl;,  bb 
I  daro  Bay  it  has  others.  At  length  I  found  the  legeod. 
It  19  related,  that  when  St.  Bomard  wai  preaching  the 
Crnaade  in  Germntij,  he  eotercd  the  Cathedral  of 
Spirui,  ao^omjjiuiied  \iy  the  Einiitror  Conrad,  and  a 
splendid  rctinno  of  proUtea  and  notiies.  There,  in 
preeenee  of  all,  he  knelt  down  throe  timci  as  he  ap- 
proached the  altar,  lOfitiog  (he  famous  hytnn  to  the 
Viigin.  The  first  tirtie,  he  exclaimed  "  0  Claueial" 
tlie  seeond,  '■  O  Pia  1 "  tlio  third  time,  "  0  dulas  Virga 
Maria  1 "  In  memorj  of  tlie  saint  and  of  this  incidoul 
these  words  were  inBL'ribcd  on  the  pavement  where  he 
had  knelt,  and  the  SAf  llfgina  was  sung  every  day  in 
the  choir.  Those  memoriaJs  wcro  prcservod,  and  this 
custom  retained,  till  the  ma|;Dillc«iit  Cathedral  of 
Spirra,  alnjost  cqnol  to  that  of  Straabourg,  wsa  dcao- 
crated  and  tam<?d  into  a  military  station  in  the  bofpn- 
niog  of' the  French  RovotnliQn.  The  picture  I  have 
allnded  to  represonts  in  the  rentre,  St.  Bernard  kneel- 
ing in  the  black  hahlC,  which  is  ycry  unusual ;  and 
rather  fat  and  clainsy,  which  is  not  rtiaraiterislic,  for 
he  was  of  a  fair  complexion,  and  spare  and  delieate 
temperament.  The  three  inscriplions  are  visible  on 
the  pavement.  The  Emperor  Conrad  stands  on  the 
right,  with  his  courtiers  and  warriors ;  on  the  tefl,  a 
bishop  and  an  alibot  with  attendants,  Tlio  piclnre  is 
gorgeous  in  color,  and  very  cnriuus  as  an  historical 

Dante,  whose  |;reat  poem  is  a  rcflcrtion  of  Ehfrl 
liiriong  footings  prevalent  in  his  time,  has  given  B 
Bernard  a  most  distini^aished  place  io  the  "  ParadiH 
(c.  s:!si.).  The  poet,  looking  round,  finds  that 
uii-e  h^  left  liis  side,  and  tiiat  her  plaLO  is  (lUed  1 


CONGREGATION  OF  MONTE  OLIVET 0,  189 

that  "  teacher  revered,"  St.  Bernard,  apon  whom,  wiith 
great  propriety,  devolves  the  task  of  presenting  him  to 
the  Virgin,  who,  in  turn,  is  to  present  him  to  her  divine 
Son.  St.  Bernard  then  breaks  forth  into  that  sublime 
address  to  the  Virgin-mother,  wliich  Petrarch  has  imi- 
tated, and  Chaucer  has  translated.  This  leading  idea, 
this  rapport  between  the  Virgin  and  St.  Bernard,  must 
be  borne  in  mind,  for  it  is  constantly  reproduced  in  the 
pictures  painted  for  the  Cistercian  Order ;  and  I  shall 
have  much  to  say  on  this  subject  in  the  "  Legends  of 
the  Madonna." 

In  pictures  executed  for  the  French,  Flemish,  and 
German  churches,  St.  Bernard  is  often  found  in  com- 
panionship with  his  friend  and  contemporary  St.  Nor- 
bert,  bishop  of  Magdeburg,  founder  of  tiie  Premonstra- 
tensians  ;  for  whom  the  reader  will  turn  to  the  Augus- 
tins,  farther  on. 


The  Congregation  op  Monte  Oliveto. 

We  must  bear  in  mind  that  there  are  three  St.  Ber- 
nards represented  in  art: — the  great  abbot  of  Clair- 
vaux,  whose  history  has  just  been  given  ;  St.  Bernard 
degli  Uberti,  abbot  of  Vallombrosa,  and  Cardinal, 
already  mentioned;  and  a  third  St.  Bernard,  distin- 
guished as  San  Bernardo  dei  Tolomei,  wlio  is  more 
properly  the  Beato  Bernardo t  for  I  do  not  find  that  he 
has  been  regularly  canonized  :  he  was  born  in  1272,  of 
an  illustrious  family  of  Siena,  and  for  some  years  was 
distinguished  as  a  learned  professor  of  law  in  his  native 
city  ;  but  the  dominant  passion  of  the  age  reached  him, 
and  he  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life  wlicn,  seized  with 
religious  compunction,  he  withdrew  from  the  world  to 
a  mountain,  about  ten  miles  from  Siena,  called  the 
Monte  Uliveto,  or  Mount  of  Olives.  Others  joined 
him ;  they  erected  cells  and  an  oratory  in  the  usual 
maimer  \  and  thus  was  founded  the  "  Olivetani,"  or 


I 


,  LEGENDS  OF  THE  ilONASTlC  ORDERS. 


"  Congregation  of  Cha  Blessed  Virgin  of  Monle  Olive- 
to,"  (Monad  Bianchi  di  Monic  Uliveio.)  Bernardo 
new  Order  nncler  tlio  niie  of  St.  Benedict, 
s&d  gave  them  the  white  habit.  The  Order  -kss  cod- 
finned  by  Pope  John  XSIL  in  1319.  The  principal 
saints  represented  in  the  churehea  and  iDonafiterics  of 
the  Olivetani  are  St.  Benedict,  m  patriarch,  and  St. 
Bernard  of  Cloirvanx,  the  patron  laint  of  their  fbander. 
Only  in  late  pictures  do  we  find  tho  fbnnder  himself, 
gcnerailj  in  the  whilu  Benedictine  habit,  with  a  branch 
of  oUve  in  ills  hnnd,  in  allueion  to  the  name  of  hii 
Order.  la  a  picture  b;  Saivi&ti  (Bolo);na,S,  Cristina) 
he  kneels  before  the  Madoona,  and  at  Ijia  (bet  is  a  small 
model  of  B  hill,  with  an  ohve-tree,  and  a  cell,  at  the 
Bommit.  Id  a  piemro  hj  Pamfilo  ho  recEives  fiom  the 
Blesadd  Virgin  branches  of  Olive.  (Cremona.  Churuh 
of  S.  Loreozo.) 

The  aaint  who  flgnrea  in  the  Olivctan  fonndaCions  bb 
the  hoBst  of  their  Order  is  St.  Francesca  Rooiana,  as 
her  name  implies,  a  Boman  saint.  {March  9.  1440.) 
Effigies  of  her  abonnd  in  Rome ;  we  even  meet  mlh 
them  OD  the  outer  walls  of  tho  houses.  Her  luaTont, 
in  the  Torre  de'  Spechi,  is  {or  was)  the  hcsc  seminary 
in  Rome  for  young  women  of  tho  higher  clasBes. 
Many  who  have  visited  Rome  of  laie  yetus  will  ra- 
member  the  splendor  and  inteiEBt  of  her  S^Btiyal,  when 
the  doors  of  tiiis  school  are  thrown  open  to  all  visitora. 

She  waa  bom  in  1 384;  the  daughter  of  Paolo  di 
Boss!  and  his  wife  Jacobella.  She  was  Eiaptized  in  the 
church  of  Sane'  Agnese,  in  the  Piazza  Navona,  and, 
from  her  childhood,  displayed  the  most  pions  disposi- 
tions. Her  parents  married  her,  against  her  Inclination, 
to  Lorenzo  Pooziano,  who  was  rich  and  nohle  ;  but  she 
carried  into  her  married  lite  the  same  spiritual  rirtnea 
which  had  diatinguiahed  her  in  early  youth.  Every 
day  she  reeiled  the  Oflice  of  the  Yirgiu  from  lieglnning 
to  end.  She  was  particularly  remarkable  for  her  charity 
and  humility.  Instead  of  entering  into  the  pleasures 
m  whkh  her  hirCh  and  richea  entitled  her,  she  every 


8T.  FRANCESCA  ROMANA,  191 

daj  went^  disgaised  in  a  coarse  woollen  garment,  to  her 
yineyard,  outside  the  gate  of  San  Paolo,  and  collected 
fiigots  which  she  brought  into  the  city  on  her  head, 
and  distributed  to  the  poor.  If  the  weight  exceeded 
her  womanly  strength,  she  loaded  therewith  an  ass, 
following  after  on  foot  in  great  humility. 

In  the  lifetime  of  her  husband,  with  whom  she  lived 
in  the  most  blessed  union,  she  had  already  collected  a 
congregation  of  pious  women,  whom  she  placed  under 
the  rule  of  St.  Benedict ;  but  they  pronounced  no  irrev- 
ocable vows,  and  were  merely  dedicated  to  works  of 
charity,  and  the  education  of  the  young.  After  her 
-hosband's  death  (a.  d.  1425)  she  joined  these  sisters, 
and  became  their  Superior.  In  recompense  of  her 
piety,  she  was  favored  with  ecstatic  visions,  and  per- 
formed surprising  miracles.  It  is  related,  that  on  a 
certain  day  the  provision  of  bread  was  found  to  be  re- 
duced to  a  few  small  pieces,  hardly  enough  for  two 
persons  (the  number  to  be  fed  was  fifteen) ;  this  being 
told  to  the  saint,  she  merely  replied,  "  The  Lord  will 
provide  for  us."  Then,  calling  for  the  bread,  she  laid 
it  on  the  table,  and,  having  blessed  it,  there  was  found 
to  be  abundance  for  all.  On  another  occasion,  as  she 
was  reciting  the  Office  of  the  Virgin  in  her  vineyard, 
there  came  on  a  storm  of  rain,  by  which  the  sisters 
were  wet  to  the  skin,  while  she  remained  perfectly  dry. 
Further,  it  is  related  that,  like  St.  Cecilia,  she  was 
everywhere  attended  by  an  angel  visible  to  herself  alone. 

After  many  years  passed  in  a  life  of  sanctity,  re- 
garded with  enthusiastic  reverence  and  affection,  not 
only  by  the  Romans,  but  in  all  the  neighboring  states, 
bhe  died  in  the  house  of  her  son  Baptista  Fonzani,  who 
lived  at  that  time  near  the  church  of  St.  Cecilia  in 
Trastevere.  She  had  gone  to  comfort  him  with  mater- 
nal solicitude  in  some  visitation  of  sorrow  or  sickness, 
but  was  seized  with  fever,  and  expired  in  the  arms  of 
her  sisterhood,  who  had  assembled  round  her  bed, 
while  the  bereaved  poor  prayed  and  wept  at  her  door. 

She  was  canonized  by  Paul  V.  in  1608.     AU  pic- 


191  LEGEXDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

tores  of  her  date  of  coarse  aflcr  thst  ti 

Carmrci  were  then  at  the  hoighi  of  their  colcbriij,  the 

beat  pictures  of  her  are  from  their  «' 

The  chnreh  now  dedieatcd  lo  St.  FrHaceaea  Romsaa 
ynt  formerly  that  of  S.  Haria  Noava,  roadered  cele- 
brated ae  the  Bcene  of  her  prayers,  vigils,  and  ccBialie 
traocca.  It  is  aituated  in  a  lo<^lit7  of  m^eatir  interest, 
near  the  cxtromily  of  the  IToniin,  between  the  grand 
remains  of  the  Busilira  of  CooEtantine  and  the  rains  of 
the  temple  of  Vonas  and  Rome  (on  part  of  the  site  of 
which  it  stands),  and  close  lo  the  Aroh  of  Titua.  She 
IB  represented  in  the  dress  of  a  Benedictiue  nun,  e,  black 
robe  and  a  white  hood  or  veil ;  and  her  proper  attribnt* 
\a  an  angel,  who  holds  in  his  hand  the  boot  of  the  Of- 
fice of  the  Virgin,  open  at  the  words,  "  Teniiiali  tntuHm 
dextenim  mtam,  et  in  wtunlate  liux  deduriMi  me,  et  ana 
gloria  svtcepiMi  me"  (PsalniB  Ixiiii.  23,  24);  which 
attribate  \a  derived  from  an  incident  thus  related  in  the 
acts  of  her  canonization.  Though  unwearied  in  her 
devotions,  jet  if,  during  her  praycn,  she  was  called 
away  bj  her  basband  or  any  dotnestio  duty,  she  weald 
dose  her  book,  saying  that  "  a  wife  and  a  mother,  when 
called  upon,  mnst  qait  her  God  at  tiio  altar,  and  find 
him  in  her  honsehold  ailiiira."  "Now  it  happened 
once,  that,  in  reciting  the  OlSee  of  Our  Lady,  site  was 
called  away  four  times  jnsl  as  she  was  beginning  the 
same  verae,  and,  returciog  the  RfUi  time,  she  found  that 
verae  writteu  upon  the  page  ia  letters  of  golden  light 
by  the  hand  of  her  guardian  angel."  This  cluu-tning 
and  edHying  legend  ia  iniradaced  id  most  of  the  pic- 
tures of  St.  Franceaca;  occasionally,  however,  she  is 
kneeling  before  a  piK,  while,  from  the  conaccrated  wafer 
within  it,  rays  proceed  end  fall  upon  her  breast,  in  alla- 
sioD  to  the  name  of  her  Order,  the  ■'  Obiatc." 

There  is  a  flno  picture  by  Gnercino  (Turin  Gal.),  of 
St.  Francesca  Romaua  seated,  holdiug  the  hook  of  the 
Office  of  the  Vii^n,  a  l^aaket  of  bread  beside  her,  while 
a  young  angel,  clothed  in  the  atbe  worn  by  boys  who 
serve  st  the  altar,   his  Imnds  crossed  on  his   bosom, 


8T.  CHARLES  BORROMEO. 


193 


Btands  reyerentially  before  her.  This  pictare  was  paint- 
ed for  Emanuel  IE.  of  Savoy,  aboat  1656. 

"  The  Vision  of  St.  Francesca,"  painted  by  Nicolb 
Poossin,  represents  her  kneeling  in  supplication.  The 
Virgin  appears  to  her  from  above,  holding  in  her  ex- 
tended hieuids  a  number  of  broken  or  blunted  arrows ; 
figures  of  the  dead  and  dying  lie  on  the  ground.  This 
alludes  to  the  supposed  cessation  of  an  epidemic  disease 
in  Rome  through  the  prayers  of  the  saint. 

"  St.  Francesca  restores  a  dead  child,  and  gives  him 
back  to  his  mother/'  is  the  subject  of  a  picture  by  Tia- 
rini,  remarkable  for  true  and  dramatic  expression. 

The  marble  bas-relief  by  Bernini  in  the  crypt  of  her 
church  at  Rome,  in  which  she  is  seated  with  her  book 
and  her  angel,  is,  for  him,  unusually  grand  and  simple. 

Pictures  of  St.  Francesca  are  to  be  found  in  the  con- 
vents of  the  CJongregation  of  Monte  Oliveto. 

St.  Carlo  Borromeo  is  represented  sometimes  in 
companionship  with  St.  Francesca ;  they  stand  as  pen- 
dants  to  each  other,  or  kneel  together  before  the  same 
altar.  Where  they  are  thus  placed  in  connection,  it  is 
because  the  one  founded  the  sisterhood  of  the  Oblate 
at  Rome,  the  other  introduced  the  brotherhood  of  the 
OUati  into  Milan,  and  became  the  Superior  of  the  insti- 
tution, for  which  reason  I  place  him  here. 


St.  Charles  Bobbombo. 

IteU,  San  Carlo.    Cardinal  and  Archbishop  of  Milan.    Nov.  4, 

1684. 

This  admirable  saint,  **  whom  Jews  might  bless,  and 
Protestants  adore,"  lived  at  a  period  when  Christian  art 
had  widely  departed  from  its  primitive  simplicity ;  and 
there  is  something  in  the  grand,  mannered,  ostentatious 
style  of  the  pictures  and  sculptures  which  commemorate 
him,  quite  at  variance  with  the  gentle  yet  severe  moral- 
ity, the  profoundly  spiritual  temper,  the  meek  and  reso- 

«3 


194  LEGENDS  OF  THE  U0NA3TIC  ORDEBl 

lute   character,  of  the  man  to  whose   inflncnce  ■ 
eiampln  Ranko"  impntne,  in  great  part,  iho  r 
■mung  the  prelates  of  Italy  and  tha  resl 
Mcleaiastical  cUscipliDo  io  the  abnoenth  uenturj ;  ti 
preMrvBiiou,  in  &ct,  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  wheaS 
teemed  hasiening  to  a  vmh  dcstniEtioii,     A  pictore  ■VT 
St.  Charles,  by  such  a  painter  as  Aogelico,  might  h 
tendered  with  chBracieriscic  trath  this  lowly,  betteficci 
and  serene  spirit,  npou  nhom  the  ample  draperies,  i 
rich  artistic  acressoriaa  of  the  Caracc?i  school  » 
hang  like  a  disgime.     But,  however  represented,  i 
actions  and  eiligicB  of  St.  Charles  Borromeo  must 
ways  interest  the  religions  and  the  philosophic  mind. 
His  was  a  phase  of  chatxctei  so  genuine  and  so  pecn- 
tiar,  thai  bafure  the  ^1'orst  picture  of  him  wo  ore  inclined 
to  pause,  heort-slmck,  and  bow  in  reverence. 

He  was  bora  in  IS37,  of  one  of  the  oldest,  noblest, 
and  wealthiest  families  of  I^nibardy.  He  was  the 
second  son  of  bis  btlier,  Connt  Boiromeo ;  and,  like 
all  tlia  younger  brothers  of  his  rai-e,  from  generalion 
to  generation,  he  whs  from  infancy  dedii»ted  to  the 
Church.  Id  this  case,  his  destiny  happily  coincided 
with  the  UBtural  vocation.  At  twelve  years  old,  Ire  had 
a  grant  of  the  revonuGS  of  a  rich  Benedictine  monastery, 
and  he  then  requested  that  only  mich  Bums  should  be  em- 
ploycd  for  his  mainUlDanco  and  education  as  were  abso- 
lutely necessary,  and  the  rest  devoted  lo  works  of  pioly 
and  cliaritf .  Even  io  his  boyish  years,  the  gravity  and 
sanctity  of  his  demeanor  edified  ail  his  family.  Uis 
father  died  before  he  was  twenty,  and  his  uuclo  Pope 
Pius  IV.  created  him  cardjoal  and  archbishop  of  Milan 
at  the  age  of  twenty-three .t  He  lived  id  the  Court  of 
Bome  ai  his  ancle's  chief  connseUor  and  bvorile,  not 


8T,  CHARLES  BORROMEO,  195 

only  withoat  reproach,  but  an  object  of  reverential  won- 
der for  the  singalar  combination  of  youthfal  modesty 
and  candor  with  the  wisdom  and  the  self-government 
of  matorer  years.  He  was  a  good  deal  under  the  do- 
minion of  the  Jesuits  at  this  time,  who  seem  to  have 
inspired  him  with  prudence,  without  either  corrupting 
his  native  sincerity  or  weakening  his  fervid  charity.  On 
the  death  of  his  elder  brother,  Count  Frederigo,  he  suc- 
ceeded to  the  hereditary  honors  of  his  family,  and  left 
Rome  to  take  possession  at  once  of  his  heritage  and 
his  diocese ;  he  was  then  in  his  twenty-sixth  year.  His 
fame  had  gone  before  him,  and  the  people  of  Milan 
received  him  as  a  second  St.  Ambrose.  Not  so  the 
ecclesiastics ;  they  dreaded  the  arrival  of  a  young  apos- 
tle whose  whole  life  was  in  singular  contrast  with  their 
own;  who  came  among  them  armed  with  bulls  and 
edicts  for  the  reformation  of  abuses  and  the  restoration 
of  the  Church  revenues  to  their  proper  channels,  —  the 
maintenance  of  an  active  and  efficient  clergy  and  the 
relief  of  the  poor.  Having  assembled  a  convocation  for 
these  purposes,  and  distributed  in  charity  the  immense 
personal  property  he  had  inherited,  he  was  suddenly 
called  back  to  Rome,  to  attend  his  uncle  on  his  death- 
bed (a.  d.  1566) ;  in  this  sacred  duty  he  was  assisted 
by  St.  Philip  Neri.  His  subsequent  influence  in  the 
conclave  procured  the  election  of  Pius  V.,  who  en- 
deavored to  detain  the  young  archbishop  at  Rome ;  but 
in  vain.  St  Charles  felt  that  his  duty  called  him  to 
the  government  of  his  diocese ;  and  from  this  time  his 
life  presents  a  picture  of  active  charity,  of  self-denying 
humility,  only  to  be  equalled  by  the  accounts  we  have 
of  the  primitive  apostles  and  teachers  of  Christianity. 
All  his  own  private  revenues,  as  well  as  those  of  his 
diocese,  were  expended  in  public  uses :  he  kept  nothing 
for  himself,  but  what  sufficed  to  purchase  bread  and 
water  for  his  diet,  and  straw  for  his  bed.  He  travelled 
through  every  district  and  village,  examining  into  the 
state  of  the  people  and  the  conduct  of  the  priesthood, 
eonversing  with  and  catechizing  the  poor.     Up  among 


I9fi  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OBDEBS. 

the  monntnina,  into  Ihe  BtKluded  valleja  of  the  Italian 
Alpa,  where  the  Deglcclei)  inbabitanU  had  long  mmained 
in  a  anto  of  phj Bii»l  and  spiritual  deedtutioii,  did  this 
good  man  penetrate;  he  Bent  miB^onarieB  smoDg  them 
ID  teach  and  to  preach,  and  then  went  himself  to  sea 
that  thej  performed  their  duty :  on  one  occaGion  he  wax 
found  in  h  poor  mountain-hut,  Ij'ing  on  «omc  straw, 
shivering  with  ague,  which  bad  eeijed  him  in  one  of  bis 
excureiona  do  foot.  With  all  liia  exceaeii'e  ansteriij, 
his  faals,  >nd  his  penincea,  he  lived  in  pulilic  with  the 
Bplptidor  becoming  hia  rank,  atid  exercised  the  most 
muaiScent  hoapttalit?,  wearing  under  big  cardinal's 
robes  of  scarlet  and  fur  a  ncged  hlnck  gown ;  and, 
where  Ibo  fenat  was  apread  for  otherg,  contenting  him- 
self with  a  little  dry  ijread  and  a  g]aei  of  water.  His 
buildings  and  fonndatiDnB,  his  seminariea,  his  coljcges, 
hia  hospitals,  were  all  an  a  magnificenl  scale  according 
to  the  taste  of  the  titns ;  liis  charities  boundless. 

But  hia  detertnination  to  restore  the  discipline  of  (he 
Church,  and  his  strtctness  with  regard  to  the  moral  con- 
dactof  the  people  committed  to  his  charge,  raised  ahoat 
of  enemies.  The  slothful,  ignorant  clergf,  the  profli- 
gate nobles,  nnilcd  against  liim  ;  bat,  infleKiblj  firm  as 
he  was  gentle  of  spirit,  he  overcame  ell  oppoaition.  His 
moat  determined  adveiBaries  were  the  TJmiliali  and  the 
FranciBcan  friars,  whom  he  required  to  live  according 
to  the  rule  of  thdr  Order.  The  former  community 
hired  one  of  their  own  brotherhood,  a  mieErable,  pei- 
Yerted  wretch,  to  assassinate  him  :  titis  is  one  of  the 
great  evcma  of  his  life,  and  one  often  represented.  It 
wai  in  November,  and  by  the  light  of  tapers,  that  the 
good  prelate  was  celebratiag  the  evening  service  in  his 
chapel ;  he  was  kneeling  at  the  alliir.  and  tbey  were 
singing  the  anthem,  Non  turh^iir  cor  maim  neqae  Jisiai- 
rfef,  when  the  assassin,  Fra  Farina,  concealed  behind  a 
door,  Sred  at  him  ;  the  bnllet  stmck  liim  on  the  back, 
but  was  turned  aside  by  the  ricli  metallic  embroider;  Ol 
his  cope.  At  the  report  offiro-arnis  the  music  ceased 
every  one  rose  in  conslamatian.     St.  Cliarles,  who  b 


8T.  CHARLES  BORROMEO.  197 

lieved  himself  mortally  wounded,  made  them  a  sign  to 
kneel  down  again,  and,  without  stirring  from  the  spot, 
or  a  change  in  his  countenance,  finished  his  prayer.  It 
was  found  that  the  ball  had  bruised  him,  and  several 
small  shot  had  penetrated  his  clothes,  but  he  was  other- 
wise unhurt.  The  people  in  their  enthusiastic  venera- 
tion, attributed  his  safety  to  the  direct  interposition  of 
Heaven,  to  a  miracle  operated  in  his  favor.  He,  mean- 
while, shut  himself  up  for  a  few  days,  and  solemnly  re- 
dedicated  to  God  the  life  which  had  been  spared  to 
him. 

The  other  memorable  incident  of  his  life  was  the 
plague  at  Milan'in  1575.  It  had  been  preceded  by  a 
scarcity,  in  which  St.  Charles  ministered  to  his  people 
like  a  beneficent  angel.  He  sold  his  principality  of 
Oria,  and  gave  the  produce,  forty  thousand  crowns,  for 
their  relief.  When  the  pestilence  broke  out,  he  was  at 
Lodi :  while  all  the  higher  clergy  and  the  nobles  were 
flying  from  Milan  in  different  directions,  St.  Charles 
calmly  took  his  way  thither,  and  entered  the  city  in 
spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his  vicars,  replpng  only, 
that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  shepherd  to  die  for  his  flock. 
During  the  continuance  of  the  plague,  which  carried 
off  some  thousands  of  the  people,  he  preached  every 
day,  distributed  medicine  and  relief  to  the  sick  and  poor, 
administered  the  last  sacraments  to  the  dying  and  as- 
sisted in  burying  the  dead.  Three  several  times  he 
walked  barefoot  through  the  city,  wearing  his  purple 
robes  as  cardinal,  and  with  a  halter  round  his  neck ; 
then,  kneeling  before  the  crucifix  in  the  cathedral,  he 
solemnly  offered  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  people. 
Twenty-eight  priests  voluntarily  joined  him  in  his  min- 
istry, and  it  is  recorded  that  neither  himself  nor  any  of 
these  caught  the  infection. 

In  considering  the  life  and  character  of  St.  Charles 
Borromeo,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  in  earnestness  and 
goodness  lies  a  power  beyond  all  other  power  which 
God  has  given  to  man.     It  is  clear  that  he  was  not  a 


I 


t,j»  LKCKXUS  Oy  run  ilO.VASTrC  oeders. 

■nan  of  large  inielleot.  Tbe  ulmirtkbte  good  sense  ha 
exhibited  on  several  occasioas  was  at  oilier  times 
eloDdud  bj  ttie  Diiial  puerile  iiuperatitioD.  He  wiu  not 
witer  than  tlie  men  of  his  creed  and  timo,  except  in  bo 
br  M  be  was  b^ler  :  he  was  betlor,  bc<:ause  he  lived  Dp 
to  the  ireed  ho  professed.  If  ho  was  a  rigid  disciplina- 
rian in  external  forms,  he  wob  most  rigid  to  himself. 
He  took  DO  interest  whatever  in  politics,  and,  after  be 
hod  posseaiuon  of  im  diocese,  not  much  in  science,  in 
art,  or  In  literature,  though  he  extended  education  on 
every  side  and  (u  all  classod.  Neither  did  be  owe  his 
boundless  influence  over  tlie  people  to  an;  oxteroal  ad- 
Tontagea.  He  had  a  sallow,  meagre  viaage,  a  tmj 
aquiline  nose,  a  dark  complexion,  a  high  but  narrow 
forehead  ;  his  features,  altogetber,  prceculiDg  almost  a 
caricature  of  the  Italian  phyaio^omy.  He  was  tall  and 
thin,  aod  stooped  in  his  gait  from  bodil;  wcoknees  j  be 
had  a  bod  voice  and  stammered,  yet  he  was  one  of  the 
most  forcihle  and  ekiqueot  of  preachers.  He  died  on 
the  4tb  of  November,  1584,  and,  true  to  his  spiritDBl  vo- 
cation to  tbe  VC17  last,  bo  was  heard  to  breathe  out,  with 
ft  sort  of  dyiug  rapture,  the  words  "  Ecce,  vaiiol  "  and 
so  expired,  having  hved  on  this  earth  forty-six  years. 

He  was  canonized  by  I'ope  Fan!  V.  in  IGIO,  and  bis 
remains  were  oitenvards  consigned  to  tlie  rich  shrine  in 
which,  guarded  luoroly  hy  the  reverential  piety  of  all 
donotninaiiuus  of  Cbtiations,  they  now  reposo ;  for  amid 
tbe  changes  and  rovolutioas  of  Italy,  as  yet  no  one  has 
dared  to  violate  tbe  sanctity  of  his  chnpol,  or  take  away 
a  jowel  {rom  among  the  ofierings  of  his  votaries.  What 
the  good  saint  himself  would  have  tboaght  of  the  gold, 
silver,  gems,  ood  crystals  lavished  upon  liim,  we  ean  all 
imagine  and  believe.  This  tliauglit  has  always  iotrndd 
with  a  diaugreeable  anil  discordant  feeliog  in  the  visil 
have  paid  to  his  chapel,  panelled  with  silver,  and  g 
toting  with  lioapcd-up  treasures  ;  the  dead  form  ai 
in  sploudid  pontiticab,  the  black  skuletoQ  head  crt 
witli  the  jcwulled  mitre,  shocked  me.  "  Upon  tli 
cupbagus,  and  all  around,  we  find  repealed  tbe  m 


8T,  CHARLES  BORROMEO*  199 

of  San  Carlo,  HtuniUtas,  reading  its  lesson,  and  almost 
reproaching  the  samptaoos  decorations  of  the  house  of 
death."* 

In  crossing  the  Simplon  into  Italy,  the  colossal  statue 
of  San  Carlo,  standing  on  an  eminence  near  the  shore 
of  his  native  lake,  the  Lago  Maggiore,  and  visible  for 
many  miles  around,  is  one  of  the  first  objects  which 
strike  the  traveller.  It  was  erected  in  1696,  and  is 
nearly  seventy  feet  high ;  the  attitude  is  majestic ;  the 
proportions  agreeable  to  the  eye,  when  viewed  from  a 
distance,  though  lost  when  near ;  and  the  hand  is  ex- 
tended in  benediction  over  the  district  which  still  reveres 
him  as  "  //  buon  Santo," 

The  Company  of  Goldsmiths  at  Milan  raised  to  him 
a  statue  of  pure  silver,  as  large  as  life,  which  stands  in 
the  sacristy  of  the  cathedral. 

The  best  devotional  figures  represent  St.  Charles  in 
his  cardinal's  robes,  barefoot,  carrying  the  crosier  as 
archbishop ;  a  rope  round  his  neck,  one  hand  raised  in 
benediction.  In  all  the  Italian  pictures  he  is  distin- 
guished by  the  peculiar  physiognomy  which  has  been 
preserved  in  authentic  portraits :  the  thin  beardless  face, 
mild  dark  eyes,  rather  large  mouth,  and  immense  aqui- 
line nose. 

Of  the  many  pictures  which  exist  of  him,  I  shall  no- 
tice only  the  most  remarkable,  all  of  which  belong  to  a 
late  period  of  art. 

His  portrait  by  Guido  is  in  his  fine  church  in  the 
Corso  at  Kome ;  another,  by  Philippe  de  Champagne, 
is  at  Brussels.  We  have  *'  San  Carlo  kneeling,  with 
angels  around  him,''  by  L.  Caracci,  and  the  same  sub- 
ject by  Annibal.  He  stands  beside  the  figure  of  the 
dead  Christ,  to  whom  an  angel  points,  by  C.  Procac- 
cino  :  the  same  subject  by  L.  Caracci.  San  Carlo  pre- 
sented by  the  Virgin  to  our  Saviour,  —  one  of  the  best 
pictures  of  Carlo  Marratd,  —  is  over  the  high  altar  of 
San  Carlo-in-Corso.  In  the  late  Milanese  pictures  he 
is  often  represented  with  St  Catherine  and  St  Am- 

*  V.  Murray's  Handbook,  Milan. 


ft 


3  LEC£yi>S  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OSDUItS. 

broM ;  also  with  St.  FniDceBca  Romuu,  for  the  r 
Bon  given  in  bar  liib  ;  sod  with  Sc  Fbilip  Sen,  i 
ftiend  and  conlcmporar}'. 

When  the  dliiens  of  Bologna  added  him,  ^MUt  tl 
year  1B15,  to  the  ILit  of  their  patron  eaint^.  he  beoan 
« favorite  subject  in  (he  Chco  flonrishiag  Bologna  schod 
All  the  three  Caracci,   Guido,   Gnereino,  Lanfh 
Garbieri,  and  Brixio  have  left  piciurcB  of  him. 
Ouido'i  meeniflcent  Pieiii,  bis  m afterpiece,  St.  Cha 
stands  below  with  Ihe  other  proiectora  of  Bologna, 
PutrouiBS,  St.  Bominick,  St.  Francis,  St.  ProculuB,  i 
Florian.     Tho  heod  of  San  Carlo  is  on  the  right,- 
beautlfal  fur  devoat  feeling,  beeidea  being  a  character- 
istiu  portrait. 

AiDong  tho  incidents  of  his  life,  tlie  two  prindp^ 
aie,  the  plagne  at  Milan,  and  the  attempt  K 
him.     In  Ihe  satyectB  taken  from  his  condact  duril 
the  pestilence,  he  is  sometimes   represented  si 
amid  the  dead  and  djing.  and  administering  the  n 

rament,  —  a  anhject  fhiqiiontly  poinled  ;  

before  the  altar,  he  ofiers  himself  a  sacriHce  for  hEi 
afflicted  people.  Of  'his  last  incident,  the  finest  e 
ftmple  I  know  is  the  picture  by  Le  Brun  ;  yet  tbe  ae 
ment,  as  it  aecma  to  mc,  is  weakened,  not  enhanced,  by 
the  introduction  of  the  attendant  behind,  who,  lifling 
up  tbe  ricb  robe,  shows  to  his  laimpajiion  the  feet  of 
tbe  saint  streaming  with  blood  (he  had  walked  barefoot 
through  the  streets  uf  Milan).  But  Lo  Bruu  has  always 
a  touch  of  the  theatrical,  —  always  painted  in  a  wig. 

The  procession  through  tbe  streets  of  Milan  duriug 
the  peslileDce,  by  Pieiro  da  Cortooa,  is  orer  the  high 
altar  of  Sua  Carlina-Cotinari  et  Korae,  where  DO  less 
than  three  churches  are  dedicated  to  him. 


efonj  I  close  this  brief  ai 
a  worth  recording  tlmt  his  ni 


t  of  Sbq  Carlo,  \ 


c,  as  well  as  painting  and  sculptnre.  In  the  midiU 
If  the  sizteentb  century  the  style  of  music  performei 
in  the  chnrchea  had  become  so  aecolar  and  depraved 


ST,  PHILIP  NERI.  20 1 

in  taste  and  style  that  the  Conncil  of  Trent  took  the 
matter  in  hand  as  a  scandal  to  religion ;  and  Pios  IV. 
"  nominated  a  commission  to  advise  upon  the  question, 
whether  music  was  to  be  permitted  in  the  churches  or 
not."  The  decision  was  long  doubtful.  "  The  Church 
required  that  the  words  should  be  distinctly  articulated, 
and  the  musical  expression  adapted  to  them.  The 
musicians  affirmed  that  this  was  not  to  be  attained  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  their  art."  *  Carlo  Borromeo 
was  at  the  head  of  this  commission,  and  the  very  strict 
opinions  of  this  <<  great  ecclesiastic  "  on  all  matters  of 
Church  discipline  rendered  it  most  probable  that  judg- 
ment would  be  given  against  that  heaven-descended  art 
which  had  been  so  profanely  abused.  "  But/'  adds 
the  historian,  "  happily  the  right  man  appeared  at  the 
critical  moment."  That  man  was  Falestrina.  When 
his  great  Mass,  since  known  and  celebrated  as  the 
"  Mass  of  Pope  MarceUus"  was  performed  before  Pius 
IV.,  St.  Charles,  and  the  other  members  of  the  com- 
mission, they  were  unable  to  resist  its  majestic  solem- 
nity, its  expressive  pathos;  and  "by  this  one  great 
example  the  question  was  forever  set  at  rest." 

In  connection  with  St.  Charles  Borromeo,  we  find 
his  contemporary  and  intimate  friend,  St.  Philip 
Kebi. 

Effigies  of  this  saint,  who  was  canonized  in  1622, 
belong,  of  course,  to  the  later  schools  of  art,  and  none 
are  very  good.  He  is,  himself,  extremely  interesting 
as  founder  of  one  of  the  most  useful,  practical,  and 
disinterested  of  all  the  religious  communities, — that  of 
the  Oratorians.t 

*  Banke,  History  of  the  Popes,  i.  508. 

t  When  I  visited  the  elegant  little  church  of  the  Oratorians, 
recently  erected  near  Alton  Towers,  I  found  portrayed,  on  th« 
window  over  the  high  altar,  the  following  saints.  In  the  centre, 
as  patron  of  the  church,  St.  Wilfred  of  York  ;  on  his  right,  St. 
Benedict  (I  presume  St.  Bennet  of  Wearmouth),  and  SU  Ethel- 
burga  ;  on  his  left,  St.  Chad  of  Lichfield,  and  St.  Hilda  of  Whitby, 
from  this  selection  I  presume  that  the  Oratorians  consider  them* 
telves  as  derived  from  the  Benedictine  Order. 


I 


joa  LEGLX 

He  was  born  in  15IS,  tho  son  of  a  Florentine  law- 
yer, and  deacended  from  one  of  ibo  oldest  Tuscan 
families.     In  1533  he  iBpaircd  to  Rome  in  Bearcli  of 

emplojmeDt,  and  liecanie  a  tutor  in  the  bmil;  of  a 
nobleman.  Ho  vis  already  ilistingaiahed  hb  a  profound 
and  elegant  scholar  and  cooBciEndone  teacher,  and  yet 
mare  for  bin  active  charity.  His  sopccior  intellect,  bis 
persnasivo  oloqitenco,  hie  epotiess  life,  rendered  iiim  a 
very  infloenti^  person^e  in  Che  rclifpons  moveajenC  of 
tbc  sixteenth  ceninry.  Aa  the  adviser  and  ulmoner  of 
St.  Charles  Borromoo,  he  bad  great  power  10  do  good, 
and  he  uaed  it  for  noble  and  practical  purposes. 

Ranks  gives  us  a  striking  picture  of  Filippo  Ken  in 
tew  words.  "  He  was  good-bninoicd,  witty,  strict  in 
essentiBlB,  indulgent  in  trifles.  He  never  commanded; 
he  advised,  or  pcrbapB  roquesled :  he  did  not  discourse, 
he  convereed :  and  he  possessed,  in  a  imnarkahle  de- 
gree, the  acuteness  necessary  lo  distinguish  the  peculiar 
merit  of  every  character." 

He  associated  with  himself,  i 
sereral  young  ccclesiaslics,  tnemi 
and  students  in  the  learned  profei 
under  his  du-ection,  were  fomted  in 
devoted  themselves  to  the  task  of  reading  (he  Scrip- 
tures, praying  nith  the  poor,  founding  and  visiting 
hospitals  for  tlbe  sick,  &c  They  were  boand  by  no 
vows  ;  there  was  no  Ibrced  seclasion  from  the  ordinary 
datiea  of  life.  They  took  the  name  of  OratariaDB,  from 
the  little  chapel  or  oratory  in  which  they  used  to 
assemble  round  Pihppo  to  receive  his  inBtrndJons. 

Cardinal  de  Benille  introduced  the  Perti  de  I'Oraloin 
into  France  in  1G31,  and  they  have  lately  been  estab- 
lished in  England.  Aiter  a  long,  usefui.  and  religiooa 
life,  Filippo  Neridied  in  159B,  at  [he  age  of  eighty-two. 

Gregory  XIII.,  in  coniinning  the  congregation  o( 
die  Oratory  in  1575,  bestowed  on  Filippo  Hnti  and  his 
companions  the  church  of  8.  Maria  dclU  Valhcella. 
After  the  death  of  tho  saint  it  was  entirely  rebuilt,  not, 
certainly,  in  very  good  taste,  yet  it  is  one  of  the  most 


n  works  of  charity, 
Hirs  of  the  nobility, 
sions  at  ItoniB,  who, 


He*' 


ST.  PHILIP  NBRl.  13) 

snport  rliorehea  in  Homo,  It  slill  liolongH  to  Iho  Ora- 
torions.  Hera,  after  Ijis  canonization  in  1622,  a  chnpel 
was  de(lic3Bted  to  San  Filippo  by  iiis  FloronttDD  kins- 
IDOD  Nero  de'  Ncri,  and  in  it  is  placed  the  mosaic  copjl 
niter  tlie  fine  picture  by  Gaido  whicli  represents  tlio 
saint  ia  an  ccatasy  of  devotion.  In  tlie  oratory  ia  pre- 
eerved  tlie  books,  tlie  crucifix,  the  bod,  sod  Eome  other 
rolics  of  this  benevolent  saint.  1  do  not  kuoir  that  hs 
ia  distingDished  by  any  partitakr  attrihntc. 

St.  Philip  Neri  waa  the  epiritnal  director  of  the  M^aa- 
eimi  &niily ;  it  ia  in  liis  honor  that  the  Palazzo  Masaimi 
is  dressed  up  in  featel  guise  every  16th  of  Mar^h,  aa 
ttioss  wtio  liare  been  at  Rome  at  that  peiiod  will  well 
remember.  The  nonoU  of  the  faniily  relate,  that  the 
Bon  aod  heir  of  Prince  Fahrizio  Maasimi  died  of  a  fever 
at  tho  age  of  fbartoon,  and  that  St.  Philip  roming  into 
the  room  amtd  the  lamentations  of  the  father,  mother, 
and  sisters,  laid  his  hand  npon  the  brow  of  the  yonlh, 
and  called  him  hy  bis  name,  on  which  he  revived, 
opened  hia  eyca,  and  eat  np.  "  Art  thou  anwilling  to 
"  ""  asked  the  saint.  "  No,"  sighed  the  youth.  "Art 
resigned  to  yield  thy  soul  to  God!"  "I  am." 
iQlan  go,"  said  Philip.  "  Va,  die  sii  betedetlo,  e  pn- 
■gi  Dio  per  noil"  Tlie  boy  sank  back  on  bia  piUow 
'til  a  heavenly  smile  on  his  face,  and  cKpircd. 

This  incident,  so  touching;  as  a  woU.autlieDticBCed 
fact,  BO  needlessly  exalted  into  a  miiaele,  ia  the  aubject 
of  a  very  heautifiil  picture  by  Pomeranda,  painlocl  by 
order  of  Prince  Fabriiio,  and  placed  in  llie  church  of 
Vallicella.  The  fitroily  portraits  in  ihia  picture  are  from 
life:  the  head  of  the  saint  bending  over  Paolo;  the 
beaatiful  tocpression  in  the  face  of  the  dying  youth ;  the 
sarprise  of  the  fatiier ;  the  devoat  thankfulneaa  of  the 
pioBS  mother ;  the  two  sisters,  who  kneel  with  clasped 
hands  and  parted  lipa,  watching  the  scene,  are  rendered 
with  much  drsfflalic  power. 

Wlien  I  was  at  Borne  in  )846,  Pius  IX.  performed 
AMrrice  in  the  family  chapel  of  the  Masaimi  in  memoiy 
fnddont.     The  prince  received  ail  visitors  ii 


104  IF-OENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORD, 

tUM;  and  tlie  hatli  and  roiridorv  of  lliie  onnt  magnifi- 
cent bat  now  diliipidated  palace  were  tlironRed  with 
people  of  all  clasaeg :  Borne  who  rnmo  ihoro  tn  honor  of 
the  saiDt;  others,  b6  a  mark  of  r«spcet  to  tbe  family; 
others,  like  mj'self,  mcrel^r  as  spoctatore  of  a  straoge 
and  animated  scene,  —  a  aorl  of  religious  "  at  home." 

It  is  worth  remarking  and  considering,  that  at  the 
veiy  time  when  St.  Charles  Borromeo,  San  Filippo, 
and  their  companions  and  diBcipIce,  wera  setting  an  ex- 
ample of  ChrietiaD  charitf  at  Rome,  the  massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew  was  enacted  in  France  bj  those  who  pro- 
fessed the  aatne  fiiith  ;  and  the  same  pope  who  enconr- 
B^  St.  Charles  in  his  spiritnal  reforms,  and  assisted 
Si.  Philip  Neri  in  his  works  of  charity  and  !□  hia  cflbrts 
for  the  moral  regeneration  of  Italy,  simck  ihe  medal 
In  liancir  of  the  massacre  of  the  Hugaenots  I  Such  are 
the  moral  and  religions  iDconsistcncies  which  make  the 
deriU  sneer,  and  the  angels  weep. 


I  miut  not  conclnde  these  notice.B  of  the  Kelbrmed 
Benediclinea  in  their  connection  with  an,  without  a  few 
words  of  the  FortrRoyalisls  and  the  Trappistes.  The 
reaowaed  convent  of  Fon'Gofal.des.  Champs  was  a 
(bnndation  of  the  Cistercians  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  account  of  the  fortanea  of  this  community,  and  of 
the  noble  conduct  of  La  M^re  Ang^iqno  and  her  nuns, 
which  forms  no  unimportant  page  of  French  historj, 
has  been  recently  given  to  us  by  Sir  James  Stephen; 
and  his  brief,  but  earnest  and  eloquent,  summary  of 
their  wrongs,  and  feminine  and  Christian  heroism,  must 
lend  a  new  interest  to  every  memorial  connected  with 
them.  Tliay  were  persecuted  to  the  grave  becanse  they 
refosed  to  certify,  by  their  signatures,  that  they  knew 
what  they  did  not  know,  and  helieved  what  they  did  not 
believe.  If  they  were  not  saints  and  martyrs  of  the 
Church,  yet  saints  they  were  in  the  true  and  oriRinol 
sense  of  the  word  ;  for  they  lived  boUly,  worked  faith' 


NUNS  OF  PORT  ROYAL.  205 

folly,  sufiered  patiently,  resisted  hambly,  and  died  at 
last,  as  their  historian  expresses  it,  "  martyrs  of  sincer- 
ity, strong  in  the  faith  that  a  lie  mnst  ever  be  hateful  in 
the  sight  of  Grod,  thoogh  infallible  popes  should  exact 
it,  or  an  infallible  church,  as  represented  by  cardinals 
and  confessors,  should  persuade  it." 

Nor  can  I  refrain  from  numbering  among  these  mar- 
tyr-nuns the  noble  Jaqueline  Pascal  (the  sister  of  the 
great  Pascal),  with  her  large  poet  mind,  and  woman's 
softest  gifts,  who  died  broken-hearted  because  she 
had  in  evil  hour  signed  that  formal  lie.  She  had 
previously  written  to  La  M^re  Angelique,  —  "  Je  sais 
bien  qu'on  dit  que  ce  n'est  pas  k  des  filles  h.  defendre 
la  Y^rit^,  mais  si  ce  n'est  pas  k  nous  k  defendre  la  v^r- 
it^,  c'est  k  nous  k  mourir  pour  la  v^rit^.''  Yet  for  the 
sake  of  peace  she  was  induced  to  sign,  and  died  of  that 
malady  for  which  earth  has  no  cure,  — a  wounded  con- 
science ;  a  martyr  to  truth,  which  she  could  not  violate 
and  live.* 

The  eldest  daughter  of  the  painter  Philippe  de  Cham- 
pagne had  become  a  nan  in  the  convent  of  Port-Royal, 
about  the  year  1650.  Champagne  was  a  religious  man, 
but  he  was  also  a  rich  and  prosperous  man,  holding  an 
office  at  court ;  and  having  lost  two  children  by  death, 
he  was  unwilling  to  resign  to  a  nunnery  the  only  one 
left :  she  persisted,  however,  and  he  consented  perforce. 

*  When  the  commissioner  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  was  sent 
to  examine  into  the  condition  and  profession  of  faith  of  the  nuns 
of  Purt-Eloyal,  Soeur  Jaqueline  was  one  of  those  interrogated.  Af- 
ter a  searching  examination  on  grace,  election,  and  so  forth,  which 
she  met  unflinchingly,  the  commissioner  concluded  with  a  home 
question:  "N'avez  vous  point  de  plaintes  ^ fEiire ? "  jR.  "Non, 
monsieur  *,  par  la  grace  de  Dieu  je  suis  parfiaitement  contente." 
D.  **  Mais  cela  est  6trange  !  Quaod  je  vais  quelquefois  voir  des 
Religieuses,  elles  me  tiennent  des  deux  heures  de  suite  k  me  fitire 
des  plaintes,  et  je  ne  trouve  point  cela  ici  ? "  R.  "  D  est  vrai, 
monsieur,  que  par  la  grace  de  Dieu  nous  vivons  dans  une  tr^s- 
grande  paix  et  une  grande  union.  Je  eroia  que  cela  vient  de  ce 
que  chacune  fait  son  devoir  sans  se  tniler  dee  autreaJ** — Fi€ 
de  Jacqueline  de  Paacaltpar  Victor  Couein. 


2o6  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MOSASTIC  ORDERS^ 

She  took  the  vdwb  under  the  obboas  Ang^quc,  eecond 
oflhu  name,  a  womua  of  geniiu,  Tirtoe,  and  leorniiig. 
Of  this  exvellenl  abbess  lliere  romaina  a.  portrait  by 
Chtunpa^e  :  whero  it  U  aow»  I  do  not  kcotp  ;  bat  the 
portrurs  of  her  fnlher  and  Iter  mother,  Anuiuld-D'An- 
dilly  aod  hii  wifo,  Modlle.  Le  Febrc,  are  iu  the  LouTre. 
The  first  is  one  of  the  fiaesl  portraiu  ever  produced  by 
the  FrCDCb  school :  the  second  iit  rather  hard  in  the 
execDtion  \  but  it  is  a  Aico  of  anrb  peculiar  character,— 
10  Kpiriluolizcd,  an  refined  from  all  eanhly  alloy,  with 
Bui^h  a  tinge  of  pale,  religioDS  conleiDplation,  such  a 
look  of  transparent  parity,  without  any  of  the  cbarma 
of  youth,  —  that,  once  Been,  it  leaves  an  indelible  im- 
presiioa  upon  the  mind.  This  portrait  hangs  nearly 
opposite  that  of  her  husband  ;  they  ought  to  hang  side 
by  Bide.  In  the  same  galleiy  we  find  Philippe  de 
Champagne's  most  celebrated  picture,  known  as  ■■  £ei 
Bidigleutet."  It  represents  iho  daughter  of  ChampBgne, 
who  had  bean  ill  of  a  fever,  and  given  over  by  Yax 
physician,  rtBtorcd  by  the  prayers  of  ooe  of  the  Bister- 
hood,  Catherine  Agnca  by  name.  This  picture,  re- 
markabla  for  the  simplicity  end  purity  and  religious 
repose  of  the  treatment,  Ecema  to  have  been  painted 
with  eameet  foehng  and  good-will,  to  please  his  daugh- 
ter, and  as  an  oflerlng  of  paternal  gratitude.  The  nuns 
wear  the  white  habit  and  black  hooda  pro|ioc  to  iheir 
Order ;  and  ore  diatinguished  by  a  red  cross  on  tliQ 
breast,  the  badge  of  the  Port-Iiovaliste. 

The  Trappistc«,  another  late  community  of  Reformed 
CiBteiclanB  (a.  d.  1664),  ia  tho  most  austere  of  all ;  and 
remarkable  as  having  originated  in  an  age  of  general 
luxury,  profligacy,  and  irreligion. 

Tlie  romantic  Etury  of  the  conversion  of  the  Abb^ 
de  Kanc4,  who,  on  hastening  to  an  acsigDation  with  hi« 
mistreBB,  the  bcantitul  Duchesa  de  Monlbazou,  found 
her  dead  in  tho  short  inlerval  of  his  absence,  and  laid 
oat  in  her  coffin  noder  circnmstaucea  of  pecuUsj  hor- 
ror, ia  well  known,  and  would  afibrd  many  pictureaqua 
Eubjecte  ;  but  as  tfaay  would  hardly  belong  lo  rdigiom 


NUN3  OF  PORT  ROYAL. 


soy 


art,  properly  so  called,  I  pass  them  over.  De  Banc^, 
on  founding  his  &mou8  iustitation  of  La  Trappe,  seems 
to  haye  taken  as  his  device  the  text,  **  In  the  midst  of 
life  we  are  in  death  " ;  and  imposed  as  conditions,  per- 
petual silence,  perpetual  labor,  perpetual  contemplation 
of  our  mortality.  Not  only  all  art  and  all  ornament, 
but  all  literature,  was  banished.  That  in  the  mind  of 
De  Ranc^  there  was,  after  the  shock  he  had  received,  a 
touch  of  the  morbid  or  the  mad, — that  even  in  his 
gloomy  retreat  he  was  haunted  by  that  "  enervating 
thirst  for  human  sympathy  which  had  distinguished  him 
in  the  world," —  seems  clear  and  intelligible ;  yet  the 
numbers  of  those  who  resorted  to  him,  who  lived  and 
died  under  his  terrible  ordinations,  —  lived  happily  and 
died  calmly,  shows  us  that  there  are  forms  of  mond  suf- 
fering, and  mental  disease,  for  which  we  might  provide 
more  appropriate  asylums  than  either  the  hospital  or 
the  mad-house. 


EARLY   ROYAL    SAINTS. 


^^H         IA(*a-|S|  lU^^  ^ven  a  skelcli  of  the  most  eminent 
^^^1  ^ffi^^    oF  our  Anglo-SaxoD  prini^i^s,  who  were  nui- 

^^^r  ^if^S    oniKil  throut;h  the  influeQ<'e  of  the  Beneilir- 

^^*  |2<3|»3SI  line  Order  in  England  ;  confining  mysBlf  lo 

those  wbo  huve  either  fi^ar^,  or  oaght,  as  I  presume, 
to  figure,  in  the  illnslratioD  of  oat  earlj  eeelcslsstiail 
bistory.  I  shnll  now,  in  order  to  Itcep  this  depanmcnc 
of  my  subject  qnile  distinct,  plare  together  those  Ravnl 
Sainlfi  who  flourished  tliroaghout  Cbristendom  in  early 
tiiaee  ;  who  either  prei^eil  the  iustitateof  St.  Benedtu, 
or  whom  we  find  in  eonnection  with  titat  iHuBtrions 
Order  in  religions  art  or  through   hnitoricBl  BESoeia- 

I  know  not  how  it  may  l>e  ^th  others,  bat  to  me  the 
effigies  of  the  lioyal  Saints  are  not  satisfaetorj.  They 
are  ail,  of  eoarec,  historical  peraonsLges,  but  they  do  not 
figure  as  sucb  in  Eocrcd  art ;  and  whacerer  space  they 
may  fill  in  the  page  of  history  —  though  it  be  that  of  a 
whole  era,  like  Charleme^e  —  however  distinpniahed 
as  actors  in  the  world's  drama,  however  reverenced  for 
virtues  which  the  world  seldom  sees  in  high  places, — 
Mill,  in  their  ssintly  character,  they  are  not,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  cminonl  or  interesting.  As  con- 
nected nith  art  they  are  comparatively  unimportant, 
both  in  I'^ard  to  what  they  represent  and  what  they 
BuggGBt.     Tor,  bo  it  retnembered,  they  do  not  represent 


EARLY  ROYAL  SAINTS. 


209 


history ;  neither  do  they  personify  an  attribute  of  Divine 
power,  nor  embody  a  tmth,  nor  set  forth  an  example ; 
which  is  the  reason,  I  sappose,  that  for  one  real  St. 
Charlemagne  or  St.  Clotilda,  we  have  ten  thousand  St. 
Christophers  and  St.  Catherines.  In  considering  these 
Royal  Saints  we  must  in  the  first  place,  and  in  all  cases, 
set  the  saint  above  the  sovereign,  and  put  history  out 
of  our  minds,  and  its  stem  facts  and  judgments  out  of 
our  memories.  Now  this  is  not  easy :  in  some  cases  it 
is  not  possible ;  hence  the  legendary  fictions  connected 
with  many  of  these  stately  and  glorified  personages  dis- 
turb rather  than  excite  the  fancy,  for  here  the  real  and 
ideal  do  not  blend  well  together.  When  Constantine, 
with  the  celestial  nimbus  round  his  head,  figures  as  the 
hero  of  a  religious  legend,  he  becomes  as  mere  a  fiction 
as  Charlemagne  starting  amid  his  magicians  and  pala- 
dins at  the  sound  of  Orlando's  horn.  Unluckily  for 
these  pictured  or  poetical  creations,  we  can  hardly  in 
either  case  set  aside  the  image  in  our  minds  of  the  real 
Constantine,  the  real  Charlemagne :  and  the  reality  is 
more  perplexing,  more  painful,  when  it  disturbs  our 
religious,  than  when  it  interferes  with  our  poetical, 
associations.  The  Charlemagne  of  Ariosto  is  delight- 
ful ;  the  Saint  Constantine  of  Church  history  is  to  me 
disgusting.  There  should  not  intrude  repugnance  and 
offence  and  the  risk,  of  a  divided  feeling,  where  the  idea 
conveyed  ought  to  be  either  abstract,  or  at  least  gracious 
and  harmonious,  and  the  feeling  completely  reverential. 
Now  in  the  case  of  historical  or  political  personages, 
whose  effigies  are  placed  before  us  in  the  character  of 
superior  beings,  they  are  involuntarily  subjected  to  a 
judgment  such  as  crowned  kings  must  be  prepared  to 
endure,  but  which  in  regard  to  crowned  saints  is  in 
some  sort  profisme ;  —  "  For  the  glory  of  the  celestial  b 
one,  and  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another."  There- 
fore, I  repeat,  title  effigies  of  sainted  potentates  and 
princes  are  unsatisfactory.  As  it  is  out  of  the  question 
to  deal  with  them  otherwise  than  in  the  religious  and 
artistic  point  of  view,  they  may  be  passed  over  briefly. 

14 


^ 


We  EhODld,  in  the  first  plnce,  diatin^iBh  b 
thoae  who  were  cnnotiiiGd  for  te    ' 
to  tbe  Charcb  or  for  the  interest  of  chnrchoieD,  ■ 
those  who  were  canonited  —  bo  to  apeak.  — 
of  the  people,  long  before  an  ccclcsiostkal  decree  had 
confirmed  tlieir  exaltation,  ibr  virtQeH  difficult  and  rare 
on  a  throne,  —  beneiiceace,  clemency,  eelf-denial,  hn- 
mili^,  active  ajmpathy  with  tbo  c 
and  the  general  good,  as  far  as  they  nnderslood  it 
tbo  farmer  claat  belong  St.  CoiiBtaatiiie,  St.  Henr^,  Sb,fl 
Ferdinand,  and  a  crowd  of  oiIictb  ;  to  the  latter  cl 
belong  St.  Cbarlomagne,   St.  JiLliuibetb,  and  perhtips  a  i 
few  more.     In  (rfving  a 

the  Empress  Cnncgnnda,  the  writer  of  hor  life  reuiark«, 
that  those  who  are  placed  ii  '  *  ' 
larily  bo  to  Torj  many  the  oi 

or  of  eternal  perdition  i  that,  as  far  aa  tbo  wide  cirde 
of  their  influence  and  example  extends,  they  cannot  riM  Q 
withonc  rusing  tbe  etandard  of  virtus  anwnd  them;:' 
they  cannot  fall  wicbuitt  dragging  down  othen  ii 
abjaa  of  sin.  "  Therefore,"  he  arguea,  "  a,  greater  de- 
gree of  glory  or  of  pimishmenr  than  would  he  tbe  lot 
of  common  men  is  tlio  juat  and  overlaating  portion  of 
the  rulers  of  men," 

I  shall  DOW  take  them  in  order. 

At  their  head  stand  Constaiitine  and  Charlemagne, 
often  together,  as  patrons  reepdivoly  of  the  Greek  and 
the  Latin  Churches,  St,  Constanline  rarely  stands  alone 
io  Western  art.  Koltvitliatandiag  hisfiunouB  donation 
of  the  central  territory  of  Italy  to  the  popes  of  Rome 
(which  Ariosto  has  so  irreverently  placed  in  the  moon 
with  Orlando's  loetwilaj,  I  have  seldom  seen  him  figure 
in  any  situation  where  his  Christian  merits  took.  precB' 
dence  of  his  imperial  greatticss,  —  not  oven  in  the  "Hall 
of  Conatanliae  "  in  the  Vatican,  where  Raphael  has 
done  his  beat  to  g[oti!y  him.  It  is  still  the  emperor, 
and  not  the  Bainl;  and  when  Sylvester  r< 
nf  donation,  he  is  throned,  and  the  imperial  ConslandM 


BB.  C0N8TANTINE  AND  CHARLEMAGNE,  an 

hamblj  presents  it  on  his  knees.  The  **  Legend  of 
St.  Constantino  and  St.  Sylvester"  I  have  already 
given  at  length ;  *  the  emperor  plays,  throughoat,  the 
secondary  personage  in  that  carious  fiction.  In  an 
assemblage  of  the  Blessed  in  a  Last  Judgment,  a  Para- 
diso,  a  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  and  such  subjects,  it 
is  usual  to  find  Constantine  and  Charlemagne  standing 
together :  the  former  bearing  the  long  sceptre,  or  the 
standard  with  the  cross  (the  Labarum),  and,  in  Italian 
art,  always  in  the  classical  costume ;  the  latter  in  a  suit 
of  armor,  a  long  mantle  often  trimmed  with  ermine ;  a 
sword,  or  a  globe  surmounted  by  a  small  cross,  in  one 
hand;  and  in  the  other  a  book, — either  as  the  great 
l^islator  of  his  time,  or  because  he  ordered  the  transla- 
tion of  the  Scriptures  to  be  carefully  corrected  and 
widely  promulgated. 

The  most  ancient  representation  of  Charlemagne  in 
his  saintly  character  I  have  yet  met  with  is  a  fragment 
of  mural  painting  preserved  in  the  Christian  Museum 
in  the  Vatican ;  the  head  only,  wearing  the  kingly  crown 
surmounted  by  the  aureole;  he  has  a  short,  square, 
yellowish  beard,  and  a  refined  and  rather  melancholy 
face :  I  describe  from  memory,  but  it  impressed  me  as 
having  a  portrait-like  air,  as  a  head  I  would  have  given 
to  Alfired. 

The  copies  of  the  Crospels  which  Charlemagne  ordered 
to  be  transcribed  and  distributed  to  various  religions 
institutions  were  sometimes  illuminated  by  Greek  ar- 
tists, whom  he  had  invited  from  Constantinople.  iVo 
of  these  MSB.  are  in  the  national  library  at  Paris.  The 
drawing  of  the  figures  is  as  rude  as  that  of  St.  Dunstan ; 
the  colors  vivid ;  the  ornaments  fanciful.  An  Evangelis- 
tariunif  copied  and  illuminated  for  the  use  of  Charle- 
magne and  his  empress  Hildegarde,  was  presented  to 
Napoleon  on  the  birth  of  his  son,  and  was  in  the  ex- 
King's  private  library  in  the  Tuileries :  I  know  not  if 
it  still  exist  there.  Napoleon  liked  to  be  considered  as 
a  second  Charlemagne ;  and  Charlemagne  assumed  the 

*  Sacred  and  L^^endary  Art. 


I 


name  snd  sctribaies  of  King  Dnvid.*  He  occara  per 
petuallj  in  the  French  missalB :  in  Aiie;e1ico'a  extjnisiie 
CoranBtion  of  the  Virgin,  he  kneels  at  the  foot  of  the 
Divine  ihninc.  on  the  left  of  llie  picture ;  and  has  three 
cnxrns  embroidered  on  his  robe,  representing  hia  do- 
minion over  Fr&nw,  German}',  nnd  Italy.  Iti  order  to 
represent  the  embodied  religious  and  intellectual  spirit 
of  [hose  times,  the  imperial  aaiat  should  stand  hetween 
his  secreturj  and  chronicler  Eginhardt,  tmd  the  wise 
Saxon  monic  Alcwiti,  "  le  eonlidcnt,  le  conseiller,  la 
ducceur,  et,  pour  tunsi  dire,  le  premier  ministre  intel- 
lectuel  de  Charlemagne":  and,  thus  accompanied,  I 
should  not  object  to  see  him  wilh  ahalo  round  his  head. 
In  France.  Qermanir,  and  Italj,  Charlemagne  stands 
at  Ibe  bead  of  tbe  Itoyiil  Saints  ;  bnt,  in  a  cbrboological 
series,  St.  Clotilda,  and  St.  Si^mond  should  precede 


Cl«TiLl>A,  the  ChrJBtiam  wiffe  of  the  fierce  and  war- 
like Clovis,  wss  a  princess  of  Burgundy,  (a,  d,  534, 
Jan.  3.)  She  is  saJd  to  have  Christianijed  France,  and 
occurs  frequently  in  French  pictures  and  illuminated 
missals  and  breviariea.  She  is  oeually  represented  in 
the  royal  robes,  with  a  long  white  veil  and  a  jewelled 
crown  ;  she  is  either  bestowing  alros  on  the  poor,  or 
kneeling  in  prayers  ;  or  attended,  by  an  angel  holding  a 
shield,  on  which  are  the  three  Fteura-deJi/s.  By  her 
prayers  and  alma  she  hoped  to  obtain  the  conversion 
of  lier  husband,  who  fur  a  long  time  resisted  her  and 
the  holy  men  whom  she  had  called  to  her  aid.  At 
length,  m  the  hislorians  tell  us,  Clovis  haiing  lad  his 
army  against  tbe  Hnns,  and  being  in  imminent  danger 
of  a  shameful  defeat,  recommended  himself  to  the  God 
of  his  Clotjlda  :  the  tide  of  battle  lurncd  ;  he  obtained  a 
complete  vii:toiy,  and  was  baptized  by  St.  Remi,  to  the 


IT  Hal  Dt 


■"  Tr*s 


ST.  8IGJSM0ND.  213 

infinite  joy  of  Clotilda.  On  this  occasion,  says  the 
legend,  not  only  was  the  erase  of  holy  oil  miracolously 
brooght  by  a  dove  (figuring  the  Holy  Ghost),  but,  ow- 
ing to  a  vision  of  St.  Clotilda,  the  lilies  were  substi- 
tuted in  the  arms  of  France  for  the  three  frogs  or  toads 
(Crapauds)  which  Clovis  had  formerly  borne  on  his 
shield.  In  the  famous  Bedford  missal^  presented  to 
Henry  VI.  when  he  was  crowned  King  of  France,  this 
legend,  with  appropriate  and  significant  flattery,  is  intro- 
duced in  a  beautiful  miniature :  an  angel  receives  in 
heaven  the  celestial  lilies,  descends  to  earth,  and  pre- 
sents them  to  St.  Remi,  who  receives  them  reverently 
in  a  napkin,  and  delivers  them  to  Clotilda ;  lower  down 
in  the  picture,  she  bestows  the  emblazoned  shield  on  her 
husband.  Such  is  the  famous  legend  of  the  Fleurs-de' 
lySf  the  antique  emblems  of  purity  and  regeneration ; 
how  often  since  trailed  through  blood  and  mire !  St. 
Clotilda  displayed  some  qualities  not  quite  in  harmony 
with  her  saintly  character.  When  in  her  old  age,  her 
two  younger  sons  had  seized  the  children  of  their  eldest 
brother  Chlodomir,  and  demanded  of  her  whether  she 
would  prefer  death  or  the  tonsure  for  her  grandsons ; 
she  exclaimed  passionately,  "Better  they  were  dead, 
than  shaven  monks ! "  They  took  her  at  her  word ; 
two  of  the  princes  were  immediately  stabbed.  The 
third  escaped,  fled  to  a  monastery,  assumed  the  cowl, 
and  became  famous  as  Saint  Cloud  (or  Clodoaldus, 
A.  D.  560) ;  who  should  be  represented  as  a  Benedictine 
monk,  with  the  kingly  crown  at  his  feet. 

St.  Sigismond  of  Burgundy  was  the  cousin  of  Clo- 
tilda, (a.  d.  525,  May  1.)  At  this  time,  Graul  was 
divided  between  the  Arians  and  the  Catholics ;  the 
Catholics  triumphed,  and  those  who  perished  on  their 
side  became  consequently  canonized  martyrs.  Sigis- 
mond  was  one  of  these :  his  father  Gondubald,  an  Arian, 
had  murdered  the  parents  of  Clotilda.  When  Sigis- 
mond  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Burgundy,  he  became 

•  CoUectton  of  Sir  J.  Tobln. 


LUGK.SDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


R  Calholic:,  and  was  dutinguiBhed  by  liu  piol; :  be,  how- 
ever, like  tbo  piona  Cotuuutinc,  pnl  bis  eldest  son  to 
death,  on  the  false  accnealiaa  of  a  croel  BlepTnoltier; 
and  nbile  rcpcnliDg  his  crime  in  Eaekcloth  uid  m ' 
he  prayed  tiiat  the  punlsbment  due  to  him  might  &I1 
upon  him  in  this  world  rather  than  the  oext.  His 
prayers  were  heard :  the  soaa  of  Clotilda  invaded  hi* 
kingdom,  took  bin)  prisoner,  and  avenged  (be  c 
ofhis  foiberGondubald,  by  putting  him  la  death.  ' 
body  of  Sigiemond  was  flung  into  a  well ;  sod  tl 
some  years  aftenvards,  removed  to  the  ronvent  ( 
Maurice.  It  ie  bis  connection  (a»  a  eaint  only)  n 
St.  Hourice  and  the  Tbebnn  Legion  uhieli  has  popnlir- 
iied  St.  Bigiamond  in  Italy.  Ho  is  one  of  the  palnmi 
of  Cremona.  In  a  cbapcl  dedicated  la  him  there, 
Franceaca  SfoiTa,  celebralHl  bis  marriHgo  with  Bianco, 
ViscoDti,  the  heiress  of  Mileji.  As  a  monument  at 
once  of  bis  love,  bis  giatllndc,  and  his  piety,  be  conn 
rerted  the  little  church  into  a  most  magniiJceDt  temple, 
glorious  with  marbles,  and  pictures,  and  shrines  of 
wondcoua  beanty.  The  painters  of  the  Cremona  school, 
rarely  met  with  out  of  Itolj,  cannot  be  belter  atndied 
than  in  the  Chorcb  of  St.  Sigismond.  I  made  a, 
pilgrimage  thither  one  hot  dnsty  day  (it  is  two  miles 
&om  the  city  gate),  and  I  remember  well  the  feeling 
with  which  I  put  aside  the  great  floating  draperies  which 
butlg  before  the  ponal,  and  uteppcd  out  of  the  glaring 
sunshine  into  tlie  perftimed  air  and  subdued  light,  and 
(rod  the  marble  pavement,  sn  cool  and  lustrous,  a 
leaned,  unhlamod,  against  tbc  altar-steps,  l 
I  was  quite  alone,  and,  ftir  many  reasoos,  that  Cbur 
of  San  Gismondo  dwelk  in  my  remembrance.  ~ 
the  pictures,  though  interesting  as  examples  of  a  pa 
lar  school  of  art,  were  not  to  me  attractive,  either  it 
style  or  subject,  excepting  alivaju  ibc  grand  altar-piece 
of  Giulio  Contpi.  It  represents  the  Madonna  and  Child 
BDthioned;  and  rrancesca  Sforiia  and  Bianca  Marift 
Tiaconti,  as  duke  and  duchess  o(  Milan,  presented  b 
I   St.  Chiynuthus  and  St.  Daria,  with  St.  Sigismoud  an 


88.  CYRIL  AND  METHODIUS.  215 

St  Jerome  standing  on  each  side.  The  choice  of  the 
attendant  saints  appears  anintelligible,  till  we  remember 
that  the  nuptials  which  gave  Sforza  the  sovereignty  of 
Milan  and  Cremona  were  celebrated  on  the  feast  of  SS. 
Chrysanthns  and  Daria  (Oct  25, 1441^ ;  that  the  church 
was  dedicated  to  St.  Sigismond,  and  the  monastery  to 
St  Jerome.  The  picture  is  splendid,  —  like  Titian; 
and  the  dress  of  St  Sigismond  in  particular,  with  its 
deep  crimson  and  violet  tints,  quite  Venetian  in  the 
intense  glow  of  the  coloring.  The  describer  of  this 
picture  in  Murray's  Handbook  mentions  **  the  shrink- 
ing timidity  in  the  figure  of  Bianca."  There  is  no 
such  thing :  on  the  contrary,  she  looks  like  a  gorgeous 
bride  who  had  brought  two  duchies  to  her  husband. 
But  this  is  a  digression ;  —  I  must  turn  back  to  the  old 
royalties  of  Germany  and  Gkiul.  How  is  it  there  were 
no  Royal  Saints  among  the  powers  and  principalities 
of  Italy  ?  I  find  none :  not  even  the  **  great  Countess 
Matilda,"  whose  munificent  piety  almost  doubled  the 
possessions  of  the  Church  of  Bome. 


Next  after  Charlemagne  we  find  St.  Wenceslaus  and 
St.  Ludmilla,  familiar  to  all  who  have  visited  Prague. 

A  school  of  art,  distinct  from  German  art,  and  of 
which  we  know  little  or  nothing  in  England,  flourished 
in  Bohemia  about  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
Charles  IV.,  king  of  Bohemia  and  emperor,  who  held 
his  court  at  Prague,  decorated  his  churches  and  pal- 
aces with  altar-pieces  and  frescos  ;  not  only  employing 
native  artists,  but  inviting  to  his  capital  others  from 
foreign  countries  ;  among  them  an  Italian,  one  of  the 
school  of  the  Giotteschi,  called  from  his  birthplace 
Tomaso  di  Mutina  (i.  e.  Thomas  of  Modena).  By  this 
painter,  by  Theodoric  or  Dietrich  of  Prague,  and  by 
Karl  Skreta  Bitter  Ssotnowsky  von  Zaworzic —  (<<  Phoe- 
bus !  what  a  name ! "  after  the  musical  nomenclature 
of  Italian  art !)  —  I  saw,  when  I  was  in  Bohemia  and 


^^™        116  LEOt 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

Aoitria,  varioiu  pjcturea,  and  am  onlj  Rorry  1  did  hoc 
then  pn;  more  ancnlimi  10  tho  ptfnUar  end  nnlionnl 
■nbJKU  represcDtnl,  —  ihc  legendarj  woitlii«i  and  pn- 
boa  sainu  of  Bohemia. 

The  earlieet  aposttea  of  the  SclaTODfc  tribea,  the 
MoniTiaiig,  Boheminna,  HnDgariani,  and  BDlferiana, 
were  two  Greek  munks  of  the  Order  of  St.  Bnail, 
known  aa  St.  Cyril  and  St.  Methodioa,  and  connected 
in  B  yBTj  ioteresting- iDBD  OCT  with  thehislory  of  religiona 
nrt.  CjrrI  was  learned  and  eloquent,  a  philosopher  and 
a  poei ;  Melhodin*  was  considered  an  exwlleni  painier 
of  tliat  time,  when  his  country  produced  the  only 
paintera  kaono.  These  two  monks  depaitcd  together, 
by  order  of  (he  patriarch  of  Constantinople,  to  preach 
to  the  savage  nationg  along  tho  ehon^  of  the  Dannlie. 
Bogaris,  the  king  or  chief  of  But|:uria,  having  heard  of 
the  art  of  Methodius,  icquiccd  of  him  [hat  he  should 
point  a  piclure  in  the  hoi!  of  his  palace,  and  that  it 
should  bo  "something  terrible,"  to  iiopreas  his  subjects 
and  vassals  willi  awe.  Methodius  accordingly  pointed 
the  Day  of  Jndgment,  representing  at  the  summit  oai 
Lord  seated  in  glory,  and  surrounded  with  angels;  on 
his  right,  the  resurrection  of  the  blessed,  and  on  bis 
left,  the  doom  of  ainoers,  swallowed  np  in  flames  and 
tormented  by  the  most  hideous  demons.  When  the 
king  desired  to  have  the  iaterpretatioa  of  this  "  teniblo  " 
picture,  Cyril,  who  wb$  as  eloquent  in  words  aa  Metho- 
dius was  in  colors  and  forms,  preached  to  the  bar- 
barian monarch  and  his  attcudaiits  such  a  sermon  as 
concerted  ihem  all  on  tho  spot.  Their  mission  was 
extended  successfully  through  the  Furrounding  nations. 
While  Methodius  pahaed  the  doctrines  of  tbe  Christian 
faith,  Cyril  explained  t))em  in  the  language  of  thn 
people,  invented  for  them  a  written  alphabet,  tronslated 
portions  ofthoGospn,  and  obtained  fmm  Pope  Nicholaa 
the  privilege  of  celebrating  the  divine  service  in  the 
Sclavonic  tongues.  These  Two  saints  are  generally 
represented  together,  aa  St.  Methodius  tlie  pointer,  and 
St.  Cyril  the  philosopher.     The  former  holds  in  hii 


ST.  WENCESLAUS.  217 

hand  a  tablet,  on  which  is  a  picture  of  the  Day  of  Jadg- 
ment ;  the  latter  holds  a  lai^  book.  Thus  they  stand 
in  a  fine  marble  group  in  the  cathedral  at  Prague. 

Another  missiooarj  who  carried  the  light  of  the 
Gospel  into  Bohemia  was  St.  Adelbert  (or  Albert),  an 
Anglo-Saxon  Benedictine  from  the  kingdom  ot  North- 
umbria.  He  converted  Ludmilla,  the  grandmother  of 
Wenceslaus,  venerated  through  northern  Grermany  and 
Denmark  as  St.  Wenzel.  Ludmilla  carefully  educated 
the  young  prince  in  her  own  faith.  Meantime,  his 
brother  Boleslaus  had  been  brought  up  by  his  heathen 
mother  Drahomira  in  all  the  dark  errors  of  paganism. 
The  characters  of  the  two  princes  corresponded  with  the 
tenets  they  respectively  embraced.  Wenceslaus  was  as 
mild,  merciful,  and  just,  as  Boleslaus  was  fierce,  cruel, 
perfidious.  Bohemia  was  divided  by  the  two  parties, 
the  Christian  and  the  heathen ;  and  at  length  Boleslaus 
and  his  wicked  mother  conspired  to  assassinate  Lud- 
milla (a.  d.  927,  Sept.  16),  as  being  the  great  pro- 
tectress of  the  Christians,  and  the  enemy  of  their  native 
gods.  The  hired  murderers  found  her  praying  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross  in  her  private  oratory,  and  strangled 
her  with  her  own  veil.  Thus  she  became  the  first 
martyr-saint  of  Bohemia. 

The  turn  of  Wenceslaus  came  next :  he  had  valiantly 
met  his  enemies  in  the  field,  though  not  even  the  atro- 
cities of  Drahomira  could  induce  him  to  forget  his  duty 
to  her  as  a  son.  According  to  the  legend,  two  angels 
from  heaven  visibly  protected  Wenceslaus  in  battle 
(a.  d.  938,  Sept.  28) ;  but  they  forsook  him,  apparently, 
when,  by  the  arts  of  his  mother,  he  was  entrapped  to  pay 
her  a  visit,  and  slain  by  the  hand  of  his  brother  at  the 
foot  of  the  altar  and  in  the  act  of  prayer. 

Wenceslaus  lived  at  the  time  when  the  passion  for 
relics  had  spread  over  all  Christendom.  On  a  visit 
which  he  paid  to  his  friend  Otho  I.,  that  warlike 
emperor  bestowed  on  him  certain  relics  of  St.  Vitus 
and  St.  Sigismond.  Thus  in  the  Bohemian  pictures 
we  have  St.  Wenceslaus  and  St.  Sigismond,  all  glorious 


i,S  LEGENDS  OF   THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

Ib  their  priniMjIy  robeii.  their  crowns  and  potnu.  and 
ghini[i^  armor  i  St,  Ludmilla,  with  bor  palm  and  liar 
veil ;  8c  Vitas,  as  a  beauIJIHil  boj  nith  a  cock  on  big 
book;  St.  George;  and  St.  Proropias,  a  holy  Bohe- 
mian prince  who  turned  hermit  in  the  eleventh  century, 
and  is  rcgiregeoKd  with  a  doe  at  his  side  nod  a  crown 
at  his  feet. 

St.  WenccHlaua  ia  ropresentcd  robed  and  armed  as 
Duke  of  Bohemia,  carryiDg  (he  shield  and  standard 
with  the  black  Imperial  ea^te  (a  pririlege  granted  to 
him  by  Ollio  I.),  and  his  polni  m  martyr. 

In  the  Imperial  Gallery  at  Vienna  is  a  very  curioni 
altar-piece,  with  the  Virgin  and  Child  enlhroiiad  in  the 
ceotral  compartment :  on  one  side  St.  Wenceelaoa ;  oa 
the  otlier  5t.  Palmatins,  inscribed 


Another  picture  in  which  St.  Wenceslans,  a  colosul 
ft!;uro,  Ib  etanding  with  the  same  attributes,  while  an 
angel  brings  him  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  In  the 
background  ia  a  pedestal,  on  which  is  depicted  a  baa- 
relief,  exhibiting  the  mnrder  of  the  saint  by  hia  wicked 
brother.  The  painter,  Angiolo  CaraselU,  waa  one  of 
the  namerous  artiste  in  the  employment  of  Rudolph  H 

In  the  galleiy  of  the  Academy  there  is  (or  waa)  a 
■eries  of  pictnrea  representing  the  life  and  martyrdom 
of  WonceelaoB,  by  Curl  Skretn,  who,  notwithstanding 
his  terrible  name,  was  a  very  good  painter,  particularly 
of  portnuts. 

The  martyrdom  of  St.  Ludmilla  I  found  represented 
fa  a  curious  old  fragment  of  a  haa-relief,  standing  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Laurence  at  Nuremt>erg.  A  tine  marble 
statue  by  a  native  Bohemian  sculptor,  EmaDuei  Max, 
haB  recently  been  set  up  in  llie  Church  of  St.  Vitus  at 
Prague. 


ST,  HENRY  OF  BAVARIA,  219 

the  Church.  He  was  horn  in  the  year  972,  was  elected 
emperor  in  1002,  and  died  at  Bome  in  1024.  He 
founded  and  endowed,  in  conjunction  with  his  wife 
Conegnnda,  the  magnificent  cathedral  and  monastery 
of  Bamberg  in  Franconia,  and  many  other  convents 
and  religious  edifices  in  Germany  and  Italy.  His 
brother  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and  other  princes  of  tlie 
Empire,  reproached  him  for  expending  not  only  his 
patrimony,  but  the  public  treasures  in  these  foundii^ 
tions ;  they  even  made  this  an  excuse  for  their  rebellion 
against  him.  But  Henry  showed  himself  not  less 
valiant  than  he  was  devout.  He  defeated  his  adver- 
saries in  the  field,  and  then  earned  his  title  of  saint  by 
pardoning  them  all  freely,  and  restoring  to  them  their 
possessions.  He  undertook  an  expedition  against  the 
idolatrous  nations  of  Poland  and  Sclavonia,  partly  for 
their  conversion  and  partly  for  their  subjection.  On 
going  forth  to  this  war  he  solemnly  placed  his  army 
under  the  protection  of  the  three  holy  martyrs,  St. 
Laurence,  St.  George,  and  St.  Adrian,  and,  as  already 
related,  girded  on  the  sword  of  the  last-named  warlike 
saint,  which  had  been  long  preserved  as  a  precious  relic 
in  the  church  of  Walbeck.  The  legend  goes  on  to 
assure  us,  that  his  saintly  protectors  were  seen  visibly 
fighting  on  his  side,  and  that  through  their  divine  aid 
he  defeated  the  infidels,  and  obliged  them  to  receive 
baptism.  As  a  memorial  of  his  victory  arose  the  beau- 
tiful church  of  Merseberg.  He  also  led  an  army  to  the 
very  extremity  of  Italy,  and  drove  the  Saracens  from 
their  conquests  in  Apulia.  These  were  services  ren- 
dered not  only  to  the  Church,  but  to  Christendom; 
and  it  seems  clear  that,  though  the  piety  of  Henry  was 
deeply  tinctured  by  the  fanaticism  and  superstition  of 
the  times  in  which  he  lived,  he  possessed  some  great 
and  some  good  qualities.  He  professed  a  particular 
veneration  for  the  Virgin,  and  it  was  his  custom  in  his 
warlike  expeditions,  whenever  he  entered  a  city  for  the 
first  time,  to  repair  immediately  to  a  church  dedicated 
to  the  Mother  of  the  ^vioar,  and  there  to  pay  his  de- 


I 


III  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEKS. 

bnt  finer  still  are  Che  ba«-re1iefa  nhidi  dcconue  Iho 
podMtal  or  SBTCiophneua  on  whit'h  [hej  recline.  Tiicro 
sre  foar  eniycclB :  1.  Cunq^unda  nuclergoeB  tbv  fiery 
ordeal,  a  bOBiitiral  composilion  uf  eight  flgnres.  !. 
Cancgnnda  pnjs,  out  of  her  clower,  iho  arcliiieets  and 
init»>iia  who  are  bailding  ilie  Ctiurch  of  St.  Stephen  ai 
Buuherg.  3.  Henry,  id  his  laac  illncBa,  Cakes  leave  of 
his  nife.  4.  Henry  reeeii'es  the  laat  offlcea  trom  the 
Bishop  of  Barabei^.  S.  The  legend  of  Si.  Lanrence, 
wlilch  I  have  already  related  at  length.  These  iculp- 
lurcs,  eontempomry  wich  the  bronies  of  Peter  Vischer 
at  Nnn^mticrg  (between  1499  and  1513),  were  exeented, 
under  the  aueplt'ee  of  a  Bishop  of  Bainherg,  by  Hans 
Thielmann  of  IVnrzhurg.  lu  dolieacy  of  workmansliip 
and  dramatic  feeling,  they  eqnal  some  of  the  finest 
eontemporary  works  of  ICaij. 

In  the  conn-yard  of  the  castle  at  Nuremberg  there 
stood,  and  I  hope  gtill  stands,  a  lime-tn«.  said  lo  have 
been  planted  by  Cnnegunda,  and,  for  her  sake,  relig- 
iously guarded  by  the  people.  It  was,  wiien  I  saw  it, 
almost  in  the  last  stage  of  decay,  though  still  preserving 
its  vilaiiCy.  This  memorinl,  though  it  concerns  iiotura, 
not  an,  discrvos  lo  be  mentioned. 

Of  St.  Stephen,  king  of  Hangary,  there  is  not 
mach  to  be  said  with  tererence  to  an.  Ue  was  the  first 
Christian  king  of  that  counCry,  and  Eiiececded  his 
father,  Dnke  Geysa,  abouc  the  year  B9B.  Goyaa  and 
his  wife  received  baptism  late  io  life  from  the  hand  of 
St.  Adelhert,  the  Northamhrian  misGionaiy  ;  and,  as  a 
sign  of  their  new  faith,  gave  Iho  name  of  the  Christian 
Proto-roartyr  to  their  eldest  son.  Stepheu  found  liis 
connCry  barbarous  and  heathen  ;  and  he  left  it  coni- 
paracively  civilized  and  Chrislianiised.  Uaviag  subdued 
the  pagan  nations  aroand,  and  inrarporawd  chem  wich 
bis  own  people,  be  sent  ambassadors  to  Roma  with  rich 
offiringa  to  request  the  papal  beoedietion  and  the  title 
of  king.  The  pope,  Sylvester  II.,  sent  him  in  return 
a  royal  diadem,  and  a  tross  lo   bo  homo  before  his 


8T,  LEOPOLD  OF  AUSTRIA.  ^23 

army.  This  crown  was  preserved  at  Presburg,  ?iid  is 
the  same  which  was  placed  oa  the  fair  head  of  Maria 
Theresa  oa  the  memorable  day  of  her  coronation. 
What  may  have  become  of  it  since  1848  I  do  not 
know. 

St.  Stephen  married  Gisela,  the  sister  of  St.  Henry, 
a  princess  "  full  of  most  blessed  conditions."  Unhap- 
pily, all  their  children  died  before  their  parents.  The 
eldest  son,  a  yonth  of  singular  beauty  of  person  and 
great  promise,  is  styled  St  Emeric  by  the  Hungarians, 
and  associated  with  his  father  as  an  object  of  reyerential 
worship. 

St.  Stephen  is  considered  as  the  apostle  and  legislator 
of  Hungary.  In  common  with  those  saints  who  have 
triumphed  over  paganism,  he  bears  the  standard  with 
the  cross ;  and  is  usually  represented  with  this  attribute, 
dressed  in  complete  armor,  wearing  the  kingly  crown, 
and  holding  the  sacred  sword,  which  was  also  preserved 
among  the  regalia  of  Hungary.  He  is  introduced  into 
groups  of  the  Blessed  where  the  object  has  been  to  com- 
pliment those  sovereigns  of  Spain  or  Austria  who  were 
connected  with  Hungary ;  but  I  do  not  recollect  ever 
meeting  with  him  in  Italian  art. 

A  picture  in  the  Vienna  Gallery,  and  which  appears 
to  have  been  painted  for  Maria  Theresa,  represents  St. 
Stephen  receiving  the  crown  sent  to  him  by  Pope  Syl- 
vester in  1003. 


St.  Leopol":),  margrave  of  Austria,  was  bom  in 
1080.  In  1106  he  married  Agnes,  the  beautiful  and 
youthful  widow  of  Frederic,  duke  of  Suabia ;  by  her, 
he  was  the  father  of  eighteen  children,  eleven  of  whom 
survived  him  ;  and,  after  a  long  and  most  prosperous 
reign,  he  died  in  1136. 

The  virtues  of  this  prince  were  certainly  conspicuous 
in  the  age  in  which  ho  lived.     The  history  of  his  life 


114  tJ:<iE.VDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEJU 


rcspoiuiliilitj  M  B  gave] 


It  h«  had  a  deep  religion 


%  tnoivifUl  and  kindly  diaposicia 


irofm 


;  bal  ihcw  V 


I 


I  many  more,  would  not,  in  all  probabilll}',  I 
pirHTored  bim  tlie  bonora  at  a  saint,  had  he  noc  Ibanded 
during  bis  lifelime  tbe  magniliroDt  monaBlery  of  Klos- 
Icr-Nenborg,  on  the  bonks  of  ibe  Danube.  It  is  related 
that,  on  a  certain  daj,  soon  after  tbeir  mairiaee,  Leo- 
pold aod  Agnca  Btood  in  the  Lalconj  of  iheir  palace  oa 
the  Leopoldsberg  (a  site  well  known  to  tbogo  who  haTS 
nuidod  in  Vienna),  and  tbey  looked  round  ibcm  orer 
tbe  valley  of  tbe  Danube,  from  the  barden  of  Bohemia 
on  one  side,  to  tbs  confines  of  Hungary  an  tbe  other, 
with  the  city  of  Ylennn  lying  cloie  at  their  feet.  And, 
aa  tliey  staod  there,  band  in  hand,  they  vowed  to  com- 
laetQorete  their  love,  and  their  gratitude  to  Hearen  who 
bad  given  them  to  each  other,  [)y  building;  and  enilowing 
an  edilim  for  tbe  service  of  God.  Just  then  the  breem 
CBUglit  and  lilted  tlio  bridal  veil  of  Agnes,  and  it  went 
floating  away  upon  tbe  air  till  lost  to  view.  About 
eight  years  aftorwards,  as  Leupold  was  hunting  in  tbe 
neighboring  forest,  he  saw  at  a  diatnnoe  a  white  and 
glittering  object  aiiBpendod  from  n  troo  ;  and,  on  spur- 
ring his  barbo  towards  it,  be  rer?ogni/L>d  the  veil  of 
Agnes,  and  recollected  Eheic  joint  vow.  He  immc- 
diataly  ordered  the  wildemesa  to  bo  cleared,  and  on 
that  spot  arose  the  Kloster-Neubiug ;  around  it,  a  once 
flourishing  town,  aod  some  of  the  richest  and  moat  pro- 
ductive vineyards  iu  Austria.  Tbia  convent,  when  I 
visited  it  some  yeara  ago,  wb«  a  seminary;  the  old 
Gothic  church  and  cloisters  had  hven  partly  rchoilt  in 
"  e  taste ;  but 


the  libraiy  waa 


siill  flue  and  e: 


1,  and  the  veil  of 


Agnes  and  the  sbrino  of  St.  Leopold  were  iAen  preaoi 
among  llie  treasures  of  the  place. 

It  waa  at  tbe  request  of  the  monks  of  Kloster-KctihlB 
that  Leopold  was  canonized  by  Pope  It 


8T.  LEOPOLD  OF  AUSTRIA.  225 

he  is  represented  in  German  art:  I  have  never  met 
with  him  in  an  Italian  picture.  His  canonization  was 
celebrated  with  great  pomp,  and  he  became  popular  as 
a  saint  all  over  Germany  just  before  the  Reformation, 
and  at  the  time  when  Mabuse,  Lucas  Cranach,  Albert 
Diirer,  L.  van  Lejden,  and  other  early  German  artists, 
flourished.  In  the  Vienna  Gallery  are  two  devotional 
figures  of  St.  Leopold.  One  of  these,  attributed  to 
Holbein,  represents  him  standing,  as  prince  and  saint, 
in  complete  armor,  with  a  glory  round  his  head,  and 
a  coral  rosary  in  his  hand.  The  other,  by  Lucas 
Cranach,  also  represents  him  in  complete  armor,  with 
spear  and  shield,  and  in  companionship  with  St.  Jerome, 
who  in  the  old  pictures  is  often  the  representative  of  a 
life  of  religious  seclusion,  —  of  "the  cloister,"  in  its 
general  sense.  They  are  placed  together  as  the  patrons 
of  the  Kloster-Neuburg,  whence,  I  presume,  this  picture 
originally  came. 

There  is  a  fine  woodcut  by  Albert  Diirer,  executed 
in  compliment  to  his  patron  the  Emperor  Maximilian, 
and  representing  the  eight  guardian  saints  of  Austria. 
Among  them  stands  St.  Leopold,  wearing  his  ducal 
crown  (with  which  crown,  brought  from  Kloster-Neu- 
burg for  the  purpose,  I  saw  the  ex-Emperor  Ferdinand 
crowned  Archduke  of  Austria  in  1835).  The  others 
are,  —  St.  Quirinus,  as  bishop;  St.  Maximilian,  as 
bishop  and  martyr;  St.  Florian  the  martyr,  in  com- 
plete armor;  St.  Severinus,  an  obscure  saint,  con- 
sidered as  the  first  apostle  of  Austria  (whose  relics  are 
honored  at  San  Severino  in  Naples),  in  the  Benedictine 
habit;  St.  Coloman,  as  pilgrim  (one  of  the  earliest 
missionaries ) ;  St.  Poppo,  as  abbot  of  Stavelo  (of 
whom  it  is  recorded  that  he  persuaded  the  Emperor  St. 
Henry  to  abolish  the  barbarous  combats  between  men 
and  beasts  ) ;  and  St.  Otho,  as  bishop  of  Bamberg. 

Another  rare  and  curious  woodcut  by  Albert  Diirer 
represents  the  Emperor  Maximilian  on  his  knees  before 
the  First  Person  of  the  Trinity,  who  stands  on  a  raised 
throne,  arrayed  as  a  high-priest  and  holding  the  orb  of 


I 


tl6  LEGENDS  Of   TBE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

(OTemgntr-  Beside  MsximiUaD  lUndi  tlwi  Virgin 
wiih  the  influil  Chrlat ;  kIib  ii  utjing,  "  Lard,  sava  the 
laiuj,iuid  hear  lu  tsAoi  u.«  aiUupon  l/iee.'  "  St.  Andrew, 
lesnineoo  liisJDwetledcrou;  St.  Barbara;  St.  George; 
Sc  t«upotil :  St,  Sobutias,  and  Si.  MojcimiUan,  appear 
to  be  aaoisting  the  nuiperor  id  hu  devotions. 


St.  Ferdinaxo  or  Castilb*  was  Ibe  Eon  of  Al- 
phonso,  biag  of  Leon,  and  Bcriin(;nrta  of  CaHile,  After 
a  anion  of  eevcral  years,  and  the  hinh  of  four  children, 
AlphonsD  aod  Berengaria  were  Beparaced  hj  a  decree 
of  ilie  pope,  because,  being  within  the  prohibited  de- 
grees of  coDBBnguiuitf,  tliey  had  married  without  a 
diepeaaBtioD.  Their  children  were,  however,  deckrEd 
legitimate.  Berengana  retnraed  to  her  father,  ibe  king 
of  Castile,  and  lived  retired  in  his  coart ;  hut  she  exer- 
cised daring  her  whole  life  on  exiraordinary  iDflaence 
over  the  mind  of  her  eldest  son,  Ferdinand,  and  his 
obcdieuM  to  her  even  to  tlio  hanr  of  his  death  waa  that 
of  a  docile  ehild.  When  Bcrengaria  sncceeded  to  ihe 
tlirone  of  Castile  site  gave  np  her  rights  to  her  son,  and 
Bhortly  afterwards  un  tlie  deatli  of  his  father  he  eue- 
ceeded  to  the  tiirono  of  Leon,  thus  unitiog  forever  the 
two  kingdoms ;  and  from  thin  time  it  ma;  be  taid 
that  Bereugoria  and  her  son  leigncd  together,  euth 
complete  nnioo  existed  bctwevn  them.  Ho  married 
Joan,  CounlesB  of  I'ontliieu ;  aod  she  vied  witii  h«r  hns- 
band  in  duly  and  love  to  the  queen-mother.  In  read- 
ing the  chronicles  of  the  royal  houses  of  Spain,  the 
murders,  troasonB,  tragedies,  which  meet  iia  in  every 
page,  it  is  refreshing  to  come  upon  this  record  of  du- 
mesllc  confideQce,  fidelity,  and  al^tion,  lasting  through 
a  long  series  <if  ycarB :  we  feci  there  must  have  been 
admirable  qnalllle!!,  shall  1  say  minllg  qnalities,  on 
which  this  peai.'e  and  trust  and  tenderness  were  founded. 
But  history  does  not  dwell  upon  them  :  and  St  Ferdi- 


*  £1  Suto  R«y,  Dad  FemuulD  III. 


D,  llli2,  May  30, 


BT,  FERDINAND   OF  CASTILE,         227 

Hand  owed  his  canonization  less  to  his  virtaes  than  to 
his  implacable  enmity  a^nst  the  Moors.  Mr.  Ford,* 
who  is  not  given  to  praising  saints,  styles  him  "the 
best  of  kings,  and  bravest  of  warriors."  His  piety,  if 
tinctured  with  the  ferocious  fanaticism  of  the  times,  was 
conscientious,  and  the  nature  of  Ferdinand  was  neither 
ambitious  nor  cruel.  He  had  made  a  solemn  vow  never 
to  draw  his  sword  in  Christian  conflict,  and  in  his  wars 
against  the  infidels  he  was  constantly  victorious.  More- 
over, it  is  related  in  the  Spanish  chronicles,  that,  at  the 
great  battle  of  Xeres,  Santiago  himself  appeared  visibly 
at  the  head  of  his  troops,  combating  for  him,  and,  while 
thousands  of  the  Moors  were  left  dead  on  the  field,  on 
the  side  of  the  Christians  there  fell  but  one  knight,  who 
had  refused  before  the  battle  to  pardon  an  injury. 

But  neither  his  victories,  nor  his  magniflcent  religious 
foundations,  leave  so  pleasing  an  impression  of  the 
character  of  Ferdinand  as  one  speech  recorded  of  him. 
When  he  was  urged  to  replenish  his  exhausted  cofiers 
and  recruit  his  army  by  laying  a  new  tax  on  his  people, 
he  rejected  the  counsel  with  indignation.  "  God,"  said 
he,  "  in  whose  cause  I  fight,  will  supply  my  need.  I 
fear  more  the  curse  of  one  poor  old  wonjan  than  a 
whole  army  of  Moors ! " 

Afler  driving  the  infidels  from  Toledo,  Cordova,  and 
Seville,  he  was  meditating  an  expedition  into  Africa, 
when  he  was  seized  with  sickness,  and  died  as  a  Chris- 
tian penitent,  a  cord  round  his  neck  and  the  crucifix  in 
his  hand.  He  was  buried  in  the  Cathedral  of  Seville, 
and  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Alphonso  the  Wise,  in 
1152.  His  only  daughter,  Eleonora  of  Castile,  who 
inherited  the  piety  and  courage  of  her  sainted  father, 
married  our  Edward  I.  She  it  was  who  sucked  the 
poison  from  her  husband's  wound. 

It  was  not  till  1668  that  Ferdinand  was  canonized 
by  Clement  IX.  at  the  request  of  Philip  IV.,  and  "  the 
greatest  religious  festival  ever  held  at  Seville"  took 

*  Handbook  of  Spain. 


I 


I 


tig   LEGJiKDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

plure  in  ISTl  on  the  anival  of  the  pope's  boll.  Of 
Kjane  iho  pirtnrca  of  him  u  taint  hk  mnfiped  ID  Spain, 
or  al  least  to  Spanish  an,  and  ran  date  onl;  IVom  thli 
lale  period.  Bat  tho  Spanish  achool  of  Seville  wu 
Ihcn  ID  all  its  glory,  and  a9  i^ilip  IV.  was  a  munifi- 
eenl  patron  of  art,  ttie  painten  liaiiened  lo  gratifji  him 
bj  iDultipIyini;  effigies  of  l)is  sainted  ancestor. 

8l~  Ferdinand,  m  Mr.  Stirling  tells  ns  in  his  beanti- 
fnl  book,*  founded  the  Cathedral  of  Bnrgos,  "whiiJl 
points  to  heaven  with  spires  more  rich  nod  delicate  tlian 
any  that  crown  the  cities  of  the  imperial  Rhine.  Ho 
also  begun  to  rebaltd  the  Cathedral  of  Toledo,  n'hera 
during  firar  hundred  yeniB  nrtista  swarmed  and  hiliored 
llkolices;  and  splendid  prelates  lavished  their  princely 
revoDoes  to  moke  fair  and  glorious  the  lemplo  of  God 
inlmaled  to  their  core."  There  is  preserved  in  the 
Convent  of  San  Clcraente,  at  Seville,  a  portrait  of  St/ 
Ferdinand,  "a  work  of  venerable  aspect,  of  a  dark 
dingy  color,  and  ornamented  with  gilding" ;  reckoned 
authentic  and  contemporary.  When  Ferdinand  VH. 
in  1823  wished  to  borrow  this  portrait  for  the  purpose 
of  having  it  copied,  ilie  nuns  of  San  Clemcnte  woald 
not  allow  it  to  leave  their  custody. 

Devodoi:ial  pictures  of  San  Fernando  represent  him 
in  complete  armor,  over  which  is  thrown  a  regal  man- 
tle :  he  wears  the  kingly  crown,  aurmounted  b;  the 
celestial  glory.  He  has  Bometiraes  a  drawn  sword  in 
his  hand,  sometimes  it  is  tbe  orb  of  sovereignty.  Id 
the  arms  of  the  cit;  of  Seville  ho  is  tlironcd  as  patron 
sainl,  with  the  two  famous  bishops  St.  Isidore  and  Sd' 
Lauriimo  on  cither  aide.  ' 

There  are  five  pictures  of  Saji  Fomnndo  by  Murillo  J« 
one  of  them,  a  fine  head,  is  supposed  to  be  a  copy  of'' 
the  portrait  in  San  Clemcnle. 

In  tho  Spanish  galiery  of  the  Lonvre  arc  two  figoiBS 
of  St.  Ferdinand,  attributed  to  Znrharan,  but  probably 
by  some  later  painter.  I  remllect  a  fine  San  Fernando 
the  Spaniah  pictures  in  the  possession  of  Lord 


i 

4 


8T,  CASIMIR  OF  POLAND,  229 

Clarendon.  Another  pictare  in  my  list  I  most  men- 
tion, from  its  characteristic  Spanish  feeling ;  "  St.  Ferdi* 
nand  bringing  a  fagot  to  bam  a  heretic/'  by  Yald^s. 

Of  St.  Casimir  of  Poland  there  is  nothing  to  be  re- 
marked except  his  enthusiastic  piety  and  his  early  death. 
He  was  the  third  son  of  Casimir  IV.  of  Poland,  and 
Elizabeth  of  Austria ;  and,  from  his  childhood,  a  gentle- 
spirited  and  studious  boy,  whom  no  influence,  or  teach- 
ing, or  example  could  rouse  to  active  pursuits,  or  waken 
to  ambition,  or  excite  to  pleasures :  and  thus  he  grew 
up  in  his  father's  half-barbarous  court,  and  among  his 
warlike  brothers,  a  being  quite  of  a  different  order ;  a 
poet,  too,  in  his  way,  composing  himself  the  hymns  he 
sung  or  recited  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  and  the  saints. 
After  refusing  the  crown  of  Hungary,  he  became  more 
and  more  retired  and  austere  in  his  habits.  At  length 
he  fell  into  a  decline,  and  died  in  1483.  He  was  can- 
onized by  Leo  X.,  at  the  request  of  his  brother  Sigis- 
mond  the  Great ;  and  became  patron  saint  of  Poland. 
He  is  represented  as  a  youth  in  regal  attire ;  a  lily  in 
his  hand,  a  crown  and  sceptre  at  his  feet.  Or,  he  holds 
in  his  hand  his  hymn  to  the  Virgin,  beginning, 

«OmniDie 
DicMarisD 
Mea  laadea  anima  1  ** 

while  the  lily  and  the  crown  lie  on  a  table  beside  him ; 
as  in  an  elegant  little  picture  by  Carlo  Dolce.  When 
Casimir  V.  abdicated  the  crown  of  Poland,  and  became 
abbot  of  the  Benedictine  convent  of  St.  Germain-des- 
Pr^s  at  Paris,  he  introduced  the  worship  of  his  patron 
saint,  and  the  young  St.  Casimir  is  often  found  in 
French  prints. 

Other  Royal  Saints  who  are  particularly  connected 
with  the  Mendicant  Orders  will  be  found  in  their  proper 
place. 


I 


Order  haa   been  s 


I 


» 


)HE   AngoBtin 
tcaitcred,  iu 

been  broken  up  into  bo  many  denominit- 
ind  the  primidve  rule  bo  vikriously 
it  h  dif!tca1i  to  consider  the  whole  cora- 
nunitf  as  one  body  of  men,  aniniBted  by  one  spirit, 
and  impregacd  with  a  ronain  dcflDile  characier,  aa  ia 
tin  case  with  the  Benedictines,  and  Franciscans,  and 
the  Dominicans. 

There  ia  no  occasion  to  enter  into  the  mach-dispnted 
qneition  of  the  origin  of  this  bmotis  Order.    Id  traoing 
its  history  in  connection  with  art,  it  is  BufGcienl  to  keep 
in  mind  the  only  two  facia  which,  on  looking  o 
best  eccleaiaatical  authorities,  eland  oat  clear  and  intal- I 
ligible  before  m 

L  The  Angualinea  cloiin  as  their  founder  and  patri 
arch  the  grcHl  Doctor  and  Father  of  the  Chnrch,  Bt 
Augustine ;  and  in  every  language  they  bear  hja  namojiB 
in   Italian,   Agostini,   Padri  AgaAini     *     -      - 

It  ia  related  in  his  Life,  that  he  Hascmbled  together  ' 
a  number  of  persona  religiously  and  charitably  disposed, 
who  solemnly  reuounued  the  ceres  and  vanitiea  of  thia 
world,  threw  their  posseBEions  into  a  common  stock, 

themselves  to 


of  the  poor.     Similar 


of  w 


THE  AUGUSTINES.  231 

were  likewise  formed  under  his  auspices ;  and  such, 
they  aver,  was  the  origin  of  the  "  rule  of  St.  Angus- 
tine." 

n.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  not  clear  that  this  great 
Father  and  Teacher  of  the  Church  contemplated  the 
institution  of  a  religious  Order  such  as  was  founded  hj 
St.  Basil  in  the  East  and  afterwards  by  St.  Benedict  in 
the  West ;  or  that  any  such  Order  existed  until  the 
middle  of  the  ninth  century.  About  that  period,  all 
the  various  denominations  of  the  Christian  clergy  who 
had  not  entered  the  ranks  of  monachism  —  priests,  can- 
ons, clerks,  &c.  —  were  incorporated,  by  the  decrees  of 
Pope  Leo  III.  and  the  Emperor  Lothaire,  into  one 
great  community,  and  received  as  their  rule  of  disci- 
pline that  which  was  promulgated  by  St.  Augustine. 
Thenceforward,  we  have  the  regular  and  secular  canons 
( Canonici  regolari  e  secolari)  of  Augustine ;  and  all 
those  personages  who  had  been  dedicated  to  a  holy  life, 
or  to  the  duties  of  the  priesthood,  in  the  first  centuries 
after  the  apostolic  ages,  were  retrospectively  included 
in  the  Augustine  community. 

In  the  time  of  Innocent  IV.,  all  the  hermits,  soli- 
taries, and  small  separate  confraternities,  who  lived 
under  no  recognized  discipline,  were  registered  and  in- 
corporated by  a  decree  of  the  Church,  and  reduced 
under  one  rule,  called  the  rule  of  St.  Augustine,  with 
some  more  strict  clauses  introduced,  fitting  the  new 
ideas  of  a  conventual  life.  There  was  some  difficulty 
in  compelling  these  outlying  brethren  to  accept  a  uni- 
form rule  and  habit,  and  bind  themselves  by  monastic 
vows.  Innocent  IV.  died  before  he  had  completed  his 
reform,  but  Alexander  IV.  carried  out  his  purpose; 
not,  however,  without  calling  a  miracle  to  his  assist- 
ance, for  just  at  the  critical  moment,  St.  Augustine 
himself  deigned  to  appear :  he  was  dressed  in  a  long 
black  gown,  tattered  and  torn,  in  sign  of  poverty  and 
humility^ ;  round  his  waist  he  wore  a  leathern  strap  and 
buckle,  and  carried  in  his  hand  a  scourge ;  and  he 
gave  the  pope  to  understand,  that  the  oontamadons 


I 


1  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

to  take  rorthwilh  iha  Angnstiiie  haUl,  uid 
tnbmit  tbcmselres  to  iltc  monutic  role,  ondei  pain  of 
the  SFonrgc,  freelj  anil  not  mAaphoriatBii  appii<d. 
length  thme  Emttcred  memben  vera  brontlht  inlc 
roiBaion,  and  the  wbote  uoileil  iato  one  gmu  roll 
body,  ander  the  name  of  Enmiti  or  Sreniilmi  Aj 
bennile  or  friora  of  St.  Angnaiine ;  in  Engliih,  Ai 
Friars,     (a.  d.  IS84.)     Thi^   was   about    fort 
after  tbe  iotrodoctioD  of  the  JTraDciwaiu  add 

The  AngusIiDes,  as  I  have  observed,  branch  out 
a  great  variety  of  deuominaCioDa ;  and  tbe  mle  ' 
aidered  aa  tha  parent  rule  of  all  the  monaalic  orders  aai 
religiona  congrcgationG  not  inclnded  in  the  Benedictine 
inscitDtion,  and  to  niunber  among  ila  members  all  the 
distinguished  clmrBclera  and  reclnaes  who  lived  from 
the  fourth  to  the  aixth  ceniorj. 

The  first  great  saint  of  the  Order  who  fignrrs  as  a 
subject  of  art  is  uf  course  St.  Augustine  himself,  whose 
efflgy  li  generally  c^onsjiifuons  in  the  bouses  and  con- 
TentuaJ  churches  bearing  liis  natne:  nut  chiefly  as  one 
of  the  four  Latin  Fathers  (in  this  character  he  ia  to  be 
fbnnd  in  most  religious  ediSces),  but  more  especially  as 
patriarch  and  founder  of  the  Augoatine  Order :  not  aJ- 
waja  in  tbe  rich  episcopal  cope  and  mitre,  but  with  the 
black  Grock,  leathern  ^rdle,  and  ebavon  crown  of  an 
Augustine  friar  ;  not  seated  with  tbe  other  great  Fathers 
in  coUoqay  sublinie  on  the  mysleriea  and  doctrines  of 
the  Chnrch,  but  diapenung  alms,  or  waehing  the  feet  of 
oar  Saviour  under  Ore  gniao  of  a  pilgrim  ;  or  giving  the 
written  mle  to  the  friars  of  his  Order ;  or  to  the  yorioua 
religiouHcommunities,  who,a9  Lanzi  expresses  it,  "Ggbt 
tmder  his  banner,  —  mititano  soUo  la  sua  bandiera."  All 
these  sulfjecls  I  have  already  discussed  at  length,*  with 
reference  to  the  life  and  character  of  St.  Auguuline  as  a 
Father  of  tbe  Chorch;  and,  therefore,  I  shall  say  no 
I  of  them  here. 


ST.  PATRICK  AND  ST.  BRIDGET, 


^33 


St.  Monica,  the  mother  of  St.  Augustine,  is  also  a 
fiiYorite  subject  in  the  pictures  painted  for  this  Order. 
She  18  usually  considered  as  the  first  Augustine  nun. 
In  the  Santo-Spirito  at  Florence,  which  belongs  to  the 
£reiiuh-Agostiniani,  we  find  St.  Monica  seated  on  a 
throne,  surrounded  by  twelve  women  of  the  Capponi 
family,  and  in  another  chapel  of  the  same  church  she 
and  her  son  stand  together. 

St.  Antony  and  St.  Paul,  the  primitive  hermits,  with 
all  the  curious  legends  relating  to  them,  are  generally 
to  be  found  in  the  edifices  of  the  Augustine  Friars,  either 
as  examples  of  hermit  life,  or  as  belonging  to  the  com- 
munity. Of  these  ancient  worthies  I  have  already 
spoken  at  length  in  a  former  volume.* 

The  Augustine  writers  also  number  among  the  early 
saints  of  their  Order  St.  Patrick  and  St.  Bridget  of  Ire- 
land. It  is  true  that  nearly  every  vestige  of  these  two 
memorable  personages  has  been  destroyed  or  mutilated ; 
but  not  the  less  do  they  live  in  the  hearts  of  the  people, 
familiar  names  in  their  household  talk,  mixed  up  with 
many  wild,  strange,  incongruous  legends,  but  still  repre- 
senting to  them  the  traditions  of  their  ancient  civiliza- 
tion ;  the  memories  of  better  times,  before  their  religion 
was  proscribed  and  their  country  confiscated. 

St.  Patrick  (▲.  D.  464),  who  styles  himself  "  a  Briton 
and  a  Boman,"  was  carried  away  captive  into  Ireland 
when  a  youth  of  sixteen,  and  was  set  to  tend  the  herds 
of  his  master.  Being  bom  of  Christian  parents,  he 
turned  his  misfortune  to  good  account,  making  his  cap- 
tivity a  school  of  patience  and  humility.  The  benighted 
condition  of  the  people  among  whom  he  dwelt  filled  him 
with  compassion;  and  when  afterwards  he  made  his 
escape  and  was  restored  to  his  parents  and  his  home,  he 
was  haunted  by  visions,  in  which  he  beheld  the  yet  un- 
born children  of  these  Irish  pagans  stretching  forth  their 
little  hands  and  crying  to  him  for  salvation.     So  he  re* 

*  Sacred  and  Legendarj  Art 


»j4  LlGEffUS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORUKSO? 

nrned  w  Irclani],  having  flm  received  hi*  mission  from 
TopB  Celmtino,  wni  prcarhHl  tlio  Word  of  Giid ;  enffer. 
in)*  with  patinnce  M  indipiitivs.  aflrunting  all  dimgeTB 
sii'l  rfttiguiM  nitb  inviadble  roanige,  coaverting  arery- 
whero  thouaindg  bj  his  preacbing  anil  cxsmpie,  Bod 
Kaiaing  over  monj  dicdpln  who  assisted  him  most 
zrnloual]'  in  the  iBatt  of  instnicting  uut  ronvcrting  these 
bnrbariaiu.  He  himself  preached  the  kingdom  of  CbrUt 
liefora  the  usemblcd  king*  and  chieb  at  Tara;  and 
though  Nicl!,  the  chief  monarcli,  refused  to  listen  to 
him,  lie  ioon  aficrwards  baptized  the  kings  of  Dnbliu 
and  Mnnster ;  and  tlie  seven  sons  of  the  king  of  Con- 
naoght.  After  forty  years  of  nnromitting  labor  in  teach- 
ing and  preaching,  bo  left  Ireland  not  only  Chriatianiied, 
but  fall  of  religions  aelioolg  and  fonndaiionE,  which  be- 
caiDe  famous  in  Western  Europe  and  sent  forth  crowds 
of  learned  men  and  tnissionaricH  ;  and  having  ihui 
fonnded  the  Chnrch  of  Ireland,  and  placed  its  chief 
seat  at  Armagh,  he  died  and  was  buried  at  Domi,  in 
the  province  of  tTlater. 

The  story  of  St.  Patrick  exorcising  the  venomons 
reptiles  from  his  adopted  conntry  has  the  same  origin 
as  the  dragon  legends  of  tlie  East,  and  the  same  signifi- 
cation. It  is  merely  one  form  of  the  familiar  allegory 
figuring  the  conquest  of  good  over  evil,  or  the  triumph 
of  Chrialianity  over  Pagaoisra. 

It  is  reUtad  that  St.  Patrick  consecraled  many  wo- 
men to  the  service  of  Grod,  finding  them  everywhere 
even  raoro  ready  to  receive  the  truth  than  the  men ;  and 
among  these,  was  St.  Bridget  or  Brigida.  The  inotiiar 
of  this  &moas  saint  was  a  beautiful  captive,  whom  her 
fether,  a  powerftil  chieftain,  bad  taken  in  war.  The 
Intimate  wife  of  the  chief  became  jealous  of  her  slave, 
and  cast  her  out  of  the  house  like  another  Hagai.  So 
abe  brought  forth  bcr  child  io  sorrow  and  shame;  bnt 
two  holy  men,  diaciplea  of  St.  Patrick,  took  pity  on  her, 
baptized  hcc  and  her  daughter,  —  and  Bridget  gn 
in  wisdom  and  beanty,  and  became  so  famous  i 
land,  that  her  falhec  took  her  home,  and  wished  u 


8T.  PATRICK  AND  ST.  BRIDGET,      235 

married  her  to  a  neighboring  chief,  but  Bridget  ^ould 
not  hear  of  marriage.  She  devoted  herself  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  the  ministry  of  the  poor,  and  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  people,  particularly  those  of  her  own  sex ; 
and  retired  to  a  solitary  place,  where  was  a  grove  of 
oaks,  which  had  once  been  dedicated  to  the  false  gods. 
There  she  taught  and  preached,  healing  the  sick,  and 
restoring  sight  to  the  blind ;  and  such  was  the  fame  of 
her  sanctity  and  her  miraculous  power,  that  vast  crowds 
congregated  to  that  place,  and  built  themselves  huts 
and  cells  that  they  might  dwell  in  her  vicinity ;  and, 
particularly,  many  women  joined  themselves  to  her, 
partaking  of  her  labors,  and  imitating  her  example : 
and  this  was  the  first  community  of  religious  women  in' 
Ireland.  Kildare,  "  the  cell  or  place  of  the  oak,"  be- 
came afterwards  one  of  the  most  celebrated  convents 
and  most  flourishing  cities  in  Ireland.  Here  was  pre- 
served, unextinguished,  for  many  centuries,  the  sacred 
lamp  which  burned  before  her  shrine. 

The  Church  of  St.  Patrick  and  St.  Bridget,  at  Down, 
was  destroyed  by  Sir  Leonard  Grey  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VTH.  Other  memorials  of  these  patrons  per- 
ished in  the  desolating  wars  of  Elizabeth ;  and  whatever 
religious  relics,  dear  and  venerable  to  the  hearts  of  the 
Irish,  may  have  survived  the  first  period  of  the  Refor- 
mation were  utterly  swept  away  by  the  savage  Puritans 
under  Cromwell.  In  London  the  name  of  St.  Bridget 
survives  in  the  beautiful  Church  of  St.  Bride  in  Fleet 
Street,  and  the  Palace  (now  the  Prison)  of  Bridewell. 

In  any  pictured  memorial  of  the  former  civilization 
and  spiritual  glories  of  Ireland,  if  such  should  ever  be 
called  for,  St.  Patrick  and  St.  Bridget  ought  to  find  a 
place ;  for  they  represent  not  merely  the  Church  of  the 
Roman  Catholics,  but  the  first  planting  of  the  Church 
of  Christ  in  a  land  till  then  filled  with  the  darkest  idola- 
try ;  and  the  two  should  always  stand  together. 

St.  Patrick  may  be  represented  in  two  ways ;  either 
«8  missionary  and  apostle,  or  as  the  first  bishop  and 
primate  of  the  Church  of  Ireland. 


tjfi  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEi 

As  the  Apoitle  of  Ireland  be  ooght  to  wear  a  gown 
with  ■  hrad,  and  n  lenthem  f^iriile  ;  in  one  hand  a  itaS 
and  wallot,  in  the  other  ihv  Gospel  of  Christ :  lie  should 
not  be  represented  old,  becaiue,  though  dates  are  very 
DDcertaia,  it  is  most  probable  that  he  was  still  a  joimg 
man  when  he  first  cnmo  to  Irelaad.  At  hii  feet  or  un- 
der hie  fact  should  be  a  Bcrpeut,  The  standard  with 
the  cross,  the  proper  attribute  of  the  miasioaar;  stdala 
who  ovcreome  idolatrj,  would  also  belong  to  him. 

As  Bisbop  he  should,  wear  the  usual  episropaj  insig- 
nia,, the  mitre,  the  cope,  the  crosier ;  the  Gospel  in  his 
hand,  and  at  bis  side  a  neophyte  looking  up  to  him  with 


St.  Bridget  may  also  ho  represented  ia  two  diflerent 
characters.  She  may  wear  tbe  ample  robe  and  long 
white  veil  always  given  to  the  female  Chriatian  con- 
verts ;  in  one  hand  the  cross,  in  the  other  tbc  lamp,  — 
typical  at  ouce  of  heavenly  light  or  wisdom  (as  in  the 
band  of  St.  Lucia),  and  also  her  proper  attribute  as 
represeuting 


and  which  her  female  disciples  watcbcd  with  as  much 
devotion  as  the  vestal  virgias  of  old  the  sacred  fire. 
Ad  oak-tree  or  a  grove  of  oalts  should  be  placed  in  the 
background- 
She  may  also  he  represented  as  first  Abbess  of  Kil- 
dare  ;  and  en  this  abbey  became  al^rwards  a  famous 
Franciscan  community,  St.  Bridget  might  with  pro- 
priety be  reptesentod  as  the  Iriab  St.  Clara,  in  the  long 
gixy  habit  and  black  hood,  heariog  tbe  pastoral  etafi". 
This  would  be  much  tesa  appropriate  as  well  as  less 
pictaresque  than  tlie  former  representation,  hut  I  believe 
tbe  old  uffigies  would  thus  exhibit  her. 


ST.  NICHOLAS  OF  TOLENTINO,        237 

He  was  born  aboat  the  year  1239,  in  the  little  town 
of  St.  Angelo,  near  Fermo.  His  parents  having  ob- 
tained a  son  through  the  intercession  of  St.  Nicholas, 
bestowed  on  him  the  name  of  the  beneficent  bishop, 
and  dedicated  him  to  the  service  of  Grod.  He  assumed 
the  habit  of  an  Augustine  friar  in  very  early  youth ;  and 
was  distinguished  by  his  fervent  devotion  and  extraor- 
dinary austerities,  so  that  it  was  said  of  him  that  "  he 
did  not  livBy  but  languished  through  life."  He  was  also 
an  eloquent  preacher,  and  unwearied  in  his  ministry. 
As  for  his  miracles,  his  visions,  and  his  revelations, 
they  are  not  to  be  enumerated.  He  died  in  1309,  and 
was  canonized  by  Pope  Eugenius  IV.  in  1446. 

According  to  the  legend,  the  future  eminence  and 
sanctity  of  this  saint  were  foretold  by  a  star  of  wonder- 
ful splendor  which  shot  through  the  heavens  from  Sant' 
Angelo,  where  he  was  bom,  and  stood  over  the  city  of 
Tolentino,  where  he  afterwards  fixed  his  residence. 
For  this  reason  the  devotional  effigies  of  St.  Nicholas 
of  Tolentino  represent  him  in  the  black  habit  of  his 
Order,  with  a  star  on  his  breast;  and  sometimes  he 
carries  the  Gospel  as  preacher  of  the  Word,  and  a  cru- 
cifix wreathed  with  a  lily,  —  the  type  of  his  penances 
and  his  purity  of  life.  He  is  generally  young,  of  a  dark 
complexion,  and  an  ardent  meagre  physiognomy. 

There  is  a  fine  statue  of  this  saint  by  Sansovino. 
(Fl.  Santo-Spirito.) 

"  St.  Nicholas  of  Tolentino  crowned  by  the  Virgin 
and  St.  Augustine,*'  is  a  picture  attributed  to  Raphael. 

A  charming  little  picture  by  Mazzolino  da  Ferrara 
(Nat.  Gal.),  exhibiting  all  his  characteristics,  represents 
St.  Nicholas  of  Tolentino  kneeling  before  the  Virgin 
and  Child.  The  head  of  the  saint  is  a  masterpiece  of 
finish  and  expression,  but  has  not  the  wasted  nor  the 
youthful  features  generally  given  to  him. 

It  is  related  of  this  St.  Nicholas  that  he  never  tasted 
animal  food.  In  his  last  illness,  when  weak  and  wasted 
firom  inanition,  his  brethren  brought  him  a  dish  of  doves 


13K  LEGEXDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDESt 

U>  rMiore  his  airength.  The  eaim  reproved  them,  and 
painriilly  rauin);  liimself  on  hU  ronth,  stretched  his 
hsnd  overllic  doves,  whereupon  thejrose  from  thedUh 
and  flew  away.  Thi«  logenil  ia  the  8ulyei>t  of  a  smal) 
bnt  Teiy  pTGlt}'  piclnre  by  Garafalo.  (Leaditcnbei^ 
Gal.) 

AoolUer  picture  by  the  same  painter  represents  St. 
Nicholas  restoring  lo  life  &  cliiid  laid,  at  bis  (bet  by  iu 
disconsolale  mother. 

"In  ibe  year  1603,  tha  ciij  of  CordoYSi  was  Tisiird 
by  tha  pbigne ;  aod  the  Goicmor.  Don  DlEpo  de  Var- 
gas, caused  the  imago  of  St.  Nicholas  of  Totcniino  (it 
wiu  the  day  of  his  testiral)  to  be  ranied  through  the 
slreels  in  Eolemn  pioceaanoa  to  the  Lazaretto.  Father 
O  de  Unvas  met  the  procession,  bearing  a  targe  cruci- 
fix ;  thereupon  tho  saint  streEched  (brth  his  arms,  and 
the  figure  of  Christ  stooping  from  the  cross  embnmd 
81.  Nicholas ;  and  from  that  hour  the  peatilcace  was 
stayed."  This  miracnloiia  incident  is  the  subject,  of  a 
picture  by  Casiiglione,  from  which  there  is  a  print  in 
(he  British  Museum. 


A  tnnch  more  interesting  saint  is  the  good 
bishop  of  Valeoda,  St.  Thomas  de  Vii,i.aki 
called  Che  Almoneb,  glotioiia  in  tho  pictures  of  Mnrillo 
and  lUbalta ;  but  be  lived  in  tlie  decline  of  Italian  art, 
and  I  do  not  know  one  good  Italian  pictore  of  him. 

Thomas  of  Villanueva,  the  eon  of  Alphonso  Garcia 
and  Lucia  Manioez  of  Villanueva,  was  bom  in  the 
year  1488.  The  family  was  one  of  the  most  ancient  in 
Valencia,  bnt  hia  parents,  who  wera  of  moderate  for- 
tune, were  remarkable  only  lor  ihcir  exceeding  charity, 
and  for  lending  money  without  interest,  or  furnishing 
seed  for  their  flclds,  to  the  poor  people  around  them. 
Tlieir  Bon  inherited  their  virtues.     When  he  was  a 


rmt  ta I 

InriHo  ■ 


child  0 


' seven  ye 

D  poor  childrei 


s  old,  he  used  li 


1  take  off  bis  clothes « 


8T.  THOMAS  OF  VILLANUEVA.         239 

The  vocation  for  the  ecclesiastical  life  was  too  strongl}* 
exhibited  to  be  gainsaid  by  his  parents.  After  study- 
ing for  fourteen  years  at  Alcala  and  at  Salamanca,  he 
entered  the  Angustine  Order  at  the  age  of  thirty :  and 
I  find  it  remarked  in  his  Life,  that  the  day  and  hour 
on  which  he  prononnced  his  vows  as  an  Augustine 
Friar  were  the  same  on  which  Luther  publicly  recanted 
and  renounced  the  habit  of  the  Order. 

After  two  years'  preparation,  by  retirement  from  the 
world,  penance  and  prayer,  Thomas  de  Villanueva  be- 
came a  distinguished  preacher,  and  soon  afterwards 
Prior  of  the  Angustines  of  Salamanca.  He  was  re- 
garded with  especial  veneration  by  the  emperor  Charles 
v.,  who  frequently  consulted  him  on  the  ecclesiastical 
afiairs  of  his  empire.  It  is  recorded,  that  when  Charles 
had  refused  to  pardon  certain  state  criminals,  though 
requested  to  do  so  by  some  of  his  chief  counsellors,  the 
grand  constable,  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  and  even 
his  son  Don  Philip,  he  yielded  at  once  to  the  prayer  of 
St.  Thomas,  decUuring  that  he  looked  upon  hiis  request 
in  the  light  of  a  Divine  command. 

In  the  year  1544,  Charles  showed  his  respect  for  him 
by  nominating  him  Archbishop  of  Valencia.  He  ac- 
cepted the  dignity  with  the  greatest  reluctance:  he 
arrived  in  Valencia  in  an  old  black  cassock,  and  a  hat 
which  he  had  worn  for  twenty-six  years ;  and  as  he 
had  never  in  his  life  kept  anything  for  himself,  beyond 
what  was  necessary  for  his  daily  wants,  he  was  so  poor, 
that  the  canons  of  his  cathedral  thought  proper  to  pre- 
sent him  with  four  thousand  crowns  for  his  outfit :  he 
thanked  them  gratefully,  and  immediately  ordered  the 
sum  to  be  carried  to  the  hospital  for  the  sick  and  poor, 
and  from  this  time  forth  we  find  his  life  one  series  of 
beneficent  actions.  He  began  by  devoting  two  thirds 
of  the  revenues  of  his  diocese  to  purposes  of  charity. 
He  divided  those  who  had  a  claim  on  him  into  six 
classes :  —  first,  the  bashful  poor,  who  had  seen  better 
days,  and  who  were  ashamed  to  beg ;  secondly,  the 
puor  girls  whose  indigence  and  misery  exposed  them 


»40  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDKRS.     ' 

Ki  danger  and  teraptalion  ;  Id  the  tliird  dnaa  were  tha 
poor  debton  ;  in  the  founli  the  poor  or|ihiuiB  and 
rouodlingi  i  ia  the  fifth,  the  aiek,  ibe  lame,  and  the  in> 
firin ;  Uitlj,  for  the  poor  Btrangeiv  and  trarellere  who 
anivcd  in  the  citj,  or  paaeed  through  it,  witlioui  know- 
ing wheie  Co  [ay  their  heads,  he  had  ti  great  kitcheo 
opsa  at  all  houra  of  the  daj  and  ni^hl,  where  overj  one 
who  cum*!  wa9  supplied  with  ibod,  a  night's  rest,  and  a 
■mall  graluit;  to  oeiist  him  on  his  jouraey. 

In  the  midst  of  these  charitiea  he  did  not  forget  ihe 
Bpiritaa!  wann  of  hta  people ;  and,  to  crown  his  de- 
serringe,  lie  was  ft  maiiiSfenc  patron  of  art. 

"  Valencia,"  says  Mr.  Btiriing,  "  wns  equally  prolific 
of  Bsinls,  artialB,  and  mua  of  letters.  Its  fine  school  of 
paindng  first  grew  into  notice  under  Che  enlightened 
rare  of  the  good  archbishop.  He  encouraeed  art,  not 
to  swell  hij  archiepiscopal  state,  but  to  emhelligh  hii 
nulicdral,  asd  to  tristnict  and  improre  his  flock." 
Anjoog  the  painters  who  floorislied  under  hia  ampices, 
was  Vicente  de  Juancs  (or  Juan  de  Juanes),  the  head 
and  founder  of  the  Valonciou  school ;  — "his  style, 
like  his  character,  was  grave  and  auetere :  if  Raphael 
was  his  model,  it  was  the  Raphaol  of  Perugia  ;  and 
whilst  his  vonteniporaries  £1  Mudo  and  El  Greco  were 
imbuing  Cmtiliuo  art  with  the  rich  and  voluptuouf 
nmnncr  of  the  Venetian  school,  he  aflected  the  antique 
Bovcritj  of  the  early  FlorentiDO  or  German  masters." 
(Stirling.)  fie  was  particularly  retnarkablc  for  the 
eombination  of  mnjeely  with  ineflablo  tnildness  and  he- 
oeficencB  which  he  threw  into  the  heads  of  our  SaTiour. 
We  can  easily  imagine  that  such  a  painter,  both  in  his 
personal  charaatcr  and  his  genius,  was  fitted  lo  pleaw 
the  good  Archbishop  of  Valencia ;  and  not  the  least 
precious  of  the  works  which  Juancs  left  behind  him  is 
the  ponmit,  from  life,  of  St.  Thomas  of  Villnnocva 
which  now  hangs  in  the  sacristy  of  the  cathedral.  He 
appears  robed  and  mitred,  '•  with  that  angelic  mildness 
of  expressian,  that  pale  and  ooble  coonteuance,  which 
accorded  with  the  gcutleness  of  his  nature."    (Stirling.) 


8T,  THOMAS  DE  VILLANUEVA.         241 

This  picture  was  painted  when  Jnanes  was  in  the  prime 
of  his  life  and  powers,  and  his  excellent  patron  declin- 
ing in  years. 

Thomas  de  Yillanaeva  died  in  1555.  To  the 
astonishment  of  the  people  he  left  no  debts,  in  spite 
of  the  enormous  sums  he  had  spent  and  given;  and 
thenceforth  it  was  commonly  said  and  believed,  that  his 
funds,  when  exhausted,  had  been  replenished  by  the 
Angels  of  Grod.  On  his  death-bed  he  ordered  all  the 
ready  money  in  his  house  to  be  distributed  to  the  parish- 
poor  ;  and  sent  all  his  furniture  and  goods  to  the  college 
he  had  founded  in  Valencia.  There  remained  nothing 
but  the  pallet  on  which  he  lay ;  and  that  he  bequeathed 
to  the  jailer  of  the  prison,  who,  as  it  appears,  had  be- 
come one  of  the  instruments  of  his  chiuity.  He  was 
followed  to  the  grave  by  thousands  of  the  poor,  who 
bewailed  the  loss  of  their  benefactor ;  and,  already  canon- 
ized in  the  hearts  of  his  people,  he  was  declared  a  Beato 
in  the  year  1618,  by  Paul  V.  At  the  same  time  it  was 
ordained,  that  in  Us  effigies  an  open  purse  should  be 
placed  in  his  hands  instead  of  the  crosier ;  with  the  poor 
and  infirm  kneeling  around  him ;  and  thus  we  find  him 
represented,  though  the  crosier  is  not  always  omitted. 
Most  of  the  pictures  of  St.  Thomas  de  Villanueva  which 
are  now  commonly  to  be  met  with  in  the  churches  of 
the  Augustines,  both  in  Italy  and  in  Spain,  have  been 
painted  since  1688,  the  year  in  which  the  Bull  of  his 
canonization  was  published  by  Alexander  VU.  It  can 
easily  be  imagined  that  he  was  most  popular  in  his  own 
country.  "  There  were  few  churches  or  convents  on 
the  sunny  side  of  the  Sierra  Morena  without  some 
memorial-picture  of  this  holy  man,"  but  the  finest  be- 
yond all  comparison  are  those  of  Murillo. 

Lord  Ashburton's  picture,  perhaps  the  most  beautiful 
Murillo  in  England  next  to  that  of  Mr.  Tomline,  repre- 
sents the  saint  as  a  boy  about  six  or  seven  years  old, 
dividing  his  clothes  among  four  ragged  urchins.  The 
figures  are  life-size.  This  picture  was  formerly  in  the 
collection  of  Godoy,  by  him  presented  to  Marshal  Be- 
16 


•41  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MUNABTIC  ORDEBi 


Tlie  picniro  called  the  ■■  Chuiir  of  Sao  Toma*  de 
Villa  NuDVa,"  wliieh  Murillo  preftrred  lo  nil  hiB  other 
works,  Qiid  used  to  call  ■■  his  own  pictare,"  was  one  of 
llis  Mrim  psinied  for  tbo  Capachias  at  fiorille.  ■■  Ito1)ed 
in  blarlc  (the  habit  of  his  Order),  and  irenrin^  a  white 
mitro,  St.  Thoiaiu  the  AbKmer  stimdB  at  tbo  door  of  hia 
t-atlieilral,  relieTiDg  the  wanU  of  a  liime  bulf-nnkcd  beg- 
gar who  kneels  at  his  feet  His  palo  Tcneralila  coitnle- 
nanec,  exprestiiu  of  sevcritioa  InHicted  on  hiiQBelf,  and 
of  habitual  kindacH  and  good-will  towards  all  mankind, 
JB  not  infbrior  in  intellectual  dignity  and  beauty  lo  that 
<if  St.  Lcander." 

There  ia  ■  tine  picture  of  die  same  subject,  bal  diSisr- 
cntly  treated,  in  tho  Louyib  ;  and  Boothor,  brought  from 
Seville  about  1805,  was  purchased  by  Mr.  Wells  of 
Btxllesf,  and  recentl?  sold. 

In  the  College  of  Valencia,  which  he  fonDded,  is  a 
^and  pictnre  of  St.  Thomas  "  surrouudad  by  scholars," 
(?)  partH  of  which,  says  Mr.  Ford,  "  are  as  line  aa  Volas- 
quex."  This  most  have  been  paioted,  however,  long 
after  the  death  of  the  Boint. 


St.  Jons  Nepomccr, 


Ilk.  Ouicin  Bcguliu' or  81.  AugnBllne. 
idBgitnMSIiader.  Prouctoc  at  Uie 
fhemia  and  AuMrla,  tbe  putna  saLdl 


rri[lgea  nihl  rv 


CHJiBLEsrv".,  emperor  otGennaoy,  of  whom  I  have 
already  ipokcn,  died  in  the  year  1378,  after  having  pro- 
enred,  by  lavish  biibery  to  the  eleelon,  tbo  BUccession 
of  tbe  empire  for  his  son  Wcticsslaas  IV.  In  his  early 
childhood  his  father  had  iuviled  Fetraieh  to  superintend 
his  education :  the  wise  poet  declined  the  task,  and  it 


8T.  JOHN  NEPOMUCK.  243 

may  be  doubted  if  even  he  could  have  made  anything 
of  such  untoward  material.  The  history  of  the  Jong 
and  disgraceful  reign  of  this  prince  docs  not,  fortunately, 
belong  to  our  subject :  it  is  sufficient  to  observe  that  he 
obtained  from  his  people  the  surnames  of  the  Slothful 
and  the  Drunkard;  and  from  historians  that  of  the  Mod- 
em Sardanapalus.  He  married  the  Princess  Joan  of 
Bavaria,  a  beautiful  and  virtuous  princess :  she  was  con- 
demned to  endure  alternately  his  fits  of  drunkenness, 
of  ferocity,  and  fondness,  and  her  life  was  embittered 
and  prematurely  brought  to  a  close  by  his  cruelty  and 
his  excesses. 

She  had  for  her  confessor  and  almoner  a  certain  excel- 
lent priest,  called,  from  the  place  of  his  birth,  John  of 
Nepomuck.  This  good  man  pitied  the  unfortunate 
empress,  and,  knowing  that  for  misery  such  as  hers 
there  was  no  earthly  remedy,  he  endeavored  by  his  re- 
ligious instructions  to  strengthen  her  to  endure  her  fate 
with  patience  and  submission. 

Wenceslaus,  in  one  of  his  fits  of  mad  jealousy,  sent 
for  John  and  commanded  him  to  reveal  the  confession 
of  the  empress.  The  priest  remonstrated,  and  repre- 
sented that  such  a  violation  of  his  spiritual  duties 
was  not  only  treachery,  but  sacrilege.  The  emi^eror 
threatened,  entreated,  bribed  in  vain.  The  confessor 
was  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  where  he  was  kept  for  a 
few  days  in  darkness  and  without  food.  He  was  again 
brought  before  the  emperor,  and  again  repelled  his  of- 
fers with  mild  but  most  resolute  firmness.  Wenceslaus 
ordered  him  to  be  put  to  the  torture.  The  unhappy 
empress  threw  herself  at  her  husband's  feet,  and  at 
length  by  her  prayers  and  tears  obtained  the  release  of 
the  saint  She  ordered  his  wounds  to  be  dressed,  she 
ministered  to  him  with  her  own  hands ;  and  as  soon  as 
be  was  recovered  he  reappeared  in  the  court,  teaching 
and  preaching  as  usual.  But,  aware  of  his  dangerous 
position,  he  chose  for  the  text  of  his  first  sermon  the 
words  of  our  Saviour,  Yet  a  little  while  and  ye  shall  not 
see  me,  and  sougtit  to  prepare  himself  and  his  hearers 
for  the  fate  he  anticipated. 


144  LEOEUDa  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OBDESSi^ 

A  lew  At,ya  aflarwards,  ta  be  wrb  returning  homa 

froni  tmmo  dmriliiUtu  mission,  the  cmpcrDr.  perc«mng 
him  rrotn  tlio  wiudaw  of  his  p>ta<-e,  woa  seized  with  one 
of  thiwo  inuiiui  flu  of  farj  to  whicli  lie  mv  aulyect ;  be 
OnWred  hii  gonrds  (o  drag  him  to  his  preeeni'e,  and 
■gun  repeated  his  demand.  The  holy  man,  who  read 
bii  fikU  in  the  eyes  of  the  tjiant,  held  hia  peace,  not 
oven  deignio);  a  reply.  At  a  Bign  from  their  mBsicr 
■lie  gos'^  seized  him,  bonnd  him  hand  and  foot,  niid 
tlirewhim  orerlba  parapet  of  the  bridge  into  the  waters 
of  iha  Moidau.     (a.  ti.  1383,  Mbj  16.) 

He  sank;  but,  sayi  the  li^nd,  a  supernatural  lL)rh[ 
(fivs  atars  in  the  form  of  a  crown)  was  seen  hovering 
over  the  spot  where  his  body  had  been  thrown,  wliich 
when  the  emperor  beheld  (rom  his  paJoco,  ho  fled  lite 
one  distracted,  and  hid  himself  for  a  time  in  (he  fortress 
of  Cnrlatein. 

Mcantitne  the  empress  wept  for  the  ble  of  her  friend, 
and  the  people  toolt  up  the  body  and  carried  it  in  pro- 
cession to  tlie  Church  of  the  Holy  Cross. 

From  this  time  St.  John  of  Ncpomuck  wu  howred 
in  his  own  country  as  a  martyr,  and  became  the  patron 
saint  of  bridges  throughout  Boliemiu.  In  the  year  1630, 
when  Prague  wiu  besieged  liy  the  Imperialists,  during 
the  thirty  years'  war,  it  was  commonly  l>elieved  that 
St.  John  of  Nepomuck  fought  on  their  side;  and  on 
the  copitulatioo  of  Prague,  and  eubsequcat  conquest  of 
Bohemia,  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  and  (he  Jesuits  so- 
licited his  canonization,  hut  the  ]uipal  decree  was  not 
published  till  the  year  1 729. 

Tlie  rest  of  the  history  of  Wenceslaofl  would  here  be 
out  of  place,  but  it  may  be  iuteresiiug  to  add  that  the 
Qnha]jpj  empress  died  shortly  after  her  director  ;  that 
WeuceslauB  was  deprived  of  the  Empire,  and  reduced 
to  his  hereditary  kingdora  of  Bohemia,  which,  during 
the  lust  few  years  of  his  life,  was  distracted  atid  laid 


:eby  il 


\iof  th 


On  the   bridge  at  Prague,  and   on  the  very  spot 


ST.  JOHN  NEPOMUCK,  245 

whence  he  was  thrown  into  the  river,  stands  the  statue 
of  St.  John  of  Nepommtk.  He  wears  the  dress  of  a 
canon  of  St.  Augustine ;  in  one  hand  the  cross,  the 
other  is  extended  in  the  act  of  benediction ;  five  stars 
of  gilt  bronze  are  above  his  head.  This  is  the  usual 
manner  of  representing  him ;  but  I  have  seen  other 
devotional  effigies  of  him,  standing  with  his  finger  on 
his  lip  to  express  his  discretion ;  and  in  some  of  the  old 
German  prints  he  has  a  padlock  on  his  mouth,  or  holds 
one  in  his  hand.  He  is  of  course  rare  in  Italian  art, 
and  only  to  be  found  in  pictures  painted  since  his  can- 
onization. There  is  one  by  Giuseppe  Crespi,*  in  which 
he  is  pressing  the  crucifix  to  his  heart,  painted  about 
1730 ;  and  another  by  the  same  painter  in  which  he  is 
confessing  the  empress.  She  is  kneeling  by  the  confes- 
sional, and  he  has  the  attribute  of  the  five  stars  above 
his  head.     Neither  of  these  pictures  is  good. 

St.  John  of  Nepomuck,  or,  a^  he  is  called  there,  San 
Juan  Nepomuceno,  became  popular  in  Spain,  but  at  so 
late  a  period  that  the  pictures  which  represent  him  in 
the  Jesuit  churches  and  colleges  there  are  probably 
worthless.  I  have  before  me  a  Spanish  heroic  poem  in 
his  praise,  entitled  La  Eloquencia  dd  Silencio^  Poema 
HeroicOf  Vida  y  Martyrio  dd  gran  Protomartyr  dd  Sac- 
ramental SigilU),  Fiddissimo  Custodio  de  la  Fama  y  Pro- 
tector de  la  Sagrada  Compankt  de  Jesus ;  dedicated  sig- 
nificantly to  the  Jesuit  confessor  of  Philip  Y.,  William 
Clarke  by  name,  {n  the  opening  stanza  St.  John  is 
compared  to  Harpocrates,  and  in  the  frontispiece  he  is 
seen  attended  by  an  angel  with  his  finger  on  his  lip ; 
underneath  is  the  bridge  and  the  river  Moldau,  on 
which  is  the  body  of  St.  John  Nepomuck  with  five 
stars  over  it.  I  lived  for  some  weeks  under  the  pro- 
tection of  this  good  saint  and  "  Proto-Martyr  of  the 
Seal  of  Silence,"  at  the  little  village  of  Traunkirchen 
(by  the  Gmunden-See,  in  the  Tyrol),  where  his  effigy 
stood  in  my  garden,  the  hand  extended  in  benediction 

*  San  Gioyaoni  NejKnnaceno  ehe  aifettaosamente  itringe  alpet^ 
to  il  Crociflsao.    Turin  Qal. 


146  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS.  \ 

over  ihc  wnlen  oT  that  boaDliful  take.    In  great  Monat 
I  liavc  sLim  iho  lighroing  [ila;  round  liiu  Jii-ad  till  the 
»  bocamu  ■  real  (ktj  oiialim,  —  besutifdl 


boboldl 


St.  Lobrnxo  OioiTrNiAin,  of  Totiice,  was 
1 .180,  of  DUO  of  tho  oldest  and  noblest  of  the 
families.  Hia  motlier,  Qnirina,  the  joan^  and 
ral  widow  of  B<XDardo  OiastiniaDi,  remuned  unmarried 

fur  bii  take,  and  educated  him  with  the  ittniMt  ram 
and  icndcriivaH.  Uo  appcan  to  have  beeu  a  roliti;toua 
imtliuiiiBsc  even  in  his  boyhood,  and  believed  bimself 
t'slled  to  the  ecrvico  of  God  b}  a  mincaloDB  vialon  at 
the  ago  of  oinotecD.  As  he  woa  the  eldest  bod,  his 
family  was  anxious  that  lie  should  many  ;  but  he  Uvd 
from  hia  homo  to  the  cloister,  and  look  refuge  with  the 
Angustioc  hermits  at  SaD-Giorgio-iu-Alj^a.  The  next 
time  be  appoorcd  at  the  door  of  bis  mother's  palace,  it 
was  iu  the  garb  of  a,  poor  mendicant  friar,  whu  humbly 
beggud  an  alms,  pa-  i  poueri  di  Iho.  His  mother  filled 
bis  wallet  in  silence,  and  then  recited  In  ber  chamber  la 
|iniy,  perlmps  to  weep —  nhether  tears  of  gratinide  or 
grief,  who  can  tell  1 

He  became  diulinguialied  in  bis  retirement  for  bin  in- 
delatigoble  cara  of  the  poor,  his  penances,  and  his  mor- 
tifications  (which  were,  however,  private),  and  waa  bold 
la  Bueh  general  esteem  and  veneration  that  he  was  cre- 
ated Bishop  of  Casiello  by  Pope  Eugenius  IV.  And 
a  few  years  afterwords,  on  the  death  of  tlie  Fatriarcb 
of  Grade,  the  patriarcliate  was  transferred  to  Venice, 
and  Lonmiio  was  the  first  who  bore  that  title. 

The  wbole  of  bis  long  life  was  spent  in  the  quiet 
performance  of  his  duties,  and  the  moEt  lender  and 
anxious  care  fbr  the  people  committed  to  bfa  charge. 
Be  wore  habitually  his  coarse  hbick  gown,  slept  on 
straw,  and  devoted  tlic  revenues  of  his  dioeeso  lo  char- 
itable and  rohgious  purposes.    He  died,  amid  the  praj- 


boraj^^^H 
ItaUd^^H 


of  the  whole 


believed  that  the  republic  had  been  saved  from  plag 


ST,  ROSALIA  OF  PALERMO,  247 

war,  and  famine  by  his  prayers  and  intercession,  and 
did  not  wait  for  a  papal  decree  to  exalt  him  to  the 
glories  of  a  saint.  They  built  a  church  in  his  honory 
and  placed  his  effigies  on  their  altars,  two  hundred 
years  before  his  canonization,  which  took  place  in  1690 
by  a  decree  of  Alexander  VIIL,  who  was  a  Venetian. 

The  portrait  of  San  Lorenzo  was  painted  during  his 
life  by  Vittore  Carpaccio,  and  is  engraved  in  the  great 
work  of  Litta.  There  is  a  fine  half-length  figure  in 
marble  over  his  tomb  in  San  Fietro  di  Castello.  Both 
these  represent  him  with  the  spare  yet  benign  linea- 
ments we  should  have  given  to  him  in  fancy,  and  in 
the  simple  dress  of  a  priest  or  canon.  I  do  not  know 
that  he  has  any  particular  attribute.  The  contempo- 
rary picture  (Venice,  S.  Maria  dell'  Orta)  by  Gentil 
Bellini,  is  singular,  because  he  has  the  nimbus,  and  is 
attended  by  angels  bearing  the  crosier  and  mitre,  al- 
though not  canonized. 

Pictures  of  this  amiable  prelate  abound  in  the  churches 
of  Venice  and  Palermo.  The  best  I  have  seen  was 
painted  about  the  time  that  Clement  VII.  had  declared 
him  a  Beato,  and  represents  him  standing  in  a  niche  on 
an  elevated  step ;  three  canons  of  his  Order  are  looking 
up  to  him ;  St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  Augustine,  and 
St.  Francis,  stand  in  front.    (Pordenone,  Venice  Acad.) 

There  is  also  a  fine  picture  by  II  Prete  Genovese,  in 
which  San  Lorenzo,  during  a  £eimine,  is  distributing  in 
charity  the  precious  efiects,  plate,  and  vestments  be- 
longing to  his  church.     (Venice,  ai  Tolentini.) 


St.  Rosalia  of  Palermo,  of  whose  festival  we  have 
such  a  gorgeous  description  in  Brydone's  "  Sicily," 
would  be  claimed  by  the  Augustines  as  belonging  to 
their  order  of  hermits ;  for  which  reason  I  place  her  here. 

She  was  a  Sicilian  virgin,  of  noble  birth,  who,  in  her 
sixteenth  year,  rejected  all  offers  of  marriage,  and  with> 
drew  secretly  to  a  cavern  near  the  summit  of  Monte 
Pellegrino,  —  that  rocky  picturesque  mountain  which 


r 


I 


» 


14B  LlllK.VDS  OF  THE  MONASTSC  OIIDKRS. 

elo«e>  in  the  bay  of  Polenno  on  tlje  west ;  aad 
■1i«  devoted  horeeir  to  a  lifii  of  sulitnr;  Mujrlitjr, 
tbcre  she  divil    niiknown  tn  hII.      Bal,  wlicn  elie 
■aamdM  into  liJiw,  she  lic<«ma  na  iat 
the  eternal  Throne  for  bar  boauiiful  native  ritf .  i>l 
■be  twice  raved  from  tlie  ravages  of  the  plagno.     E 
pjly,  aflera  long  ialcrvol,  her  aacred  rntnains  mora 
coroird  lying  in  lier  grotto,  nDcomiptwi  —  such  vii 
wtain  her  iinsulHed  maiden  pnritj  t  —  and  00  lier  head 
a  wreath  of  ruses  from  Paradise,  placed  tbere  bj  the 
angels  who  had  sang  her  to  real.     Her  name,  inscribed 
*by  herself,  wn«  firnnd  on  Ibo  voiM  above.     She  waa 
theoccfbrtb  solcmnlj  inaugurated  as  the  patroness  of 
Palerroo ;  and  in  the  jear  1626,  through   the  credit 
of  the   Sicilian  Jesuits,  she  was  eanouized  bj  Pope 
Urban  Yin. 

Od  tbe  Buinmil  of  Monto  Pelleiirino  stands  the  colos- 
sal statue  of  [he  virgin  saint,  looking  U>  the  cant  over 
the  blue  Medilcmuiean,  and  seen  from  afar  hy  the 
Sicilian  mariner.  —  at  once  Ids  auspieious  beocou  and 
his  celestial  pmtselresa. 

Her  grotto  has  become  a  church  and  a  place  of  pil- 
grimage, aod  Staines  and  piccnresof  hiT  abound  throogh 
Iha  locality.  She  is  itot  nsuolly  represented  in  the  re- 
ligious habit,  bat  in  a  brown  tunic,  Bometimes  ragged ; 
her  bair  loose.  She  is  generally  recumbent  iu  ber 
cavern,  irradiated  by  celestial  light,  and  pressing  a  cm- 
ciiix  to  her  hosom,  wbilo  angels  crown  her  with  roses. 
Buch  a  picture,  by  a  late  Sicilian  painter,  probably 
Novelli,  I  saw  in  Dublin  (Tyrone  House)  in  the  pos- 
scBfiioQ  of  Mr.  Aiex.  Macdonnell.  Sometiines  she  is 
standing,  and  in  the  net  of  inscribing  her  name  on  the 
rocky  wall  of  her  cavern. 

A^  a  enbjoet  of  painting,  St.  Rosalia  is  chiefly  iu^ 
lercstlng  for  the  series  of  pictures  painted  by  Vand; 
after  her  canonization,  for  the  Jesuits'  Church 
Antwerp.     One  of  these  is  now  at  Palermo  :  two 
at  Munich  ;  —  the  Vision  of  St.  liosalia ;  and  the 
ascending  into  heaven  with  a  company  of  augels. 


ST.  NORBERT, 


249 


of  whom  crowns  her  with  roses  :  a  fourth,  very  graDd 
and  beautifal,  represents  St.  Rosalia  glorified  and^ 
crowned  with  roses  by  the  infant  Saviour.  We  must 
be  careful  not  to  confound  St.  Rosalia  with  the  Mag- 
dalen, or  with  St.  Cecilia,  or  with  St.  Dorothea. 

Another  Augustine  saint  whom  we  find  occasionally 
in  pictures  is  Clara  di  Monte-Falco,  styled  in  her  own 
country  Saint  Clara;  but,  as  she  was  never  regularly 
canonized,  her  proper  title  is  the  "Beata  Clara  della 
Cruce  di  Monte-Falco."  This  beautiful  little  city  crowns 
the  summit  of  a  lofty  hill  seen  on  the  right  as  we  travel 
through  the  Umbrian  valleys  from  Foligno  to  Spoleto. 
Here  she  was  born  about  the  year  1268,  and  here  she 
dwelt  in  seclusion,  and  shed  over  the  whole  district  the 
perfume  of  her  sanctity  and  the  fame  of  her  miracles 
and  visions.  She  is  represented  in  the  dress  of  her 
Order,  the  black  tunic  fastened  by  a  leathern  girdle, 
black  veil,  and  white  wimple,  which  distinguishes  her 
from  her  great  namesake  the  Abbess  St.  Clara  of  Assisi. 
This  Beata  Clara  is  met  with  in  the  Augustine  churches. 
There  is  a  picture  of  her  in  the  Santo  Spirito  at  Flor- 
ence. 

Of  the  various  communities  which  emanated  directly 
firom  the  Augustine  Order,  properly  so  called,  the  earli- 
est which  has  any  interest  in  connection  with  art  is  one 
with  a  very  long  name,  —  the  Pbemonstbatensians. 


St.  Nobbert,  Foundbb. 

Ital.  San  Norberto,  Foadatore  de'  PremoBtratesi.    Qer»  Stifter  der 
PrilmoDStrateDaer-Orden.    May  6, 1134. 

St.  Norbert,  whose  effigy  occurs  frequently  in 
French  and  Flemish  art,  was  a  celebrated  preacher  and 
religious  reformer  in  the  eleventh  century.  He  was 
bom  at  Cologne;  he  was  a  kinsman  of  the  emperor 
Henry  IV. ;  and  though  early  intended  for  the  ecclesias- 
dcal  profession,  in  which  the  highest  dignities  awaited 


i 


,,0  lEGEXDS  or  TBE  MONASTIC  ORDES^ 

h»  >i7Mplsnc«,  be  for  Bereral  jeora  led  a  disaolute  lj& 
in  tlic  Iin|>cn«l  court. 

One  Jnr,  tu  lie  wng  riding  in  piusuil  iff  bia  plea&urei, 
ho  wmorartnluu  b;ia  Builden  auil  furious  lempcet;  u)d 
BB  he  looked  ahoDl  fbr  sbcltcr,  there  fell  from  heaven  n 
boll  of  lira,  wliicli  exploded  U  bin  horse's  feat,  bumed 
up  ths  i^nut,  and  nuik  deep  in  the  earth.  On  recover- 
iiiE  his  senses,  he  vas  struck  with  dismay  ntien  he  re- 
flected what  might  liare  been  bis  fate  in  the  otJier  world 
had  he  porisbod  in  bis  wickedness.  He  forsock  his  evil 
wofB,  and  bt^n  to  prepare  himaclf  «crioiislf  forthe  life 
of  a  priest  and  a  missionary.  Elc  sold  all  his  posscs- 
HinoH,  bestowed  tbo  money  on  the  poor,  rescrriiig  to 
himself  only  ten  marks  of  silrcr.  and  a  mule  to  cany 
the  aoered  veatmcnts  and  utensils  fiir  the  altar;  and 
tlieo,  dollied  in  a  lamb-Bkln,  wiib  a  bempvti  rord  round 
bis  loins,  he  set  out  to  preach  repentance  and  a  now  life. 

AAor  preaching  for  eoveral  j'eara  through  the  north- 
ern provinces  of  France,  Eainnult,  Braliant,  nod  Liege, 
he  assembled  around  him  tboec  whose  hearts  hud  been 
touclied  by  his  cloquoncc,  and  who  were  resolved  to 
adopt  bis  austere  discipline.  Seeing  tbo  salvation  of  so 
many  committed  to  bis  care,  he  humbly  prayed  tor  the 
Divine  direction;  and  theroapon  the  blessed  Virgin  ap- 
peared to  him  in  a  viaion,  and  pointed  oat  to  him  a 
barren  and  lonosome  spot  in  the  'rallej  of  Coney,  Clienca 
called  Fri-tiioRiri.  (Fratnm  MonBtratnm.)  Hence  the 
name  adopted  by  his  community,  "the  Premonstraten- 
sians."  The  VIrgiu  likewise  dictated  the  bshion  and 
color  of  the  habit  tbey  were  to  adopt ;  it  was  a  coarse 
black  tunic,  and  over  it  a  white  woollen  cloak,  in  imita- 
tion of  the  angola  of  heaven,  "  who  are  clothed  in  white 
garments."  Tlie  four-comored  cap  or  beret,  worn  by 
the  Augustine  canons,  was  also  to  bo  white  instead  of 
block.  The  rule  was  that  of  St.  Augustine,  but  the 
discipline  so  severe  that  it  was  found  necesasij  to 
modify  it.     Still,  the  luceasity  of  monastic  reform  was 


0  universally  folt,  that,  ( 


a  the  c. 


found  favorwitb  the  people.    St.  Norbert  lived  it: 


8T.  NORBERT.  251 

twelve  handred  members  of  his  community ;  was  created 
Archbishop  of  Magdcbm^  by  the  emperor  Lothaire ; 
and,  after  a  most  active  and  laborious  ministry,  died 
in  1134. 

In  the  German  prints  and  pictures  St.  Norbert  has 
the  cope,  mitre,  and  crosier,  as  archbishop,  and  carries 
the  sacramental  cup  in  his  hand,  over  which  is  seen  a 
spider,  in  allusion  to  the  following  story :  — 

One  day  that  Norbert  had  consecrated  the  bread  and 
wine  for  the  ceremony  of  the  mass,  on  lifting  the  cup  to 
his  lips  ho  perceived  within  it  a  large  venomous  spider. 
Ho  hesitated,  —  what  should  he  do  ?  To  spill  the  sa- 
cred contents  on  the  ground  was  profane  —  not  to  be 
thought  of.  To  taste  was  certain  death.  He  drank  it, 
and  remained  uninjured.  This  was  regarded  as  a  mira- 
cle, as  the  recompense  of  his  faith,  and  has  been  often 
represented.  When,  instead  of  the  cup,  he  holds  the 
Momtranz,  I  think  it  may  be  an  allusion  to  the  name 
of  his  Order.  He  has  also  the  attribute  of  the  demon 
bound  at  his  feet,  common  to  all  those  saints  who  have 
overcome  the  world. 

A  frequent  subject  is  St.  Norbert  preaching  at  Ant- 
werp against  the  heretic  Tankelin.  This  Tankelin  was 
a  sort  of  atheist  and  socialist  of  those  times.  He  in- 
sisted that  the  institution  of  the  priesthood  was  a  cheat, 
the  sacraments  unnecessary  to  salvation,  and  that  a 
community  of  wives  as  well  as  goods  was  the  true  apos- 
tolic doctrine.  Of  course  he  had  no  chance  against  our 
austere  and  eloquent  saint.  In  a  very  beautiful  pic- 
ture* by  Bernard  v.  Orlay  (Munich  Gal.),  St.  Norbert 
with  his  mitre  on  his  head  is  preaching  to  a  large  assem- 
blage of  people ;  before  him  stands  Tankelin,  in  a  rich 
robe  trimmed  with  fur,  and  with  frowning  and  averted 
looks;  in  front  are  two  women  seated,  listening,  ap- 
parently a  mother  and  her  daughter,  —  the  latter  inim- 
itable for  the  grace  of  the  attitude  and  the  pensive 
expression  of  the  beautiful  face.  The  costume  and 
style  of  this  picture  are  thoroughly  German,  and  I 

*  Eng.  in  the  Boisserte  Oal. 


LEGENDa  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  OftDESi 


'.  Orlaj  had 


1S5 

RuppoH  it  WW  painwd  bdore  Bemanl  f 
iluilkKl  in  lliu  Brhuot  of  Rapbool. 

•'  St-  NurhFtt  in  a  Fisioii  rcreiring;  the  llnbit  of  his 
OrdLT  from  the  hand  of  Iho  Vit^n,"  wm  painted  by 
NicsNito  I'oussin. 

Two  pictureg  from  his  lifD  Hru  in  the  BrnsBcIa  Gallcrj. 
1.  Us  consiirratcg  two  douxinB.  9.  He  (lien,  summnded 
hvliiH  brotherhood,  in  the  wlof  benedictiou.  The  pie- 
tiirca  arc  not  very  goml. 

I  know  lut  one  other  saint  of  this  Order  who  has 
found  a  place  in  the  liiaTory  of  srI,  and  bis  legend  it 
very  gmoeftil. 

St.  Hebma-N  vaa  the  son  of  very  poor  psrents,  dwell- 
ing in  llio  tiiy  of  Cologne.  Bis  mother  bronght  him 
up  pioosly.  giring  him  the  best  instructions  she  conld 
aflbni.  Every  lUy,  ss  he  repiured  to  school,  be  went 
into  the  Church  of  St.  Maty,  and,  kneelioe  before  the 
image  of  Our  Lady,  said  bis  simple  prayer  with  a  rigiit 
lowly  and  loving  and  trusting  heart.  One  day  he  bHd 
an  apple  in  bia  hand,  whicli  wsii  all  he  had  for  bis  din- 
ner, and,  after  he  lisd  liiiiebcd  his  pmyer,  he  bnmUy 
□fibred  Ilia  apple  in  childish  lore  and  faith  to  the  holy 
imi^,  "which  thing,"  says  the  legend,  "pleased  Oar 
Blessed  Lsdy,  and  she  stretchcit  fortlj  her  band  urf 
took  the  apple  nnd  gave  it  to  oar  Lord  Jcbos,  who  nl 
npon  her  knee  ;  and  both  smiled  npon  Herman."  He 
young  enthnaiBst  took  the  habit  of  the  PrcnKinnrBten> 
siane,  and  edified  bis  monaBlety  by  his  piety,  his  anstwi- 
lies,  and  bis  wonderful  visions.  He  had  an  ecstatic 
dream,  in  which  the  Yit^m  descended  from  heaven, 
and,  putting  a  ring  upon  his  linger,  declared  him  ber 
espoused.  Hence  bo  received  from  the  brotherhood  tte 
name  of  Joseph.     He  died  in  1236. 

The  vision  of  St.  Herman -Joseph  has  been  repM- 
lented  by  Vandyck.  (Vienna  Gal.)  He  kneels,  wear- 
ing the  white  cloak  orcr  Ihc  black  runic,  and  is  presented 
by  ui  BDgel  to  the  Virgin,  who  touches  his  hand.    The 


THE  SERVI,  OR  SERVITL  253 

pretty  legend  of  the  child  ofiering  the  apple  I  do  not 
remember  to  have  seen. 


The  Sbrvi,  or  Serviti. 

Evert  one  who  has  been  at  Florence  must  remem- 
ber the  church  of  the  "  Annunziata  " ;  every  one  who 
remembers  that  glorious  church,  who  has  lingered  in 
the  cloisters  and  the  CoHilef  where  Andrea  del  Sarto 
put  forth  all  his  power,  —  where  the  Madonna  del  Sacco 
and  the  Birth  of  the  Virgin  attest  what  he  could  do  and 
6e  as  a  painter,  —  will  feel  interested  in  the  Order  of 
the  Servi.  Among  the  extraordinary  outbreaks  of 
religious  enthusiasm  in  the  thirteenth  century,  this  was 
in  its  origin  one  of  the  most  singular. 

Seven  Florentines,  rich,  noble,  and  in  the  prime  of 
life,  whom  a  similarity  of  taste  and  feeling  had  drawn 
together,  used  to  meet  every  day  in  a  chapel  dedicated 
to  the  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  {then  outside 
the  walls  of  Florence),  there  to  sing  the  Ave  or  evening 
service  in  honor  of  the  Madonna,  for  whom  they  had 
an  especial  love  and  veneration.  They  became  known 
and  remarked  in  their  neighborhood  for  these  acts  of 
piety,  so  that  the  women  and  children  used  to  point  at 
them  as  they  passed  through  the  streets,  and  exclaim, 
"  GuardcOe  i  Servi  di  Maria  !  "  (Behold  the  senxmts 
of  the  Virgin !)  Hence  the  title  afterwards  assumed 
by  the  Order. 

The  passionate  devotion  of  these  seven  enthusiasts 
was  increased  by  their  mutual  sympathy  and  emulation, 
till  at  length  they  resolved  to  forsake  the  world  alto- 
gether, and,  distributing  their  money  to  the  poor,  after 
selling  their  possessions,  they  retired  to  Monte  Senario, 
a  solitary  mountain  about  six  miles  from  Florence. 
Here  they  built  for  themselves  little  huts,  of  stones  and 
boughs,  and  devoted  themselves  to  the  perpetual  service 
of  the  Virgin..  At  first  they  wore  a  plain  white  tunic, 
in  honor  of  the  immaculate  purity  of  their  protectress.* 


IS4  LKGByDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  QRDbA 

U  wM  dien  die  IWTnriie  rdietetM  garii;  bnt  one  i>f  iho 
hrolhcrliood  wu  bononsl  witli  ■  virion  \a  vrhieh  tho 
Hotj  Vircin  horeelf  (■omnmriiiort  them  to  di&oge  their 
whiu  lunil'  (be  ■  lilsfk  oae,  "in  mcinorj  of  her  m«- 
lonuJ  ■orroir,  bdJ  iJie  ilesih  of  her  Difino  Son  " ;  Ihe 
luihit  trru  iheaiwluTwaM  blsclc. 

Th»e  teten  Snnli  Fandatari  dei  Servi  WMS  Boon- 
fisl'oli  MoTuildi,  Oiovanai  MaDMli,  Benedetto  AntcUui, 
Qhcmrdo  Soii^ni,  Amadio,  Kicovaro  Lippi.  ondAlei- 
Bio  FklataicTi.  T\ay  vae  all  slliod  lu  the  nobteM 
fnrailiui  of  Floretica,  uul,  as  ttioir  Order  grew  in  fume 
and  unctiij,  their  nittiTe  city  hefnme  proud  of  them. 
I  remember  in  Iho  priritie  chepel  of  ibe  Cua  Buodo- 
rotri  {still  the  nwidcuca  of  the  represeDtiuive  of  Micluwl 
Angnlo)  a  Mrisa  c^  Lnnetles,  in  which  all  tlie  renowned 
Florentine  Baints  are  seen  as  iralking  in  procession,  led 
by  John  the  B^tiBi  and  Santa  Beparata,  the  patron 
saints  of  tbe  eitj.  The  Pathi  Sereiu',  in  (heir  blmk 
lialiiK,  form  part  of  this  religioaa  company.  At  tbetr 
head  walks  St.  Philip  Benozzi,  tbe  chief  saint  of  the 
Order,  who  hns  been  called  the  tbander,  but  it  existed 
nfteen  jcara  before  ho  joined  it  in  1917. 

Filippo  BenoKxi  began  life  as  a  physieinn.  In  ^n- 
eral,  I  ihinfe,  the  study  of  medicino  and  sra^teiy  does  not 
prepare  the  mind  for  intense  devotional  napirations ;  yet 
I  have  beard  of  young  men  studying  tbr  the  mediciil 
profesBion,  who,  aA«r  going  through  a  probation  in  the 
hospitalB,  anubto  lo  bear  the  perpetual  sight  of  bodily 
siitRiring,  and  yet  subdued  at  oni'e  and  elevated  by 
such  spocta^'les,  have  turned  to  the  Churrb,  and  become 
"  healer?  of  tbe  eick  "  In  aUDther  BeuBe. 

Such  a  one  was  Filippo  Bcnoizi.  Alter  etadying  nt 
Paris  and  at  Padua,  then,  and  down  to  recent  times,  llic 
beat  schoola  of  medicine  in  Europe,  be  returned  to  Flor- 
ence, Willi  the  title  of  Doctor,  and  prepared  to  practise 
his  art.  Ho  had  a  tender  and  a  thougbtfnl  character; 
the  sight  of  physical  evil  opproasud  him,  —  he  became 
dissatisfied  with  himself  and  the  world.  One  day,  as 
he  attended  tnasa  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Annnnziato,  he 


ST.  PBILIP  BESOZZI.  155 

was  startled  by  the  wonla  in  Ihe  Epialle  of  the  day, 
"Draw  near,  and  join  thyself  to  the  chariot."  (Acta 
Tiii.  29.)  And  going  home  full  of  meditation,  he  threw 
himself  on  his  bed.  Id  hia  dreams,  he  beheld  the  ViF' 
gin  seated  in  a  chariot ;  she  called  to  him  to  draw  near, 
and  to  join  her  rnmasls.  He  obeyed  the  Tision  and  re- 
tired to  Monte  Scnario,  where  such  was  his  modesty 
and  hamilitj,  that  the  brethren  did  not  for  a  long  timo 
discover  his  talents ;  uid  groat  was  their  astooiahment 
when  they  focnd  they  had  among  them  a  wise  and 
learned  Doctor  of  the  University  of  Padiia !  He  BOon 
became  distinguished  as  a  preacher,  and  yet  more  as  a 
foconcilcr  of  dificrences,  having  set  himself  to  allay  the 
deadly  hereditary  factions  which,  at  that  time,  distracted 
all  the  cities  of  TuBcany.  He  prevailed  on  the  pope, 
Alexander  IV.,  10  confirm  the  Bale  of  the  Order, 
preached  through  the  chief  provinces  of  Italy,  and  at 
AvignoD,  Touloose,  Lyona,  Paris,  gaining  everywhere 
converts  to  hie  peculiar  adoration  for  the  Virgin,  and 
ttt  length  died  General  of  hia  Order,  in  1285. 

His  memory  has  from  that  time  been  held  in  great 
veneration  by  his  own  commnnity ;  hnt  it  was  not  till 
1516  that  Leo  X.  (himself  a  Florentine)  allowed  his 
fcatival  to  be  celebrated  as  a  Beaio.  This  was  a  great 
privilege,  which  the  Serviti  had  long  been  desiroos  to 
obtiun,  and  it  led  to  the  Ibrmal  caoonization  of  their 
eaint  in  1671.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  his  Bea^flnk- 
tioa  nnder  Leo  %.,  or  soon  alter,  that  Andrea  del  Sarto 
was  called  to  decorate  the  cloisters  of  the  Annnnziata 
(Florence).  Vasari  gives  a  raoat  amaaing  acconnt  of 
the  contrivances  of  the  sacristan  of  the  convent  (a  cer- 
tain FA  Mariano)  to  get  the  work  done  as  well  and  as 
cheaply  as  possible.  He  stimulated  the  vanity  of  rival 
artists ;  he  pointed  ont  th^  advantage  of  having  their 
works  exhibited  in  a  localityto  which  aoch  numbers  of 
tlie  devont  daily  resorted ;  he  would  not  hold  ont  the 
hope  of  large  pay,  but  he  promised  abnndance  of  pray- 
ers ;  and  he  dwelt  on  the  favor  which  their  peribrman- 
ow  wotild  00  ioiAt  obtain  from  the  Blessed  Vii]^ 


156  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OROEl 

berMlf,  10  whoM  «sped«l  honor,  and  Ihat  of  her  newl; 
uxalK^  roiarv,  ihej  were  to  lie  cnnatnTnlvd.  Ha  ob- 
Inined  nol  n^.  Lut  in  gnat  piirt.  what  he  desind. 
Andrea  |Mialod  qq  one  side  oT  tho  Cortile  two  sfcnca 
from  the  Lte  of  the  Madonna,  —  tho  binh  of  tlic  Virgin, 
and  the  odonuioa  of  the  Magi ;  and  on  llie  oilier  aide 
the  life  of  Son  fllippo  Benozzi.  Of  the  first  I  will  not 
saj  KDjthing  at  pmwnt ;  everj  Sgure  in  chose  (ublims 
jrroupa  ia  rnmiliar  to  the  student  and  the  lover  of  art. 
Buldovinelli  paioted  on  the  wme  eido  tlie  birth  of  our 
Snvioar;  nod  Franciabigio  hii  chcf-d'tEnvn;,  tlio  AIOT- 
riitgo  of  the  Viqrin.  Of  the  eix  flrcsvos  lioTn  the  life  of 
6un  Filippo.  Coeimo  Boselli  painted  the  first,  where  he 
talcea  Ihe  habit  of  the  SorritL  The  live  otlicrs  are  bj 
Andrea.  !.  B.  Filippo,  on  his  wa;  to  Ibe  court  of  As 
pope  at  Viterbo,  giro  his  only  shirt  to  a  poor  leper. 
3.  Soma  gamblers  and  profligate  ;oluig  men  mochod 
at  the  devotion  of  the  saint,  and  pnrsnod  him  with  gibca 
and  insults  b6  bo  aaccnded,  vith  three  of  his  brolhi^- 
liood,  tho  Monte  Seoario.  A  storm  came  on;  the 
brethren  drew  their  coivla  over  their  heads,  and  qnieUy 
pniaued  their  nay ;  Ihe  scofiera  ran  for  shelter  to  a  tree, 
and  were  killed  b^  the  hghtniog.  This  is  one  of  the 
best  of  the  seriofl,  admirable  for  the  fine  landscape,  and 
dmmadc  felicity  with  which  the  story  is  totd.  4.  Son 
Filippo  heola  a  possessed  woman.  5.  The  death  of  the 
saint,  also  very  bcanlifnl.  6,  Miracles  perfonnod  by 
his  relied  aller  his  death  :  bis  babii  is  placed  on  tlie  head 
of  a  sick  child,  who  is  immediately  healed.  The  fine 
tignro  of  the  old  man  in  red  drapery,  ienning  on  his 
stick,  id  the  portrait  of  AaiiKa  della  Itobliia,  one  of  the 
family  of  lamons  scalplora. 

In  tho  cloistem,  over  the  door  which  leads  into  the 
chnrcb,  Andrea  del  Sano  pointed  tho  Ripaso,  to  cele- 
brated as  the  "Miidouua  del  Sacco."  And,  on  tho 
waila,  Benardino  Pocetti,  Moscagni,  and  Salimbcnl, 
clever  mannerists  of  iho  sixteenth  centnry,  painted  a 
serios  of  subjocts  from  the  lives  of  the  original  founders 


THE  TRINITARIANS, 


^57 


of  the  Order,  of  which  the  best  (by  Pocetti)  represents 
the  recovery  of  a  child  drowned  in  the  Arno,  by  the 
prayers  of  Amadio.  This  fresco  is  celebrated  under  the 
•DSLmQ  ot  Anegato  ov  Affogaio,  "  the  Drowned  Boy."  On 
the  whole,  the  black  robes  of  the  personages  give  to 
these  frescos  a  spotty  and  disagreeable  effect,  and  they 
are  not  in  any  respect  first-rate ;  yet  they  are  interesting 
when  considered  in  reference  to  their  locality  and  the 
history  of  the  origin  of  the  Order.  Out  of  Florence, 
St.  Philip  Benozzi  and  his  companions  are  not  con- 
spicuous as  subjects  of  art,  though  the  Order  became 
popular  and  widely  extended.  In  1484  the  Serviti 
were  added  to  the  Mendicant  Orders,  and  firom  that 
time  are  styled  Frati,  Father  Paul  Sarpi,  .the  Vene- 
tian, so  famous  in  the  political  and  literary  history  oi. 
Italy,  was  of  this  Order,  and  would  be  properly  styled 
Fra  Paob. 


Thb  Trinitarians. 

The  Order  of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity,  for  the  Bedemption  of 

Captives. 

Of  the  many  communities,  male  and  female,  which 
emanated  from  the  Augustine  Rule,  the  most  interest- 
ing are  those  which  were  founded  for  purposes  of  mercy 
and  charity,  rather  than  for  self-sanctification  through 
penance  and  seclusion.  These  have,  however,  afforded 
comparatively  but  few  subjects  either  in  painting  or 
sculpture. 

Among  the  suffering  classes  of  our  Christendom, 
from  the  tenth  to  the  fifteenth  century,  none  were  more 
pitiable  than  the  slaves  and  prisoners.  The  wars  of 
that  period  had  a  peculiar  character  of  ferocity,  en- 
hanced by  the  spirit  of  religious  hatred :  prisoners  on 
both  sides  were  most  inhumanly  treated.  The  nobles 
and  leaders  were  usually  ransomed,  often  at  the  price 
of  all  their  worldly  goods  ;  the  poorer  classes,  and  fre- 
quently women  and  children,  carried  off  from  the  mari- 

17 


LEGEflDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEm 


St.  Jobh  de  Matha  was  bora  at  Fsucon,  in  Prov> 
ence,  'm  DM.  or  imhlo  pareDls.  As  osbbI,  we  God 
lliat  bii  molhcr.  whoic  name  irna  Mortba,  had  cducnlcd 
him  in  babiia  of  pieiy,  and  conBccrated  him  carl/  la  the 
tervioe  of  God. 

lie,  being  a  enident  in  the  UniTersilj  of  Paris,  be- 
cuno  (aiDODS  there  tbr  hia  learning  and  holiDesg  of  life ; 
—  and,  being  ocdainod  pnest,  nt  his  fiist  celebration  of 
divino  Htrvii.'e  he  beheld  a  vieion  of  an  an^i  clothed  in 
white,  haviog  a  rross  of  red  and  blue  on  hie  breast,  and 
big  hands,  crosbed  ova  each  other,  rested  on  the  heada 
of  two  slavBi,  nho  knelt  on  each  aide  of  him.  And  ho- 
lieving  that  in  tbiii  vision  of  the  mind  God  Bpolie  to 
him,  and  called  him  lo  the  deliveranm  of  priEooers  and 
captiTcs,  he  immcdialelj  sold  all  hie  goods,  and  foTBOok 
the  ivorld,  to  prepare  himself  Ibr  his  mission.  "  He 
retired  to  a  doscrt  place,  where,  ot  the  fool  of  a  little 
hill,  was  a  bir,  clear,  and  cold  (bontain,  to  which  a 
white  hart  did  duly  resort  (br  rcfreabinent,  whence  it 
was  called  in  Latin  Cavus  Jngidun,  and  in  French 
Cer/rng ;  and  hero,  with  anothor  hoi;  anil  benevalent 
man,  named  Fohx  de  Vitlois,  the  two  together  arranged 
the  institution  of  a  new  Order  for  the  RcdemptioD  of 
Slaves,  and  travelled  to  liome  lo  obtain  the  approbation 
of  the  Pope." 

When  Ihoy  come  to  Home  they  ware  conrtfonijly  rc- 
CMved  by  Pope  Innoieal  HI.,  who  having  been  lavored 
with  the  like  vision  of  an  nn^el  clothed  in  white,  with 
two  captives  chained  {and  on  this  occasion  one  captive 
was  a  Christian,  and  the  other  a  Moor,  showing  that 
in  tliis  charitable  Ibnedation  there  was  to  be  no  distinc- 
tion of  color  or  religion),  "  his  holiness  did  forthwith 
ratify  the  Order,  and,  by  his  command,  they  assumed 
the  white  habit,  having  on  the  breast  a  Greek  cross  of 
red  and  bine ;  the  three  colors  signifyiiig  the  Three 
Persons  of  the  Mo«t   Holy  Trinity:    the  while,  the 


ST.  JOBN  DE  MATSA.  159 

FatbeT  Kternat ;  the  bloe,  which  was  the  traverBe  of 
the  cross,  the  Son  ta  Redeemer  ;  and  the  red,  the  char- 
ity of  the  Holy  Spirit :  and  he  appointed  that  tbo 
Brotherhood  should  be  called  The  Order  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  for  tbo  Redemption  of  Captivea."     (Dugdnle.) 

This  being  settled,  Johti  de  Matha  and  Felix  de 
Talois — ^the  Clarkson  and  Wilberforce  of  their  timo 
—  returned  to  Franco,  and  they  preached  the  redemp- 
tion of  captives  through  the  whole  country,  collecting  a 
number  of  fbllowera  who  devoted  themselves  to  the 
same  canso.  They  were  then  called  Malkarins,  and 
Hoe  name  survives  in  a  street  of  Paris,  near  which  was 
one  of  their  firat  ealablishments,  but  the  parent  monaa- 
tery  was  that  of  Cerfroj.  The  Pope  also  gave  them, 
at  Rome,  the  church  and  convent  since  called  S.  Maria 
della  Navicella,  on  the  Monte  Cello,  well  known  to 
thOM  who  have  been  at  Rome,  for  its  solitary  and 
beautiful  sitaation,  and  fbr  the  antique  bark  which 
Etands  in  front  of  it,  and  from  which  it  derives  its  name. 

Having  collected  a  lai^  earn  from  the  charitable, 
John  eont  two  of  his  brotherhood  to  the  coast  of  Africa, 
to  negotiate  for  an  exchsnge  of  prisoners,  and  fbr  the 
redemption  of  slaves.  They  returned  with  one  hondttd 
and  eighty-six  redeemed  Christiana.  The  next  year 
John  went  himself  to  Spain,  preaching  everywhere  tbo 
cause  of  captives  and  slaves;  then  passing  over  to 
Tunis,  he  returned  with  one  hundred  and  ten  redeemed 
captives.  On  a  third  voyage,  inwbii:b  be  had  ransomed 
one  hundred  and  twenty  slaves,  the  in^dols,  furious  at 
seeing  him  depart,  cut  up  the  sula  of  the  ship  into  frag- 
ments, and  broke  away  the  rudder.  The  mariners 
were  in  despair  at  being  thus  abandoned  to  the  winds 
and  waves.  But  John,  trusting  in  his  good  cause,  re- 
placed the  torn  salts  with  his  mantle  and  those  of  his 
brotherhood ;  and,  throwing  himself  on  bis  knees, 
prayed  that  God  himself  would  be  their  pilot.  And 
behold  it  was  so ;  fbr  gentle  winds  wafted  them  into 
the  port  of  Ostia.  But  the  health  of  John  de  Maiha 
was  so  completely  broken,  that  ho  found  himself  diuJiIb 


»6o   t-EGKyjiS  OF  THE  UO^^ARTtC  OJWEIU 

n  piuciwd  to  FrsDfV,  sod  the  liat  two  jcan  of  his  life 
mm  t|iviit  *t  Itome,  wlici«,  in  tlic  iiitcrriilg  of  a  liDgo^ 
ing  ukloiljr,  he  puKd  his  time  in  viairing  ibo  prisont 
•nil  pranchinK  lo  tbo  poor.  And  thus  he  died  io  the 
axerdne  ot  liimie  clmriticB  to  which,  irom  esrlj  joulh, 
bo  Iwd  iJetoied  liimscir. 

Rl  John  do  Maitui  U  represented  in  a  white  halnt, 
wlih  a  bloe  aud  n»l  irost  upon  his  breast,  letters  in  his 
hand  or  at  his  feet,  and,  in  gonend,  the  vision  of  [he 
■riiJivI  witli  the  two  cuplifci  ia  placed  in  the  background. 
Tlio  peculiar  cross  and  white  habit  dietingniah  him  from 
St.  Leonaril,  whow  beautiful  legend  has  beec  already 
related.     (Sacred  and  Legend.  Art.) 

Mr.  Stirling  mentiaos  a  picture  representing  the 
Vitgin  giving  San  Juan  de  Mats  a  pane  of  tnoncy  for 
the  redemption  of  captives,  painted  by  a  certiun  ¥raj 
Bartohim^,  who  belonged  to  the  Order;  and  his  eOigj 
is  coinmoQ  in  the  old  1^'icnch  prints.  His  companion, 
St.  Felix  dc  Volois,  wears  the  habit  of  an  Ati^nEiine 
llcrniti  and  is  represented  sitting  in  a  cantcmplnlivc 
attitude  bj  the  side  of  a  fountuD,  at  which  a  stag  or 
hind  is  diinkiog.  There  is  a  series  of  ten  picCores,  bj 
Gotuez,  representing  the  lives  of  tlieso  two  conipanioQ 
saints  ;  but  the  sul^cts  are  not  mentioned. 

I  romombct  a  singular  inonalc  of  a  drcular  fonn, 
executed  by  Giovanni  Cosmata  about  1 300,  and  cer- 
toialy  for  this  Order.  It  reprmeuta  Christ  enthroned 
and  looaing  the  fetters  of  two  slaves  wlio  kneel  OQ  each 
side.  Ono  of  these  slaves  is  white,  and  the  oilier  is  a, 
negro.  I  have  lost  my  Doto  of  the  cbuicb  in  which 
this  mosaic  exists,  but  it  is  probably  to  be  found  in  S. 
Maria  della  Navicelht.     (liomc.) 

The  first  fonndcrs  of  the  Trinitarians  placed  ihem- 
selves  especially  under  tlie  protection  of  St.  Radeguoda, 
whose  effigy  is  often  to  be  found  in  the  honaes  of  the 
Order,  and  in  connection  with  the  legend  of  Joan  de 
Mata.  The  slorj  relates  that  Rndegunda  was  the 
daughter  of  Bcrthnirc,  ting  of  Thuringia,  and  that  in 
her  childhood  she  was  carried  away  into  captivity  with 


8T.  PETER  NOIASCO^    .  261 

all  her  family  by  Clothaire  V.,  king  of  Trance  (a.  d. 
564),  who  afterwards  married  her.  "  And  this  queen 
was  a  virtaoos  lady,  much  devoted  to  prayer  and  alms* 
deeds,  often  fasting,  and  chastening  herself  with  hair- 
doth,  which  she  wore  under  her  royal  apparel.  And 
one  day,  as  she  walked  alone  in  the  gardens  of  her 
palace,  she  heard  the  voices  of  prisoners  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wall,  weeping  in  their  fetters,  and  imploring 
pity;  and,  remembering  her  early  sorrows,  she  also 
wept.  And,  not  knowing  how  to  aid  them  otherwise, 
she  betook  herself  to  prayer,  whereupon  their  fetters 
burst  asunder,  and  they  were  loosed  from  captivity. 
And  this  queen  Radegunda  afterwards  took  the  religious 
habit  at  the  hands  of  St.  M^dard,  bishop  of  Noyon, 
founded  a  monastery  for  nuns  at  Poitiers,  and  lived  in 
great  sanctity,  ministering  to  the  poor."  She  is  repre- 
sented with  the  royal  crown,  under  which  flows  a  long 
veil ;  she  has  a  captive  kneeling  at  her  feet,  and  holding 
his  broken  fetters  in  his  hand. 

When  the  Order  of  the  Trinitarians  was  introduced 
into  England  by  Sir  William  Lucy,  of  Charlecote,  on 
his  return  from  the. Crusade,  he  built  and  endowed  for 
them  Thellesford  Priory  in  Warwickshire,  "  and  dedi- 
cated it  to  the  honor  of  God,  St.  John  the  Baptist,  and 
St.  Radegunda." 


The  Ordeb  of  Oub  Lady  of  Mebcy. 

Among  the  converts  of  St.  John  Matha,  when  he 
preached  the  deliverance  of  captives  in  Languedoc,  was 
the  son  of  a  nobleman  of  that  country,  whose  name 
was  Peter  Nolasquc,  or  Nolasco.  In  his  youth  he  had 
served  in  the  crusade  against  the  Albigenses,  and  after- 
wards became  the  tutor  or  governor  of  the  young  king, 
James  of  Aragon.  (Don  Jayme,  el  Conquistador.) 
Struck  with  the  miseries  of  war,  which  he  had  witnessed 
at  an  early  age,  and  by  the  fate  of  the  Christians  who 
were  kept  in  captivity  by  the  Mooit,  he  founded,  in 


i6»   LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OSDKRA.   ] 


n  Juno  Mbis,  m 


T  Ibr  tbe  K 


I 
I 


m  c<iniinnnii]i  (c 
dcmiilioo  or>lav<»  nnd  capiivce,  and  prisoiiBre  for  debt, 
to  whicli  he  gave  ilie  name  o(  "  The  Order  of  Onr 
Lad/  of  Mercy."  This  roantlation  woa  at  first  military 
and  cliivalrouB,  and  c^ooBUtcd  of  kniglils  and  i-eiitlemen, 
vrilli  ouly  e,  tow  roligious  to  surro  in  tbe  choir.  Tbe 
king,  Jajma  el  Conquiatador,  not  only  piaccd  himeelf 
at  tticir  hond,  hut  gave  them  u  a  pcrpcloal  iMidge  hia 
own  arms.  From  Ban-'uluna,  the  Otier  axfended  fer 
a[id  wide,  aod  Peter  Nolasco  wu  the  lirsC  Geueral  or 
Snperior.  From  ihia  limo  his  long  life  waa  apcnt  in 
expcditiana  to  the  vanone  provinces  of  Spain,  theo 
under  iho  dominion  of  the  Moors ;  to  Mnjorcn.  and  to 
the  coBBt  of  Barbary,  whence  he  returned  witli  many 
hundreds  of  redeemed  slaves.     He  died  in  125S. 

TJie  fathan  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  which  had  tost 
its  military  character,  and  become  strictly  religions,  ob- 
tained the  canonization  of  their  Founder  in  1618.  Tha 
Spanish  pwniers  tliereupon  eet  themselves  to  glorify 
their  new  eaint;  and  the  coDvenu  of  [he  Order  of 
Mercy,  particnlariy  La  Merced  at  Seville,  were  filled 
with  picturea  in  his  honor. 

St.  Peter  Nolasco  is  [^presenled  as  an  aged  man, 
wearing  the  white  habit,  and  on  his  breast  tbe  sbield  or 
arms  of  King  James,  tJie  badge  of  Ihe  Order :  this  dis- 
tinguishes him  from  all  mouks  wearing  tbe  white  habit. 
Zurbaran  painted  a  great  number  of  pictures  from  his 
life.  Two  of  the  best  of  these  are  ia  tbe  Uueenm  at 
Madrid  :  —  1.  St.  Peter  Nolasco  beholds  in  a  vision  his 
patron,  St.  Peter  die  Apoatlo,  who  appeals  to  him  on 
a  cross  with  bis  head  downwards.  3.  An  angel  shows 
him  in  a  vision  the  city  of  Jerusalem  :  the  angel  is  vul- 
gar, tlie  kneuling  saint  very  fine.  Several  oilier  pictures 
belonging  to  tbe  same  series,  and  obtaiiied  apparently 
from  tliD  same  convent  (Lb  Merced  at  Seville),  were  in 
the  Soalt  Gallery,  and  others  were  among  the  Spanish 
pictures  collected  by  King  Louis  Philippe,  and  formerly 
in  the  Louvre. 

Connected  with  iliis  order,  aod  often  associaled  w 


ST,  PETER  NOLASCO,  263 

St.  Peter  Nolasco,  is  another  saint,  Rajmond  Nonna- 
tos,  called  by  the  Spaniards  San  Ramon,  who  died  in 
1240  just  after  being  created  a  cardinal  by  Gregory  IX. 
In  consequence  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  attending 
his  birth  he  obtained  the  surname  of  Nonnatus,  and  is 
in  Spain  the  patron  saint  of  midwives  and  women  in 
travail.  Mr.  Stirling  mentions  a  picture  of  San  Ramon 
in  which  he  is  represented  as  having  his  lips  bored 
through  with  a  red-hot  iron,  and  a  padlock  placed  on 
his  mouth ;  according  to  the  legend,  this  was  the  bar- 
barous punishment  inflicted  on  him  while  in  his  voca- 
tion as  a  Friar  of  Mercy  he  was  redeeming  Christian 
captives  among  the  Moors.  Several  interesting  pictures 
in  the  Soult  Gallery  relate  to  this  saint,  and  not  to  St. 
Raymond  de  Penaforte,  who  was  quite  a  difierent  per- 
son, and  belonged  to  the  Dominican  Order.*  One  of 
these  pictures  (in  the  Soult  Catalogue,  No.  22)  repre- 
sents a  chapter  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  held  at  Barcelona, 
in  which  St.  Raymond  Nonnatus,  habited  as  cardinal, 
presides,  and  St.  Peter  Nolasco  is  seated  among  the 
brethren.  Another  (No.  24,  in  the  same  Catalogue) 
represents  the  funeral  obsequies  of  St.  Raymond  :  he  is 
extended  on  a  bier,  wearing  the  mitre  as  general  and 
grand-vicar  of  the  Order,  with  the  cardinal's  hat  lying 
at  his  feet.  The  Pope  and  the  King  who  assist  at  the 
ceremony  are  Gregory  IX.  and  St.  James  of  Aragon. 
Both  these  pictures  formed  part  of  the  series  painted  by 
Znrbaran  for  the  Merced  at  Seville.  Another,  which 
was  in  the  Spanish  Gallery  of  the  Louvre,  represents 
St.  Raymond  wearing  the  white  habit  and  badge  of  the 
Order,  and  the  mitre  as  grand-vicar.  In  the  Cata- 
logue it  is  called,  by  some  extraordinary  mistake,  San 
Carmelo. 

In  the  legend  of  St.  Peter  Nolasco  it  is  related,  that 
when  he  was  old  and  infirm,  two  angels  bore  him  in 
their  arms  to  the  foot  of  the  altar  in  order  to  receive 
the  sacrament,  and  then  carried  him  back  to  his  cell. 
This  is  one  of  the  commonest  subjects  from  the  life  of 

*  The  Hiatoiy  of  St.  Baymond  de  Penaforte  is  givoi  ftirtber  on. 


•EJts!^^^ 


*64  LEOEXDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORD. 

St.  IVKt  NoIuco,  ddiI  it  lulniili  nf  great  (want?  in  tha 
tnaitioeut.  Thero  were  twu  or  ttinie  Bpetdmuiu  in  the 
SHtiduh  Gollory  in  tlie  Loutto.*  Tho  pnot  -wu 
pobUfiuHl  in  1038,  ib«  jtor  in  whioh  St.  Peter  irw 
OMlonixoil. 

S«n  Pedro  Nolasco  fimling  tha  choir  of  his  conYBnt 
oorupiod  hj  iho  Virgin  noil  a  company  at  angels  (in  a 
fine  picture  b;  Bpauni^n).  and  San  Pudni  NolaEO 
DorrectinK  the  noriucs  oF  his  Order  (117  Salcedo),  are 
mentioned  by  Hr.  Stirling.t 

A  ravnritu  subject  in  theao  conTenu  ii  Our  Lady  of 
Mercy,  NaestFa  Sniora  de  la  Merced,  She  is  reprcsunted 
tttandini;,  frowned  with  stars,  and  wearing  on  lier 
iirBBsc  [be  had^  of  tiie  Order,  which  she  likcwiae  holda 
in  lier  liand.  The  atteadant  angels  bear  the  olive,  the 
d  brokvD  fetters,  in  sign  of  peace,  victoiy,  and 


deiivi 


Tqe  Brio  it  tines. 


.0.^^ 


I 


Tbb  last  of  these  bntnchos  of  the  Anpisl 
which  it  is  ncccsaary  10  mcnlion  in  connection  with  ait' 
is  that  of  the  Brigittinea  (or  Biigitta),  founded  by  St. 
Bridget  of  Sweden,  whom  we  niu»t  be  coivful  not  to 
eoDfonod  with  St.  Bridget  the  primitive  saint  of  Ireland. 
This  Si-  Bridget  was  of  the  royal  blood  of  Sweden ;  at 
the  age  of  sixteen  she  married  Ulpho  {W^ulpho  Fulco, 
or  Foulquea),  prince  of  Norica  in  Sweden,  and  was  tho 
mother  of  eight  children.  She  was  singalarly  devout, 
and  iDsplred  her  husband  and  chlldien  with  tho  same 
After  the  death  of  her  busliand  sbe  retired 


t  The  BretiiftbMepicti; 
VakiLi,  dT  wbom,  aod  noi 


le  gcjult  0&U?i7  HUB  gold  sod 
■epraaent,  I  tbink,  St.  Pelii  ds 


ST.  BRIDGET  OF  SWEDEN.  465 

from  the  world ;  and  Bba  bailt  and  endowed,  at  a  great 
expense,  the  monaslerj  of  Wastein,  in  which  she  pUced 
siicty  nnns  and  twenty-four  brothere,  figuring  the  twelve 
apostles  and  seventj-two  disciples  of  Christ.  She  pre- 
scribed to  them  the  rale  of  St.  Angualine,  with  certain 
panicular  constilotioDS  which  are  said  to  hare  been  dic- 
tated to  her  hj  oar  Saviour  in  a  vision.  The  Order 
was  approved  in  1363  bj  Urban  V.,  under  the  title  of 
the  Bule  of  the  Order  of  our  Saviour.  But  the  nans 
always  bore  the  name  of  the  Bri^ttines.  She  was  said 
to  have  been  &vored  by  nianj  reveiationa,  which  were 
afterwards  published.  S)ie  died  in  the  odor  of  eanctitj 
in  1373,  was  canoniied  by  Bonifece  IX.  in  1391,  and 
has  since  been  regaj-ded  as  one  of  the  patron  saints  oi 
Sweden. 

She  is  leprescnlod  of  mature  age,  in  the  dress  of  a 
nun,  wearing  the  black  tunic,  white  wimple,  and  whita 
veil,  which  has  a  red  band  <rom  the  back  to  the  front  and 
across  the  forehesd ;  this  distinguishes  ^e  habit  &oin 
that  of  the  Bcnedicijnee.  She  haa  die  (hosier,  as  first 
abbess  of  the  Order,  and  sometimes  the  pilgrim's  staff 
and  wallet,  to  expresB  her  various  pilgrimages  to  Com- 
postella  and  to  Rome.  The  eariicsl  representation  I 
have  Been  of  this  aaint  is  a  curiona  old  woodcut  in  posses- 
sion of  Lord  Spencer,  of  which  there  is  an  imitation 
in  Otley's  History  of  Engraving.  It  represents  her 
writing  her  revelations.  As  her  disciples  considered 
her  inspired,  the  holy  Dove  is  generally  introdoced  into 
the  devotional  representations  of  this  saint.  In  the 
Church  of  the  Hospital  of  St.  John  at  Florence,  there 
is  a  fine  picture  of  "  Santa  Brigitta  ^ving  the  rule  to 
her  nuns,"  by  Fra  Banolomco.  In  the  Berliit  Oalleij 
(No.  1105,  Lorenzo  di  Pieto)  are  two  carious  piclarea 
■  representing  this  saint  at  a  writing-table  and  one  of  bet 
visions; — -called  there  by  mistake  St.  Catherine  of 

One  of  the  daughters  of  St.  Bridget,  distinguished 
for  her  extreme  piety,  became  Superior  of  the  com- 
manity  alter  the  death  of  ber  mother,  and  was  canoit< 
ized  ander  the  name  of  St.  Catherine  of  Sweden. 


'B^l^^ 


166  LKGtJNDS  Of  THE  JtOXASTIC  ORDi 

The  Onler  of  the  BrigittinM  wm  mtrodnced  into 
Englsncl  ti;  Ilunr;  V.,  and  hod  a  glonouB  mumerj', 
Stan  Honxi  near  BrcDIfard,  which  at  the  Keformiuioa 
¥tu  bcalowed  on  1I10  Uukc  uf  NortbiuDberltuid,  and  Elill 
coatioaes  in  posaossioa  or  his  dcsccndanu.  The  naud, 
drivoD  from  theittacrod  prcdncu,  fled  to  LUbon. irhere 
thof  foand  protection  and  relief;  and  their  Order  &lill 
exisu  there,  but  in  RTcst  poier^.  Some  of  the  beauti- 
ful relics  Biid  vc«menls  which  thej  hod  uirricd  awaj 
Irom  Sion,  and  religiously  prescrvod  in  all  theii  wander- 
ings, ore  now  iu  the  posaeBuoa  of  the  Karl  of  Shrewa- 

Id  the  Madrid  Gallerj  there  is  a  most  bmaiifiil  pit'- 
ture  by  Oiorgione,  representing  a  IotcIj  female  saint 
oHuring  a  basket  of  roses  10  tlie  Madonua,  and  behind 
Iior  a  warrior  saint  with  bis  slandiird.  This  is  called 
in  the  Madrid  Catalogue,  bj  some  strange  mialake,  St. 
Bridget  mid  her  huAand  Fulat.  Thorc  can  be  DO  doubt 
tlial  it  repreeeuK  two  sajula  very  popular  at  Vi!Dii«,  and 
often  occurring  together  in  the  Venetian  pictures  of  tjiat 
time,  St.  Dorothea  and  St.  Geoi-ge,  with  their  ntffl|^ 
attributes.  ^^H 


To  the  Angustines  belong  the  two  great  ^Ut^^l 
Orders,  the  Kuights  TempIsrB  (1118)  and  the  Knigh0 
of  SL  John  of  Jerusalem,  afterwards  styled  of  Malta 
(lOSaj.  The  first  wear  Che  red  cross  on  llio  while  tnan- 
Clc ;  the  second,  the  white  cross  on  the  black  mantle. 
They  may  ihns  Ih!  recognized  in  portraiis ;  but  in 
connection  with  siicred  art  I  have  nothing  to  record 
of  them  here. 


with  BcflptimL  aultjectB  vrorVoi 
ttoD  of  "  Wo  Ai  oE  Medlaisl  Ai 
18M). 


THE  MENDICANT  ORDERS. 


The  Franciscans.       The  Dominicans.      The 

Carmelites. 


HE  three  great  Mendicant  Orders  arose  al- 
most simultaneously  in  the  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century.* 

The  Carmelites,  as  we  shall  see,  claim  for 
themselves  a  very  high  antiquity ;  and  for  their  founder, 
no  other  than  the  prophet  Elijah  himself.  These  claims 
the  Roman  Church  has  not  allowed ;  neither  do  we  find 
the  Carmelites,  at  any  time,  an  infiuential  Order ;  nor 
are  they  conspicuous  in  early  art ;  and  in  modem  art 
they  are  interesting  for  one  saint  only,  the  Spanish  St. 
Theresa.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Franciscans  and 
Dominicans  are  so  important  and  so  interesting  in 
every  respect,  so  intimately  connected  with  the  revival 
of  the  fine  arts  and  their  subsequent  progress,  and  so 
generally  associated  and  contrasted  in  the  imagination, 
that  I  shall  give  them  the  precedence  here ;  and  I  shall 
say  a  few  words  of  them  in  their  relation  to  each  other 
before  I  consider  them  separately. 

In  the  Introduction,  and  in  the  preceding  chapters,  I 
have  touched  upon  that  wonderful  religious  movement 
which,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  threw  men's  minds  into 
a  state  of  fusion.  I  have  described  some  of  its  results. 
Without  doubt,  the  most  important,  the  most  memora- 


I 


e6S  LEG£^^DS  OF  TlUl  MONASTIC  0RDEIiS.1a 

bleofall,  wu  the  ponmiloiutwiD-lrirtli  of  llie  two  great 
mendicBiit  conunamiics  at  Si.  Franna  and  St,  Domi- 
nidL  Their  fomnlcn  were  (wo  men  of  diffbrent  na- 
tfoot,  —  diHcnng  3'ct  more  in  nature,  in  tcmpcnuneTit 
anil  cbaractoT,  —  wlio,  without  anj  pravioua  mnlmJ 
underatMiiding,  had  each  contrived  the  idea  of  uniliDg 
tncti  nnder  a  new  religioux  diactpUnB,  and  for  purpuaea 
yet  uDiliought  of. 

la  the  jear  1316,  Dominick  the  Spaniard,  and  PtuD' 
cia  of  Assrai,  met  at  Rome.  Thej  met  end  cmlirared, 
—  each  recognizing  in  the  other  the  ronipanion  pre- 
dcEtinod  to  aid  the  Church  in  her  eonflict  witli  the 
awiLki:ning  menial  energies,  so  long  reproiaed ;  and  in 
her  attempt  to  guide  or  cmdi  the  aspiriag,  inqniring, 
ardent,  fevered  spirila  of  the  time.  Some  atteinptH  were 
made  to  indoco  them  10  nnito  into  one  greot  body  theit 
separate  inslitutions.  Dominiek  would  have  complied : 
it  may  be  that  ho  thought  to  find  in  FrondB  an  innni- 
ment  as  well  as  an  ally.  Franeis,  perlmps  from  an 
intnitive  perception  of  the  unyielding,  dogmatic  charac- 
ter of  hia  friend,  stood  aloof-  They  roceiYed  from 
Innocent  III.  the  contirmaiioQ  of  their  retpcctive  com- 
munitiea,  "and  parted,"  IB  it  hns  been  well  exprcsEcd, 
"  to  divide  the  world  between  them."  For,  before  the 
end  of  the  centuiy,  —  nay,  in  the  time  of  one  gencra- 
tion,  —  their  followers  had  spread  themselves  in  thou- 
sands, and  leos  of  thouaands,  over  tlie  whole  of  Chriatian 
Europe,  and  sent  forth  their  missionaries  through  every 
region  of  the  then  known  world. 

Both  had  adopted,  as  thmr  fundamenlal  rale,  that  of 
Si.  Augustine ;  and  hence  it  is  that  we  meet  with  pic- 
turea  of  the  Frandacaos  and  Dominicans  in  iho  churches 
of  ihc  Angnstines :  whereas  1  clo  not  remember  meeting 
witt  pictares  of  the  Mendicant  Orders  in  any  of  the 
Benedictine  houses  and  churches ;  such  most,  therefore, 
be  rare,  if  ihey  occnr  at  aQ. 

In  feel,  from  the  beginning,  the  monks  liave  been 


opposed  to  the  frinr 

clergy  had  been  opposed  to  the  monks. 


1,  the  9 


THK  FILmCISCANa  AND  DOMiNlCANB.  169 

TKe  mcmastic  discipline  b&d  hitherto  been  considered 
as  ezactiDg,  in  the  first  place,  seclusion  ti-om  the  world ; 
■ad,  eecondl;,  as  excludiog  all  E^mpathj  with  worldlj 
afbirs.  This,  at  least,  though  often  departed  froin  in 
individual  cases,  was  Ihe  fundameatal  rale  of  all  the 
ttritier  Benedictine  commuaities ;  who,  as  it  seema  to 
me,  whereyer  their  influence  had  worked  for  good,  had 
achieved  that  good  b;  gathering  the  people  to  them,  — 
not  bf  lowering  themselves  to  the  people.  Thej  weie 
aristocratic,  rafiier  than  popular,  communities. 

The  Franciscans  and  Dominicaos  were  to  have  a 
difterent  destination.  They  weie  the  spiritual  demo- 
cnila ;  the;  were  to  mingle  v«lh  the  people,  jet  without 
being  of  the  people  :  they  vntro  to  lako  cognizance  of  all 
private  and  public  affairs ;  of  all  those  domestic  concerns 
and  affections,  cares  and  pleasures,  from  which  their 
TOWS  personally  cut  them  oflT.  They  were  to  possess 
nothing  they  could  caJl  their  Own,  either  as  a  body 
or  individually ;  they  were  to  beg  from  their  fetlow- 
Christians  food  and  raiment:  —  such,  at  least,  was  the 
original  rule,  thoagh  this  article  waa  speedily  modified. 
Their  vocation  was  to  loot  afler  liw!  stray  sheep  of  the 
fbld  of  Christ ;  to  pray  with  those  who  prayed ;  10  weep 
with  those  who  wept ;  to  preach,  to  e:<horl,  to  rebuke, 
to  advise,  to  comfort,  without  distinction  of  place  or 
person.  The  privilege  of  ministering  in  the  offices  of 
religion  was  not  theirs  at  first,  but  was  afterwards  con- 
ceded. They  were  not  10  be  called  Padri,  lathers,  but 
FraH  (or  Prari,  Freres,  Friars),  Suori,  brothers  aitd 
listers  of  all  men :  and  as  tlie  Dominicans  had  taken 
the  title  of  FnUi  Pmiicatori,  preaching  brothen ;  ao 
Francis,  m  his  humility,  had  styled  his  community 
Frati  Miiiori,  Frlres  Miaeurs,  Minorites,  or  lesser  hroth- 
era.  In  England,  from  tho  color  of  their  habits,  they 
were  distioguiahod  as  tho  Biaei-Friara,  and  the  Grog' 
Friari,  names  which  they  have  bequeathed  to  certain 
districts  in  London,  and  which  are  familiar  to  us  at  this 
day:  but  it  does  not  appear  that  the  Mendicant  Orders 
evoF  possessed,  in  England,  the  wealth,  the  power,  or 
the  popolari^  of  the  Benediciittes. 


eS^^ 


170  LEGENDS  OF  THE  UONASTIC  ORDl 

One  important  innovMinn  on  the  raJa  and  msloma 
of  all  citiBiing  religion*  communiriiM  wn»  rantnioD  to 
the  Franriscana  and  Dominifraof  ;  and,  while  It  ax- 
tended  thvir  influence,  and  coneolidated  Ibeir  poirer,  it 
WB«  of  incali'nlahle  lervice  to  the  pn^reu  of  dviliialiaa 
and  morals,  —  consequently  to  the  cauao  of  ChriBtianity. 
This  was  tbo  admtseion  into  both  commnnitiea  of  a 
third  class  of  members  (beeides  the  professed  frian  and 
nnna),  called  the  Tcrtiarf  Order,  or  Thinl  Order  of 
I'enitenfre.  It  included  both  sexes,  and  all  ranks  of 
life  ;  the  meraboTB  were  not  bound  by  vowb,  nor  were 
ihey  Toqnired  to  (juit  their  secular  occnpations  and  dO' 
mostic  duties,  though  they  entered  into  an  obligation  to 
renoance  secular  pleasures  and  vanities,  to  make  resci- 
intion  where  Ihej  had  done  wrong,  to  be  true  and  just 
in  all  their  dealings,  to  be  charitable  to  the  extent  of 
their  means,  and  never  to  take  up  weapon  c^tctpl  Hgainac 
the  enemies  of  Clirisl.  Could  such  a  brotherhood  have 
been  rendered  universal,  and  could  Cliristians  have 
agreed  on  the  question,  "who,  among  men,  Christ 
himnelf  would  have  eoitsidered  as  his  enemies?"  we 
should  have  hud  a  heaven  upon  cnrth,  or  at  least  Iho 
Apostolic  institutions  reslored  to  us ;  but,  with  every 
drawback  cansed  by  sapeislition  and  ignorance,  hy 
fierce,  ctqcI,  and  warlike  habits,  this  inatituiion,  diffiised 
■B  it  was  through  every  nation  of  Europe,  did  more  to 
elevate  the  moral  standard  among  the  laity,  more  to 
Christianize  the  people,  than  any  other  that  existed 
before  the  invention  of  printing.  It  is  necessary  lo 
keep  this  "Third  Order"  in  mind,  to  enable  ns  to 
understand  some  of  llie  stories  and  pictures  which  wilt 
be  noticed  hereafter;  those,  for  instance,  which  [«lale 
to  St.  Ives  and  Si.  Catherine  of  Siena. 

The  distinction  between  theFrandscans  and  Domin- 
icans lay  aat  in  essentials,  but  merely  in  points  of 
discipline,  and  difference  uf  dress. 

In  pictares  the  obvious  aud,  at  flrst  sight,  the  only 
apparent  distinction   between  the  two   Orders  is  tbo 


THE  FRANCISCANS  AND  DOMINICANS.  271 

habit ;  we  should  therefore  be  able,  at  a  glance,  to  tell 
a  Franciscan  from  a  Dominican  by  its  form  and  color. 
This  is  so  essential  a  preliminary  that  I  shall  here  de- 
scribe the  proper  costume  of  each,  that  the  contrast 
may  be  impressed  on  the  memory. 

The  habit  of  the  Franciscans  was  originally  gray,  and 
it  is  gray  in  all  the  ancient  pictures.  After  the  first 
two  centuries  the  color  was  changed  to  a  dark  brown. 
It  consists  of  a  plain  tunic,  with  long  loose  sleeves,  — 
less  ample,  however,  than  those  of  the  Benedictines. 
The  tunic  is  fastened  round  the  waist  with  a  knotted 
cord.  This  cord  represents  symbolically  the  halter  or 
bridle  of  a  subdued  beast,  for  such  it  pleased  Francis  to 
consider  the  body  in  its  subjection  to  the  spirit.  A 
cape,  rather  scanty  in  form,  hangs  over  the  shoulders, 
and  to  the  back  of  the  cape  is  affixed  a  hood,  drawn 
over  the  head  in  cold  or  inclement  weather. 

The  Franciscan  nuns  wear  the  same  dress,  only  in- 
stead of  a  hood  they  have  a  black  veil. 

The  habit  of  the  Dominicans  is  a  white  woollen 
gown,  fastened  round  the  waist  with  a  white  girdle : 
over  this  a  white  scapular  (a  piece  of  cloth  hanging 
down  from  the  neck  to  the  feet,  like  a  long  apron  before 
and  behind) :  over  these  a  black  cloak  with  a  hood. 
The  lay  brothers  wear  a  black  scapular. 

The  Dominican  nuns  have  the  same  dress,  with  a 
white  veil. 

The  members  of  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Francis  are 
distinguished  by  the  cord  ^^«rn  as  a  girdle.  Those  of 
the  Third  Order  of  St.  Dominick  have  the  black  mantle 
or  the  black  scapular  over  a  white  gown ;  the  women, 
a  black  cloak  and  a  white  veil. 

The  Dominicans  are  always  shod.  The  Franciscans 
are  generally  barefoot,  or  wear  a  sort  of  wooden  sandal 
called,  in  Italy,  a  zoccolo ;  hence  the  name  of  Zoccolanti 
sometimes  given,  in  Italy,  to  the  Franciscan  friars. 

The  dress,  therefore,  forms  the  obvious  and  external 
distinction  between  the  two  Orders.     But,  in  consider- 


»7»  LEGESm  OF  TflE  MOyjJSTlC  ORDERS. 

itte  thiin  in  thvir  connwliun  with  Nrt,  it  will  b«  intw- 
Miiii);  tu  inu.li  imuilicr  wail  s  Tar  <lue]ii!r  Houmi  of  cod- 
tnut.  Aa  tlic  two  caronuuiincB  luva  pneerml.  through 
their  whole  esiBicuce  of  six  hundred  jonra  and  more. 
•niuettiirip  of  iJiBtdiuaclororigiiiallf  improssed  bj  llteir 
fouiulun ;  n)  in  liiruirea,  and  in  all  tlic  forms  of  art, 
we  &el  ihia  distinctive  cbarocter  as  eeuaiblv  aa  we  should 
tbs  euuntennnm  *ad  baariiig  of  two  individuals.  I 
invan,  vl  cgurBv,  \a  genuioo  art,  not  in  ^titiuuB  art,  — 
trt  M  the  iDlerprctor,  not  Llia  imitator. 

Two  celebrated  ptaaagn  ia  Dante  (pKmdiso,  c,  xi.) 
pvo  iM  the  key  to  this  diBtiart  cbstKcter.  niidcrod  by 
the  |;rEat  psiiilera  ea  troi;  as  by  thu  great  potl. 

Dominick  was  a  inun  of  letters  ;  a  scliooUnan,  com- 
pU'tely  urmed  with  all  the  weapotu  of  theology;  elo- 
([uent  by  naCnro ;  siru.'ero,  aa  we  cannot  doubt ;  iu 
rnmcst  in  all  his  cuuvictions ;  but,  as  Daiilc  poctrajs 
Iiini,  Saiigito  ai  suiN*  «/  ai  nanici  cnttfc.     (c.  xii.) 


The  J 


Eeslle  la  mm 


In  other  words,  nngcmpuloiiB,  iDBccossible  to  pity,  and 
"wise  as  the  serpent"  in  carrying  oat  hiB  retigioiu 
vlcwd  BJid  purposes. 

Francis,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  wild  and  yet  gentle 
cDtbusiast,  who  flod  from  the  world  to  espoiue  the 
"  Lmiy  Poverty  "  ;  a  man  ignorant  and  unlettered,  but 
of  a  iMwticiil  natoTB,  passioDat«  in  all  its  sympathies  :  — 
in  Dante's  words,  Tulio  terq/ia)  iu  ardon.  "  The  one 
lilte  the  cherub  io  wisdom,  the  other  like  the  seraph  in 
ferror."  The  first  would  accept  notbiog  irom  the 
Church  bat  permission  to  combat  her  enemies;  the 
latter,  nolJjing  but  the  privilege  of  euflcring  in  her 
cause.  And  the  character  of  the  combatant  and  peui- 
tent,  of  the  uclht  and  the  amtetnfihtim  religious  life,  re- 
mained generally  and  externally  impressed  on  the  two 
commanitjes,  even  when  both  hod  fallen  away  from 
their  primitive  austerity  of  discipline. 

The  Domimcons  as  a  body  neic  the  most  learned 


THE  FRANCISCANS  AND  DOMINICANS,  273 

and  the  most  energetic.  We  find  them  constantly 
arrayed  on  the  side  of  power.  They  remained  more 
compact,  and  never  broke  np  into  separate  reformed 
communities,  as  was  the  case  afterwards  with  the  Fran- 
ciscans. Their  greatest  canonized  saints  were  men 
who  had  raised  themselves  to  eminence  by  learning,  by 
eloquence,  by  vigorous  intellect  or  resolute  action. 

The  Franciscans  aspired  to  a  greater  degree  of  sanc- 
tity and  humility,  and  a  more  absolute  self-abnegation. 
They  were  most  loved  by  the  people.  They  were 
among  the  Catholics  of  the  thirteenth  century  what  the 
Methodists  of  the  last  century  were  with  us.  Their 
most  famous  saints  were  such  as  had  descended  from 
worldly  power  and  worldly  eminence,  to  take  refuge  in 
their  profession  of  lowly  poverty  and  their  abject  self- 
immolation,  rendered  attractive  to  the  high-bom  and 
high-bred  by  the  very  force  of  contrast.  The  Francis- 
cans boast  of  several  princely  saints ;  which  is  not,  I 
believe,  the  case  with  the  Dominicans.  The  latter  have, 
however,  one  canonized  mart3rr  in  their  ranks,  their 
famous  St.  Peter,  more  glorious  in  their  own  estimation 
than  all  the  Franciscan  royalties  together :  but  on  this 
point,  as  we  shall  see,  opinions  differ.  He  was  certainly 
the  incarnate  spirit  of  the  Order. 

I  have  taken  here  the  picturesque  and  poetical  aspect 
of  the  two  Orders,  which,  of  course,  is  that  which  we 
are  to  seek  for  in  sacred  art,  where  a  fat  jovial  Fran- 
ciscan would  be  a  solecism :  a  gross,  arrogant,  self- 
seeking  Dominican,  not  less  so.  As  the  painters  em- 
ployed by  each  generally  took  their  models  from  the 
convents  in  which,  and  for  which,  they  worked,  we  may 
read  no  unmeaning  commentary  on  the  progressive 
history  of  the  two  communities  in  the  pale,  spiritual, 
thoughtful,  heavenward  look  of  the  Friars  in  the  early 
pictures ;  and  the  commonplace  and  often  basely  vul- 
gar heads  which  are  so  hatefully  characteristic  of  the 
degenerate  friarhood  in  some  of  the  later  pictures,  and 
more  particularly  in  the  second-rate  Spanish  and  Bo- 
lognese  schools. 

18 


176  LEGLNDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEBt 

icrranU,  ItccolleM,  the  flnt  gliince  round  the  walls  sod 
ullon  will  prabubly  cxliibii  to  ns,  singl;  or  grouped,  or 
anmadtng  od  the  Madonna,  their  eight  principal  eiuata, 
called  in  Italian  /  Cardini  ddl  Ordine  Sen^/ial;  —  •^  The 
Chie6  of  iho  Seraphic  Order." 

In  the  first  and  highest  plant  St.  Francis,  ai  &e 
Padn  Senjft",  putriarch  and  founder. 

St.  Clara,  as  the  Modn  Strqfiat,  first  Franciscan  nun 
and  ToundrGSB  of  the  Ponere  Doime  (Poor  Clares). 

St.  Bonaventura,  U  DoUort  Sennfira,  the  great  prel- 
ate of  tho  Order,  aoiaetinica  as  a  simple  Franciscan 
friar,  sometimes  as  cardinal ;  often  grouped  nil!)  St, 
Clara,  and  witb  St.  Loims. 

St.  Antany  of  Padua.  He  generally  figures  as  the 
•ptndimt  to  St.  Francis,  being  the  second  great  luminary 
and  mirade-worker  of  the  Order;  bo  is  very  cooapicUDUB 
in  Spanish  art. 

St.  Bernardino  of  Siena ;  tbe  great  preacher  and 
reformer  of  the  Order. 

Then  the  three  princely  saints :  St.  lAuia.  ting  of 
France ;  St.  Lotus,  bishop  of  Toalonse ;  and  the  charm- 
ing St.  Elizabeth  of  Hangary,  with  ber  crowD  on.  her 
head,  and  her  tap  full  of  roses,  conspicuous  in  Gennaa 

FolloiringaAer  these,  and  of  less  unirereal  popult 
we  find,  — 

St.  Margaret  of  Cortona,  in  Italian  piclures  only.  \ 

St.  Ives  of  Bretagno. 

St.  Eleasar  of  Sabran. 

St.  Bosa  di  Viterbo. 
(These  four  belonged  to  the  Third  Order  of 

St.  John  Capistrano. 

St.  Peter  Kijgalato. 
Aud  chiefly  io  Spanish  pictures, — 

St.  Juan  de  Dios. 

St.  Felix  de  Canialicio. 

St.  Peier  of  Alcantara. 

St  Diego  of  Alcala. 

Any  works  of  art  in  which  wo  find  one  ( 


THE  FRANCISCANS.  277 

these  personages  conspicuons,  we  may  safely  conclude 
to  have  been  originally  executed  for  a  community  of 
Franciscans,  or  for  the  purpose  of  being  placed  in  one 
of  their  churches. 

A  signal  instance  of  a  picture  dedicated  to  the  honor 
of  the  Franciscan  saints  is  to  be  found  in  a  grand  altar- 
piece  in  the  Church  of  San  Bernardino  at  Verona,  of 
which  it  is  written  in  Murray's  Handbook,  — "  No 
lover  of  art  should  pass  through  Verona  without  seeing 
this  picture  "  :  and  I  venture  to  add  my  testimony  to 
its  exceeding  beauty.  The  Virgin  and  Child  are  seated 
in  glory;  and  on  each  side  are  St.  Francis  and  St. 
Antony  of  Padua,  nearly  on  an  equality  \vith  the  celes- 
tial personages.  Around  these,  and  mingled  with  the 
choir  of  angels,  are  seven  beautiful  seraphic  or  allegori- 
cal figures,  bearing  the  attributes  of  the  Seven  Cardinal 
Virtues.  Below  on  the  earth  stand  six  Franciscan 
saints ;  on  the  right  of  the  Virgin,  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary,  St.  Bonaventura,  and  St.  Louis,  king ;  on 
the  left,  St.  Eleazar  of  Sabran,  St.  Louis  of  Toulouse, 
and  St.  Ives  ;  below  these  in  the  centre  is  seen  the  half- 
length  of  the  votary  who  dedicated  this  fine  picture,  a 
certain  Madonna  Caterina  de'  Sacchi,  who  appears 
veiled  and  holding  a  rosary.  The  lower  group,  painted 
by  Paolo  Morando  (or  Cavazzola,  a.  d.  1522),  is  much 
superior  to  the  upper  part  of  the  picture.  Morando 
died  young  while  he  was  at  work  upon  it,  and  it  was 
finished  by  Francesco  Morone. 

Some  of  these  saints  are  personally  so  interesting, 
their  lives  and  actions  so  full  of  matter  and  so  signifi- 
cant, that  it  is  with  difficulty  I  refrain  from  following 
out  the  track  of  thought  suggested  to  my  own  mind : 
and  though,  as  Wordsworth  writes,  — 

**  Nuns  fret  not  at  their  convent^s  narrow  room, 
And  hermits  are  contented  with  their  cells,^* 

I  could  sometimes  feel  inclined  to  fret  at  the  narrow  . 
limits  of  artistic  illustration  within  which  I  am  bound.  ' 
But,  without  further  pause,  I  must  now  endeavor  to  /" 


j-S  LEOKKDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


Ehow  tliroogh  what  real  or  imaginar;  mBiitc  each,  hai 
earned  hia  or  her  raeod  of  glorification,  and  by  what 
chnmcleriatic  attribntes  tbej  an  to  be  recognized  and 
distinguiahed  from  each  otlier. 


Lat.  BuwRii  FraDcluoa,  Pim  Bcraphicqi 


91  Inlsi.    Fr.  8ili>i 


n.  ^Irdml  vUh  a  hfmpen  cd 


llJf  1  A.  Tile  luDb. 

Tns  fallier  of  ihis  famong  saint,  Pictro  Bemsrdt 
of  AsBisI,  was  H  rich  mi>n'hnnt,  who  traded 
wool.  Hia  mother'a  namo  was  Pii?a.  He  wa 
GiovHuni ;  but  hia  father,  who  carried  on  large  dealinga 
wi(b  France,  bad  intendvd  his  uldrsi  mn  to  be  his  chief 
agent  and  sacresBor,  and  had  him  taught  earl;  to  apeak 
the  French  laognage :  thi«  woe,  for  the  time  and  tocal- 
itj,  a  rare  accompliahment,  and  his  companions  called 
him  Fraaccsco,  —  tht  t'Ttnchman.  The  name  auporscded 
hia  own,  and  remained  to  him  through  life ;  b;  that 
name  he  became  celebrated,  venerated,  cnnooijiid;  and 
it  has  since  bees  adopted  as  a  common  baptismal  name 
through  weatem  Christendorn. 

Frands,  ia  bis  boyish  years,  was  remnrkable  only 
for  hia  vanity,  prodigality,  and  love  of  pleaanra.  He 
delighted  eapccially  in  gay  and  sumptuous  apparel ;  hut 
he  was  also  compassion st«,  as  ready  lo  ^ve  as  to  spend, 
and  beloved  b;  hia  rompanioni  and  fellow-cilizeDg. 
Thus  passed  the  first  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  his  lite. 
In  a  quarrel  between  the  inhabitants  of  Assisi  and  those 
of  Perugia,  they  had  recourse  to  arras.  Francis  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  remained  for  a  year  in  the  fortress 
of  Perugia ;  on  this  occasion  ho  showed  both  patience 
and  courage.     On  his  retam  home,  he  was  seized  with 


4.  Th^^^^ 

rdoi^^^l 

(tenei^l^H 


aenevi 


Ls  fever,  and  languished  Ibr  weeks  oi 


jick-ljcd.     Burini 


this   E 


1  bis  tlioughts 


BT.  FRAJfCIS  OF  AB3IBI.  179 

often  tamed  tovnrds  God ;  a  comcioiuncsi  of  hii  lioi, 
■  feeling  of  contempt  for  ifae  world  and  its  vanitiM, 
tank  deep  inco  hit  mind.  He  had  been  broof^l  in  hia 
joung  jeeaa  so  near  to  deaih,  ihit  life  iuelt  took  a 
shade  frt>ni  the  contemplation. 

Sooa  after  his  lecoveTj  he  went  forth,  ricltl?  dressed 
u  nioal,  and  met  a  poor  man,  in  filthy  ragged  gai- 
nMDls,  who  b^ged  an  alms  for  ^e  lore  of  God.  Fran- 
da,  looking  on  him,  recognued  one  who  bad  fonnerly 
beeo  ranked  with  the  richest  and  noblest  of  the  citj,  and 
bad  held  a  command  in  the  expedition  against  Perugia. 
liklted  with  compeasion,  be  took  off  his  rich  dieas,  gare 
it  to  the  mendicant,  and,  taking  the  other's  tattered 
cloak,  threw  it  round  bia  own  shoulden.  That  tome 
night,  tieing  asleep,  he  had  a  vision,  in  which  he  fancied 
himself  in  a  magnificent  clmmber,  and  all  aionnd  were 
piled  ap  riches  and  jewels  innumerablo,  and  arms  of 
all  kinds  marked  with  tlie  sign  of  the  cross ;  and  in  the 
midst  stood  the  lignre  of  Christ,  who  said  to  hira, 
*'  These  are  the  riches  reserved  Gjr  mj  servants,  and 
the  weapons  wberewith  1  arm  those  who  fight  in  mj 
canse."  And  when  Francis  awoke,  hs  thought  that 
Proridenee  had  intended  bim  for  a  great  captain,  for 
be  knew  not  yet  his  trne  vocation.  Soon  afterwards  he 
went  into  the  Chntch  of  San  Damiano  to  pray.  Now 
this  chorch  which  stands  not  far  from  the  eastern  gate 
of  Assisi,  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  falling  into  rain;  and 
as  he  knelt  before  a  crucifix,  he  heard  in  bis  soal  a 
TOice  which  said  to  him,  "Francis,  repajr  m;  Church, 
which  &lleth  to  ruin  I "  He,  not  nndeiBtanding  tha 
sense  of  tb«ee  woids,  believed  that  the  church  wherein 
be  knelt  was  signified ;  therefore  be  hastened  home,  and 
taking  some  pieces  of  cloth  and  other  merchandise,  sold 
then)  aitd  carried  the  money  to  the  prieats  of  San  Da- 
miano for  the  reparation  of  the  cborch.  Whereat  hla 
&tlier,  being  in  great  wrath,  pursued  bim  to  bring  him 
lack;  but  Francis  fled  and  hid  himself  for  many  days 
in  A  cave,  being  in  fear  of  his  father.  At  length,  taking 
bearthecanteontsndtetnraedtotbedty;  bntduoged. 


I 

I 


ago  l^GEfiDS  OF  THE  ilOlfASTIC  ORDERS.^ 

piUid,  worn  with  hanger,  his  looks  dietnicttd,  hU  gtz- 
taeou  Miilcd  Hiiil  torn,  so  tliot  no  one  knew  him,  and 
the  rerj  children  in  iho  strecis  pnnned  biro  Bi  a  mul- 
iDBii.  These  and  all  other  liumilisdons  Frands  now 
rogardod  as  the  triala  to  which  he  was  (*llcd,  and  which 
wore  to  neher  him  on  hid  path  to  itineration.  His 
radicr,  believing  him  frantic,  shut  him  up  and  bouDd 
liim  in  hii  chamber ;  bat  his  mother,  having  pity  on 
her  own  son,  went  and  delivered  him,  and  spoke  to  him 
wonia  of  eomfort,  entreating  him  a>  have  padenco,  and 
Id  be  obedient  to  his  parents,  and  not  lo  shame  ihctn 
and  all  their  kindred  by  bis  wild  nnscemlj  dpportmcnl. 
As  he  persisted,  his  &ther  took  him  before  the  biahop, 
a  tnild  and  holy  man ;  and  when  Frandl  beheld  the 
bishop,  he  flnng  himself  at  his  teet,  and,  abjoring  at 
once  parenla,  home,  heritage,  he  tore  off  his  garments, 
and  flung  tbom  to  his  bihcr,  saying,  "  Henrctbrth  I 
ren^nize  no  father  hot  Him  who  is  in  heaven  I "  Then 
the  bishop  wept  with  admirHlion  and  tenderness,  and 
ordered  his  attendants  to  give  Francis  a  clonk  to  cover 
him  :  it  was  of  the  coarsest  staff,  beinp:  taken  Irom  a 
beggar  who  «t<M)d  by;  bat  Francis  received  it  joyfiiUy 
and  thankrully  as  the  first-lraits  of  that  poverty  to  which 
he  had  dedicated  himself. 

He  was  tlien  in  his  Iwenly-lifth  year,  and  from  that 
time  forth  he  lived  as  one  who  had  east  away  life. 

His  Grst  care  was  to  go  lo  an  hospital  of  lepers,  to 
whom  he  devoted  himself  with  lender  and  unwearied 
charily.  This  was  in  him  the  more  meritorioas,  be- 
cause previous  to  bis  conversion  he  conld  not  look  upon 
a  leper  without  a  feeling  of  lepugnance,  whieh  made 
him  sick  even  to  faintness. 

Then  ha  want  wandering  over  those  beautiful  Uto- 
brian  mountains  from  Assisi  to  Gabbio,  singing  with  a 
loud  voice  hj^na  (alia  Fraraxse,  as  the  old  l^end  ex- 
proBsei  it,  whatever  that  may  mean),  and  praising  God 
for  all  things ;  —  for  the  sun  which  sliono  above  " 
day  and  for  the  night;  for  his  tnolher  the  earth,  and  1 


ST,  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST.  281 

his  sister  the  moon ;  for  the  winds  which  blew  in  his 
face ;  for  the  pore  precious  water,  and  for  the  jocund 
fire;  for  the  flowers  under  his  feet,  and  for  the  stars 
above  his  head ;  —  saluting  and  blessing  all  creatures, 
whether  animate  or  inanimate,  as  his  brethren  and  sis^ 
ters  in  the  Lord. 

Thus,  in  prayer,  in  penance,  in  charity,  passed  some 
years  of  his  life.  He  existed  only  on  alms,  begged 
from  door  to  door,  and  all  but  what  sufficed  to  stay  the 
pangs  of  hunger  was  devoted  to  the  reparation  of  the 
church  of  San  Damiano  and  other  churches  and  chapels 
in  that  neighborhood.  Among  these  was  a  little  chapel 
dedicated  to  the  "  Queen  of  Angels,"  in  the  valley  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  Assisi  stands.  (S.  Man& 
degli  Angeli.)  Here  he  inhabited  a  narrow  cell,  and 
the  fame  of  his  piety  and  humility  attracted  to  him  sev- 
eral disciples.  One  day,  being  at  mass,  he  heard  the 
text  from  St.  Luke,  "  Take  nothing  for  your  journey, 
neither  staves,  nor  scrip,  nor  bread,  nor  money,  nor  two 
coats  "  :  and  regarding  this  as  an  immediate  ordinance, 
he  adopted  it  as  the  rule  of  his  life.  He  was  already 
barefoot,  poorly  clad,  a  mendicant  for  the  food  which 
sustained  him.  There  was  but  one  superfluity  he  pos- 
sessed ;  it  was  his  leathern  girdle.  He  threw  it  from 
him,  and  took  one  of  nempen  cord,  which  being  after- 
wards adopted  by  his  followers,  they  have  been  thence 
styled  by  the  people  Cordeliers. 

Having  thus  prepared  himself  for  his  mission  in  the 
manner  commanded  in  the  Gtospel,  he  set  forth  to  preach 
repentance,  charity,  humility,  abnegation  of  the  world, 
*— a  new  life,  in  short;  and  everywhere  he  preached 
without  study,  trusting  that  God  would  put  into  his 
mind  what  he  ought  to  utter  for  the  edification  of 
others. 

It  was,  as  I  have  said,  a  time  of  great  and  general 
sufiering,  —  of  sorrow,  and  of  change,  —  of  mental  and 
moral  ferment.  Men's  minds  were  predisposed  to  be 
excited  by  the  marvellous,  and  melted  by  the  pathetic, 
in  religion ;  and  the  words  of  Francis  fell  upon  them 


I 


tlxJ^OEKDS  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  OSDERB. 

I  of  fire  npon  thodty«imm(ir  gnat.     Muj, 
to  enthuttasm  hj  his  prcaehiDg-,  joined  ibeia- 
o  him  ;  and  unonj;  Ibcce  bis  earliest  disciplel 
Ibni  an  csperially  mentimiod  and  commemorated,' 
Silnwtro.  Bemarilo,  l/ao,  snd  Gilcfi  (or  £gidio).     ' 
lint  female  disi^iple  was  a  maiden  of  nobis  bmilj, 
d'AMui,  whote  narj  I  iball  haro  to  relate  bor^ter.^ 

It  being  necessary  to  bind  his  followers  togetlier, 
to  him,  by  a  role  of  life  witicb  should  be  liLersilj  that 
of  the  apostles,  bo  made  the  first  conditiun  absolute 
poverty  ;  his  followers  were  to  possess  nUhimi,  —  hence 
the  picturesque  allegory  of  hisespauBals  with  The  Lady 
Fovertj,  to  which  I  shall  have  to  relam.  Meantime, 
to  parsDO  the  courso  of  his  life,  he  repaired  to  Rome  lo 
obtain  the  sanitioo  of  the  Pope  for  his  new  institolion. 
lanoccnt  LU,  was  too  cautioiis  to  lend  himself  HI  iiist 
to  what  appeared  the  exRavagance  of  a  fanatic  enthosi- 
ait.  Francis,  being  repulsed,  retired  to  the  hospital  of 
St.  Antony:  but  that  night,  as  is  related  by  St,  Bonsr 
yentm^  the  Pope  waa  admonished  by  a  dream  in  which 
he  beheld  the  walls  of  tlie  IiOtcran  tottering  and  about 
to  foil,  while  the  poor  enthusiast  whom  he  had  rejected 
in  the  morning  sustained  the  weight  upon  bis  shoulders. 
The  Pope  OQ  awaking  sent  for  him,  confirmed  the  rule 
of  his  Order,  and  gave  him  a  fiill  dispensation  to  preach. 
St.  Francis  then  returned  to  his  humble  cell  in  the 
Fonioncnia,*  and  built  other  cells  oromid  for  his  disci- 

*  "Bm  lenD  FoTxirnviittay  which  occurs  vo  perpfltniUIr  fn  nrf^r- 


HtUA  ahhpel  \  bolh  beLoaged  to 
ptrllft  dsJU  PonsloucDUi.^^    Whi 


ST,  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST.  283 

pies.  He  gave  to  his  followers  the  name  of  "FraU 
Minori"  to  signify  the  humility  and  the  suhmission  en- 
joined them,  and  that  they  should  strive  everywhere, 
not  for  the  first  and  highest  place,  but  for  the  last  and 
lowest.  They  were  not  to  possess  property  of  any  kind, 
nor  would  he  allow  any  temporal  goods  to  be  vested  in 
his  Order :  nor  would  he  snfibr  during  his  life  any  build- 
ing or  convent  in  it,  that  he  might  say  with  perfect 
truth  he  possessed  nothing.  The  spirit  of  Holy  Poverty 
was  to  be  the  spirit  of  his  Order.  He  prescribed  that 
the  churches  built  for  them  should  be  low  and  small, 
and  all  their  buildings  of  wood ;  but,  some  representing 
to  him  that  wood  is  in  many  places  dearer  than  stone,  he 
struck  out  this  last  condition.  To  extreme  austerity  he 
joined  profound  humility  of  heart ;  he  was  in  his  own 
eyes  the  basest  and  most  despicable  of  men,  and  desired 
to  be  so  reputed  by  all.  If  others  commended  him,  he 
replied  humbly,  "  What  every  one  is  in  the  eyes  of  God, 
that  I  am  and  no  more."  He  was  endowed  with  what 
his  biographer  calls  an  extraordinary  **  gift  of  tears  " ; 
he  wept  continually  his  own  sins  and  those  of  others ; 
and,  not  satisfied  with  praying  for  the  conversion  of  the 
heathen,  he  resolved  to  go  and  preach  to  the  Mahome- 
tans in  Syria,  and  to  obtain  the  crown  of  martyrdom : 

fled  fts  the  Boene  of  the  ecstasies  and  visions  of  the  saint :  here 
also  St.  Clara  made  her  profession :  particular  indulgences  were 
granted  to  those  who  visited  it  for  confession  and  repentance  on 
the  6th  of  August,  and  it  became  a  celebrated  place  of  pilgrimage 
in  the  fourteenth  century.  Mr.  Ford  tells  us  that  in  Spain  the 
term  Porzioncula  is  applied  generally  to  distinguish  the  chapel 
or  sanctuary  dedicated  to  St.  Francis  within  the  Franciscan 
churches.  The  original  chapel  of  the  Porzioncula  now  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  magnificent  church  which  has  been  erected 
over  it.  The  church  and  chapel  were  both  much  iigured  by  an 
earthquake  in  1832,  but  the  chapel  was  restored  firom  the  old  mate- 
rials, and  the  exterior  is  adorned  with  frescos  by  Overbeck.  It  is 
a  small  building,  —  might  contain,  perhaps,  thirty  persons  *,  but  I 
did  not  take  the  measurement :  it  looks  small  under  the  lofty  dome 
of  the  edifice  which  now  encloses  it,  and  also  the  **  narrow  cell  ** 
near  it,  called  the  "Stansa  di  S.  Franeeteo." 


ll4  LEGENDS  OF  TIIL  MOSASTIC  ORDERS. 


bal  he  wai  Anwa  bnfk  y>y  h  «tonn.  Aiterwards  io 
IIU,  he  Mt  fbnh  to  pn-orh  die  Guspvl  in  Muroi'co. 
But  in  tniTclliiig  ihrougli  Sgiain  he  was  aloppod  I 
lickncss  &nd  oiber  obeiorles,  go  that  he  did  not  oi  ' 
DTouion  pnMTod  W  Africa ;  hut,  after  performing  n 
minu^les  tii  Spnin,  w  '  '  " 
tiirnwl  10  Ilaly. 

~  "  IT  the  first  iiutimtion  of  hie  Order.  ! 

Fnnris  lu^ld  the  Ant  GenenJ  Chapter  in  the  pimn  at 
ttio  foot  of  the  hill  of  Asiifli,  Five  thooaand  of  his 
friuts  assembled  on  this  occasion.  Tht»  famous  Chap- 
ter is  csUod,  in  the  histor;  of  his  Order.  "  The  Chapier 
of  Mats,"  becaoBO  tbej  had  erBcted  boolhs  covered  with 
mats  to  shelter  them.  They  gave  themselves  no  ears 
what  thoj  should  cat  or  what  Ihey  should  drink,  for  the 
inhnhitanta  of  Assi^,  Spoleto,  Pemgio,  and  Foli^o 
eupplied  them  with  all  they  needed  ;  and  sneh  was  the 
genGral  enthusiasm,  that  the  Cardinal  Proterlor  Ugolfno 
(aftorwardu  Gregory  IS.),  and  iVanpia  himself,  were 
ohlii^d  to  moderate  the  anstcritiea  and  mortiQeatioait 
to  whith  the  Iriais  volontaiily  eubjeetod  themselves. 
On  this  occuision  he  sent  Tnieaionories  into  Tarioos  eonn- 
tries,  reserving  to  himself  Syria  and  Egypt,  where  he 
hoped  to  crown  his  tabon  by  a  glorious  martyrdarn 
for  [ha  cause  of  Christ.     But  it  was  not  so  ordered. 

Ho  arrived  at  Damietts,  he  penetrated  to  the  camp 
of  the  infidels,  and  was  carried  before  the  sullnn.  The 
Eultun  asked  him  what  brooght  him  there*  to  whieh 
he  replied,  that  he  had  eome  there  to  teaeh  him  and  his 
people  the  way  of  eternal  salvnlion.  In  order  to  prove 
the  truth  of  his  mission,  he  desired  that  a  lire  should  be 
kindled,  and  oSiired  ta  pass  through  it  if  the  saltan 
would  command  one  of  his  Imunnia  to  pass  with  him. 
As  the  aultan  refused  this,  Francis  offered  ne^ct  to  throw 
himself  into  the  fire,  provided  the  saltan  and  all  his 
people  would  emhrare  Cliristianily.     The  saltan  de- 


clined this  likcwi 


;  but  looking  on  Franris  with  Iha 


Oriental  feeling  of  respeet  and  compassion 

otic  or  insane,  he  ecnt  him  back  guarded  to  DamiM 


BT.  FXANCIS  OF  ASSISl.  28s 

vheace  he  retaniod  to  Italy  without  having  the  escisfac- 
tion  of  either  gaining  a  eoal  to  Christ  or  shedding  liis 
blood  for  his  Boke.  As  some  amenda  for  this  disappoiotp- 
moDt  he  had  the  joj  of  hearing  that  live  of  his  miHBioQA- 
ries,  whom  he  bad  sent  to  Morocco,  had  there  eufibied 
a  crael  martyrdom. 

Ponr  jean  after  his  return,  he  obtained  the  conflr- 
mation  of  his  Order  from  Pope  Honorius ;  reaigned  Ms 
office  of  Superior,  and  retired  to  a  solitary  cave  on 
Monte  Aivema  (or  Larema).  There  he  was  visited 
by  ecstatic  trances,  by  visions  of  the  Virgin  and  Our 
Saviour,  and  It  is  said  that  he  nas  sometimes  raised 
from  the  grouad  in  a  raptnrs  of  devotion.  It  was  on 
this  occasion  that  he  was  favored  with  an  extraordinai; 
vision,  which  I  cannot  venture  to  pve  Otherwise  than 
in  the  words  of  his  biographer.  "  After  having  ftsted 
fi>r  forty  days  in  his  solitary  cell  on  Mount  Aivema, 
and  passed  the  time  in  all  the  fervor  of  prayer  and 
ecstatic  contemplation,  transported  almost  to  heaven  by 
tiie  ardor  of  his  desires,  —  then  he  beheld,  as  it  were, 
a  seraph  with  six  shining  wings,  beating  down  npoa 
him  from  above,  and  between  his  wings  was  llie  form 
of  a  man  cracilied.  By  thia  he  understood  to  ba 
figured  a  heavenly  and  immortal  intelligence,  subject 
to  death  and  humiliation.  And  it  was  manifested  to 
him  that  ho  was  to  bo  transformed  into  a  resemblance 
to  Christ,  not  by  the  martyrdom  of  the  flesh,  hut  by  the 
might  and  lire  of  Divine  love.  When  the  vision  had 
disappeared,  and  he  had  recovered  a  little  from  its  effect, 
it  was  seen  that  in  his  hands,  his  feet,  and  side  he  car- 
ried the  wounds  of  our  Saviour." 

Notwithstanding  the  interprelatioQ  whicb  might  easUj 
be  given  to  this  extraordinary  vision,  it  has  remained 
an  article  of  belief,  on  the  testimony  of  St,  Bonaventnra, 
that  these  wounds  were  not  only  neo^,  but  impressed  bj 
supematoral  power.  The  title  of  the  SeraphiO  has 
■tnce  been  given  to  St.  Francis  and  to  his  Order.  He 
wished  10  have  concealed  the  bvor  which  bad  been 
vouchsafed  to  him ;  hut  notwithstanding  his  precaa- 


I 


sg(  LEGENDS  OF  TBE  MOXASTIC  OSDESSf 

tiuns,  Th«  ImI  ewo  fMn  of  hia  life  became,  ia  yuious 
w»^.  n  period  of  pEqietnal  roBnifeaistioti.  Ue  goflerad 
DKUutJins  much  from  aiekiKea,  paio,  weaknew,  Biid 
hlindneE*  caused  by  continiial  lean.  He  hailed  iJie  ap- 
pnarh  of  death  with  rapture;  and  desired,  ea  a  la^t 
proof  of  hk  humility,  cliat  his  bodj  should  lie  mrried 
to  the  commDQ  place  of  execaljon,  a  rock  oulside  the 
vail*  of  Assiii,  then  called  the  CoUe  d'  In/eno,  and 
linried  with  the  bodies  of  the  maiefaetors.  Ue  dictated 
a  lait  tcetamenl  to  his  fmn,  in  which  he  added  M  the 
mle  aireadj  given,  that  tliej  should  work  with  their 
hands,  not  out  of  n  doaint  of  gain,  hut  for  the  sake  of 
Hfuod  example,  and  lo  avoid  idleness.  He  commanded 
that  those  who  did  not  know  how  to  work  should  leam 
■ome  trade.  But  Pope  Nicholas  111,  afterwards  nJiro- 
gated  tliis  hut  precept. 

When  be  lelt  the  approach  of  death,  he  ordered  him- 
self to  be  laid  upon  the  bare  earth,  and  endeaiored 
with  a  trembling  voice  to  recite  Ibe  141st  Psalm:  he 
had  readied  the  last  versB,  Bring  my  toul  out  of  pritm, 
when  bo  ceased  lo  breathe.  His  bod;  was  curried  to 
the  dtj  of  Assisi,  and  those  who  bore  itpsnsed  od  the 
wa;  befonl  the  Church  of  San  Damiano,  where  Clara 
and  her  nnns  saluted  it,  and,  weejiing,  kissed  his  hands 
aod  Ills  garments.  It  was  then  carried  lo  the  apot 
which  be  had  himself  chosen,  and  which  became  from 
that  time  consecrated  ground. 

Two  years  after  his  death,  in  llie  year  122S,  he  was 
canooiied  by  Gregory  IX.,  and  in  the  same  year  was 
laid  IliB  foundation  of  thai  magiiiflcent  chorch  which 
now  covers  hia  remains.  To  all  lliosD  who  contributed, 
either  by  the  work  of  their  hands  or  by  their  wealth, 
iudulgoncGs  were  granted.  Almost  all  the  princes  of 
Christenilom  sent  their  oSerings ;  and  the  Germans 
were  particularly  distinguished  by  their  liberality.  The 
city  of  Asaisi  granted  the  ijnsrriea  of  marble)  the  in- 
hi^itants  of  all  llie  neighboring  towns  «mt  their  artists 
to  decorate  the  temple  within  and  without.  The  body 
of  St.  FranciB  was  traDaporled  thither  iti  the  month  of 


8T,  FRANCIS  OF  A88ISI.  287 

"May,  1230;  and,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom  with 
regard  to  the  remains  of  the  Boman  Catholic  saints,  it 
has  ever  since  reposed  there  entire  and  undisturbed. 


Were  all  other  evidence  wanting,  we  might  form 
some  idea  of  the  passionate  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the 
character  of  St.  Francis,  and  the  popularity  and  influ- 
ence of  his  Order,  from  the  incalculable  number  of  the 
effigies  which  exist  of  him.  They  are  to  be  found  of 
every  kind,  from  the  grandest  creations  of  human  genius 
down  to  a  halfpenny  print,  and  are  only  rivalled  in  pro- 
fusion and  variety  by  those  of  the  Madonna  herself. 
In  this  case,  as  in  some  others,  I  have  found  it  neces- 
sary to  class  the  subjects,  noticing  only  the  leading 
points  in  the  artistic  treatment,  and  the  most  remark- 
able examples  under  each  head,  so  as  to  assist  the 
reader  to  discriminate  the  merit,  as  well  as  to  compre- 
hend the  significance,  of  the  representation. 

But  even  a  classification  is  here  difficult.  I  shall  be- 
gin with  those  subjects  which  must  be  considered  as 
strictly  devotional.     They  are  of  two  kinds  :  — 

I.  The  figures  which  represent  St.  Francis  standing, 
either  alone  or  in  a  Sacra  Conversazione;  or  enthroned, 
as  the  Padre  Serajico,  the  patron  saint  and  founder  of 
his  Seraphic  Order. 

n.  Those  which  represent  him  in  prayer  or  medita- 
tion as  the  devout  solitary,  the  pattern  of  ascetics  and 
penitents. 

The  earliest  known  representation  of  St.  Francis  has 
almost  the  value  and  authenticity  of  a  portrait.  It  was 
painted  by  Giunta  Pisano  a  few  years  after  the  death 
of  the  saint,  and  under  the  directions  of  those  who  had 
known  him  during  his  life  :  it  is  a  small  full-length,  in 
the  sacristy  of  his  church  at  Assisi ;  which,  when  I  was 
there,  hung  high  over  a  door  with  a  curtain  drawn  be- 
fore it,  rather,  as  it  seemed,  to  preserve  than  to  conceal 
it    He  is  standing,  —  a  long  meagre  figure,  —  long  out 


I 


LEGENDS  Of  rUK  MOyjSTlC  ORDtKS.' 


Antt.AemnliiimattaontltijiOTviihEnat  outspread, 
•nil  eje*  nitcd  to  bcATcn,  where  there  is  atnalljr  a 
vlaion  or  oiigcla,  at  thp  Virj^ii,  or  ilHi  Tniiiij'.  Some 
of  tttree  ucnic  or  eonstic  figorea  are  Hoaderfiil  Tor  es.- 
jirteaioo ;  uid  dooo  Iibtd  excelled  Cigoli  in  Ilalj,  and 
Zartiann  in  Spain,  in  the  repraenlalion  of  cliB  hollow- 
vyed,  wan.  mcajcro.  J^  anient  and  ferrent,  recliue. 

1  caoDol  rtmember  any  of  tbese  penitential  fi)i;nrGS 
liy  the  rery  ancient  painters  ;  but  in  the  late  Bologna 
and  Florentine  selioolc,  and  tnura  i^EpccitUlyia  Spanish 
■n.  tliej'  abound. 

A  second  dass  of  anbjecn,  which  are  not  strictly  de- 
votional, nor  yet  histoiical,  I  will  call  mi/ttiral.  Tlicy 
rapreuent  Bome  virion  or  incident  of  his  life,  not  as  a 
(act,  but  as  conveying  a  significance  more  than  meels 
the  eye,  and  proper  for  leligioiu  edifleation. 

1.  "  St.  Pninois  receiving  the  Stigmata"  it  the  most 
important  and  etriking  of  llieM  mystical  snhjects,  and 
the  one  most  rommonly  net  with.  It  k  the  uianding 
miracle  of  hig  Order,  always  introduced  into  a  Ecries  of 
pictures  from  his  life,  and  tonstantlj  met  with  as  a 
separate  suliject.  An  agreeable  one  it  is  not;  and, 
(Tilhout  presuming  to  impugn  tlic  faith  or  the  good 
taste  of  dioBe  who  regard  it  with  reverence  as  a  visiWe 
manifestation  of  the  divine  nature  in  Christ,  I  will  con- 
fess that,  in  this  lepreseatation,  {to  frcqacnt,  not  only 
ia  chorcbeB,  but  in  galleries  and  collections,  oa  to  have 
became  absolutely  commonplace,)  the  union  of  the 
grossly  physical  and  the  awMlj  spiritual  is,  to  oih, 
paintlil  and  rejiulsirB.  Of  course,  wlien  it  is  a  separate 
sntgect,  it  nu>y  be  token  in  a  completely  myslto  scuse, 
and  as  a  visioti  rather  than  an  event.  It  lias  been  varied 
in  a  thonsand  ways,  bnt  can  never  bo  mistaken.  In  a 
rocky  wilderness,  St.  Francis  kneels,  gcnemlly  with  np- 
lifted  looks  and  hands  outspread  in  devout  ecslusy. 
Above  him  hovers  the  mystic  seraph,  sometimes  br 
distant,  diminutive,  almost  lost  in  a  flood  of  glorj; 
quite  near,  largo,  life-like,  dreadfully  "pal- 


ST.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST.  ajt 

pablB  to  feeliDg  as  to  sighL"  Sometimes  tbe  raya  pass- 
ing ftom  the  bands  and  feet  are  like  tbreads  of  %ht: 
BometiiDes,  witb  betler  Caste,  they  are  seen  only  in  their 
eflbct.  When  a  ftiar  is  seen  ia  the  backgronnd,  it  i» 
his  friend  and  disciple  Leo,  who  is  recorded  to  liave 
been  present. 

The  earliest  example  is  the  freseo,  by  Giotto,  in  the 
npper  chnrch  at  Aseisi ;  it  is  treated  with  great  simpli- 
city, merely  as  an  incident.  Tiiere  is  a  similar  com- 
position in  the  Louvre, 

The  flaeet  example  I  have  ever  seen  is  by  Agostioo 
Caracci  (Vienna  Gal.),  —  a  picture  often  copied  and 
engraved,  but  no  copy  or  engraving  has  ever  tendered 
the  expression  of  the  head,  which,  as  I  well  remem- 
ber, made  me  start  back.  The  mystic  Ber^>h  is  just 
discerned  tar  above,  and  lalher  behind,  the  saint :  he 
seems  to  feel,  to  await  its  approach,  with  ecstatic  aspira- 

The  picture  by  Cigoli  (Fl.  Acad.)  is  also  a  master, 
piece  of  expression,  bat  conceived  m  a  diflerent  spirit. 
St.  Francis,  prostrate,  seenia  fainting  under  the  divine 
angoish.     It  is  related  that,  while  Cigoli  was  at  work 

and  hnnj^i,  begged  an  alms  ;  the  painter,  struck  with 
his  appearance,  desired  him  to  come  into  bis  study  and 
wait  while  he  sketched  him  ;  but  before  the  sketch  was 
completed  the  poor  wretch  swooned  from  exbaosiion: 
Cigoli  seized  the  moment,  and  transferred  to  his  canvas 
tbe  wasted  features  almost  fixed  iu  the  languor  of  death. 
I  am  not  sure  that  cho  result  is  quito  satisfactory  ;  for 
tbe  swoon  is  loo  puntiillj  Dainrai ;  it  onght  to  be  a 
tmnce  rather  than  a  swoon. 

S.  A  much  more  agreeable  subject  is  ^at  styled 
"the  Vision  of  St.  Francis."  Tlia  Virgin  moriier, 
descending  in  a  glory  of  light  and  attended  by  angels, 
places  in  his  arms  her  divine  Son.  Tbis  is  not  an  early 
subject,  but  once  introduced,  it  soon  became  a  &vorita 
one  both  with  the  punters  and  the  people.  Tbe  con- 
trast aflbrded  was  preciselyof  ^lat  kind  which  thelatar 


■  LEr:t:yDS  of  the  MoifASTico 

aniit*  dcltgliKNl  in;  rqnBll;  violenl  in  tbe  (onus  *jA 
tbs  HDCJincut.  Un  one  lide  knKls  tbe  Tiaionary,  with 
fiiauire*  mii  and  worn,  anil  fiitigiied  vilb  emoljon,  irich 
nnered  mimeDi  and  oil  tbs  outward  tugia  of  sordid 
miMr; :  on  the  oilier  we  buliotd  the  Virgin,  toTeUesc 
and  most  benign  of  fvinals  rormK.  bending  &gia  ber 
hearenl;  throne  :  and  ihc  infant  Saviour  smiling  ut  if 
ftnb  from  ParadUe.  Tho  subject  admits  of  great 
voriet}'  wilhoal  departing  from  die  leading  idea,  for 
Bomcdmea  St.  Francis  bolda  Ibe  divine  Cbild  in  his 
ami  with  an  air  of  reverential  tendemcSB,  wbilo  the 
Virgin  looks  down  npon  botb  with  maternal  benLgnily; 
and  aometimus  tbe  Child,  sealed  in  her  lap,  extends  his 
hand  lo  the  proaliate  sunt,  who  with  balf-cloaed  eyt», 
w  if  fainting  witb  cxccas  of  bltsc,  just  touches  that 
hand  with  ravcrenlial  lip«.  A  rhoir  of  angels  gcnerollj 
romplctea  tbe  mystic  groap  ;  and  tbe  loralitj  varies 
with  tlie  toale  of  [be  pninlcr,  being  sotnetiinea  a  land- 
scape, soLnctimcs  tbe  intorior  of  tbe  Porziunmla,  wbere^ 
SFCording  to  the  legend,  the  vision  occurred,  and  in 
memory  of  which  nlmoac  ever;  Fmacinau  church  in 
Spain  bos  its  Fonioncnla  or  I'hapel  dedicated  to  tbe 
Vision  of  St.  Francis.  In  this  enbjcrt  it  ia  necessary 
to  discinfrnish  St.  Frauds  Irom  other  saints  who  were 
favored  with  a  similar  vision  ;  and  mure  especially 
from  St.  Antony  of  Padua,  who  wears  the  some  hahil. 
In  g:eneral,  Su  Franpis  may  be  racognizud  by  the  sldg- 
mata ;  ha  is  rather  aged,  with  more  or  less  beard ; 
while  St.  Antony  is,  or  tnu/U  to  bo,  young,  beardless, 
of  B,  beautiliil  connlcnance,  with  a  lily  beside  him. 
Where  the  infant  Christ  stands  beside  Ibc  saint  or  on 
his  book  it  is  probably  St.  Antony.  Where  the  saint 
is  prostrate  and  olrooat  in  a  trance  before  the  Virgin 
and  Child,  it  is  probably  St.  Ftancis. 

It  is  a  mistake,  and  a  j^mss  departure  Irom  tbe  proper 
religioas  fbeling.  to  represent  St.  Fraacia  caressing  tlie 
fat^t  Saviour  as  a  father  would  caress  bis  child ; 
this  is  what  we  Rnd  in  many  of  the  later  pictnr 
which,  bnt  for  the  habit,  he  might  he  misttken  fob 


8T.  FRANCIS  OF  AS8/SL  293 

There  is  a  very  daring  and  original  version  of  this 
yision  of  St.  Francis  in  a  picture  by  Mnrillo.  Here  it 
is  no  longer  the  blessed  Infant  leaning  from  his  mother's 
bosom,  but  the  crncified  Savioar  who  bends  from  his 
cross  of  agony ;  and  while  St.  Francis,  with  outstretched 
arms,  and  trampling  a  globe  nnder  his  feet,  symbol  of 
the  world  and  its  vanities,  looks  np  with  the  most  pas- 
sionate expression  of  adoration  and  gratitude,  the  benign 
Yision  gently  inclines  towards  him,  and  lays  one  hand 
on  his  shoulder,  while  the  other  remains  attached  to  the 
cross ;  two  choral  angels  hover  above.  This  may  pos- 
sibly be  intended  to  represent  the  vision  in  San  Dami- 
ano.     (Museum,  Seville.) 

3.  "  St.  Francis  shivering  in  his  cell  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  a  demon  whimpers  to  him  suggestions  of  ease 
and  luxury  ;  he  repels  the  temptation  by  going  out  and 
rolling  himself  in  the  snow  on  a  heap  of  thorns ;  from 
the  thorns  sprinkled  with  his  blood  spring  roses  of 
Paradise,  which  he  offers  up  to  Christ  and  the  Ida- 
donna."  This  altogether  poetical  and  mystical  subject 
refers  to  the  famous  vision  in  the  Porzioncula.  There 
is  an  example  in  the  Louvre  (No.  532,  New  Catalogue), 
wherein  St.  Joseph  and  St.  Dominick  stand  by  as 
spectators.  There  is  another  by  Murillo  (Madrid  Gal.), 
in  which  a  flight  of  cherubim  shower  the  roses  on  the 
saint. 

4.  "  St.  Francis  languishing  in  sickness,  an  angel 
descends  from  heaven  to  solace  him  with  music " : 
styled  also  "  The  Ecstasy  of  St.  Francis."  This  is  a 
beautiful  subject  often  gracefully  treated,  but  never,  at 
least  as  far  as  I  know,  in  a  truly  poetical  and  religions 
spirit.  In  general  St.  Francis  is  in  his  cavern,  leaning 
back  with  eyes  half  closed,  or  sustained  by  an  angel, 
while  another  angel  sounds  the  viol  above.  Or  it  is  a 
choir  of  angels,  singing  in  a  glory  ;  but  this  is  a  less 
orthodox  conception.  A  singular  version  of  this  sub- 
ject represents  St.  Francis  almost  £eunting  with  ecstasy ; 
the  angelic  visitant,  hovering  above,  touches  his  viol 
and  "  makes  celestial  music  " :  meanwhile  St.  Bernanl* 


9  OF  Tilt:  MONASTIC  0 

iMlri]  ntai  with  hia  amplu  wljtto  robra  uid  hU  boAk, 
ravins  In  Iiave  paoseil  Id  tiia  amdies  lo  listen.  (Loavre, 
No.  1042.) 

S.  '■  St.  Pnmcia  opoiuGS  I'overtj,  Chwtity,  and  Obe- 
dienirc."  Giollo  was  the  first  vho  treated  this  subject ; 
whether  he  derived  the  original  idea,  from  a  eeiebraleil 
paj8a|>e  in  Dante'i  Faraitito,  or  Dante  Irom  him,  ban 
been  dispated :  bath  the  poet  and  the  painlor  allegorized 
the  old  Franciscaa  legend  as  given  by  St.  Bonavenlnni 
long  hefbre  their  Ijine ;  and  the  inventor  of  the  apologue 
woa  certainly  Francis  himnelf.  "  Joumejing  to  Siena, 
in  the  broad  plain  hetween  Campiglia  and  San  Quirico, 
St,  Francis  was  encountered  by  three  maidens,  in  poor 
rumoDt,  and  exactly  reBembling  each  other  in  age  and 
oppeanince,  who  sainted  him  vit)  the  words,  '  Wel- 
nime,  Lady  Poverty,'  and  soddenly  disappeared.  The 
brethren  not  irratiooBlly  concluded  IJial  thiB  apparition 
imported  some  mystery  pertaining  to  St.  Francis,  and 
that  by  the  three  poor  maidens  were  aignilied  Cliostity, 
Obedience,  and  Poverty,  the  beanty  and  sum  of  evaa- 
((elical  perfection :  all  of  which  shone  with  ecgun.!  and 
cooanmniate  InsCre  in  the  man  of  God,  though  he  made 
Mb  chief  glory  the  pdvilege  of  poverty." 

This  legend  is  very  literally  rendered  in  a  small 
pictare  in  the  posscBEion  of  Count  DemidoU'.     ~ 


St.  Fni 


nrgins 


i,  they  are  seen   floating  away,  distiugniahcd  hy 
their  actrfhmes. 

The  treatment  of  thta  subject  in  the  lower  charch  of 
Assiii  ia  altogether  dilibrent.  The  whole  allegory  is 
elahorately  worked  out,  and  it  has  been  supposed  with 
reason  that  Giotto  was  indebted  to  hia  friend  Dante  for 
many  partteulara  in  the  conception.  Tlie  vault  of  the 
choir  ia  divided  into  four  compartmeDtB.  In  the  first 
WB  hare  the  allegory  of  ■'  the  Forlreas  of  Chastity,-"  to 
which  St,  Fi^oncis  appears  ascending;  while  ibrough  a 
window  appears  Chaatit;  herself,  as  a  young  mai~ 
praying;  two  angela  floating  in  the  air  present  K 
Dm  palm  and  the  volume  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 


ST.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST.  295 

The  second  compartment  represents  Obedience,  who 
is  figured  as  an  angel,  robed  in  black,  placing  the  finger 
of  the  left  hand  on  his  month,  while  with  the  right  he 
passes  the  yoke  over  the  head  of  a  Franciscan  friar 
kneeling  at  his  feet.  On  one  hand  is  Prudence,  on 
the  left  Humilitj.  Above  this  group,  and  attended  by 
kneeling  angels,  stands  St.  Francis  in  his  habit:  two 
hands  appear  as  coming  out  of  heaven,  holding  ap- 
parently liie  knotted  cord  of  the  Franciscans. 

The  third  compartment,  "  the  Espousals  of  St.  Fran- 
cis with  the  Lady  Poverty,"  was  certainly  suggested  by 
a  passage  in  Dante's  Panuliso,  or  suggested  that  pas- 
sage.    The  scene  is  a  rocky  wilderness :  Poverty,  — 

"The  Bame  to  whom  none  openeth  pleasure's  gate 
More  than  to  death/'  — 

Stands  in  the  midst,  emaciated,  barefoot,  in  a  tattered 
robe,  her  feet  among  thorns,  which  a  youth  is  thrusting 
against  her  with  a  staff,  and  a  dog  barks  at  her ;  she  is 
attended  by  Hope  and  Charity  as  bridesmaids,  herself 
being  thus  substituted  for  Faith.  St.  Francis  places 
the  ring  upon  her  finger,  while  our  Saviour,  standing 
between  them,  at  once  gives  away  the  bride  and  bestows 
the  nuptial  benediction.  For  the  corresponding  passage 
in  Dante  I  may  refer  to  the  Divina  Commedia.  (Para- 
diso,  c.  xi.)  Kugler  says,  "A  tradition  ascribes  these 
paintings  collectively  to  Dante,  who  was  an  intimate 
friend  of  the  artist,  and  even  recalls  him  from  the  other 
world  to  reveal  them  in  a  dream  to  the  painter."  But 
as  Dante  was  apparently  alive,  and  in  communication 
with  Giotto,  at  the  time  these  frescos  were  painted,  he 
needed  not  to  come  "  from  the  other  world  "  to  reveal 
his  suggestions. 

The  fourth  compartment  of  the  vault  remains  to  be 
described.  It  exhibits  the  glorification  or  apotheosis 
of  the  saint.  He  is  seated  on  a  throne,  wearing  the 
rich  embroidered  robe  of  a  deacon  (from  his  great  hu- 
mility he  liad  refrised  any  higher  ecclesiastical  honor) : 
he  holds  in  one  hand  the  crossi  in  the  other  the  written 


i;6  LEGENDS  OF  TBE  JtO.VJSrW  ORDERS. 

ra]«  of  hii  Order.  On  Mrh  Ait  kk  cboire  o!  angels, 
who  h^n  hi*  prai*e;  olhera  in  frant,  lieBring  Llii>e  in 
Ibcdr  banda,  Iibto  b.  trul/  angeliF  bd4  eihoreol  grace. 

I  tluLll  DOW  pnKBed  in  the  historical  reprewntations 
takan  fivm  (he  life  and  mirnclei  of  St.  Francta. 

The  bislorr  of  this  Bpint.  in  a  series  of  EuhjerU,  may 
be  Ibund  veiy  commonly  in  the  cburthes  and  convenu 
beJonging  to  bi«  Order.* 

Thio  «rli(wt  (abonl  1308),  the  most  complete,  and 
,tlw  moat  lemarkablo,  is  that  which  aiill  exiais,  bat  in  a 
'moat  mined  condition,  id  the  upper  cbnrcb  of  Asaiu,  in 
twenty *ight  compartniontB. 

The  wnca  by  Gliirlandajo,  in  the  Trinity  at  Florence, 
which  is  extrcmcl;  fine  and  dratoalir,  wan  painted  for 
Francesco  Sassetti  (about  1445),  io  the  chapel  of  bis 

A  third  aerial  I  mnst  mention,  —  tlie  exqniBilG  sculp- 
ture round  the  pulpii  in  the  church  of  Santa  Croce, 
OKecnled  by  Benedetto  da  Maiatio  (about  1450)  in  the 
aljle  of  Ghibarti'g  Gates  of  the  Baptistry,  at  Florence; 
and,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  when  I  hod  the  opportnoity 
of  comparing  them  on  tbe  epot,  hardly  lees  beautitiil, 
oxpresaive.  and  elaborate.  These  are  the  most  intertst- 
ing  examples  I  have  seeo. 

We  will  now  pass  in  review  the  whole  of  the  subjects 
conlaJned  in  the  upper  church  of  Assisi,  compriung  alt 
the  incidents  I  have  found  repreGcnied  as  a  series  iu 
other  places,  and  maoy  wbicb  are  not  to  be  luet  with 
elsewhere,  or  which  exist  only  as  separate  subjects : 
assembled  here,  (hey  form  the  pictured  chronicle  of  hia 
liffe.  Tbe  brotherhood  of  St.  Francis,  though  vowed  to 
povctty,  had  been  enormonsly  enriobcd  by  the  oBeringa 
of  the  charitable  and  devout.  Withiu  fifty  joara  after 
the  death  of  their  patriarch,  one  of  the  grandest  churches 
in  Italy  hod  risen  over  his  remains,  and  their  hospitals 
•  Anordlne  tg  Vsuui,  Ctmabiu,  irheo  milled  to  As^  almit 
!b  the  life  of  8t,  FrBiHti.    TUa 


ST.  FRANCIS  OF  AS8I8I.  197 

and  n^MJone  had  «Jttei)ded  10  ey«r;  part  of  the  then 
known  world.  In  the  next  centuty,  these  munificent 
mendicanu  eeemed  lo  have  thought  that  thej  could  not 
better  employ  their  aurplus  wealth  than  by  doing  honor 
to  that  "  Glorioso  pooerd  di  Dio  "  whose  name  they  bore. 
As  on  a  former  occasion  they  had  anmmoned  Cimabuo, 
they  now  called  to  tbeii  aid  Giotlo,  the  greatest  punter 
of  the  time.  Whether  Giotlo  painted  the  whole  seriea 
of  subjecla  roand  the  nave  of  iho  upper  church  has  bceu 
doabted,  and  with  reaaoo.  That  he  painted  a  great 
part  of  them  seems  to  be  pretty  well  ascertained :  but 
I  will  not  now  go  into  this  question,  which  is  one  of 
pore  antiquarian  criticisra.  Onr  atlontion  at  present 
must  he  fixed  npon  the  subjects  themselves,  as  illnstrut- 
ing  the  actions  and  miracles  of  the  great  patriarch.  A 
reference  to  the  previous  sketch  of  his  lite  will  sutii- 
cienlly  interpret  most  of  these,  and  to  the  others  I  will 
add  some  notes  of  explanation. 

I  have  marked  with  an  asterisk  those  which  have 
been  engraved  in  Ottley's  "Specimens  of  the  early 
Florentine  School." 

1.  When  St.  Francis  was  still  in  his  btfaer'a  honse, 
and  in  bondage  10  the  world,  a  half-VFitted  simplelon, 
meeting  him  in  the  market-place  of  Assist,  took  off  his 
own  garment,  and  spread  it  on  the  ground  for  him  to 
walk  over,  prophesying  that  be  was  worthy  of  all  honor, 
as  one  destined  to  greatness,  and  10  the  veneiatioQ  of 
the  bithfiil  dirongboui  the  universe.' 

2.  St.  Francis  ^ves  his  cloak  to  the  poor  officer. 
The  scene  is  represented  in  the  valley  which  lies  below 


igl  LEGEXDS  OF  TBK  MOSASTIC  OSDEi 

AmUi,  >nd  St.  Francis  is  on  borMback.    (In  tny 
locality  thia  might  be  mistalcm  for  St.  Hartin.) 

S.  Thp  dreiiiii  of  Si.  Kmncis,  ulrewly  rrlaced. 
our  Saviour  slanib  bniilc  ihu  hcd.  poiiiting  k>  the 
or  itnnar  prepared  for  the  WBirion  o(  Christ. 

4.  St.  Fraocii,  hnMlidg  belbre  tfae  craeifix  ii 
chnrcb  of  Sc  Damiano,  leceive*  die  muncoloiis  o 


I 


5,  8l  FranriB  nnd  his  father,  Pietro  Bemardone,  re- 
nounro  each  □iher  in  tlw  I'iazza  of  Asaiai.  Frauds 
ibmwa  otf  lita  yarmenta,  and  rcceirea  Irom  tho  bisliop 
a  ctoak  whorewith  to  cover  him, 

6.  The  Tjstou  of  Pope  Innoceot  HI.     "  This  is  a 
very  beauiifal  freico :  the  head  of  St.  Francis  looking 
up  to  heaven,  as  if  for  aid,  while  ho  Bngtaine  the  fulling 
Church,  is  exlremel;  expressive  ;  and  so  is  that  of 
of  tlie  etteadaots  at  tlio  pope's  bedside,  wtio  has  droj 
his  head  on  his  arm,  as  overcome  with  sleep." 

T.  Pope  Honohus  111.  conttnns  the  rule  of  the 
ciscaa  Order. 

B.  St.  Francis  in  the  chariot  of  fire, 
night  ho  had  gone  apiirt  from  his  hrcthran 
at  midnight  when  some  were  awaJie  and  otlien  sleep- 
ing, a  Herj  chariot  was  seen  to  enter  by  the  door  of  the 
lionse,  and  drive  thrice  round  the  court.  A  globe, 
bright  and  dazzling  as  the  sun  at  noonday,  rested  upon 
it,  which  they  knew  to  be  the  spirit  of  St.  Francis,  pres- 
eut  with  tliem,  but  parted  from  his  body. 

This  was  one  of  the  SBbjecIs  painted  by  Murillo  for 
the  Capochins  at  Seville,  and  seems  to  have  much  per- 
plexed commentators. 

9.  The  seats  prepared  in  heaven  for  St.  Prancia  aod 
his  Order.  A  large  throne,  and  two  small  ones  on  each 
Bidn  of  it,  appear  above.  A  monk  kneels  uu  ouu  aide; 
an  angel,  floating  in  the  air,  paints  to  St.  Francis  pros- 
trate before  an  altnr. 

10.  St.  Francis  exoroiaing  Arenzo.      The  city  at 
Aiezzo  was  then  distracted  by  fncligua ;  aiid  the 
un  ^proaching,  beheld  a  company  of  deoioos  it 


if  one I 


ST.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST,  299 

in  the  air  above  the  walls,  these  being  the  evil  spirits 
who  stirred  np  men's  minds  to  strife.  Therenpon  he 
sent  his  companion  Silvester  to  command  them  in  his 
name  to  depart.  Silvester  obeyed,  crying  with  a  loud 
voice,  "  In  the  name  of  the  omnipotent  God,  and  by 
command  of  his  servant  Francis,  go  oat  hence,  every 
one  of  yon ! "  And  immediately  the  demons  dispersed, 
and  the  city  retamed  to  peace  and  propriety.  In  the 
fresco,  St.  Francis  kneels  in  prayer,  while  Silvester 
stands  before  the  city  in  a  noble  attitude  of  command. 

11.  St.  Francis  before  the  Soldan :  this  legend  has 
been  already  related.  Of  this  subject,  the  fresco  by 
Ghirlandajo  is  particularly  fine ;  and  the  bas-relief  by 
Benedetto  da  Maiano,  most  beautiful. 

12.  St.  Francis  lifted  from  the  earth  in  an  ecstasy  of 
devotion. 

13.  St.  Francis  exhibits  to  his  congregation  a  tableau 
or  theatrical  representation  of  the  nativity  of  our  Sav- 
iour. 

This  is  curious,  as  being  the  earliest  instance  of  those 
exhibitions  still  so  common  in  Italy  about  Christmas 
time,  and  for  which  the  Franciscan  communities  are 
still  pre-eminent. 

14.  St.  Francis  and  his  companions,  in  journeying 
over  a  desert  mountain  in  the  heat  of  summer,  are  ex- 
hausted by  fatigue  and  thirst.  The  saint,  through  his 
prayers,  causes  the  living  stream  to  flow  from  the  rock. 

This  fresco  is  remarkable  in  the  history  of  art  as 
containing  the  earliest  successfril  attempt  to  express  an 
action  taken  from  common  life.  It  is  that  of  the  thirsty 
man,  bending  over  the  fountain  to  drink ;  known  as 
VAssetato  (the  thirsty  man),  and  deservedly  praised  by 
Yasari  and  by  Lanzi.     It  is  engraved  in  D'Agincourt. 

15.  St.  Francis  preaching  to  the  birds.  "  Drawing 
nigh  to  Bevagno,  he  came  to  a  certain  place  where 
birds  of  different  kinds  were  gathered  together ;  whom 
seeing,  the  man  of  God  ran  hastily  to  the  spot,  and, 
saluting  them  as  if  they  had  been  his  fellows  in  reason 
(while  they  all  turned  and  bent  their  heads  in  attentive 


JOO 


LEQESDS  OF  TUE  MONASTIC  ORDESS> 


axptrUtion),  he  admonubcd  them,  t»yii>g,  'Brothn 
biri;  in^all;  nro  jc  bounil  to  pmiie  ilie  Creator,  wlio 
dothcth  you  witli  fnulii-ra,  uiil  )!:iveih  jon  wings  lo  fl; 
wilh,  nnd  ■  purtir  lUr  lo  breathe,  and  who  otreth  for 
you,  wIki  have  so  little  can  fbr  yoDrtelves.'  Whilst 
he  tliiu  spake,  the  little  birds,  marvelloiuly  commoTcd, 
bcfEBd  to  «|)r<-Bd  their  wings,  ctisli^h  fbnh  tlHtir  necks, 
and  uprn  Ihmr  limka,  atteDtivelr  ptang  upon  him  ; 
ami  be,  glowing  in  Uid  epiril,  pBisod  ibnmgh  the  tnidst 
of  them,  and  even  toarhed  them  with  his  robe ;  yet  not 
uuo  stirred  irom  tas  place  luiti]  the  man  of  God  gave 
lliein  leaie ;  when,  with  his  hlc^ni;,  and  nC  the  sign 
of  the  cTow,  (he;  all  flew  anajr.  These  iliin^  ww  liis 
Gompanions,  who  wailed  for  him  on  the  road ;  lo  whom 
TetBraing,  tlie  simple  and  pnrc-mi tided  man  began 
greatly  to  blame  liinixelf  for  having  never  hithetio 
prMcLed  to  tiie  birds." 

And  here  we  must  paiw  for  a  moment.  The  iMt 
Sabje<i;  will  probablj  cKcite  a  Bmile,  bat  tliat  smile 
ought  to  be  a  Gerioua  antile,  — not  a  ineer ;  and  I  can- 
not pass  it  over  wiihoal  remark. 

Among  the  lefj^uds  of  St.  Frande,  some  of  the  most 
interesting  are  those  which  place  him  in  relation  with 
the  lower  animals.  Ha  looked  upon  all  brangs  aa  ex- 
isting by,  and  iLroagh,  God  {  and  aa  having  a  portion 
of  that  divine  principle  by  which  he  himself  c-dsted. 
}le  was  aecustomed  lo  rail  all  living  things  his  brothers 
nnd  sislen.  In  the  entliusinsm  of  his  charity  ho  inler- 
prulcd  literallj  the  text,  '•  Go  ye  into  all  die  worid,  and 
pcooch  the  Gospel  to  every  mvitars."  He  appears  to 
have  thought  that  all  sentient  Ivings  had  a  share  in  the 
divine  mission  of  Christ ;  auti  since  a  part  of  thui  divine 
mission  was  [□  enlarge  the  apliere  of  our  human  sym- 
puthies,  till  they  embrace  ali  our  fellnw-creamreB,  it 
should  seem  that  tlie  more  llie  tender  s[>iril  of  Chriff- 
tianiiy  is  nndersiood  and  (liffused,  ilie  more  will  the 
lower  creation  be  elevated  thi'Dii;;h  our  own  more  ele- 
vated inielligenee  and  refined  tjmpHthies.     Dr.  Arnold 


8T.  FRANCIS  OF  A8SISL  301 

says,  in  a  striking  passage  of  one  of  bis  letters,  that 
« ttie  destinies  of  the  brute  creation  appeared  to  him  a 
mystery  which  he  conld  not  approach  without  awe." 
St.  Francis,  in  his  gentle  and  tender  enthusiasm,  solved 
that  mystery  —  at  least  to  himself — by  admitting  ani- 
mals within  the  pale  of  Christian  sympathy.  I  shall 
give  a  few  of  these  legends  here,  as  the  best  commen- 
tary on  the  subjects  above  described.  It  is  recorded 
that  when  he  walked  in  the  fields  the  sheep  and  the 
lambs  thronged  around  him,  hares  and  rabbits  nestled 
in  his  bosom ;  but  of  all  living  creatures  he  seems  to 
have  loved  especially  birds  of  every  kind,  as  being  the 
most  unearthly  in  their  nature :  and  among  birds  he 
loved  best  the  dove.  "  One  day  he  met,  in  his  road, 
a  young  man  on  his  way  to  Siena  to  sell  some  doves, 
which  he  had  caught  in  a  snare ;  and  Francis  said  to 
him,  '  O  good  young  man !  these  are  the  birds  to 
whom  the  Scripture  compares  those  who  are  pure  and 
fiuthful  before  Grod :  do  not  kill  them,  I  beseech  thee, 
but  give  them  rather  to  me';  and  when  they  were 
given  to  him,  he  put  them  in  his  bosom  and  carried 
them  to  his  convent  at  Ravacciano,  where  he  made  for 
them  nests,  and  fed  them  every  day,  until  they  became 
so  tame  as  to  eat  from  his  hand :  and  the  young  man 
had  also  his  recompense ;  for  he  became  a  fiiar,  and 
lived  a  holy  life  from  that  day  forth."  —  St.  Francis  had 
also  a  great  tenderness  for  hurks,  and  often  pointed  out 
to  his  disciples  the  lark  mounting  to  *^  heaven's  gate," 
and  singing  praises  to  the  Creator,  as  a  proper  emblem 
of  Christian  aspiration.  "  A  lark  brought  hor  brood 
of  nestlings  to  his  cell,  to  be  fed  from  his  hand :  he 
saw  that  the  strongest  of  these  nestlings  tyrannized  over 
the  others,  pecking  at  them  and  taking  more  than  his 
due  share  of  the  food  ;  whereupon  the  good  saint  re- 
buked the  creature,  saying,  <  Thou  unjust  and  insati- 
able !  thou  shalt  die  miserably,  and  the  greediest  ani- 
mals shall  refuse  to  eat  thy  flesh.'  '  And  so  it  happened, 
for  the  creature  drowned  itself  through  its  impetuosity 
in  drinking,  and  when  it  was  thrown  to .  the  cats  tbBjy 


5« 


tA-KAJtfOS  Of  THE  JHOXASTIC  ORDEOBW 


would  not  lonch  iL"  —  ■•  On  his  renirn  ftora  Syri»,  in 
paiwinE  llinjiitih  the  Venetian  Lagoon,  rut  nutnberR  of 
hints  were  ainKing,  and  lie  laid  (o  his  companion,  •  Oor 
^icra,  the  btnli,  an  prnisiDg  Ibeir  Ciealor ;  tpt  09  sing 
witli  them,'  —  and  he  began  the  lacred  service.  But 
■he  warblinif  of  ibe  birdj  inmrupted  tbcm,  iliciefore 
St.  Fnuicis  said  to  thini,  ■  Bo  silent  till  we  bIeo  ham 
pnused  God,'  imd  tba;  ceased  their  bodj-,  and  did  not 
fwanie  it  till  he  bad  given  them  permieiiinn."  —  "On 
another  occasion,  preaching  at  Alviano,  ho  could  not 
make  himself  beu^  for  the  chirping  of  the  swallows, 
which  were  at  that  time  building  their  neals :  pansing, 
tberofbre,  in  his  seimon,  he  said,  ■  H;  siiters,  j'ou  hare 
talked  enough :  it  is  time  that  I  should  have  my  tam. 
Be  silent,  and  listen  to  the  word  of  God  ! '  and  the/ 
were  silent  immediatel;."  —  "  On  anottier  occasion,  as 
ho  was  sitting  with  his  disciple  I«o,  he  felt  himseir 
penetrated  with  joy  and  consolation  by  tlie  son^  of  the 
nijthtingale,  and  be  desired  bis  friend  Leo  to  raise  his 
Tc»ce  and  sing  the  praises  of  God  in  company  with  the 
bird.  But  Leo  excnscd  himself  by  reason  of  his  bad 
roic« ;  upon  which  Francis  liimtelf  began  to  sin^,  and 
when  he  stopped,  the  nightingale  took  np  the  strain, 
and  thus  they  sang  idtemHlely,  ontil  the  night  was  far 
advaQced,  and  Frands  was  obliged  to  stop,  for  bis  toIcb 
&iled.  Then  he  confessed  that  the  little  bird  bed  Tiin- 
qulshed  him  ;  be  called  it  to  bim,  thanked  it  for  its 
song,  and  gave  it  the  remainder  of  his  bread  ;  and  hav- 
ing bestowed  his  blessing  upon  it,  the  creatuis  flew 

Here  we  bave  a  leTslou  of  the  antique  legend  of  the 
Thessatian  Shepherd  and  the  Nightingale :  bat  tbere 
the  nightingale  is  vanquished  and  dies  ;  liere  the  lesson 
of  bnmiUl;  is  given  to  the  man.  Mark  the  distinction 
between  the  classic  and  the  Christian  sendmenC  I 

"A  grasshopper  was  wont  Co  sit  and  sing  on  a  fig- 
tree  near  the  eelJ  of  the  man  of  God,  and  oftwilJineB  by 
bar  singing  she  excited  him  also  to  sing  the  praii 
the  Creator ;  and  one  day  he  called  her 


DitentjmeB  by  i 

he  praiBBin|^H^J 
to  him,  4^^^^H 


Sr.  FRANCIS  OF  A83ISI. 


i°Z 


■be  flew  Dpon  his  hanii,  and  Francis  said  to  her,  '  Slog, 
mj  sister,  and  praise  the  Lord  thj  Creator.'  So  she 
began  her  song  immodialfilj,  nor  ceased  till  at  the 
father's  coraiaand  she  Sew  back  to  her  owo  place  ;  and 
she  remained  eight  dajs  there,  eomiog  and  ein^ng  at 
his  behest.  At  lenj^h  the  man'  of  God  said  to  his 
disciples,  ■  Let  as  dismiss  our  sister  t  enoagh,  that  she 
has  cheered  us  with  her  song,  and  exdt^  ua  to  Cha 
pr«SO  of  God  these  eight  days.'  So,  being  permitted, 
■he  immediately  flew  away,  and  was  seen  no  more." 

When  he  foand  worms  or  insects  in  his  road,  he  was 
careful  not  (o  tread  upon  them  ;  "  he  stepped  afide  and 
bid  the  reptile  live."  He  would  even  remove  them 
from  the  pathway,  lest  they  ahoald  be  crushed  by  others. 

One  day,  in  passing  through  a  meadow,  he  sainted 
the  flocks  which  wera  grazing  there,  and  he  pereeired  a 
poor  little  lamb  which  was  feeding  all  alone  in  the 
midst  of  a  flock  of  goats ;  be  was  moved  with  pity,  and 
Ite  said,  "Thus  did  oar  mild  Saviour  stand  alone  in. 
the  midst  of  the  Jews  and  tlie  Pharisees."  Be  would 
have  bought  this  sheep,  but  be  had  uothiag  in  the  world 
bat  his  tunic ;  however,  a  charitable  man  passing  by, 
and  seeing  his  grief,  bought  the  lamb  and  gave  it  to 
him.  When  he  was  at  Rome,  in  1222,  he  had  with 
him  a  pet  lamb,  which  accompanied  him  everywhere  : 
and  in  pictures  of  St.  Francis  a  lamb  is  frequently 
iDtrodaced.  which  may  either  signify  his  me«kneaa 
and  purity  of  mind,  or  it  may  represent  this  very 
lamb,  "  which  lay  in  his  bosom,  and  was  to  bim  as  a 
daughter." 

We  now  return  to  Giotto's  frescos  : — 

•  16.  The  death  of  the  young  count  of  Cclano.  St. 
rrancis  being  invited  to  dine  with  a  devout  and  char- 
itable noble,  before  sitting  down  to  table,  privately 
warned  him  Chat  his  end  drew  near,  and  exhorted  him 
(o  confess  his  sins,  for  that  God  had  given  him  this  op- 
poctuniiy  of  making  his  peace  in  recompense  of  his 
hospitality  towards  the  poor  of  Christ.  The  yonng 
count  obeyed,  confessed  himself,  set  his  house  in  Mder, 


JO*  LEGESDa  or  TBB  MONASTIC  ORDERS.  ' 


I 


it  wu  over,  «ank  down  and  exiiired  on  the  spot. 

IT.  81,  FrancU  prmthinR  Iwforo  tbe  popo  and  car- 
dinals, all  seated  in  appropriate  altiludaB,  under  a  mag- 
Diflrenl  Gothii:  Loy;gia. 

The  fteKO  and  similar  inhjecu  ara  M  be  referred.  I 
Mic*e,  to  the  rollowing  pannge  in  hi*  lifb.  Fnind* 
lirailated  long  between  tbe  niuteiuplatire  and  the 
religions  life.  He  and  hia  disciptea  were  aasa 
unlearned.  He  winhed  lo  perBoado  otbera  to 
like  himutir,  the  way  or  nlvation ;  but  he  kn 
how  10  set  about  iL  He  consalted  hie  brelliren 
lie  ehoald  do.  '•  '  God,'  sud  he,  ■  bas  given  me  the 
gift  of  prajcrSi  bnt  not  (be  gift  of  words ;  jet  as  the 
Son  of  Man,  when  ho  was  upon  eanh,  001  001/  re- 
deemed men  by  bis  blood,  bot  in«tni<.'1ed  tbem  by  bis 
words,  ongbc  we  itot  To  foUow  his  divine  example)' 
And  in  his  great  buniiUtj,  he  requested  not  only  of  bis 
brethrea,  hot  olso  of  CUra  and  her  sisterhood,  that  tbsj 
would  pray  fur  him  that  a  sicn  might  be  given  what  Iw, 
Rliould  do.  The  anEwer  was  to  all  the  same,- 
preoeh  the  Gospel  to  every  creature.'  And,  when 
prcac^bed  Eucb  eloquence  was  given  lo  him  from 
that  none  could  re^iat  hia  words,  atid  the  most  learaedi 
olo^ans  lemained  silent  and  astoniEhed  in 

A  parti(^ullLr  sermon,  wliith  be  preached  at 
before  HonorinB  UL  may  also  bo  alluded  to. 

81.  Francis,  in  the  rule  given  to  liis  brother! 
preacribud   short   sermons.  — "  because   those   of 
Saviour  were   short " ;    and  as  we   arc 
heard  above,  so  neither  arc  we  the  mo 
below,  for  "our  much  speaking." 

■  18.  When  St.  Antony  of  Padua  waa  preaching  at 
a  general  chapter  of  (be  Order,  held  at  Arlea  in  1224, 
St.  Fraucia  appeared  in  the  midst  uf  them,  hia  arma 
extended  in  the  form  of  a  eroiis, 

.  Fiancis  receiving  the  stigmato,  as  already 


described. 


SO.  The  death  of  St.  Francis  in  the  midst  of'4| 
tVtars ;  aJigcls  bear  his  sonl  into  bee  ^t>. 


ST.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSIBI.  305 

31.  The  djii^  fiiai.  Ljiog  at  that  time  on  bis 
death-bed,  he  hebeld  tfaa  spirit  of  St.  Fraada  rising 
into  heaven,  and,  Bpiiuging  forward,  he  cried  "  Tany, 
fiither!  I  cotofl  with  thee,"  and  fell  back  dead. 

S2.  St.  Frauds  being  lud  upon  his  bier,  the  people 
of  AMisi  were  adnutted  to  see  and  falsa  the  atigmaia. 
One  Jerome,  sceptical  like  St.  Tbomss,  would  see  and 
touch  before  he  believed :  he  ie  beie  represented  kneel' 
ing  and  tonching  the  side,  "  the  dead  brow  frowning 
with  aogaish." 

*  23.  The  lament  at  San  Damiano.  The  bodj  of 
8l  Francis  being  carried  to  Assisi,  the  bearers  halt 
before  the  porch  of  the  church,  and  are  received  by  St. 
Chun  and  ber  nnna  :  St  Clara  leans  over,  embradng 
the  bodf ;  anodier  nun  kisses  bis  hand. 

iA.  This  compartment  is  in  a  mined  state. 

•25.  The  vision  of  Pope  Gregory  IX.  This  pope, 
before  he  consented  to  canonize  St.  Frands,  had  some 
doubts  of  the  celestial  inSicdon  of  the  (dgmaia.  St. 
Francis  appeared  to  bim  in  a  vision,  reproved  his  un- 
belief, opened  his  robe,  and,  exposing  the  woond  in  hia 
side,  filled  a  vial  vith  the  blood  which  flowed  &om  it, 
and  gave  it  to  tlie  pope,  who,  on  waking  found  it  in 

*  26.  A  certain  man  who  had  been  mortall}'  wounded 

bj  robbers,  and  given  over  \)j  bia  physician,  invoked 
St,  Frsjicis,  who  appears,  attended  by  two  angels,  and 
heals  him. 

*  27.  A  certain  woman  of  Monte  Marino,  uear  Beue- 
vento,  having  died  nnshriven,  her  spirit  was  permitted, 
through  the  iutercession  of  St.  Francis,  to  lelnrn  and 
rcanimatu  the  body  while  she  confessed  and  received 
absolution.  The  woman  sits  up  in  bed ;  an  angel 
boveiB  above,  awaiting  the  final  release  of  the  BOol, 
while  a  horrible  little  demon  diaappointed,  flies  awaj. 

2B,  St.  Francis  the  vindicator  of  innocence.  Acer- 
lain  bishop  bad  been  falsely  accnsed  of  beceay.  Tha 
Insbop's  cathedral  is  seen  on  tbe  left,  the  prison  to.  tha 
light;  intbemidst  he  i«  kneeling,  ft  priest  behind  iMddi 


I 


jo6  LEGENDS  Of  THt:  JJOXASTIC  ORDERS.* 

tha  crmier  of  wliich  ho  h«s  been  dcprivod.  The  jailer 
nepi  fbrwnrd  with  nianacle*.  eaA  St.  Frauda  in  liis 
habit  is  raea  QoBting  tUiore  in  tin  ihj,  and  interceding 
ft>r  hii  voiary. 

The  eeries  bj  Ghirland^o  in  the  SuKtti  dupel 
{florance,  S.  Trinita),  mntiati  of  rix  snbjecu  onlj :  — 

I.  A  &moiu  FloreDlinc  legODd  not  xo  be  found  at 
Auisi.  A  chilli  of  ihe  8)^ni  hmiiy  fell  from  Ihe  win- 
■low  of  the  Palaxio  S|jini,  and  ww  killed  on  the  spot. 
Wliilo  thej  are  cariTiiig  the  i:hild  to  the  grave,  lim 
porenta  invoke  St.  Francis,  who  appesis  visibly, 

a.  St.  Franriii  renonnces  the  inheritanfc  of  his  fa 

3.  He  Biaads  before  Pope  Hoooriog  III.,  to  wl 
he  presents  the  roses  which  sprang  from  hii  hlood. 

A.  He  rcoeives  the  Migmata. 

S.  SL  Francis  ijefore  the  Soldan.  He  olfera  to  walk 
through  tbe  Gre  to  iirore  the  truth  of  his  mission. 

S.  Called  "  the  death  of  Si.  Francis."  hut  inoia 
proper];  "the  incrcdutit;  of  Jerome."  The  siu'nt  Ilea 
exwnded  on  a  bier,  surrounded  b;  his  brothren;  a 
iHshop,  with  spectacles  on  hie  nose,  is  reciting  tlie 
service  (or  the  dead;  a  friar,  in  front  (moBt  admirably 
piuntcd),  kisses  the  hand  of  the  saint ;  conipli'Dous  in 
the  group  behind,  Jerome  sluopa  over,  and  jiIbfcs  bis 
hand  on  the  wounded  side.  In  rompartnients  to  tlie 
right  and  left  kneel  the  votaries,  Francesco  SasEelli,  and 
bis  wife  Madonna  Mera.  This,  even  in  iu  ruined  cundi- 
tioD,  is  one  of  the  fincut  and  most  solemnly  dramntie 
pictures  in  Ibc  world. 

■'  Earij- 


m 


The  series  of  bns-relicfs  bj  Benedetto  da  Maiano  Q 
Santa  Croce)  consists  of  five  subjects :  — 

1.  St.  Francis  receives  the  stigmata.     !.  Here 
&om  Uonorius  CI.  the  confirmation  of  his  Order.  \ 


3T.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSISl. 


J07 


He  appears  before  Iho  Soldan.  i.  The  incrGdnlitj  of 
Jerome.  5.  The  marlyrdom  of  tbe  five  Franciscan 
miaaioEarica,  as  already  relaled. 

This  eeriee  was  ecgraved  by  the  joanger  Laaioio, 
and  publislmd  in  1823. 

In  all  these  inataaces  the  subjects  form  what  may  be 
properly  termed  an  historical  Heries.  There  is,  however, 
an  example  of  a  pictured  life  of  St.  Frands  which  moBt 
be  taken  altogether  in  a  mystical  sense.  I  have  spoken 
of  the  veneration  entertained  for  hiiD  by  hia  follower. 
They  very  early  compared  his  aetiona  and  character 
with  iJiuse  of  the  Redeemer ;  and,  with  a  daring  fanati- 
dsm,  — for  which  I  can  hardly  find  a  name,  — seemed 
almost  to  consider  their  Seraphic  patriarch  lew  as  an 
imitator  and  follower  of  Christ  than  as  a  being  endued 
himself  with  a  divine  nature;  in  short  —  for  it  amounted 
to  that  —  as  a  reappearance,  a  sort  of  aoalar  of  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  again  visiting  this  earth ;  or  as  the 
Second  Angel  of  the  Tievelation,  to  whom  it  was  given 
to  set  a  aeal  on  the  elect.  A  memorial  of  this  extrava- 
gant enchnsiasm  still  exists  in  a  set  of  twenty-siic  Bniall 
pictures,  painted  by  Giotto  for  the  friars  of  the  Santa 
Croce  at  Florence.  (Fl.  Acad,  and  Berlin  Gal.)  It 
was  the  custom  in  the  rich  convents  to  have  tbe  presses 
and  chests  which  contained  the  sacred  vestments  and 
ntenails  omaniented  with  carvings  or  pictures  of  relig- 
ious snbjects.  These  twenty-six  pictures  adorned  tha 
doors  of  the  presses  in  the  sacristy  of  the  church  of 
Santa  Croce,  and  present  the  parallel  (already  received 
and  accredited,  not  invented  by  the  painter)  between  the 
life  of  our  Saviour  and  that  of  St.  Francis.  The  sab- 
jecis  have  an  ideal  and  mystical,  rather  than  a  literal, 
reference  to  each  other.  For  some  excellent  remaib 
on  this  curious  series,  I  must  refer  to  the  notes  ap- 
pended by  Sir  Charles  Eastlake  to  Eugler's  Handbook. 


|og  LEGENDS  Of  TUE  MOXASTIC  ORDERl 

NkluilM  V.  (In  144'J)  doccDdi  uiuo  Ihc  tomb  o| 
IVwKw  U  Auui,  which  liail  never  been  opened  d 
bli  iWth.  lie  li[i(ls  tito  bwly  entire  nnd  stxnding 
_ht;  kuwliug,  ho  lift*  llie  nil>c  lo  cxsmiDe  ilie  tc 
of  the  Bti^mam;  attcmUniB  niid  tnonlu  with  lorrlice 
■nuid  arDund :  m  in  ■  pictare  bj  Luhire.  in  tbc  Con- 
n4g;io  »iy\B,  and  moet  strikint;  for  iiflea.  —  AnoiJier 
picluro  of  tbu  mudo  scene,  a  most  extroordiniuy  und 
crowded  caiii|>oiition,  it  engraved  in  the  "  Dusaeldorf 
Gallery."* 

A  autaiD  poor  man  wu  cast  into  prison  by  an  ioex' 
onlile  creditor :  ho  besought  mercy  in  the  name  of  the 
holy  St.  Francifi ;  but  it  nflK  ttfiucd ;  bnt  Si.  PranciB 
bimidlf  appenmd,  broke  his  fetteiB,  opened  the  doors  of 
Ilia  dungeon,  and  set  bim  free.  There  is  a  pietnre  of 
this  subject  by  Giovaoni  Santi,  the  father  of  Baphael. 
(At  Cagli.  Capclla  Tiranni.)  St.  Peter,  the  patron 
laiat  of  prisoners,  stands  near  with  his  keys  ;  an  angel, 
attending  on  St.  Francis,  is  supposed  to  be  the  purtnut 
of  Uophael  when  a  boy.  I  &aw  a  draniiig  from  this 
fresco  at  Alton  Towers,  ditferiug  in  some  respects  irom 
the  minnte  (Icscripdon  given  by  FaGsavant. 

I  am  far  from  sapposing  that  wo  have  exhausted  tbe 
variety  of  UlustrBtion  connected  with  tbe  pictured  liie 
of  St.  Francis,  but  I  must  stop ;  I  must  not  be  tempted 
beyond  the  limits  of  my  snhjecl ;  I  must  forbear  to  give 
words  to  all  tlio  reBcetions,  all  Ihs  comparisonE  between 
the  past  and  the  prasenl,  which  have  ariHen  in  my  own 
mind  while  writing  the  fon^ing  pages,  and  which  will, 
I  trtut,  suggest  themselves  10  the  thoughtful  reader. 
I  have  heard  it  said  that  the  representations  of  this 
nuKt  popular  of  uU  the  monastic  saints,  and  of  ihe  wild 
and  oFten  revolting  lege[;ds  which  relate  to  bim,  wuaiy 
and  disgust  by  their  enillesa  repetition.     They  mast  do 


B  vri., 


bos  the  > 


ST.  CLARA. 


3°9 


■0  if  regarded  as  mere  pictures ;  for  there  are  few  oat 
of  tbe  VHBt  nnmber  which  are  really  good  ;  and  the  finer 
thej  are,  the  more  painful ;  — too  often,  at  least,  ii  is 
»o.  Thair  effi^ct  depends,  however,  on  the  amount  of 
^di  or  of  wise  thoughtfulncss,  not  less  than  on  the  taste, 
of  the  observer.  1  bavo  said  enough  to  ehow  what  ^ad, 
what  thrilling,  what  solemn  interest  lies  in  the  most 
boanliful  and  most  ancient  of  these  pictured  m<ma- 
mcnts ;  what  associations  of  terror  and  pit;  ma,y  be  ex- 
cited by  some  of  the  meanest.  Many  of  the  subjects 
and  groups  I  have  slightly  touched  upon  will  be  better 
understood  as  we  proceed  to  reriew  the  companions  and 
followers  of  St.  Fruicis,  who  are  supposed  to  share  his 
beatitude  in  heaven,  and  upon  whom  art  has  bestowed 
on  earth  a  glory  hardly  lees  than  his  own. 


St.  Cluu. 

Lot.  a*ncta  Oara.      Ital.  SanU  Chiara.     Fr.  Saints  Claire. 
Angoat  11, 13&3. 

"CUra Claris  pnecUra merlUfl  magna  La cobId claritatd  gkiriiB 
ae  in  tcira  mlracuJorum  lublimtuni  ctare  cLaret.^^ 

St.  Clara,  from  some  inevitabla  aasociatioo  of  ideas, 
always  comes  before  us  as  the  very  ideal  of  a  "Gray 
Sister,"  "sedate  and  awect";  or  of  a  beautiful  saintly 
abbess,  "  sober,  steadfast,  and  demure  "  ;  and  her  Gime 
and  popularity  as  a  patroness  have  rendered  her  musiml 
and  signilicant  name  popular  from  one  end  of  Europe 
to  the  other,  but  more  especially  in  Spain.  Her  story 
is  so  eminently  picturesque,  that  we  have  reason  to  ro- 
gret  that  as  a  pieiunsque  subject  so  little  ase  has  been 
made  of  it. 

Chira  d'Assisi  was  the  daughter  of  Favorino  SdSb, 
a  noble  knight ;  her  mother's  name  was  Ortolana.  Sba 
was  tbe  eldest  of  their  children ;  and  her  aocommon 
beauty,  and  the  great  wealth  of  her  parents,  expoaed 
Iter  to  many  temptations  and  many  \.Vat»  of         '     ~ 


oas  oeeu 

no  Sdab,  f 

acommon  I 

maniagie.  ^^^^^ 


I 


3  LEcr.ym  of  the  momast/c  orders, 

Bui  kIw  Iwd  beard  of  thcwo  who  were  aeekiag  the 
of  MlraiioQ  through  tlio  tliornj  patliB  of  mortidi 
•ml  iirntor;  anil  her  Ijoort  bnrul  icichin  licr  b  ' 
Ihiur  (uuinple.    While  jet  in  the  fine  bloom  of 

■he  hod  doTOted  borsotf  in  Kctet  to  ■  religious 
life ;  but  Iter  psienu  daily  ur^ed  her  to  marry ;  and 
urae,  being  dimractcd  throogli  ttii!  confliL't  within 
her  own  soul,  «ho  repaired  to  St.  Fruiiis  and  entreated 
tm  connul.  Be  believitig  that  the  way  he  had  choMD 
for  hitnseir  was  the  trae  way  lo  salvation,  adiiaed  liorat 
oDcu  to  renounce  the  world ;  and  ho  appointed  tba  Ibl- 
lowing  Palm-Sunday  as  tlie  day  on  which  she  ahoi 
come  to  him  luid  make  iuix  profession 

On  that  day,  according  to  the  Catholic  custom, 
Brrajod  in  her  moat  Bumptnons  apparel,  accompanii 
her  mother  Orlolana,  and  her  aisler  Agnes,  and  the 
of  her  bmily,  to  chardi;  ftod  when  all  thi!  others 
proacbed  the  altar  to  receive  the  paJm-branch  with 
wluch  to  join  tho  procession,  she  aione  remoined  kneel- 
ing afar  off* —  not  hfting  her  eyes,  throngh  a  sense  of 
her  own  nnworthinMS ;  wbicli  when  the  biElrop  beheld, 
touched  by  tier  maidenly  Immility  anil  bashfulnosG,  he 
descended  the  steps  of  the  altar,  aod  himself  placed  the 
palm-hrani^h  in  her  hand.  That  same  evening,  being 
still  arrayed  in  her  festal  garments,  she  threw  a  veil 
over  her  heod  and  escapod  iiiim  the  city ;  and  hurrying 
down  the  steep  asreut  on  foot,  she  arrived  breathless  at 
the  door  of  the  chapel  of  the  PorEioncola,  where  St. 
Francis  dwelt  with  his  then  small  broiherliood.  When 
stie  craved  admittance  for  '•  a  poor  penitent,"  they  met 
her  with  lighted  tapeis,  and  eondaetcd  her,  ringing 
bynms  of  praise,  to  the  altar  of  the  Virgin.  Then  she 
put  olF  her  splendid  attire,  and  St.  Franeie  with  his  own 
hands  cntolFborlDxnriiLnt  golden  tresses,  and  be  thtew 
ovei  her  his  own  poniten^al  habit,  and  she  became  his 
daoghter  and  disciple.  "DiEposo  of  me!  "  itlio  said, 
kneeling  at  his  feet.     "  I  am  yours  ;  for,  having 


liter  at 

Jielbl-  I 

ahouU>j^^^ 

herert'^^^V 


1  my  will  to  God,  i 


He  dedred  her  t 


take  Kfuge  in  the  a 


a  longer  my  o' 


It  of  S 


Paolo,  whither  her  father  and  her  binsnuMi  pursued  her. 
Had  oudoavorcd  to  furro  her  away ;  hut  she  p[uDg  to 
the  altar,  calliug  on  God  to  help  and  Btrcngtbea  hor ; 
and  they  were  compelled  to  dcsiat.  Soou  afterward^ 
her  yonnger  eister  Agnra,  inspired  by  hor  oxaroplo,  fled 
from  her  linnie — joined  her  in  the  convent  —  and 
solemitly  renoanced  the  world  at  the  age  of  Ibarteen  : 
other  ladies  or  high  rank  in  the  city  of  Assisi,  among 
whom  were  three  of  the  nobla  house  of  Ubaldiui,  nnitod 
themaelvea  lo  the  cm>  aisterB ;  and  at  length  their 
mother,  Ortolana,  —  perhaps  because  aha  coald  not 
endure  aeparation  from  her  children :  and  from  Chis 
time  the  Order  of  tho  "  Poor  Clares  "  dalea  its  com- 

The  role  was  as  auatore  as  that  of  St.  Francis.  The 
habit  was  a  gown  of  gray  wool  girded  with  knotted 
cord ;  on  the  head  they  wore  a  white  coif,  and  over  it, 
when  they  went  abroad,  e.  blact  veil.  They  went  bare- 
foot or  aaudalled  ;  their  bed  was  the  hard  earth  ;  absti- 
tieace  and  silence  were  strictly  ordajocd,  mora  <;specially 
■iteoce :  but  volontary  poverty,  the  grand  diatiaction 
of  the  whole  Franciscan  Order,  was  what  St.  Clara 
most  inaistod  on ;  and  when,  on  the  death  of  her  fiilhor, 
she  inherited  (jroat  wealth,  ahe  diacrihnci.'d  the  whole  of 
her  patrimony  to  the  hospitals  and  (ho  poor,  reserving 
nothing  for  herself  nor  for  her  aistcrhood.  They  wore 
to  exist  iiterally  upon  charity  '  when  nothing  was  given 
to  thern,  they  fasted,  Clara  henelf  set  an  example  of 
hnmility  by  washing  tho  feet  of  the  lay  sisters  when 
tlujy  returned  from  begging,  and  meekly  serving  them 
at  nUile.  The  extreme  ansterity  of  her  life  wasted  her 
health ;  bnt,  even  when  ahe  had  ioat  the  uac  of  her 
limbs,  ahe  sat  up  in  bed  and  span  flax  of  marveUoos 
Gneuesa. 

M  this  time  the  Emperor  Frederic  ravi^od  the 
shores  of  the  Adriacie ;  and  he  had  in  his  army  a  band 
of  infidel  Saracens,  to  whom  he  luid  granted  the  foctreBa 
of  Nocera,  since  called,  from  them,  Nocera-ilei-Mori ; 
and  they  rallied  from  this  place  of  strength,  and  plan- 


I 


lECEliDa  OF  TUE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


nnil  viltegcs  of  the  vsllej  of  Spoli 
■■  nnil  Dinile  the  iiihubiUnU  ilrlnk  to  the  rlrv^  o' 
cfaklli-c  or  wnuli  and  rmihltT."  One  dn;  thov  hiIt) 
neoriy  to  tliu  gucs  nf  Awlai,  and  nttnrlicd  Ihe  mhi 
of  San  Diuiiiiiuo.  The  noiu,  seiied  with  ta 
dvapMr,  nuhnl  to  the  hedsiile  of  th^r  "  Mother, 
and  rooerod  around  her  like  frightened  dovea  when 
hawk  hiu  stooped  upon  their  doTC-rot.  Bnl  ClantT 
then  gafibrioK  ftom  a  gjievoiu  malod;,  and  long  bed- 
ridden, imtneilinlelj  aroee,  foil  of  holy  fiiith;  —  took 
from  the  alinr  the  pix  of  ivory  and  silver  which  con- 
tained the  Hoit,  placed  it  on  the  thiBabold,  and,  kneel- 
ing down  in  from  of  her  siateihood,  began  (o  sing  in  a 
clear  voice,  "  Thoa  luist  rdnik-fd  At  heathen,  thou  haxt 
deittogeil  Ihe  widitd,  llion  host  put  cut  Ihar  name  Jiir  ecer 
ami  eeer  I "  whereupon  the  barbarinna,  seized  with  a 
sodden  panic,  throw  down  their  arms  and  fled. 

And  the  {kmo  of  tbia  great  and  muracolonH  deliret^ 
ance  wat  spread  far  and  wide  ;  so  tbat  the  people 
thronged  from  all  the  neighboring  cities  to  obiun  the 
prayers  and  interrcasioti  of  Clara.  Pope  Iniuwonl  IV. 
Tisited  her  in  person,  solemnly  confinnod  the  rate  of 
ber  Order,  and  before  her  death  ehe  hod  the  satiafaction 
of  seeing  it  received  thronghont  Christendom,  while 
many  prineesBea  and  ladies  of  the  noblest  houses  had 
BBBomed  the  penilontlBl  cord  of  the  Third  Order  of  her 

At  the  age  of  aixty,  after  years  of  ncnte  bodily  anf- 
lenng,  bnt  always  faithfnl  and  fbrveat  in  spirit,  she  ex- 
pired in  a  kind  of  trance  or  rupturoas  vision,  believing 
beiEelf  called  by  heavenly  voices  to  exchange  hra 
earthly  penance  lor  "  a  crown  of  rejoicing." 

Her  sister  Agnes,  who  bod  been  sent  lu  Florence  as 
Superior  of  a  mnvent  there,  came  to  attend  her  on  her 
death-bed,  and  succeeded  her  as  second  Abbess. 

After  the   death  of  St.  CInru,  the  eisicrhood,  for 

greater  safety,  removed   fhjra   San  naminno  to  San 

I  '  Giorgio,  within  the  walls  of  Assrsi,  and  carried  wi&ll 


This  church,  i 


Y  Satit 


ST.  CLARA. 


1'3 


Chiara  di  Asaiei,  has  become  the  chief  church  of  ber 
Order. 

She  was  canonized  in  1256.  She  had  bequeathed  to 
her  UBterhood,  in  the  raoEt  eolemn  lenaB,  ■'  the  inheri- 
tance of  porert;  and  hnmilitj  " ;  bat  nithia  the  next 
half  centarj  the  Clarea,  like  the  Franciscans,  were  re- 
leased, as  a  body,  from  their  vow  of  'povrmy.  Their 
hooses  sabsequentij  became  the  favorite  asylnm  for 
oppressed  and  sorrowing,  parentlesa,  hnabandlaas,  home- 
less women  of  all  classes. 

The  eloqaent  author  of  a  recent  Life  of  St.  Francis 
styles  6t.  Clara  "the  disobedient  Clara,"  and  Indicates 
some  aUrm  lest  young  ladies  of  our  own  time  should 


maiden  meditation,  when  they  ought  to  be  thinking 
rather  of  balls  and  matrimony. 

Now  the  idea  that  Heaven  is  best  propitiated  by  the 
renunciation  of  all  earthly  duties  and  affections,  is  not 
peculiar  to  the  period  in  which  Clara  lived  ;  nor  should 
she  be  stigmatil^ed  as  disobedient  becaose  sho  chose 
what  she  considered  the  better  part,  —  the  higher  obedi- 
ence. The  mistake  lies  in  supposing  that  the  ailbctians 
and  duties  of  this  world  can  ever  be  safely  trampled 
under  our  feet,  or  accounted  as  snares,  rather  than  aa 
means  through  which  God  leads  us  to  himself.  Yet  it 
is  a  mistake  too  common  to  1)0  justly  made  a  reproach 
against  this  self-denying  cathusiaslic  woman  of  the 
thirteenth  century ;  who,  moreover,  in  ignorance  of 
the  spirit  of  Christ's  doctrine,  might  easily  shelter  her- 
self under  the  letter; . —  "If  any  man  come  to  me,  and 
iate  not  hia  &thcr  and  mother,  and  wife  and  children, 
and  brethren  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  hfe  also,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple." 

"  Madam,"  said  an  English  traveller  to  t2ie  abbess 
of  a  foreign  convent,  "you  are  here,  not  from  the  love 
of  Tiitae,  but  from  the  fear  of  vice."  Is  not  this  prin- 
dpU  the  bMiB  of  all  female  edncation  to  the  present 


^ 


JU* 


J  OF  THE  MOX.iSnC  ORDERS^ 


I 


hoar  !  b  DM  fear  of  ovit,  rUher  tluui  &ith  in  good, 
iiKutcBted  ly  precept,  by  cuample.  bj  all  prasiure  rnral 
withonl.  loaving  un  atmuEiBmcd  from  witjiin?  —  u4tb- 
out  Kuidii  lu  to  tlie  reltttiTe  nine  of  oar  dotiea,  noiil 
we  arc  miule  to  balisve  that  God's  earth  uid  God's 
hnvcn  BTO  necceearilj  oppoicd  to  each  other  %  A  wo- 
nuill  thus  liniid  in  conscience,  thns  aostatile  in  faith, 
nntouclit  ^  reMon,  with  feelings  suppressed,  rather 
tliM  mntrnllod  uiil  itgnlued,  —  whither  shall  she 
rarry  her  perplexed  life  ?  —  where  Uj  down  the  bur- 
den of  her  n'sponsibilitj  1  May  she  not  be  forgiven, 
if,  like  Clara,  she  yield  np  her  responsibility  to  her 
Maker  into  other  hands,  and  "  lay  down  her  life  in 
order  that  she  may  find  it "  ? 

Bnt  wo  miut  return  from  this  moral  digresEion  to 
tlio  effigies  qf  St.  Clara. 

Prom  early  timps  she  hug  been  considered  as  a  type 
of  religious  feeling,  a  perwnificiition  of  female  piety ; 
and  I  have  Been  jignres  which,  no  douht,  were  intended 
to  represent  St.  Clara  in  her  personal  character,  as 
saint,  misloken  Ibr  allegorical  figures  of  religion. 

When  she  besra  the  poltn  (ng  in  this  effigy  afier  (he 
fine  intarsiatura  Id  the  choir  of  San  Francesro  di  Assisi) 
it  ig  not  as  martyr.  It  is  the  palm  of  victory  oser  suf- 
fering, pcrseeolion,  and  temptation.  Or  it  may  i«pre- 
eent  here  the  palm-branch  which  was  taken  from  the 
altar  and  placiHl  in  her  band. 

In  the  TCry  ancient  portrait  in  bcr  ehorch  at  Aeeisi, 
which  bcsTB  the  dale  of  I3S1,  and  llic  name  of  Martin 


IV., 


She  also  bears  the  lily ;  and  is  distinpnished  from 
the  oamenma  female  saints  who  bear  the  same  emblem 
by  her  gray  habil,  and  the  cord  of  St.  Francis,  which 
stamp  her  identity  at  once. 

In  deTDtional  pictures  ehe  is  generally  yonng,  beaa- 
tifiii,  and  with  a  peculiar  expression  of  soft  resiyriBtion. 
She  wears  the  habit  of  her  Order,  tlie  gray  tunic,  tbe 
knotted  girdle,  and  the  bhtck  rsil.    Eer  proper  attribate 


ST.  CLARA. 

is  the  I^  contwning  the  Host,  in  alluuoii  Ic 
dIodb  diepeisioQ  of  the  Saracens. 

Sometimes  she  is  koGoling  before  the  Ti^n,  ot  oar 
Savioar  ;  and  presenting  the  Pix. 

Aa  the  Modre  Serafica,  foaadress  and  saperior  of  the 
firat  cominunit7  of  Franciscan  mins,  she  etands  with 
her  book  and  her  croaier.  Id  the  Madonna  pictares 
painted  (br  her  Order,  she  oenallj  stands  on  one  side 
of  the  throne  of  the  Virgin,  and  St.  Francis  on  the 
other.  (Bassano,  Yienna  Gal.)  In  a  picture  bj  Alo- 
retto  she  is  grouped  with  8i.  Catherine,  the  two  togeth- 
er syraboliziug  wisdom  and  piety;  and  when  grouped 
with  Mary  Magdalene,  they  are  symbols  of  penitence 
and  piety. 

lectures  from  her  history,  those  at  least  which  I  have 
met  with,  are  coofiaed  to  three  subjects  :  — 

1 .  She  makes  her  profession  by  night  at  the  feet  of 
St.  Francis ;  as  in  a  pictore  by  Zoibaran.  (Agnado 
Oal.) 

3.  She  opposes  the  Saracens.  This  is  the  great  event 
of  her  life,  and  is  often  represented.  I  remember  a  pic- 
ture iu  the  Bologna  Gallery  (Lncio  Massari),  in  which 
the  Saracens,  terrible  bearded  Itarbarians,  are  tumbling 
backwards  over  each  other  from  their  scaling-ladders, 
while  St.  Clara,  carrying  the  Host,  and  attended  by 
her  sisterhood,  calmly  stands  above. 

3.  The  most  beautiful  picture  of  St  Clara  I  have 
ever  seen  represents  t)ie  death  of  the  saint,  or  rather  the 

vision  which  preceded  htir  death ;  it  was  painted  by 
Mnrillo,  for  his  friends  the  Franciscans  of  Seville,  — 
"  and  thence  sttien  by  Soult,"  I  saw  it  some  years 
ago  in  the  Agnado  Gallery.  St.  Clara  Ilea  on  her  couch, 
her  heavenly  face  lighted  up  with  an  ecstatic  expression. 
Weeping  nuns  and  triars  stand  arounii ;  —  she  sees  them 
not,  —  her  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  glorious  procession 
which  approaches  her  bed  :  first,  oar  Saviour,  leading 
lus  Virgin-mother ;  they  are  followed  by  a  company  of 
Tirgin-martyTB,  headed  by  St.  Catherine,  all  wearing 
their  crowns  and  bearing  their  palms,  as  (hongh  they 


^ 


I 


I  her  to  their  patadisc 
Nothing  can  be  imaged  more  beantifhl,  hi  _ 
elyman  Ihon  iIipbp  figures,  nor  more  diTino  with  fl 
mid  transport  than  the  head  of  St.  Clitra.  I  do  not 
know  who  is  now  the  eorlnblo  posecssor  of  thie  lovely 
picture.  There  is  a  amn]!  poor  sketch  oTthe  subject  ia 
tho  Lonvre,  there  railed  a  Murillo. 

A  series  of  pictures  from  her  life  usnallj  t>^nB  with 
her  profeBsioi]  hy  night  at  the  feet  of  St.  Franria,  bnt  I 
have  never  seen  ft  treated  with  that  pii^unsque  feeling 
and  effect  of  which  it  is  snsceptihlo.  Tiio  walls  of  her 
lonely,  voncn^le  old  church  nt  Assisi  are  covered  with 
a  comptoto  BCries  of  aneienc  IVeecos,  atlrilinted  to  GEot- 
tino,  hut  in  a  most  mined  stnle,  having  been  while- 
WBshed  orer.  I  conld  just  make  out  a  ftw  of-tha 
subjects  where  an  attempt  had  been  rei*enlly  made  to 
clean  them.  I.  Sbo  receives  the  palm-branch  belbre 
the  altar ;  2.  she  files  from  bcr  fallier'a  house ;  3.  she 
kneels  before  St.  Francis,  and  rereivcs  the  habit  from 
his  hands  ;  4.  she  dies  in  presence  of  the  Divine  per- 
sonages and  the  virgin-raartyra,  ns  in  Mnrillo's  pictDre ; 
5.  she  is  carried  to  the  tomji,  —  among  the  attendants 
is  Been  Cardinal  Bonarcntura. 

In  the  vault  over  itie  clioir  the  paintings  are  less  in- 
jured, and  must  have  been  exqaisitely  beantiful.  There 
am  four  compartments:  I.  The  Madonoa  and  Child 
onthroDed;  beaide  them  St.  Claro standing;  undaronnd, 
angcla  bearing  censers,  Bowers,  and  palms.  2.  St.  Ca- 
therine and  Bt.  Mai^ret.  3.  St.  Agnes,  and  Agnea 
tite  sister  of  St.  Clara  as  a  nun.  4.  St.  Christina  and 
St.  Cedlia.  I  do  not  know  whether  any  copies  or  en- 
gravings exist  of  these  lovely  figures. 

The  church,  as  I  rcmembor,  had  a  cold,  forsaken, 
inelaneholy  air.  Very  dilfcrent  was  tho  impression 
made  by  the  Chnrch  of  San  Franceseo,  which  we  eu- 
lored  at  the  moment  when  it  was  crowded  with  worship- 
pers, and  the  sounds  of  a  magnificent  organ,  swelled 
by  human  voices,  rolled  through  the  dimly  lighted 
vaults,  —  dim,  yet  gloiions  ;  covered,  wherever  the  eye 


ST.  ANTONY  OF  PADUA. 


317 


eoald  penetrate,  with  groups  from  sacred  story ;  with 
endless  yarietj  of  ornament —  with  color,  with  life,  with 
beauty ! 

St.  Antony  op  Padua. 

Lot.  SaoctoB  AntODius  Thaumaturgus.  Ital.  Sant*  Antonio  di 
Padova,  II  Santo.  Sp.  San  Antonio  de  Padua,  Sol  brillante  de 
la  Iglesia,  Lustre  de  la  Religion  Serafica,  Qloiia  de  Portugal, 
Honor  de  Espana,  Tesorero  de  Italia,  Terror  del  Infiemo,  Mar- 
tillo  Fuerte  de  la  Heresia,  entre  los  Santos  por  excelencia,  el 
MQagrero.    June  13, 1231. 

Habit.  Gray  in  the  earliest  pictures,  afterwards  dark  brown, 
with  the  hood  and  cord  of  St.  Francis. 

ATnuBUTES.  The  book  and  lily  ]  a  flame  of  fire  in  his  hand,  or 
in  his  breast.  The  infont  Christ  in  his  arms,  or  on  his  book.  A 
mule  kneeling. 

Even  in  the  lifetime  of  St.  Francis,  arose  one  who 
imbibed  his  spirit  and  carried  oat  his  views,  and  whose 
popularity  in  religious  art  is  next  to  his  own.  St.  An- 
tony of  Padua  was  a  Portuguese  by  birth;  and  at  the 
time  that  the  remains  of  the  five  friars  who  had  sufiered 
martyrdom  at  Morocco  were  brought  to  Libson,  he 
was  so  touched  by  the  recital  of  their  suflferings,  that  he 
took  the  habit  of  St.  Francis,  and  devoted  himself  to 
the  life  of  a  missionary,  with  a  fixed  determination 
to  obtain  the  crown  of  martyrdom  in  the  cause  of 
Christ.  For  this  purpose  he  set  off  for  Morocco  to 
convert  the  Moors,  but  God  had  disposed  of  him  other- 
wise, for,  having  landed  in  Africa,  he  was  seized  with 
a  lingering  illness,  which  paralyzed  all  his  efforts,  and 
obliged  him  to  re-embark  for  Europe.  Contrary,  or, 
as  they  may  be  called,  favorable  winds  drove  him  to 
the  coast  of  Italy,  and  he  arrived  at  Assisi  at  the  very 
moment  when  St.  Francis  was  holding  the  first  general 
chapter  of  his  Order.  St.  Francis  was  soon  aware  of 
the  value  of  such  a  coadjutor,  and,  feeling  the  want  of 
A  man  of  science  and  learning  in  his  community,  en- 
couraged him  to  devote  himself  to  his  studies.    Antony 


}tg  LEGENDS  OF  TBS  MONASTIC  ORDEBa. 


did  so,  and  taught  diTinitjr  with  g<«ai  disiiDFiion  in  the 
uiiinrKilii'B  (if  Bolouna,  Toulonac.  Fans,  and  Pailtia; 
but  at  Iciiglh  he  fbnook  all  other  cm  ploy  meals,  re- 
nounrod  ilic  honon  of  ilie  scboola,  and  dBioiud  liiDieclf 
wholly  as  n  preacher  Kmoog  the  people.  To  an  eaey 
gT&ccfal  QuriBKC,  a  beoign  couulCDsnc«,  and  a  flow  of 
moel  pcTTUuire  e1cK|Uoiira,  be  added  advuntnges  not 
yol  diaplayod  by  any  of  the  Pmncincan  leachora,  — 
gnax  okill  id  argument,  aod  an  indmata  acqnaintaocti 
Hitb  ttie  learning;  of  the  theologies]  lehools. 

I  will  not  now  dwall  upon  the  minu'leB  which  the 
unthusiaiim  of  hia  followers  afierwards  imputed  to  mm. 
There  can  be  do  doubt  that  he  excrcieed,  in  his  lile- 
dmc.  as  a  missionai;  preacher,  n  most  salutary  and 
hnnisnizmg  influence.  Ital;  viaa  at  tbut  time  disinu-ted 
by  inteatino  wais,  and  oppressed  by  a  tyntuBy  go  mon- 
itrouB,  that,  if  it  were  but  possible,  we  ehoDld,  for  the 
honor  of  humaoity,  take  refuge  in  nnbclicf.  The  ex- 
Mtwes  and  barbarities  nf  tbo  later  Romao  einpcrors 
seemed  to  be  ouulone  by  some  of  tlie  petty  BovereigDH 
of  Northern  Italy.  Aoiony,  wherever  be  came,  preadied 
peace,  bat,  lo  use  hia  own  words,  it  "  was  the  peace  of 
jujticQ,  and  the  peace  of  liberty."  The  gencroua  bold- 
ness with  which  he  rebuked  the  insane  cruelties  of 
Eccellino,  seeklog  him  in  his  own  palace  to  denottnce 
him  as  "  iatolcrablB  before  Ood  and  man,"  oaght  Lo 
cover  Mm  with  eternal  honor.  Everywhere  he  pleaded 
the  cause  of  the  poor,  and,  the  crowds  wlio  sKsembled' 
to  hear  him  being  greater  Chan  could  be  conlwned  in 
any  church,  ho  generally  preached  in  the  open  air.' 
Like  St.  Francis,  he  was  a  man  of  a  poetical  imagina^ 
tion,  and  a  lender  bBurt,  overflowing  with  the  love  of 
nature,  and  particularly  of  the  lower  crcatnroa,  appeal- 
ing lo  them  often  ts  exumplea  lo  his  audience.  The 
whiteness  and  gentleness  of  the  awone,  the  raulnol 
charity  of  the  storks,  the  pnrity  and  fragisDce  of  the 
flowera  of  the  field, —  these  he  dwelt  on  often  with 
delight ;  and  as  St.  Francis  was  said  lo  have  preached 
m  the  fowls  of  the  air,  eo  St.  Antony  k  wjd  to  have 


BT.  AlfTONY  OF  PADUA. 


3'9 


preached  to  the  fujhea  of  tlia  aca.  The  plain  fact  acems 
to  havo  boon,  that  in  prcachiug  (o  aorao  obatiaate  un- 
betievers  he  was  heard  to  aaj  that  he  might  as  well 
pieach  to  the  fiabes,  (ot  tbty  would  more  readily  lislen 
to  him  ;  but  the  legend  relates  the  story  thos  :  —  "St. 
Antany  being  come  cu  the  c^ity  uf  Rimini,  where  were 
maoy  heretics  and  uabelievers,  he  preorhed  to  tbcm 
nipentance  and  a  new  life  ;  but  tliej  stopped  their  ears, 
and  refused  to  listen  to  him.  Whcroupon  bo  repnired 
to  Che  sea-shoni,  and,  titretching  forth  his  huad,  he  said, 
'Hear  me,  ye  fishes,  for  these  nnbelievera  cefnso  lo 
lillen  1 '  and,  truly,  It  was  a  marrellous  thing  to  see 
how  an  inlinilB  numbar  of  fishes,  great  and  little,  Ufted 
their  heads  above  water,  and  listened  attentively  to  the 
sermoD  of  the  saint !  "  Tho  Other  miracbsa  related  of 
St-  Antony  I  pass  over  here :  it  will  he  sufficient  to 
describe  the  pictnrea  in  which  they  are  ropresonied. 
After  an  active  ministry  of  ten  years,  he  died,  worn  out 
by  fatigues  and  aosterities,  in  his  thirty-sixth  year,  , 
rodting  hia  favorite  hymn  to  the  Virgin,  —  "0  gloriosa 
Domina  1 "  The  btotherhood  desired  lo  keep  his 
death  a  secret,  that  they  might  bury  him  in  their 
cbarch,  feariog  that  the  citizens  of  Padua  would  appro- 
priate the  remaina;  but  the  very  children  of  Ibc  cit;, 
b^ng  divinely  instigated  thereto,  ran  about  the  streets 
crying  with  a  loud  voice,  "  II  Sanio  e  morlo !  It  SaMo 
i  morlo!"  wheneo  it  has  been  the  custom  in  Padno, 
from  that  time  even  to  this  day,  lo  style  St.  Antony  II 
&AHTO,  without  adding  hia  name. 

Within  a  year  after  his  death  bo  waa  canonized  by 
Pope  GrEgorj  IX.,  and  the  cidiena  of  Padua  decreed 
thai  a  church  should  he  erected  lo  lilra  at  the  public 
Bit|ioiiBC.  NiL-cola  Pisano  iilanoad  and  commoncwl  this 
magnijicent  edifice  in  1237,  but  it  was  not  brought  to 
its  present  form  fbr  two  cencnries  later.  "  The  exterior, 
with  its  extraordinary  spires  and  ila  eight  domes,  has 
somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  mosque.  Within,  the 
loftj  polygonal  apais  wltb  its  elongated  pointed  arches, 
and  the  rich  Grothic  screens  which  surronnd  the  choir. 


Maufy  to  the  portUUlf  of  ibo  FnaciuKOi  for  thu  Gothic 
•tyloi  whlt^h,  in  Iialy,  tliey  wmii  to  hate  rouGiderad  as 
mora  peculiarly  their  owu."  (v.  Mlutuj'b  Iluidiiook.) 
The  diopel  which  contaiaa  the  ehrino  of  the  enJQl 
WM  begun  in  IbOO  hy  Giovuini  Uinello.  and  Anionio 
}aa  BOQ  i  nnitinued  by  Sansoviuo,  tuid  cooiptsMd  by 
Fakooetto  in  15^3.  It  is  odc  raae^  o(  omamcDt, 
splendid  with  marblo  and  alabaster  acalpturo,  bronzes, 
and  gold  and  xilvur  kiups,  —  the  very  luxury  of  de- 
votion. 

There  ia  not  in  all  Italy  a  church  more  rich  in  monn- 
loeBU  of  ancient  and  modern  art  then  this  of  Saot' 
Aulonio.  Among  the  most  curioua  of  iheeo  monn- 
meuts  must  bo  reck-oood  the  earliest  known  ejligy  of 
8t.  Aolony,  and  which  appears  to  have  been  followed 
in  alt  the  best  cEprcaentationa  of  bim.  He  Is  a  young 
mao,  with  a  mild  melancholy  L'onoteuance,  do  beard, 
wearing  the  ha.bit  and  cord  of  St.  Ftsacia,  the  r^I 
band  extended  ia  benediction,  tlie  Gospel  in  the  left ;  a 
votary  kocola  on  each  udo.  In  the  devotional  flgutes 
Mb  most  usuhI  atiributes  ore  the  lily  and  the  crudSx ; 
tbe  lily  being  sometimes  twined  round  the  crudfix.  In 
pictures  of  tbe  Siena  school  he  liolds  a  flame  of  fire 
in  bia  band,  as  emblem  of  his  ardent  piety.  A  very 
common  represenlalioQ  is  thai  of  St.  Anioay  careGSitig 
the  InGint  Christ,  who  is  seen  Btaiiding  upon  bis  book  j 
or  he  holds  tbe  divine  InlknC  in  bis  arma.  In  snob 
representations  we  must  be  careful  lo  distinguish  him 
from  St.  Frnnda. 

It  is  related  that  on  one  occasion,  as  lie  was  expound- 
ing lo  his  hearers  tbs  mystei^  of  tbe  IncamuUou,  the 
fbnn  of  the  Infiuit;  Christ  descended  and  stood  upon  bia 
book.  This  is  called  ■<  the  Vision  of  St.  Antony  of 
Padua,"  and  is  a  very  frequent  subject. 

The  miracloB  and  incidents  of  the  life  of  St.  Antony, 
cither  treated  as  a  aeries  ur  as  separate  pictnn^,  gener- 
ally find  a  place  in  every  Frantiscan  church  or  con- 
rent.  The  most  celebrated  series  which  occun  in 
painting  is  that  which  was  executed  by  Titian  and 


8T,  ANTONY  OF  PADUA.  311 

Campagnola  in  a  building  near  his  charch  at  Padoa, 
called  the  **  Scaola  del  Santo,"  a  kind  of  chapter- 
house belonging  to  the  convent.  There  is  another 
example  at  Bologna  (S.  Petronio).  The  most  cele- 
brated instance  in  sculpture  is  the  fine  series  of  basso- 
relieyos  on  the  walls  of  the  chapel  which  contains  his 
shrine  (Padua).  In  these,  and  in  every  other  instance 
I  can  remember,  the  subjects  selected  are  the  same. 
The  miracles  attributed  to  St.  Antony  are  all  of  a 
homely  and  prosaic  character  when  they  are  not  mani- 
festly absurd ;  the  influence  he  exercised  in  the  domes- 
tic and  socisd  relations  of  life  seems  to  have  suggested 
most  of  these  legends  : — 

1.  The  saint,  after  laying  aside  the  Augustine  habit, 
receives  the  Franciscan  habit  at  Coimbra  in  Portugal. 
On  this  occasion  he  dropped  his  baptismal  name  of 
Ferdinand,  and  took  that  of  Antony,  the  patron  of  the 
convent  at  Coimbra. 

2.  A  certain  noble  lady,  dwelling  in  Padua,  was  the 
wife  of  a  valiant  officer ;  and  not  less  remarkable  iot 
her  beauty  and  modesty,  than  for  her  particular  devo- 
tion to  the  saint.  Her  husband,  wrought  upon  by  some 
malignant  slanderer,  stabbed  his  innocent  wife  in  a 
transport  of  jealousy,  and  then  rushed  from  his  house 
in  an  agony  of  despair  and  remorse ;  but  meeting  St. 
Antony,  he  was  induced  to  return  home,  where  he 
found  his  wife  still  breathing.  The  saint  restored  her 
by  his  prayers,  which  had  such  an  effect  upon  the  hus- 
band "  che  di  Lupo  ch*  egli  era  divenisse  int  agntSo,** 

The  fresco  is  by  Titian. 

3.  A  certain  noble  lady  of  Lisbon  was  beloved  by 
a  youth,  her  equal  in  rank ;  but  a  deadly  feud,  like  that 
of  the  Montagus  and  Capulets,  had  long  separated  the 
two  families ;  and  no  sooner  did  her  brothers  suspect 
the  object  of  her  love,  than  they  resolved  to  assassinate 
him.  Shortly  after,  the  young  man  was  slain  in  the 
public  streets,  and  his  body  was  buried  in  a  garden  be- 
longing to  Martin  Bullone,  the  &ther  of  St  Antony. 

21 


I 


jM    LEGESDS  OF  TUE  HONASTIC  ORDEl 

Tbe  old  nuta  vas  acciuod  u  the  author  of  his  d 

'  priwiD.  mai  was  aboat  to  be  led  it 
(ion.  ithvu  8l.  Aulotiy.  wlio  Hi 
tbn  Oospel  at  I'adiu,  wa«  tranaported  b;  a 
Lubon.  and  suddenly  appeared  in  bodily  fonn  b 
Ibe  intiiutii  asiouinlnoent  oi 
jadge,  the  accusen.aad  uoE  lew  of  tbe  accosed- 
Antonj,  raisiDg  hu  voice,  commanded  that  tbo  d 
body  of  (ho  tnurdered  youth  should  be  prodiu^,  ■ 
QuTorced  him  to  apeak  and  acquit  the  old  m 
share  in  his  deolb ;  which  woadorfiil  and  it  ' 
incredible  event  ia  related,  with  all  the  p 
the  life  of  tbo  aoinl  written  hy  Lelio  Mandni  Po1i^ 

The  bas-relief  of  thii;  subject  is  by  Campagna,  a  pupil 
of  Sansovino.    Tbe  fresco  is  by  one  of  Titian's  scbolajs. 

4.  A  young  maiden  named  Canlla,  being  drowned^ 
is  it«tored  by  the  prayen  of  '        ' 

Tbe  bas-relief  is  a  clief-d'ceuvre  of  Sansortno. 
(tbsco  is  poor. 

5.  A  young  child,  who  was  scalded  to  death,  is 
restored  at  the  iotcrcession  of  Ibe  si ' 

The  bas-reUef  is  by  Culaneo.  The  fresco  ia  not  re- 
markable. 

6.  St.  Antonio,  being  called  upon  to  preach  the 
faoeral  sermon  of  a  very  rich  man,  who  bud  been  re- 
markable for  hia  avarice  and  bis  uhury,  chose  for  his 
text,  "  Where  the  iroasura  is,  (here  will  the  heart  hit 
also,"  and,  ingieod  of  prusing  the  dead,  denoonced  htm 
08  condemned  for  his  misdeeds  In  eternal  puniehmeDt. 
"Hia  heart,"  he  said,  "is  buried  in  his  treasure  chest; 
go  seek  it  there,  and  you  will  find  it."  Whorenpon 
the  friends  and  relations  goiog  (o  break  open  the  chast, 
found  thero  tbe  heart  of  the  miaer,  amid  a  heap  of 
ducats ;  tmd  this  miracle  was  further  eittahUalied  whett, 
upon  opening  the  breast  of  the  dead  man,  tbey  found 
his  bearl  was  gone  :  which  extraordinary  event  occoned 
in  the  city  of  Florence,  and  ia  related  by  the  samB 
veiadouB  author,  LeUo  Mandni  Foliiiano. 

The  bas-relief  by  Tollio  Lombard!  is  very  dramali 


The  fresco  ia  inpposwl  to  be  by  CampBgnolo,  nnd  is 
•Ibo  Extremely  exjtrcasive ;  the  natouiBhwl  pliysidtm  and 
his  asEistaaU  toe  in  the  act  of  auatomtzing  the  i^«ad 
nanrer.  Tbero  is  also  an  ebiboratu  b]is-rclLer  ia  broasa 
by  DonaioUo. 

There  is  a  Utile  picture  by  Pesclllno  of  this  sabject, 
which  is  foj:  enp^or  to  any  of  the  above  examples- 
D  origioaliy  fanned  part  of  the  predelln  of  ad  altikr- 
piiwc  in  Santa  Croce.  The  gronp  of  listening  womeii 
raDg:ed  ia  front  ts  exquisite  for  simgilicity,  grace,  and 
dSTOnt  Jiiith  in  tho  power  of  the  soiat.  Mr.  Rogers 
has  the  original  drawing. 

T.  Thero  wtu  a  certain  yonth  of  Padua  named  Leo- 
nardo, who  came  to  cn&ke  confession  to  the  eoJat,  and 
revesled  to  liim.,  with  many  tears,  that;  in  a  fit  of  anger 
he  bad  kicked  his  mutber.  Tho  saint,  unublo  to  restrain 
his  horror  and  indignation  at  audi  an  onnataral  crime, 
exclaimed  "  that  tho  foot  that  hod  so  offended  dcserred 
lobecutotfl"  The  yoang  man,  roshing  frtim  the 
confe^ional  in  despair,  atuzed  ui  axe  and  cut  oif  his 
fbot.  A  spectator  ran  to  inform  the  saint,  who  hastened 
to  the  youth,  and  by  iiis  prayers  healed  tho  Kevered 

The  boa-rellef  is  by  Tnllia  Lombardi.     The  freaea 
bj*  Titian.     In  tioth  the  mother  ia  iaterce^ng  for  her 
K  guilty  son.     There  is  another  example  by  Treviaani. 

8.  There  was  a  certain  Alcardino,  a  soldier  by  pro- 
feaion,  who.  na  it  shonld  seem,  was  little  belter  than 
an  atheist,  for  he  absolutely  refused  to  believe  in  the 
miracleB  of  the  saint ;  and  when  the  children  ran  abont 
the  streets,  cryii^  out  "  II  Santo  h  mono,"  be  only 
shrugged  his  shooldcra.  "  I  will  believe,"  ho  said,  "  in 
all  these  wonders  if  tiie  gloss  cup  which  I  hold  in  my 
hand  be  not  broken  " ;  and  he  at  the  Hume  time  Song 
it  from  the  balcony  where  he  stood,  upon  the  marble 
pavement  below.  The  xlab  of  marble  was  broken  by 
the  collision ;  the  glass  remained  uninjured  ;  a  ntimde 
that  most  have  stdeed  to  convince  the  most  obttiaate 


I 


j««  LEOEHDa  OF  THE  UOfTASTTC  OROEi 

h  wen  iHe  sarth,  while  uoond  Mm  Soati  and  hoTenl 
enmpanj  of  clwruha,  niost  of  them  i^hildren,  (brminga 
neb  earlauduf^i^nceful  fbrmiuutlovolj  &cei.  ~ 
Dp  i[i  raptun;  at  iliia  duitiDg  vinoa,  St.  Aatonj'  b 
with  aniu  ouucrvtchcd  to  receive  the  approachit 
8«vioar.  On  a  Ubln  'n  a  tbmi  conniuiag  white  liU« 
tha  proper  Bltribiito  of  the  aoint,  pointed  mlh  »\ 
Zttuxis-Uke  skill,  that  tirda  woBdoriDg  among  the  tii 
luTO  beea  aeen  iwcmpling  to  porch  on  it  and  peck  d 
flowers."  (ArtiauorSpaiD,  p.  841.)  The  figures  m 
Urger  than  life. 

St.  Anlony  with  the  Infant  Saviour  in  bis  arms  or 
Muulin);  od  his  book,  lias  been  a  favorite  sabjcci  with 
the  Spanish  poiaters.     Murillo  —  who,  it  miut  be  n>- 
membercd,  waa  psrtiunlarl;  patroniied  by  the  Capnch 
ofSovilla  —  baa  painted  it  nine  times,  with  va  " 
oae  of  those  is  in  possessloa  nf  Mr.  Munro ; 
very  heantiral,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery. 

In  the  lolleclion  of  Lord  Shrewsbury  (Allon  Towt 
there  is  a  remarkable  picture  of  thia  subject  attribntt 
to  that  CKtraorditinry  man  AIobko  Cbbo, 
BUBtidna  in  his  arms  the  Infant  Christ,  whom  the  Vir^ 
above,  appears  to  have  jnst  relinquished,  and  holds  hi 
veil  extended  as  if  to  resume  her  divine  Child.  The 
bead  of  Antony  is  rather  vulgar,  but  most  expreaaivB ; 
the  Child  most  admirably  painted,  looking  up,  as  if 
hall-lnghtened,  to  hia  mother.  This  is  one  of  the  flnelt 
pictures  of  the  Bpaniali  school  now  in  England,  bnt  I) 
is  100  dramatic  in  the  sentiment  and  treatment  It 
considered  us  a  religions  picture- 


Si.    BONAVENTCRi. 
Ilor.      Ourllnsl,  aud  Blstiop  ol 


8T.  BONA  VENTURA.  317 

It  is  regarded  as  one  of  tbe  great  luminariea 
ff  thaRomsn  Catholic  Chiircli.  Ho  v/an  born  at  Bn^ar 
im  io  ToBcany,  in  the  year  123t,  and  baptLuul  by  Che 
nune  of  Oiovanni  Fidanga.  la  hU  infancy  he  had  a 
dangerous  illoosB,  in  which  his  life  was  despaired  of. 
His  mother,  in  the  exlramily  of  her  grief,  laid  her  child 
at  the  IfOi  of  8t.  Francis,  beseeching  him  to  intermde 
with  his  prayera  for  the  life  of  her  son :  the  child  rc- 
coTored.  It  ia  ralated.  that  when  St.  Francin  saw  him 
fas  exclaimed,  "  O  huona  venlurHi !  "  and  hence  the 
mother,  tn  a  traiiaport  of  gratitnde.  dedicated  her  child 
to  Ood  by  the  name  of  Bonavcntnra.  She  brought 
him  op  in  sentimetits  of  ontboeiastic  piety;  and  while 
he  Horprised  hia  masters  by  the  progress  ho  made  in 
hig  gtndics,  she  langhc  him  tliai  ail  his  powera,  all  his 
■cqniremeDts,  itnd  all  his  facoltics  of  head  and  heart, 
wow  absolutely  dedicated  to  the  Dirino  Borvice.  In 
1243,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  ha  took  the  habit  of  St. 
Francis,  and  went  to  Paris  to  complete  his  cheulogical 
■Indies.  Within  a  few  years  ho  became  ralebrated  as 
<me  of  the  greatest  teachers  and  writers  in  the  Cbarcb. 
Ho  was  remarkable  at  tho  samo  time  for  the  pracoca 
of  all  the  virtues  enjoined  by  liis  Order,  preadied  to 
the  people,  attended  the  sick,  and  did  not  shrink  irom 
the  lowliest  ministering  to  the  poor.  His  humility  was 
■0  great  tliaC  lie  scarcely  dared  to  present  himself  to 
receive  the  sacrament,  deeming  himself  nnwonhy ;  and, 
according  to  the  legend,  in  recompense  of  his  humility, 
the  Host  was  presented  to  him  by  the  hand  of  an  angel. 
While  at  Paris  he  was  greatly  honored  by  Louis  IX. 
(St.  Loius),  and  consulted  by  him  on  many  occasions. 
In  the  year  1256  ho  was  chosen  General  of  the  Francis- 
can Order,  at  the  age  of  thirty-five.  At  that  time  the 
community  was  dietmcteil  by  dissensions  between  those 
of  the  fiiars  wbo  insisted  apon  ihc  inflexible  soveritj 
of  the  original  mle,  and  those  who  wished  Io  introduce 
Innovations.  By  his  mildncEs  and  his  eloquence  he 
BQCcseded  in  restoring  bannooy.  Pope  Clement  IV., 
in  1365,  appointed  him  archbishop  of  York ;  Bonvrm- 


^^^^H 

^V        3ig    LEGENDS  or  TBE  UONABTIC  ORDEI^^^^k 

^^^        raoKb  ill  liu  owu  touiiuy.     A  few  years  oficrwad^^^^H 

^^1        Ongury  X.  mbad  bim  M  thu  digiiiij  of  cardimd.  i^^^H 

^^H      bUh^  of  Albano,  and  sent  two  napuoB  to  meet  bin^^^^H 

^^M     the  road  witli  the  ensignc  of  hit  now  digDitjr.     Tk^^^H 

^^1      fmai  him  in  Iho  gsrdou  of  a  litUu  cotivcat  of  hi»  Q^^^H 

^■^      dir.  Dear  Floraix^  at  tliat  momeat  aogaged  in  waaU^^^H 

Iho  pUto  from  which  he  imd  Jt<^t  dined :  ho  desired  iM^^H 

to  hang  the  canlioal's  bat  ou  the  boagh  of  a  tree  tild^^^H 

could  lako  it  iu  his  bonds.     Hence,  ia  pinnrai  of  l^j^^^H 

Uiu  uanlinal's  hat  is  oftou  wen  hanging  on  the  boi^^^^^| 

^_       of  a  tree.     At  the  gmA  coaooil  held  in  the  <itj^l^^M 

^^H      and  Latin  Churches,  St.  BontLvnntora  was  one  of.'^^^^^l 

^^K      and  the  lirec  who  barangoed  tha  asaemblj.    Hs  ^PV^^^^H 
^^H      to  have  ocicd  a«  the  Pope's  Bocntai?.     The  fad^^^^^H 
^^H      wliich  he  DadEment  during  this  coundl  pot  an  en£^^^^H 
^H     bis  lifa  :  before  it  was  di£«>lved,  he  was  seized  wiO^^^H 
^■^      ferer,  of  which  he  died  at  the  age  of  tili;-tbree,  am)  I^^^H 
f                 buried  at  Lyons  in  the  church  of  tlie  Frandscang ;  ^^^^| 

his  sbritie  and  threw  his  ashes  mV>  the  nver  Sa«^^^| 

in  the  year  Uea.                                                        ^^^^H 

St.  Clara.     Ia  every  picture  I  have  seen  he  ia  b«>^^^^| 
^^_          leas,  and  his  face,  though  often  worn  and  rooftgre  wiS^^^^^ 
^^L        fasting  and  contemjjlalion,  is  not  marked  by  the  lines              ' 
^^H        of  age.*     He  is  sometimca  reprcBCQiud  wearing  the  cope 

^H             •  The  flenn  dI  ono  of  Uie  Doclon  of  ihe  Cbfltoh  inUia"0«p- 
peUB  dl  e.  LacEniu,"  iu  Die  Vutioiu,  piklDUM  by  Aogellco  for 
NicbolaiT.,— abeanllfm,Blnipld,nia]C8tlo  flgnr*,  wUh  no  iiged 
Md  haul  And  rerf  long  pirtcd  h»rd,  the  inrdloslli  hut  at  lilii 
IBeU  —  npwMnta,  I  Uiink,  ai.  jErome,  one  n(  flic  "Four  great                  , 

^■^        ■jMim  or  MdeBiuUctl  donniliHi  prctBleot  from  Iha  chlrUinnli 

^H        loihe  ^Usmlh  csDtarj.     Ttie  B|»re  to  wnalnl,  luBilied  St                   1 

ST.  BONAVENTURA. 


3x9 


4>yer  the  gray  habit  of  his  Order,  with  the  mitre  on  his 
head  as  bishop  of  Albano,  and  the  cardinal's  hat  lying 
at  his  feet  or  suspended  on  the  branch  of  a  tree  behind 
him.  Sometimes  he  wears  the  simple  Franciscan  habit, 
and  carries  the  pix  or  the  sacramental  cup  in  his  hand, 
or  it  is  borne  by  an  angel ;  and,  occasionally,  we  find 
him  in  the  full  costume  of  a  cardinal  (the  crimson  robes 
and  the  crimson  hat),  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  signifi- 
cant of  his  great  learning.  When  grouped  with  St. 
Francis,  —  the  superior  saint,  —  he  is,  in  every  instance 
I  can  remember,  a  simple  Franciscan  Iriar,  distinguished 
by  the  cardinal's  hat  at  his  feet,  or  the  sacramental  cup 
in  his  hand,  or  the  angel  presenting  the  Host.  In  the 
great  picture  by  Crivelli  (coll.  of  Lord  Ward),  the  Host, 
or  sacramental  wafer,  is  seen  above  his  head,  as  if 
descending  from  heaven. 

According  to  a  Spanish  legend,  St.  Bonaventnra, 
after  his  death,  returned  to  the  earth  for  three  days  to 
complete  his  great  work,  the  Life  of  St.  Francis.  He 
is  thus  represented  in  a  very  extraordinary  picture 
attributed  to  Murillo  (Louvre,  Sp.  Gal.) ;  he  is  seated 
in  a  chair,  wearing  his  doctor's  cap  and  gown,  with  a 
pen  in  his  hand,  and  a  most  ghastly,  lifeless  expression 
of  countenance.  Mr.  Stirling  doubts  the  authenticity 
of  this  picture,  but  it  is  very  striking. 

"  St.  Bonaventura  receiving  the  Sacrament  from  the 
hand  of  an  Angel "  was  painted  by  Van  Dyck  for  the 

Bonanenturay  but  1x17  impression,  wlien  I  saw  these  frescos  and 
examined  them  with  a  good  glass,  was,  that  the  letters  underneath 
are  comparatively  modern.  We  find  in  their  proper  places  the 
other  three  doctors,  St.  Augustine,  St.  Ambrose,  and  St.  Gregory : 
there  was  no  reason  for  substituting  St.  Bonaventura  for  the  great- 
est of  all,  St  Jerome ;  besides  that  Bonaventura  died  at  the  age  of 
fifty-three,  is  uniformly  beardless,  and  ought  to  wear  the  Francis- 
can habit  and  cord,  which  distinguish  him  fh>m  St  Jerome.  This 
figure  has  lately  been  engraved  in  an  exquisite  style  by  Mr.  Oru- 
ner  for  the  Arundel  Society  ;  and  I  suggest  these  oonsiderati<m8 
because  it  seems  of  some  consequence  that  the  proper  traditional 
^rpe  of  a  saint  so  important  as  Bonaventura  should  not  be  Uable 
to  miieoaoeptioD. 


Ijo  tJSOJOfDB  OF  THE  MOXASTIC  ORDEl 
FhuHiKaiM  M  Antwwp.     It  bas  been  cobtmIjJ 


St.   Besmardiho  < 


,    FODHDBB   or   1 


Tmfl  «nmt  was  barn  at  Masu,  a  little  town  In  fte 
Sionow!  lerriKwy,  in  13B0.  He  vat  of  ihe  aoblo  family 
of  Alliizeschi ;  and,  after  hiB  mother's  ilvath,  was  edu- 
mlcd  b;  bia  anut,  Diana  dcgli  Albizeschi.  lo  whom  ho 
appear!  lo  liavo  owed  the  development  of  hia  talenu.  as 
wdl  as  tliM  ostremepnritjof  mindand  manocre  which 
distiDgnishcd  his  youthliil  years.  Be  wan  extremely 
bountiful  and  grantful  in  penon ;  but  so  modeet,  and, 
at  iJib  eiimc  time,  so  di^ilied,  that  his  presence  alone 
was  a  restraint  on  the  libertinu  oinvcrSBtion  of  his 
companions.  —  as  the  mere  appearannt  of  the  youtiiful 
Calo  oiorawed  the  profligate  BomBW  Sn  tbe  midst  of 
one  of  their  festivals. 

At  the  ag;e  of  seventeen  he  entered  a  confraternity 
devoted  to  the  caie  of  the  poor  and  to  llie  sick  in  the 
bospitals.  Soon  afterwards  a  pestiteoce  broke  oat  at 
Siena,  which  carried  off  a  )px^t  nnmbcr  of  the  inhabi- 
lanta,  and,  amongst  the  rest,  many  of  the  ministering 
priests,  as  well  ns  the  physicians,  lell  victims  lo  the 
pestilonco.  Bemnrdino,  assisled  by  twelve  yonng  men 
lilie  himself,  andertooh  the  whole  care  of  tbe  plague 
hospital,  and  for  font  moniha  attended  night  and  day : 
during  this  time  it  pleased  God  to  preserve  him  Irom 
the  contagion,  bot  tjs  fktigacs  bronght  on  a.  deUcacy 
of  health  from  which  ho  never  reravered. 

At  the  ago  of  twenty-three  he  look  the  habit  of  St. 
Francis,  and  became  one  of  the  moit  celebrated  and 
eloiliient  preachers  of  his  Order.  Hia  ministry  was  not 
coolined  to  hia  owo  country ;  lie  preached  Irom  one  end 
of  Italy  lo  the  other,  and  published  a  great  number 
of  Hermons  and  ireatiseg  of  piety,  which  have  a  high 
is  own  Charch.     Of  the  wonderful  sod- 


m  of  Ub  preaching',  many  striking  anacilotes  are  m- 
lateil.  Hia  hearers  were  not  only  foe  tlia  moment 
afibcled  ani  mcltod  into  tears,  but  in  many  inetannes 
a  pennanetit  regeneration  of  heart  and  [ik  seemed  la 
have  taken  place  throngti  his  influence.  Tboeo  who  hod 
deTmadeil,  mude  restilatioo ;  those  who  owed  money, 
hnatenvd  to  pay  their  debtx ;  thoao  who  hojl  committed 
injtistice,  were  eager  to  repair  it.  Enemies  were  seen 
lo  embrace  each  other  in  his  presence  ;  gamblers  flan^ 
away  their  cards;  the  wotnen  fnC  otf  thoir  hair,  and 
threw  down  their  jewels  at  hia  fuet:  wherever  he  came, 
he  preached  peace ;  and  the  cities  of  Tuscany,  then  dis- 
tracted by  Actions,  wore  by  bis  exhortations  reconciled 
and  tlanquitlized,  at  least  for  a  time.  Above  ell,  he  set 
himself  to  heal,  as  br  aa  he  could,  the  mutual  fury  of 
the  Gnelphs  and  Ghibellines,  who,  at  that  period,  were 
tearing  Italy  to  pieces- 
He  steadily  refused  to  accept  of  aoy  eccleaiaslical 
honors;  the  bishopric  of  Siena,  that  of  Forrara,  and 
that  of  Urbino,  were  offered  to  Iiim  iu  vaiu. 

Philip  Visconti,  date  of  Milan,  one  of  the  tyrants 
of  that  day,  took  offence  at  certain  things  that  ho  had 
spoken  in  hia  sermona  against  the  oppressions  which 
he  exercised.  The  duke  tlirealencd  tuiti;  and,  finding 
this  in  Tain,  be  thought  to  soften  him  by  the  present  of 
a  hundred  g;old  dneacs,  which  he  sent  lo  him  in  a  silror 
dish.  ThH  saint  of  couiHH  declined  the  present ;  but  as 
the  messengers  insisted,  and  arorrud  that  they  dared 
not  take  it  back,  bo  took  it  from  their  hands,  and, 
desiring  them  to  follow  him,  he  repaireil  to  the  public 
prison  and  laid  out  the  whole  iu  releasii^  the  pour 
deblocB. 

He  was  the  founder  of  a  reformed  Order  of  Franda- 
cans,  atjled  in  Italy  Osam.unfi,  in  Fran™  Peres  ou 
frtra  tie  rObaennaw,  hecauae  they  obioxv/i  the  original 
rule  as  l^d  down  hy  St.  Francis,  went  barefoot  and 
professed  absolute  poverty.  This  Order  became  very 
popular. 

ThiB  health  of  St.  Bemardiuo,  always  delicate,  snf 


j)S  LEGENDB  OF  TBK  lUOKASTtC  OBDBSB. 

hreil  fhiin  (he  hii|:ncs  of  bit  mitaicm  and  the  sovere 
BbMinonro  to  which  he  Jiwl  i-uiKlemnod  Utnwilf,  Wliilo 
n  the  kinKdom  orNsplcs,  be  wnk  under  his 
ij  heiDK  taken  ill  at  AqiiiJa,  in  l:heAbnizzi,'he 
dwK  expired,  and  ihern  bis  rcmiupi  are  preserved  in 
tbe  Cbureh  of  Sun  Froncoflio,  within  a  abrine  of  silver. 
He  was  >'aiioni»)d  Ij  Pope  Kicholu  V.  in  1460 :  and 
them  stc  few  louncs  in  tbe  enlcndor  who  liavc  mcriled 
thai  honor  ao  well ;  —  none  better,  perhaps,  than  this 
exemplary  atid  exwlkni  friar.  He  is  venermed  throngb- 
OQi  iho  whole  of  Italy,  but  more  paiticiilHrlf  in  liis  na- 
tive place,  Siena. 

It  ii  related  of  Son  Bentardino,  that  when  preaching 
be  WW  accustomed  to  liold  in  hia  himd  a  tablet,  on 
wbidi  was  carved,  withio  a  circle  of  golden  rays,  the 
nonte  of  Jeans.  A  certain  man,  who  had  gmoed  hia 
living  by  the  mnnnfecturo  of  cards  and  dice,  went  to 
Mm,  and  repreaonled  to  hini  tlmt,  in  coneoqaenre  uf 
to  reformation  of  manners,  gnmbljng  hail  ^one  out  uf 
fasliion,  and  be  waJ  redaccd  to  beggary.  Tbe  siunl 
deaircd  him  to  exercise  his  Inj^nuity  in  carving  taUcis 
of  the  some  kind  aa  ilutt  wbicb  he  held  in  his  hand,  and 
»  sell  tbem  to  the  people.  A  pecnliar  sanctity  was 
aoon  attached  to  iheae  memorials ;  the  desire  to  pos- 
sess them  became  general;  and  the  man,  who  by  the 
mann&ictni«  of  gaming-carda  cotild  scarcely  k«ep  him- 
self above  want,  by  the  fabrication  of  these  tablets 
realized  a  fortune.  HctifC  in  tbe  dcvolJonBl  fignrea 
of  St.  Bemoidino  bu  is  usually  holding  one  of  these 
Inlets,  the  t.  S.  &.  encircled  with  rays,  iu  bia  hand. 

Another  attribute  is  tbe  Monln-di-PiA,  a  little  green 
hill  composed  of  three  mounds,  and  on  the  top  eithcra 
cross,  or  a  atandnrd  on  which  is  the  figure  of  the  dead 
Saviour,  usually  called  io  Italy  a  Pietii.  St.  Bernard- 
ino IB  said  to  have  been  the  founder  of  the  eharilBblc 
initrituiions  still  called  in  Franca  Mmta-di^Pieii,  orig- 
inally for  (Jte  purpose  of  lending  to  tbe  very  poor  small 
sums  on  trifling  pledges,  —  what  vie  should  uow  call  a 
ban  Bodelf,  — and  which  in  their  comincitcemcntwere 


ST.  smyjJiDhvo  OF  s/i:.va. 


333 


imrelv  ilisinWrealcrl  and  beocfiual.  In  crcrj(:it;  whicb 
fas  risited  us  a  preacher,  he  fotiniled  a  Moule^i-Fielk ; 
and  bcrorc  hia  dootli  tb(Me  inslitnlionH  had  spread  all 
over  Ilaly  acd  throagh  a  great  fioit  of  France.* 

Tbo  beat  duroliouat  Gi^ures  of  8c.  BerauTdina  have  a 
general  resemblance  to  eavll  other,  which  shows  them 
to  lure  been  [)aiutcd  from  some  known  origiaal ;  prob- 
ably the  contemporaij  pittorB  by  Pielro  di  GiUTanni. 
(Acad.  Sieoa. )  Be  in  always  beardlesa ;  hia  iignre  call, 
■lender,  and  emaciated ;  bia  foataraa  deliuitit  and  rogn- 
lar,  bat  boggard  and  worn  ;  liia  couotenance  mild  and 
melaocholj:  be  cannea  in  hia  bond  either  the  tjiblot 
with  the  name  of  Jesus,  wbldt  is  the  common  aturihuto ; 
or  the  MoDt&di-Fietb. 

In  sculpture,  the  most  beautiful  repieaeutation  of  St. 
Beroardino  is  thai  of  Agoatino  delta  Bobbia,  a  coloaaal 
flgaie  in  high  mbcf  On  the  facade  of  tbe  chapel  of  Che 
CoNfiaXenuTa  di  Sim  BemiinHno  at  Perugia.  Around 
bim  is  a  gbry  of  eight  angels,  who  aru  Gounding  Ida 
piHise  on  Tfmons  inaCrumenUj  of  music  ;  and  the  rest 
of  the  facade  is  covered  with  elaborate  small  baa-roIiclB 
from  hia  lite  and  miracles. 

In  the  separate  subjects  from  his  life  which  are  to  bo 

"/fMBTclpim- 


m  BuniHrdtiiofi,  uid  a 


(ud  Uu  Mgy)  |>ni)ieily  beloDgB. 


3J4  LKGENOS  OF  TtlK  MOXASTtC 

tnet  wllh  in  tlu  Pranciiiaui  cbun^hca,  be  is  represented 
pnoching  Id  a  niuncniiu  andiciuT,  who  Ikioa  wji}i 
eai^  ujituiiiBil  tuxa,  as  id  a  Due  old  fruseo  in  tbe  Bon 
Fnncewo  at  Pcrngia ;  or  he  is  rtsloring  a  f  oang  ^rl 
■o  life  who  had  cbokod  bcnelT  bj  (waUowing  a  bone  ; 
■1  in  a  picture  by  Pesellino,  eograred  in  Roasini'H 
work.     (■•Storin  delhi  Pittm*.") 

The  be«t  series  of  pictnrei  Irom  his  life  ia  in  bis 
chapel  in  the  Aia-Celi  U  KomB,  jutinted  by  Bernardino 
Pinloricchio,  who  has  put  forth  his  best  powers  to  do 
honor  to  his  patron  wnt :  — 

1 .  Sl  Bernardino  afsomea  ihe  Franciscan  babil.  2. 
Be  pnuicbea,  Btanding  on  ■  liitlc  green  hillock ;  the 
attitude  and  expression  admirable  ;  thejr  are  thoec  of  a 
preacher,  not  an  orator.  3.  He  bebolds  the  crudded 
Bavionr  in  a  vision.  4.  He  is  seen  stadjing  tbe  Seiip- 
tures  in  the  solitade  of  Colombiere,  near  Siena.  5. 
Ho  dies,  and  is  laid  on  bis  bier;  the  sick,  the  maimed, 
tbe  blind,  gathcF  aronnd  it  to  be  bealed  by  toucliing  bis 
remains  ;  a  mother  lays  down  ber  dead  cbiid,  and 
geema  to  uppcal  to  the  dead  saint  to  restore  it.  6.  Ilia 
glorificatioD  :  he  appears  in  PunidiBe,  standing  betweca 
St.  Louie  of  Toolouso  and  St.  Antony  of  Padua. 

A  very  remarkable  series  is  Ibai  by  Pesellino,  which 
I  rccolleel  to  have  seen  with  interest  in  the  sncristy  of 
Son  Francesco  ax  Femgia ;  but  bad  not  time  to  make 
a  note  of  tba  separate  subjects,  eight  in  number. 


have  not  found  this  legend  in  any  lifb  of 
to  which  I  hare  had  access. 


ST.  ELIZABETH  OF  BVNGARY. 
St.  Elizabeth  or  HmroAiir, 


CbTlflto  tuDeu  dapoumtL 
Etrluaque  Bponsalla, 
SLmul  KiTuu  lllibaU  g 
Bamn  nagnenH  fide  pli. 


m  Bretrf»r)F,friii(tit 


As  St.  Cl&ra  wae  tiie  tradidonat  type  of  fsmala 
pietj,  ber  contenporarj,  St.  Elizabelli,  became  tbe  tm- 
ditional  type  of  female  charity.  Of  aU  the  glorified  — 
TictiEna  must  I  call  them  ?  or  maityis  1  —  <rf  that  ter- 
rible bat  poetical  boaticism  of  the  thirteenth  centoiy, 
she  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable ;  and  of  tbe  aact«d 
kgends  of  Che  Middle  Ages,  hen  la  one  of  the  moat 
inierestiog  and  most  iiutnictive.  I  call  It  a  ^fgaid, 
because,  though  in  all  the  material  facts  perfectly  au- 
theatic,  aad,  indeed,  forming  a  part  of  the  hbtoiy  of 
her  country,  there  is  in  it  juat  that  aprinkling  of  the 
marvellooa  and  tbe  ^dOil  which  has  served  to  ideal- 
ize her  character  and  convert  into  a  poem  the  story  of 

That  short,  *ad  life,  crowded  as  it  was  outwardly 


j]4  LKQKNDS  OF  TUB  SIO-VjiSTIC  -2 

wltJi  iirikini;!  contnuM  kuiI  viiiminiiW  of  fortune,  wu 
yet  more  rail  —  GUed  even  in  overflowbg —  wiili  ua- 
Meu,  uubold  jojs  nnd  sorrows  ;  with  puigi  anil  elrug- 
glvH,  BDch  as  tiien  haunted  the  anTtatoniag  minds  of 
womoD,  diMracted  botwoca  tlicir  cartlily  duties  and 
ofTixtiotiB  and  ihcir  heareawBril  a«pirulionB,  —  as  if  this 
world  were  not  God'e  world  and  his  care,  no  less  than 
tliM  other  worhl  I  The  Morj  of  St.  Glizabelb,  and 
thoie  graceful  effigiea  which  place  her  berure  ue,  oflering 
up  her  ToscB,  or  with  bet  likir  crowned  head  beoijing 
over  some  ghastly  pcreooilication  of  pain  and  tnisoiy, 
wilt  bo  regarded  witJi  diflereui  ieelings  according  lo  the 
point  from  which  ibey  ara  viewed.  For  some  will 
tliinti  more  of  the  gloiy  of  the  saint ;  Dthura,  more  of 
tlui  trials  of  the  woman  i  some  will  look  ujiou  her  with 
levcreiice  and  dcvoiion  ns  bIcsEed  m  bet  charities,  and 
not  less  blessed  in  her  Bclf^acrifii'e ;  otbere,  with  a  end 
hearl'moving  pity,  as  bewildered  in  bcr  conscience  and 
mistaken  in  her  laiih  :  —  but  none,  1  tliiak,  whalc'cr 
be  their  opinions,  cau  read  the  chronicle  of  bcr  life 
without  emotion.* 

In  the  year  1207,  Andreas  IL  was  King  of  Hungarj-; 
and  Herman,  of  poetical  renown,  the  patron  of  the 
MioDcsingers,  wne  Landgrave  of  Thuringia,  aud  held 
his  court  in  tba  castio  of  the  Wattbarg-. 

lu  that  year  the  Queen  of  Hungary  hrDogbt  forth  a 
dauglilcr,  whoso  birth  was  announeed  by  nianj  liioseings 
to  her  couQtTT  and  her  kindred ;  for  the  wars  wbicli 
had  didlracted  Hangary  ceased,  and  peafo  and  good- 
will reigned,  at  least  for  a  time  ;  the  harvests  had  nerer 
been  so  abundant,  crime,  iiyaatice,  and  violence  had 
Qevei  been  bo  unfreguont,  as  in  that  fbrtnnuo  year. 


of  at.  xiintiietb  ] 


8T.  ELIZABETH  OF  BUNGART.        337 

Even  in  her  cradle  ths  young  Elisabeth  showed  wfB- 
cknttj  that  she  was  the  especial  fkTorite  of  Heaven. 
She  was  never  known  10  weep  from  childiih  petalince ; 
the  lirst  words  she  distinctly  uttered  were  tbose  of 
prayer ;  at  three  yeara  old  she  was  known  10  give  away 
ber  toys,  and  take  off  her  rich  dresses  to  l>estow  them. 
on  the  poor;  and  all  the  land  rqjoiced  in  her  early 
wisdom,  goodness,  and  radiant  beanty. 

These  ihings  being  told  to  HcnnaD  of  Thniinjpa  by 
the  poets  and  wise  men  who  visited  his  conrt,  he  waa 
filled  with  wonder,  and  exclaimed,  "  Wonld  to  Ood 
that  this  loir  chihl  might  become  the  wife  of  my  soa  I " 
and  therenpon  he  resolved  to  send  an  embassy  (o  tha 
King  of  Hungary,  to  ask  the  yoang  prioress  ia  mar- 
riage for  his  son,  Prince  Lonia.  He  selected  as  his 
messeogeiB  tho  Coast  Reiabard  of  Mnblberg,  Walter 
de  Varila,  his  seneschal,  and  the  noble  widow,  Berth* 
of  Beindelebeu,  attended  by  a  train  of  knights  and  la- 
dies, bearing  rich  presents.  They  were  hospitably  and 
favorably  rec^ved  by  the  King  of  Hungary  and  bia 
queen  Gertrude,  and  returned  to  WBrtbnrg  with  the 
little  princess,  who  was  then  four  jeors  old.  The  king, 
ber  father,  bestowed  on  her  a  cradle  and  a  bath,  each  of 
pure  ulver  and  of  wondrooa  workmanship ;  and  silken 
robes  curiously  embroidered  with  gold,  and  twelve  no- 
ble mudens  to  attead  upon  her.  He  also  loaded  the 
ambassadors  with  gifls.  He  sent  to  the  landgrave  and 
bis  wife  Sophia  magnificent  presents,  —  stn&,  and  jew- 
els, and  horses  richly  caparisoned,  and  many  precious 
things  which  he  had  obtained  through  his  intercoursa 
with  ConstonttDople  and  the  East,  the  like  of  wbicb  had 
never  before  been  seen  in  Western  Oermanj ;  and  it  is 
recorded  that,  whereas  the  ambassadors  hod  set  off  on 
their  mission  with  two  b«^ag»-wagon8,  they  rebimed 
with  thirteen. 

WboD  the  Princess  li^lizaheth  arrived  at  the  castle  of 
the  Wartbui^  at  Eisenach,  she  wm  received  with  infl- 
nite  rqoidngs,  and  the  next  day  tiae  was  solemnly  be- 
trothed to  ^e  jonog  Prince  Loidi ;  and  the  two  cbil- 


I 


Ijl  LeGBNDB  OF  TBS  MQXABTIC  ORDBi 

dren  b«Dg  Iwd  in  tbe  same  cnulle,  the;  smiled  g 
•tretrhed  oqi  ihcir  littlo  amis  to  each  other,  »  ' "  ' 
pt«m«l  the  Lnad^rrove  Ucraian  uid  the  lAndgrati 
Hopbia ;  and  all  the  iiuliea,  knights,  aod  miiutrels  n 
wen  present  regarded  it  as  an  omen  of  a  tileased  M 
h«pp7  Diairiape. 

From  this  time  the  children  were  not  sepai-atcd ; 
^revr  up  togellier,  and  everf  da?  they  lored  each  other 
more  aiid  more.  Tliej  called  each  other  bj  the  teodtr 
nod  bmiliar  names  of  brother  and  gister;  but  Loais 
know  perfertlj  tbe  diflBrtMit«  between  bis  relatianahip 
with  Blitabeth  and  with  his  own  Bieter  Agnee,  and  lie 
verywraa  perceived  that  hia  Eliuibeth  was  quite  unlike 
all  the  other  chltdren  in  tbe  court,  and  exercised  over 
ihem  some  eximordlnBrj  ascendency:  all  her  infant 
thoughts  seemed  centred  in  heavenlj  things;  her  verj 
■porta  were  heavenly,  as  though  the  angels  were  her 
playmates ;  but  charilj,  and  eompnsBion  for  tbe  eufiering 
poor,  formed,  so  lo  spoak,  the  slaplo  of  her  life.  Every- 
thing that  was  given  to  her  she  gave  away ;  and  she 
collected  what  remained  fixim  the  table,  and  saved  from 
her  own  rcpasta  every  scrap  of  food,  which  she  carried 
in  a  basket  to  the  poor  of  Eisenach,  the  children  of  the 
poor  bt-'ing  mom  especially  her  care. 

Ab  long  aa  her  noble  fttbcr-io-law  the  Landgrave 
Herman  was  alive,  no  one  dared  to  opposo  the  young 
Elizabeth  in  her  exertdsea  either  of  devotion  or  charily, 
though  both  hod  excited  some  feelings  of  diBspprohalion 
and  jealousy  io  tbe  court ;  even  her  betrothed,  hnaband 
Looia,  influenced  by  tlioae  around  him,  begnn  to  regard 
her  as  one  destined  to  be  tbe  bride  of  Heaven  rather 
than  hia  own.  When  ahe  was  aboat  nine  years  olil, 
and  Lonia  about  aixteen,  the  landgrave  died ;  and  Eliza- 
beth, having  lost  in  him  her  father  and  proloclor,  l*- 
rtune,  with  all  her  saitttl;  gifts  and  graces,  a  forlorn 
Btranger  in  her  adopted  homo.  Louis  had  anccK^cd 
his  father,  but  remained  nnder  tbe  tutelage  of  hie  mother. 
The  Landgraviao,  Sophia,  disliked  the  retiring  charocier 
Df  her  danghier-in-law ;  the  princess  Agnes  openly  do' 


ST.  ELIZABETH  OF  BUNGABF. 


339 


rided  her ;  aad  the  oClier  ladEes  of  the  coart  treatsd  her 
with  neglect. 

On  the  occasioa  of  some  great  reItB;toiu  feetivtJ,  tha 
luadgmvine  carried  the  two  jouog  princesses  to  the 
Charch  of  St.  Cathetine  at  Eiieimch.  They  were  at- 
tired, accDrding  to  the  cnstom  of  the  time,  in  their 
habits  of  ccremonj,  wearing  long  embroidered  mantles, 
their  hair  cast  loose  over  [heir  shonldcrs  ;  golden  coro- 
nets on  their  heads,  and  bracelets  on  (heir  arms.  Oa 
entering  the  church  thcj  knelt  down  before  the  cmcifls ; 
Ehz^eth,  on  raising  her  eyes  Co  (he  image  of  the  dying 
Saviour,  was  etrnck  with  an  irresistible  reverence,  and 
instinctivety  took  o<f  her  golden  crown,  placing  it  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross.  She  then  meekly  coQtinaed  her 
prayer.  The  lanilgravine  whisperod  bitter  reproaches, 
and  ordered  her  to  replace  her  crown.  EliMbelh,  weep- 
ing, replied:  "Dear  lady  mother,  reproach  me  itot! 
Here  I  behold  the  merciful  Jesos,  who  died  for  me, 
wearing  his  crown  of  ihoms  ;  how  can  I  wear  in  His 
presence  this  crown  of  gold  and  gems  ?  m^  crown  is  a 
mockery  of  5u .' "  Then,  covering  her  lace  with  her 
long  mantle,  she  held  her  peace,  and  conCiaued  (o  pray 
fervently.  Her  mother  and  sister,  seeing  the  eyes  of 
tim  people  fixed  on  them,  were  obliged  also  to  take  off 
Iheir  crowns  and  cover  their  faces ;  "  which  they  mis- 
liked  greatly,"  adds  the  chronicle.  They  were  more 
angry  than  ever  with  Elizabeth ;  and  the  whole  caait, 
perceiving  her  diEgrace,  failed  not  to  treat  her  with 
contumely,  and  to  jeer  at  what  they  called  her  pretended 
piety ;  so  that  her  life  was  made  bitter  to  her  even  in 
tier  yonog  days.  She  endured  all  with  unvarying 
gentleness.  The  hardest  (rial  of  her  patience  was  when 
the  princess  Agnes  was  wont  to  tell  her,  in  a  mocking 
lone,  that  "her  brother  Lonis  would  never  marry  such 
a  Beguine,  but  would  send  her  back  to  Hungary  to  her 
&ther."  This  also  EUz^ielh  bore  in  silence :  she  woold 
go  to  her  chamber  and  weep  awhile ;  then,  drying  bel 
lean,  she  woald  take  np  her  alnu-buket  and  go  to  visit 
Ihe  poor  children  of  whom  sbe  bad  made  fiiendt  and 


)4<>  LEGESOa  OF  THE  MO.VASTIC  OJ 

Tomptoiow,  Mill  in  Leaching  them  aod  taressing  tl 
■bo  ibuad  comfon. 

IS  oliaarfing  her  and  w 
r  dvpuRinpiit  dihIct  tbo  conlempnioug  ireatineDt  of 
:cr,  and  of  llioso  wbo  thoogbl  Id  do 
ibcTD  K  plcwnrc  b/  atudioiul;  neglcciing  or  publidj 
tnaulling  the  object  of  ibeir  icom.  Hs  did  not  opeslj 
allow  Iwr  Huj  «tMniion ;  be  bad  some  doubts  whelber 
«ho  wu  not  loo  far  >I)otb  bim  in  her  an»lere  jet  gentle 
piety.  But  often  vhcD  ibe  luflfand  frum  tlie  cunlumel; 
of  ollien  he  would  secrcllj  comfon  her  witb  kindest 
words,  and  dry  up  her  teara.  And  when  he  relumed 
liome  alter  an  abeence,  be  wat  accusiomed  to  bring  her 
le  lillle  gift  which  he  had  purchased  for  her,  either  a 
nxarj  of  coiai,  or  a  Ultle  silver  cmcilix,  or  a  cliaio,  or 
a  golden  pin,  or  a  parse,  or  a  knife.  And  when  abe 
ran  out  w  meet  him  joyfully,  ho  would  take  her  in  his 
18  and  kiss  her  rij^ht  heartilj.  And  thus  sbe  f(rew 
op  to  maidenhood,  looking  to  liim,  and  only  to  him,  for 
all  her  earthly  comfort;  trueting  and  loving  bim  next 
to  ber  Heavenly  Father,  to  whom  eho  prayed  hourly  for 
his  well-being,  anil  that  his  heart  might  not  be  turocd 
away  from  her,  for  sbe  knew  that  every  earthly  influence 
was  employed  to  make  him  tidae  to  her  and  to  liia  early 

It  happened,  on  one  occasion,  that  Louis  went  on  a 
long  hunting  oxcuwioo  with  some  neighboring  ]irincoB, 
and  was  ho  much  occnpieii  by  hie  guests,  ihnt,  when  he 
returned,  he  brought  not  his  accDstomcd  gift,  nor  did  he 
islulQ  her  as  usual.  The  courtiers,  aud  those  wbo  were 
the  enamiea  of  Eliznbeth,  marked  Ibis  well ;  ulie  saw 
their  cruel  joy,  and  her  heart  sank  with  apprehension. 
She  had  hitherto  kept  silence,  but  now,  in  the  bitterness 
of  ber  grief,  she  threw  herself  on  her  old  friend,  Walthor 
de  Taiila,  who  hod  brought  her  an  infant  from  Hun- 
gary, who  liad  often  nursed  her  in  his  anna,  and  who 
loved  her  as  his  own  child.  A  fow  days  afterwards,  aa 
he  attended  the  landgrsve  to  (be  chase,  be  look  6 
pppOTtimity  to  ask  him  wliai  were 


^^    tell  1 


ETH   OP  HUNGARY. 

thn  Lady  Elizabelli;  "For,"  ssid  he,  "it  a 
Ihonghc  hy  many  that  you  love  lier  not,  and  that  yoa 
will  Bond  her  back  to  lier  fitthor."  On  hearirn;  thtso 
words,  Louis,  who  bod  beeu  lyiug  on  tho  ground  lo 
rest,  started  lo  hla  feet,  and,  throning  hia  hand  towards 
the  lofty  Inselhorg  which  rose  before  them,  "  Soeet 
Jon  liigh  mountain  ?  If  it  were  all 
of  pnre  gold  from  the  base  to  the  summit,  and  if  it  were 
bObred  lo  me  in  exchange  for  my  Elizabetb,  I  would 
give  her  for  it  1  —  no  —  I  love  her  better  than  all 
world !  I  lovo  only  bar  t  and  I  will  have  my  Eliza- 
("Teh  will  meiu  Elsbeth  haben  1  ")  Then 
WallhBr,  right  joyfnl,  said,  "  My  Bovereign  lord,  may  I 
tell  her  this?"  and  Lonia  answered,  "Yea,  tell  ber 
this,  thai  I  lovo  only  her  in  the  world  I  "  Then  ftura 
the  parse  wtiicU  hang  at  hia  belt  lie  drew  fbrtii  ti  Ultle 
silver  mirror,  cnriously  wrought,  surmounted  with  an 
image  of  our  Saviour.  "  Give  her  this,"  he  added, 
"  as  a  pledge  of  my  truth." 

When  they  rotHrned,  Walther  hastened  to  seek  Eliza- 
beth, and  gave  tier  the  loving  message  and  the  gift. 
And  she  smiled  an  angel  smile,  and  kissed  the  mirror 
reverently,  and  saluted  tlie  image  of  Christ,  and  thanked 
Him  for  all  Hia  morcioa,  but  most  of  all  for  ihat  He 
had  kept  true  and  tender  towards  her  the  heart  of  her 
betrothed  hnshand  ;  and,  having  doce  this,  she  put  the 
mirror  in  her  bosom,  next  to  her  heart. 

About  a  year  aiWwards,  their  marriage  was  formally 
solemnized  with  groat  feasts  sad  rejoicings  wliiub  lasted 
tllree  days. 

Louis  was  at  this  time  in  his  twentieth  year.  Be 
was  tall  and  well  made,  with  a  ruddy  complexion,  lair 
hair,  which  ha  wore  loag,  in  the  German  faebion,  bine 
eyes,  remarkable  for  their  serene  and  mild  expression, 
and  a  ooblu  ample  bruw.  He  was  uf  a  princely  temper, 
resoinie,  yet  somewhat  bashful,  "  and  in  his  words  was 
modest  as  a  moid."  lie  was  never  known  to  be  nn- 
bittifbt  to  hia  Eliubeth,  from  the  hoar  in  which  ihej 


141  LMGENDS  OF  TBE  UOXASTIC  ORDEBi 
lud  twea  laiil  ingethfT  io  her  cindlo  to  ibe  hour  of  hi 

Eliialmii  wii«  nui  quite  6fU>oii.  Her  Ixuat;  was 
■till  immsiore ;  Ihii,  frnm  ia  peculiar  cbarscter,  she 
•ppokred  older  than  the  nallj  whs.  Sbo  had  the 
hcaulT  of  her  nai  and  cauotrv.  a  laLl  slender  figuco,  a 
cWr  brolvD  mmpUsxion,  large  dark  cyeB,  and  hair  as 
blark  H  niglil ;  her  cjes,  above  all,  were  celebrated  b; 
her  conlcmporarioa,  —  "  ihey  were  cj*s  whirh  glowed 
with  an  inwaril  light  of  loTe  and  charitj,  and  were  ofiea 
muUtencd  with  tears." 

She  liied  with  her  husband  in  the  tendereat  onion, 
but  carried  inio  her  married  life  Ibo  aaslcn;  piotj  which 
had  dialiugQisbed  her  from  infancj  ;  and  the  more  she 
Inied  her  husband,  the  more  ahe  feared  herself.  By 
the  aide  of  her  innocent  hqipiness  "  a  gulf  still  threat- 
oaiug  to  devour  her  opened  wide,"  —  a  gulf  of  sin  — - 
misery  —  death ;  death  to  both,  if  they  stood  in  the 
way  of  each  otlier's  salvation. 

She  therefore  redoubled  her  tocret  penanccE;  rose  in 
the  night,  and  left  her  conch  to  pray,  kneeling  ou  the 
bare  cold  itarth.  Bhe  worn  hair-cloth  next  her  tender 
skin,  and  would  eometimcs  sconrge  herself,  and  caune 
her  ladies  to  sconiige  her, 

Louis  sometimeB  remotiBtrated,  bat  in  general  he 
sabmittcd,  from  some  Eeerot  persuasion  that  hiniBelf  and 
his  people  were  to  benofit  by  the  prayeis  and  the  sanctity 
of  Ills  wife,  Meanliine  she  wna  cheerful  and  loving 
towards  him,  dressed  to  please  him,  and  would  often 
ride  to  The  chase  with  bim.  When  he  was  abeeul  she 
put  ou  tlio  dTCBS  of  H  widow  and  wore  it  (ill  his  return, 
wben  she  would  a^^in  array  herself  in  her  royal  mantle 
and  meet  him  wirli  a  joyfal  smilo,  taking  him  in  her 
arms  as  be  dietnounted  from  his  horse,  and  greeting 
him  with  a,  wifely  tenderness. 

BIk  had  for  her  spiritual  director  a  certain  priest 
uuncd  Conrad  of  Marhourg.  a  man  of  a  stem  cliaracter, 
who,  after  a  time,  through  ber  excitable  mind  and 


BT.  ELIZABETH   OF  BBSGART. 

1  and  gentle  womanly  affections, 
Tuled  her,  not  merely  widi  a  rod  of  iron,  but  a  Bconrge 
of  fire. 

Conrad  had  denoanceil  as  iiaplcaeing  Co  God  cM^rlain 
imposia  vrhich  were  laid  □□  ttio  pcfiplo  for  cho  express 
pnrpoBe  of  fumiBhini;  the  rojral  table.  And  ho  mm- 
maoded  Elizabeth  not  to  eat  of  an;  food  served  up  at 
table,  except  of  Euch  as  had  heen  justly  paid  for,  or 
produced  from  the  private  and  heredilBry  escatea  of  her 
hnsbaod.  Not  always  able  to  disCtoguish  between  the 
permitted  meats  and  drinks  and  those  iatcrdicted  by  her 
confessor,  Eliiabeth  would  sit  at  her  own  royal  han- 
qnets  abstinent  while  others  teasced,  and  conteut  herself 
vrith  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  cap  of  water.  On  one 
-  flecasion  Loois  took  the  cnp  ont  of  her  hand,  and,  pat- 
I  Ifng  it  to  his  hpa,  it  appeared  to  him  Chat  he  tasted 
I  arloe  of  snch  a  divine  flavor  that  ho  hod  never  tasted 
jmj  like  it.  He  called  to  the  cu[>-beaTer,  and  asked 
faiin  of  what  vintage  was  this  EXlraordioary  wine?  The 
cup^iearer,  astonished,  replied,  that  he  had  poured  water 
into  the  cap  of  the  landgravino.  Lonia  hold  his  pew^e, 
for  he  had  long  believed  that  his  wife  was  served  by 
tha  angola ;  and  some  other  circnmataQCes  which  oc- 
curred during  their  married  life  convini^ed  him  that 
sbo  was  Dodoc  tho  especial  favot  and  protection  of 
Heaven. 

One  day  ihat  ho  entertained  several  of  [ha  neighbor- 
ing princes,  he  desired  of  Elizabeth  that  she  would  t^ 
pear  in  the  proienca  of  hia  guests  aa  became  hia  wila 
and  die  lady  of  his  love.  She,  always  obedient,  udled 
bar  maida  aronnd  her,  and  arrayed  borsolf  in  her  royol 


c  of  green  and  golden 


I  df  jenralg  confining  her  long  Aaik  ti 
^Aonldera  her  embroidered  mantte  lined  with  e 
Xhns  samptoonsly  attired,  she  was  abont  to  cross  one 
of  the  courts  of  the  castle  which  led  to  the  apartment  of 
her  huibsnd,  porbape  with  some  secret  thought  that  he 
would  approve  of  the  charms  she  liiul  adorned  for  his 
Mke,  whea  she  beheld  proatrata  on  the  pavement  ■ 


344  LEGENDS  OF  TRE  MOIfASTJC  ORDERS. 

■mrebed  beg)^,  aJmoat  naked,  and  shiranng  with  cold, 
liglif^r,  KDi]  (IbeBBO.  He  implored  har  charity;  she 
told  him  ehe  could  not  then  minister  Eo  liim,  and 
ftbont  in  pau  on,  bnt  Ii«,  taetaiuing  his  ncmbl 
limbs  on  hia  itaff,  draggled  himiielf  after  her,  aod 
plured  bar  that  »\ia  would 
tliul  for  the  sake  of  Chriet  oor  KcdcGmer  and  the 
John  the  BapiJit  stie  would  have  pitf  upoa  him, 
Elixabelh  had  Dover  in  lier  lilb  rejused  what  was  asked 
friiia  her  in  the  name  cither  of  the  Saviour  or  or  Sl 
Julia  the  Baptist,  who  was  her  patron  saint  and  pro- 
torlor.  Sliu  paused ;  and,  &om  a  divine  impulm  of 
mingled  piaty  and  chari^,  ehe  look  off  Lor  rojal  mantle 
and  threw  it  over  his  shoulders.  Then  slie  rclreilcd 
[u  hur  chamber,  not  knowing  Hon'  ehe  should  cxcase 
herself  to  ber  husband.  At  that  moment  tlic  laud)^ve 
rame  to  seek  her ;  and  ehe,  throwing  hoBelf  into  his 
ami,  confessed  what  ebe  bad  done.  While  he  stood 
irrCHiInlo  whether  to  admire  or  upbraid  her,  her  muden 
Guta  entered  the  chamber,  having  tiie  mantle  oo  ber 
arm.  "Madam,"  said  sbe,  "in  passing  tbrongh  the 
wardrobe  1  saw  the  mantle  hanging  in  its  place  :  wby 
has  jour  Highness  disarraywi  joiirBc!f1"  And  she 
hastened  to  clasp  it  again  on  her  shoulders. 

Then  her  husband  led  ber  ibrlh,  both  their  hearts 
filed  with  DDspeakable  gratitude  and  wonder.  And 
when  Elizabeth  appeared  before  the  guests,  tbey  arose, 
and  stood  amaicd  at  bur  bcuutj',  which  had  narer  ap- 
peared BO  dazxling ;  for  a  gloiy  more  than  hamaa 
•eemed  lo  play  round  her  form,  and  the  jewels  on  bar 
roaatla  sparkled  with  a  celesti^  light.  "And  who," 
says  the  legend,  "  ran  doubt  that  the  beggar  was  otir 
Lord  himself,  who  liod  desired  to  provG  the  virtue  of 
bis  servant,  and  who  had  replaced  the  mantle  hj  th« 
hand  of  ooe  of  his  blessed  angels  t " 

>a,  when  Elizabeth  was 


bUa^^^H 

M 

Now  ] 


□  her 


t  £iseaacb,  she  found  a  sick  child  es 


&om  among  the  others,  becstue  hi 
lotthgome  in  his  is ' 


a  leper,  and  0 
le  would  touch  himfll 


ST,  ELIZABETH  OF  HUNGARY.        345 

even  go  nigh  to  him  ;  but  Elizabeth,  moved  with  com- 
passion, took  him  in  her  arms,  carried  him  np  the 
steep  ascent  to  the  castle,  and  while  her  attendants  fled 
at  the  spectacle,  and  her  mother-in-law  Sophia  loaded 
her  with  reproaches,  she  laid  the  safierer  in  her  own 
bed.  Her  husband  was  then  absent,  bat  shortly  after- 
wards his  horn  was  heard  to  sound  at  the  gate.  Then 
his  mother  Sophia  ran  out  to  meet  him,  saying,  "  My 
son,  come  hither !  see  with  whom  thy  wife  shares  her 
bed  1 "  —  and  she  led  him  up  to  the  chamber,  telling 
him  what  had  happened.  This  time,  Louis  was  filled 
with  impatience  and  disgust ;  he  rushed  to  the  bed  and 
snatched  away  the  coverlid ;  "  but  behold,  instead  of 
the  leper,  there  lay  a  radiant  infant  with  the  features 
of  the  new-bom  in  Bethlehem :  and  while  they  stood 
amazed,  the  vision  smiled,  and  vanished  from  their 
sight." 

(We  have  here  the  beautiful  legendary  parable,  so 
often  repeated  in  the  lives  of  the  saints ;  for  example, 
in  those  of  St.  Gregory,  St.  Martin,  St.  Julian,  and 
others ;  and  which  doubtless  originated  either  in  the 
words  of  our  Saviour,  —  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done 
it  to  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it 
unto  me " ;  or  in  the  text  of  St.  Paul,  —  "Be  not  for- 
getful to  entertain  strangers,  for  thereby  some  have 
entertained  angels  unawares.") 

Elizabeth,  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  daily  visited 
the  poor  who  dwelt  in  the  suburbs  of  Eisenach,  and  in 
the  huts  of  the  neighboring  valleys.  One  day,  during 
a  severe  winter,  she  left  her  castle  with  a  single  attend- 
ant, carrying  in  the  skirts  of  her  robe  a  supply  of  bread, 
meat,  and  eggs  for  a  certain  poor  family ;  and,  as  she 
was  descending  the  frozen  and  slippery  path,  her  hus- 
band, returning  from  the  chase,  met  her  bending  under 
the  weight  of  her  charitable  burden.  « What  dost 
thou  here,  my  Elizabeth  ?  "  he  said,  « let  us  see  what 
thou  art  carrying  away  1 "  and  she,  confused  and 
blushing  to  be  80  discovered,  pressed  her  mantle  to  bar 


J46  LEOESDS  Of  TflK  MOSAS 

bmuin  ;  liul  lin  iiiiJalMl,  uid,  opening   hei  roiw, 
bohotd  only  red  anrl  white  nwei,  mom  bcanlifol  uiil 
ftai^nt  than  any  that  gmw  on  tliii  eonh,  even  a 
nivr-lide.  and  it  wu  now  the  depth  of  winur  I 
lie  max  about  to  omlince  hii  wife,  but,  lookiag 
face,  he  wa«  OTerawed  bj  «  eupernaUuHl  glory 
«ccmed  tu  emimBle  from  every  feature,  and  he 
nol  Much  ber;  he  bade  hor  gu  on  her  way,  and 
liiir  inuwiOD ;  liuL  taking  froni  Iter  lap  one  of  the 
of  I'aradine,  he  pnl  it  in  hit  bosom,  and  continued 
asivnU  the  monat^D  slowly,  with  hia  head  declii 
and  poadoring  iheae  diings  in  hie  heart* 

Id  the  year  ISSG,  the  Landgrave  Lanis  accompanivd 
Ilia  ]i<^  lord,  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  inio  Italy. 

In  the  sarue  year,  a  lerrible  famiae  afflicted  all  Ger- 
man; ;  but  the  connlty  of  Thuiingia  euAered  more 
than  any  oilier.  Klizabclh  dutribnLed  to  the  poor  all 
Ihe  com  in  the  royal  gronarieB.  Erery  day  a  certain 
qaantily  of  broad  wna  baked,  and  she  heiseif  served  it 
out  10  the  people,  who  thronged  aronod  the  gates  of  the 
labile,  Bometimeg  to  Ihe  nnmber  of  nine  hundred :  unit- 
ing pradeace  with  charity,  ehe  ao  arraoged  that  each 
person  had  Ms  just  shore,  and  to  husbanded  her  re- 
Eonrnes  that  they  lasted  through  the  summer  ;  and  when 
barveat-limo  came  round  neain,  she  sent  them  into  the 
fields  provided  with  scythes  and  sickles,  and  to  ever; 
man  she  gave  a  abirt  and  a  pair  of  new  shoes.  But. 
as  was  tisnal,  the  famine  bad  been  succeeded  by  a  great 
plague  and  murtolily,  and  the  indefatigable  and  inex- 
haustible charity  of  Elizabeth  was  again  at  hand.     In 


1?  ItigeDil  at  EHubetb.    Beo,  Id  hla  Uto  of  he 


ST.  ELIZABETH  OF  HUNGARY,        347 

the  city  of  Eisenach,  at  the  foot  of  the  Wartbarg,  she 
founded  an  hospital  of  twenty  beds  for  poor  women 
only ;  and  another,  called  the  Hospital  of  St.  Anne,  in 
which  all  the  sick  and  poor  who  presented  themselves 
were  received :  and  Elizabeth  herself  went  from  one  to 
the  other,  ministering  to  the  wretched  inmates  with  a 
cheerful  countenance,  although  the  sights  of  misery  and 
disease  were  often  so  painful  and  so  disgusting,  that  the 
ladies  who  attended  upon  her  turned  away  their  heads, 
and  murmured  and  complained  of  the  task  assigned  to 
them. 

She  also  founded  an  hospital  especially  for  poor  chil- 
dren. As  I  have  already  said,  children  were  at  all  times 
the  objects  of  her  maternal  benevolence.  It  is  related 
by  an  eyewitness,  that  **  whenever  she  appeared  among 
them,  they  gathered  round  her,  crying  *  Mutter  1  Mut- 
ter ! '  clinging  to  her  robe  and  kissing  her  hands.  She, 
mother-like,  spoke  to  them  tenderly,  washed  and  dressed 
their  ulcerated  limbs,  and  even  brought  them  little  toys 
and  gi^  to  amuse  them."  In  these  charities  she  not 
only  exhausted  the  treasury,  but  she  sold  her  own  robes 
and  jewels,  and  pledged  the  jewels  of  the  state.  When 
the  landgrave  returned,  the  officers  and  councillors  went 
out  to  meet  him,  and,  fearing  his  displeasure,  they  be- 
gan to  complain  of  the  manner  in  which  Elizabeth,  in 
their  despite,  had  lavished  the  public  treasures.  But 
Louis  would  not  listen  to  them ;  he  cut  them  short,  re- 
peating "  How  is  my  dear  wife  ?  how  are  my  children  ? 
are  they  well  ?  Let  her  give  what  she  will,  so  long  as 
she  leaves  me  my  castles  of  Eisenach,  Wartbui^,  and 
Naumburg  ! "  Then  he  hurried  to  the  gates,  and  Eliza- 
beth met  him  with  her  children,  and  threw  herself  into 
his  arms  and  kissed  him  a  thousand  times,  and  said  to 
him  tenderly,  "  See  !  I  have  given  to  the  Lord  what  is 
His,  and  He  has  preserved  to  us  what  is  thine  and 
mine ! " 

In  the  following  year,  all  Europe  was  arming  for  the 
third  Crusade ;  and  his  liege  lord  Frederick  II.,  having 
assumed  the  cross,  summoned  Louis  to  join  his  banner. 


I 


]4l  LF.OSHM  OF  TUK  MU\. 

No  hnlpl     Loui*  rout  go  where  Aalj  called  bim  ; 
bo  look  tbc  iiDM,  widi  muiv  other  prinroi  hdi)  di  ' 
fium  the  lianila  of  Conml,  hisliop  of  Hildeslieim. 
tuinlng  Ihpnru  M  hi*  cattle  of  Wartborg,  and  tJ 
on  all  tha  Borrow  it  would  cuuo  his  Etii&beth,  1: 
off  hia  rmu  anil  pat  it  into  his  puna  K 

nl  faor  ior  their  partii^ :  but  n 
Amy*  iHuitrKl  mrty,  and  he  but  not  (.tiiusge  u: 
xlial  WM  M  bia  haul. 

Una  evening,  whik  ttiey  tut  logetber  in  he 
(liu  luked  hini  for  slnis  for  her  poor  ;  and,  as  he 
she  plaTfOlIf  nabuckled  his  purse  and  put  hei  I 
into  it,  and  drew  forth  the  cross.  Too  well  ahe  ki 
thnt  sign  1  The  truth  burst  upon  her  nl 
awuoned  nt  hia  feet.  On  recovering  I 
wept  mnch,  nnd  said,  "  0  m;  brother  I  if  it 
ngainst  God'a  will,  eibv  with  mo  1  "  And  he  ai 
with  lEBTS,  '■  Dear  sister  I  I  have  miide  a 
I  maat  go  !  "  Then  ahe  said,  "  Let  it  be  as  God  n 
eth  I  I  will  stAj  behind  and  pray  for  thee." 
departed  in  the  aumlaGr  of  tliat  year;  and  Eliza 
wont  with  him  tn'o  days'  journey  before  she  hi 
strength  to  say  farewell.  Then  tiwy  parted  with 
and  many  embraeings;  and  her  ladies  and  her  ki  _  ^^_ 
brought  her  back  half  dead  to  the  Wartburg ;  n-bila 
LoDis  triih  his  knighls  poraued  their  journey.  Among 
these  was  Count  Ldiub  of  Gldehen,  whose  monument 
may  etill  bo  soon  Ju  tlie  Cathedral  of  Erinrt.  lying  be- 
tween his  two  wivoe.  The  landgrave  pnrsued  his 
journey  happily  tomrarda  Palostino,  nnlrl  he  came  to 
Otnuito  in  CaliUiria ;  there  he  was  seized  with  a  lever, 
and  died  in  the  arma  of  the  Patriarch  of  Jcmsalem. 
Ho  commanded  bis  knights  and  connts  who  stood 
round  his  bed  that  they  ahonld  carry  hia  liody  W  hia 
Dative  country;  and  defend  his  Elizabeth  and  his  chil- 
dren—  with  their  life-blood,  if  need  were  — ftwm  all 


oppression. 


Now,  after  tite  departure  of  her  hosband.  Elimbe 
had  broDght  forth  her  youngest  daughter,  and, 


8T.  ELIZABETH  OF  HUNGARY. 


349 


with  the  care  of  her  children  and  the  care  of  her  poor, 
had  resolved  to  wait  in  patience  the  return  of  him  who 
was  never  more  to  return.  When  the  evil  tidings 
arrived,  she  swooned  awaj  with  grief;  and  if  God,  the 
Father  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  had  not  sustained 
her,  she  had  surely  died. 

Louis  had  two  brothers,  Henry  and  Conrad.  The 
eldest  of  these,  Henry,  listened  to  wicked  counsellors, 
who  advised  him  to  take  possession  of  his  nephew's 
heritage,  and  banish  the  widow  and  her  children  from 
the  Wartburg.  It  was  winter  time,  and  the  snow  lay 
upon  the  ground,  when  the  daughter  of  kings  was  seen 
slowly  descending  the  rocky  path  which  she  had  so 
often  traversed  in  her  missions  of  charity.  She  carried 
her  newly  bom  baby  in  her  arms ;  her  women  followed 
with  the  three  eldest.  Henry  had  forbidden  any  of  the 
people  to  harbor  her,  being  resolved  to  drive  her  beyond 
the  confines  of  his  territory.  So  she  wandered  about 
with  her  children  till  she  found  refuge  in  a  poor  inn. 
It  is  related  that  in  passing  along  the  snowy,  slippery 
way  she  fell ;  that  a  woman  —  one  of  the  women  whom 
she  had  tended  in  her  hospital  —  mocked  at  her  as  she 
hkj  on  the  earth,  —  and  that  even  this  did  not  disturb 
her  meek  serenity.  She  afterwards  placed  her  children 
in  the  care  of  some  faithful  servants,  and  for  several 
weeks  supported  herself  by  spinning  wool,  in  which  she 
excelled. 

In  the  mean  time  the  knights  returned  to  Thnringia» 
bearing  with  them  the  remains  of  Louis ;  and  having 
heard  by  the  way  of  the  cruelty  and  injustice  with  which 
the  widow  of  their  lord  and  master  had  been  treated, 
they  were  filled  with  indignation.  They  obliged  Heniy 
to  be  contented  with  the  title  of  Regent ;  they  placed 
the  young  Herman,  on  the  throne;  and  Elizabeth  re- 
ceived, as  her  dower,  the  city  of  Murbourg,  whither  she 
retired  with  her  daughters. 

She  was  accompanied  by  the  priest  Conrad,  her  con- 
fessor, whose  power,  no  longer  divided  with  that  of  a 
beloved  husband,  became  more  and  more  absolate. 


I 


H« 


Under  bii  direcdon  her  lifb  beoame  one  contiiiiied  peo- 
>ncv.  One  b_v  one  sho  putad  with  her  childKn,  test 
aba  ihoulit  lore  ihem  too  well :  he  restrided  tier  chari- 
tiw.  which  were  her  □nlj'  coDBoklioD,  becniue  tbaj  were 
ft  ronsohuioD.  She  already  wore  llie  cord  at  a  member 
of  the  Third  Erancisrau  Order ;  and  when  she  fbuod 
that  she  was  not  permitted  to  pre  avaj  all  she  had, 
«lw  wished  to  olieikale  her  possesiions,  to  lake  the  vowe 
•if  ahsolulc  poverty,  and  lo  beg  her  bread  through  the 
world  :  but  ihia  also  Conrad  refiued  to  allow.  She 
riMolvcd  therefore,  as  aho  might  not  beg,  to  labor  Tor 
lidT  eDppDr^  She  apun  wool,  and  as  her  poor  Qagera 
bemmi;  weaker  and  weaker,  and  she  earned  less  and 
l«w.  Iicr  clothes  beaune  rBg^;ed,  and  she  ineDdod  them 
with  shreds  of  any  color,  picked  np  here  and  there,  to 
that  her  appearance  exdled  the  derision  of  the  people, 
and  ilie  very  children  —  those  children  whom  she  had 
BO  tended  and  cherished  —  puraued  ber  in  the  slrceta 
as  a  nmd  worann  '.  All  lliese  faumiliatlonB,  and  more 
and  worw,  she  endarcd  with  an  humble  and  resi|i^ed 
spirit,  and  the  pions  looked  npou  her  as  a  socond  St. 
Clara. 

But  even  into  her  poor  retreat  the  wicked  world  por- 
sned  her.  It  was  reported  —  bat  only  in  distant  parts, 
where  she  was  not  known  —  that  she  was  living  with 
the  priest  Conrad  in  an  unhol'i'  anion ;  and  her  old 
friend,  Walllier  do  Varila,  thought  it  right  to  visit  her 
and  to  warn  her  of  these  reports.  She  made  no  answer, 
but,  sadly  shaking  her  head,  she  bared  her  shoulders 
and  showed  them  lacerated  by  the  penilential  scourge 
inflicted  by  her  harsh  director.  So  Waltbor  de  VariU 
sud  no  more,  bnt  sorrowfully  went  his  way. 

After  this  viEit  Conrad  dismissed  her  two  women, 
who  dll  now  had  served  her  faithfully,  and  placed  round 
her  person  creatnres  of  his  own,  who  made  her  drink  10 
the  very  dregs  the  cup  of  humiliation.  Trae,  i 
Bwd  that  she  was  comforted  by  celestial  visitant!  .  _ 
the  angels,  and  the  blessed  Virgin  herself,  d^giieA  dj 
hold  convene  with  her;  bat  not  the  lesa  did  Sia  pf^ 


ST.  ELIZABETH  OF  HUNGARY.        jji 

T  favored  saint,  gradaallj  fads  awaj,  till, 

d  upon  her  lasi  bed,  she  tamed  her  fece  lo  the  wall 
Bod  begaa  to  eing  hTmoB  with  a  most  sweM  voice : 
when  her  strength  fiuled,  Bhe  ottered  the  word  "  Si- 
lence 1  *  and  ao  died.  Tlie  legend  adds,  that  angels 
bore  her  spirit  into  heaven ;  and,  as  thej  ascended 
through  the  night,  the;  were  heard  from  afar  chanting 
the  tespODse,  "Btgnum  mwvii  cOBtaapsi."  She  had 
just  completed  her  twentj-tbnrth  ^ear,  and  had  sur- 
vived her  hustiand  three  jean  and  a  half. 

So  sooner  had  EtizaSeth  breathed  her  last  bimth, 
than  the  people  snirounded  her  couch,  lore  awa^  her 
robe,  cut  oif  her  liair,  —  even  mutilaiBd  her  remains  for 
relics.  She  was  baried  amid  miracles  and  lamenta* 
doDs,  and  four  jears  aflet  her  death  she  was  canonized 
by  Gregory  IX. 

In  the  same  year  was  fbnuded  (he  Chorch  of  St 
Elizabeth  at  Morbonrg  It  was  completed  in  forty- 
eight  years,  and  her  shrine  there  was  enriched  by  the 
Offiriags  of  all  Germany.  The  church  is  one  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  pure  early  Gothic,  and  in  perfect 
preservation.  The  richly  omamontcd  chapel  of  St. 
Elizabeth  is  in  the  transept,  —  the  stone  steps  around 
it  wuru  holloiv  by  the  knees  of  pilgrims.  The  shrine 
of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  was  not  more  venerated 
and  visited  in  England  than  the  shrine  of  St.  Elizabeth 
in  Germany  This  shrine  is  still  preserved  in  the  sao- 
risiy,  bat  merely  as  a  curiosity;  for  at  the  time  of  the 
Reformation  it  was  violated,  with  circumstances  of  great 
•nd  bmlal  levity,  by  her  own  descendant,  Philip,  land- 
grave of  Hesse,  styled  in  history  "  the  Magnanimous," 
and  her  remains  were  dispersed  no  one  knows  how  or 
whither. 

TTie  Ctslle  of  the  Wartbnrg,  once  the  home  of  Eliaa- 
beth,  is  now  almost  a  mln.  The  chamber  she  inliabjted 
is  stiU  carefiilly  preserved,  not  because  it  was  krrs,  bat 
becsose  it  was  Lather's.  Here  he  fonnd  a  refuge  from 
the  vengeance  of  priests  and  princes ;  bet«  he  completed 
his  translation  of  the  Bible ;  here,  as  he  himself  t«laies- 


I 

I 


he  rontnniled  budilr  wilh  lh«  demons  who  came  to  inter- 
ru|<i  liln  work  ;  and.  tierv  llicy  «lill  sliow  llio  tain  an  the 
Till  Trum  the  iokstond  vrliich  he  Sung  u  the  haul  of 
8»tBn  I  ~— looking  on  whldi,  we  maj  the  more  euailj 
forgirellieBiuk.  fimcioB  sod  w>ut  lortnreB  of  Ih&t  gentlesl 
uid  kirclieit  of  all  gaints,  GliulKlh. 

1  rememher  climbing  ibo  rocky  liy-pnlli  to  the  sam- 
mil  of  iha  Wutbat^,  tlie  path  whure  Elb:aJ>eth  wm 
DOcuuntered  vith  her  lapfDl  of  loHa  ;  and  1  cannot  help 
tliiiikini;  that  lo  have  performed  tliat  feat  twice  a  dij 
ru|iiir«l  indooil  all  the  upjring  ferror  of  the  lainc,  as 
w(ill  as  the  tender  eothnainsm  of  Che  woman,  joung  and 
light  iD  spirit  and  in  limb.  Poor  Elizabeth!  Her 
■nemory  Etill  lives  in  the  traditions  of  the  people,  and 
in  the  names  given  to  manj  of  tlie  localities  near  Else' 
nat-h  and  Marbanrg;  they  still  cnltivaiB  roBesronnd  the 
Wcinitj  of  the  sleep  and  stony  Wartbarg:  1  recollect 
seeing  the  little  cetoelory  wliicli  lies  near  the  base  of  iho 
mountain  aU  one  blush  of  rosea ;  —  ya 
the  lotnbstonua  for  Iho  rose-bnEhes,  nor  the  graves 
the  rose-leaves  heaped  on  them. 

And  so  mui:h  for  tha  hialoiy  of  Etirxbeth  of 
gary ;  which  baviag  read  and  considered,  we  non 
to  the  effigies  which  exist  of  her. 

She  ongfat,  of  course,  to  be  always  represented 
young  and  bcaullfiii,  hot  Homo  of  tlio  Gmnan 
have  overlooked  the  hiiUirical  descrip^on  of  her  person, 
and  convened  the  darli-eyed,  dark-huied  Hungarian 
boanty  into  tbo  national  blonde.  They  have  also  given 
her  llie  fiailnrcs  of  a  niatnjn  of  mature  and  even  Teii- 
crable  age ;  and  it  is  curious  that  this  mistake  is  not 
made  in  the  Italian  pictures.  Her  proper  aClributo  is  the 
lapful  of  rosea,  whii:h  should  bo  red  and  white,  the  roses 
of  paiadise  lloee  and  puri^,  —  like  iliose  wMdi  crown 
Bt.  Cecilia).  She  sometimes  wears  the  attire  of  a 
sovereign  princess,  sometimes  the  veil  of  a  widow, 
'  s  habit  nod  cord  of  a  Frandscao 


m 

ed  M  J 


nnn:  in  general  a 


ripple  i 


feet,  and  the  diseased  cripple  has 


'  beggar  is  prostrate  ol 


ST.  ELIZABETH  OF  HUNGARY.        353 

aments  of  a  child.  Where  three  crowns  are  intro- 
daced  they  represent  her  sanctity  as  virgin,  as  wife, 
and  as  widow. 

I  will  give  some  examples :  — 

1.  The  statae  in  the  Cathedral  at  Marbourg  is  per- 
flaps  the  most  ancient.  She  stands,  as  patroness  of  the 
church,  a  grand  dignified  figure,  with  ample  massive 
drapery  falling  round  her  form ;  a  crown  on  her  head ; 
in  one  hand  she  holds  the  church  (according  to  custom-), 
the  other  hand  is  broken  off; — it  was  probably  ex- 
tended in  benediction:  at  her  feet  is  the  figure  of  a 
cripple. 

2.  A  colossal  figure  on  one  of  the  windows  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Cologne,  north  of  the  nave. 

3.  She  stands  in  a  niche,  holding  up  a  basket  of 
roses,  —  no  crown,  long  gdden  hair  flowing  over  her 
robe  of  crimson  and  ermine.     (Basle  Mus^e.) 

4.  She  stands,  holding  up  with  both  hands  the  folds 
of  her  robe  filled  with  roses.     (F.  Angelico.) 

5.  A  most  beautiful  figure  in  a  Coronation  of  the 
Virgin  (S.  Botticelli) ;  she  is  looking  up  with  a  soft 
devout  expression,  her  lap  full  of  roses,  and  the  three 
crowns  embroidered  on  the  front  of  her  tunic. 

6.  She  stands  in  the  dress  of  a  nun,  veiled ;  a  rosary 
in  her  hand,  and  the  roses  in  her  lap ;  —  one  of  a  group 
of  Franciscan  saints  in  an  altar-piece  of  the  glorified 
Madonna.* 

7.  She  stands  in  royal  attire,  ministering  to  some 
diseased  beggars  who  kneel  at  her  feet,  the  leprous  boy 
being  conspicuous  among  them.  (Holbein,  Munich 
GaUery.) 

*  u  Santa  Elisabetta  che  h  bellissima  flgora,  con  airiUi  ridente  e 
yolto  grasioso,  e,  con  il  grembo  pieno  di  rose ;  e  pare  che  gioiaca 
veggendo  per  miracolo  di  Deo  che  il  pane,  che  ella  stessa,  g^raa 
signora,  portava  ai  poveri,  fosse  convertite  in  rose,  in  segno  che 
era  aocetta  k  Dio  qaella  sua  umile  caritft."  —  Vasari^  L  659.  FL 
edit.  The  other  saints  in  this  fine  picture  are  St.  Frands,  8L 
Antony  of  Padua,  St.  Louis  King,  St.  Louis  of  Toulouse,  St 
Bonaventura,  St.  Ives  of  Bretagne,  and  St  Iflfiiiffsr  of  SaJMao. 

»3 


I 


JJ4  LEOF-NDS  OF  TBE  UONASTJC  (UUJESS. 

a.  She  stwuli,  vdlcd  at  ■  widow,  giving  a  rest  to  b 
knacling  beggar.  A»  ia  twusl  •riili  ancieoi  votive 
pklnres.  the  Bainl  it  coluMal,  ihe  tieggor  diminncive. 
(B<Haaor4c  Gallerr.) 

9.  St.  Eliadtelb  spinning  nith  Eve  oC  her  maids :  in 
k  fiiint  by  Hum  Burftmair, 

Of  the  sabjccn  taken  Trom  hor  life,  tbc  most  onrient, 
I  presnlDO,  ore  the  »fu1pniree  over  llic  allor  of  her 
chkpel  in  ihe  Cathetlml  at  Marboarg.  The;  are  carved 
in  wood,  in  very  high  relief,  and  in  the  para  German 
leligiont  style,  somewhat  like  Albert  Diirer,  bat  i^cr- 
UudIj  more  ancient.  In  the  renlre  ia  the  death  of  Sc 
Elixabcth.  Seven  figuttB  of  priefla  end  BticndantB  sur- 
roand  hvr  bod :  the  most  conspienoua  and  authori- 
tative of  thew,  wbieb  1  premma  lo  represent  hor  cou- 
ftasor,  Connid,  has  the  head  broken  off,  and  is  the  onlj 
figure  muiilBled.  On  ono  «ido,  she  is  carried  to  the 
tomb ;  on  the  other  ie  the  oxaltation  of  her  relini  ufKr 
her  canonisation  in  presence  of  the  Emperor  Frederic. 

On  the  doors  which  dose  in  Ibis  Bcnlptore  arc  painted 
Mveral  subjecCE  liom  her  life ;  among  them  the  fol- 
lowing ;  — 

1.  She  ^vea  her  royal  mantle  to  the  beggar.  S. 
The  mlrade  of  the  poor  leper  laid  in  her  bed.  3.  The 
parting  of  Elizabeth  and  her  hueband.  4.  She  ia  ex- 
pelled  from  hur  castle  of  the  Warlbnrg. 

But  the  most  celebrated  picture  from  the  life  of  St. 
Elizabctb  is  that  which  Murillo  painted  for  Ibe  church 
of  the  Caiitad  at  Seville,  one  of  the  aeries  of  pictures 
illnnrating  "thenorkaofcharitj."  It  is  thus  described 
by  Mr.  Stirling:  — 

"  The  eompoaition  coniista  of  nine  fiEoroB  assembled 
in  one  of  llic  balls  of  ber  hospital.  In  the  centre  stands 
'riio  King's  daughter  of  Hungary,'  arrayed  in  the  dark 
robe  and  white  bead-gear  of  a  nun,  surmounted  by  a 
■mall  coronet;  she  is  engaged  in  washing,  at  a  Bilver 
basin,  the  scald  bead  of  a  beggai^boy,  whieh  being 
punted  with  revoltinj'  adherence  to  nature,  has  obtained 
for  tlie  pietuie  it«  Spaniah  name  ef  Tiiano.     Two  of 


ST.  ELIZABETE  OF  BOHGART.        555 

her  ladies,  bearing  a  trilrer  ewer  and  a  traj  with  cnpa 
and  a  napkin,  stand  at  her  right  hand,  and  fi-om  behind 
peers  a  spectacled  due!Ia ;  to  her  left  hand  there  is  a 
Mcond  boy,  likewias  a  tihoao,  removing  with  great 
caution,  and  a  wiy  face,  the  plaster  which  covers  his 
head,  a,  cripple  reeting  on  his  crutches,  and  an  old  wo- 
mun  seated  on  the  steps  of  the  dais.  More  in  the  fore- 
gronnd,  to  the  right  of  the  groop,  a  half-nalced  beggar, 
with  his  head  bocod  ap,  leisarely  removes  the  bandage 
from  an  ulcer  on  bia  leg,  painted  with  a  realiijr  so 
carious,  and  so  disgusting,  that  the  eje  is  both  arrested 
and  siiieoed.  In  the  distance,  through  a  window  or 
opening,  is  seen  a  group  of  poor  people  seated  at  table, 
waited  on  by  their  gentle  hostess.  In  this  picture, 
althoogh  it  has  sufiered  somewhat  (rata  rash  restora- 
tion, the  managementor  the  composition  and  the  lights, 
the  brilliancj  of  the  coloring,  and  the  manual  skill  of 
the  execntion,  are  above  all  praise.  Some  objection 
may,  perhapA,  be  made  to  the  OKhihition  of  so  much 
that  is  sickenini^  in  the  details.  But  this,  while  it  is 
joBtified  by  the  legend,  also  heightens  the  moral  e^ct 
of  the  picture.  The  disgust  felt  by  the  spectator  is 
evidently  shared  by  the  attendant  ladies ;  yet  the  high- 
born dame  continues  her  self-imposed  tash,  her  pale 
and  pctisive  eonntcnance  betraying  do  inward  repug- 
nance, and  her  dainty  fiagera  shrinking  fi-om  do  service 
that  can  alleviate  human  misery,  and  exemplify  her 
devotion  to  her  Master.  The  old  bag,  whose  brown 
scraggy  neck  and  lean  arms  enhance  by  contrast  the 
delii-atc  beauty  of  the  s^nt,  alone  secma  to  have  leisure 
or  inclination  to  repay  her  with  a  look  of  grateful  ad- 
miration. The  distant  alcove,  in  which  the  i&ble  is 
spread,  with  its  aruhes  and  Doric  pillars,  forms  agrace- 
ful  background  displaying  the  purity  of  MuriQo's  archi- 
tectural taste." 

Among  ihajnetares  at  this  "chSreSiunle  Elisabeth," 
I  am  tempted  to  include  one  in  verse,  which,  in  its 
Tivid  graphic  power  and  truth  of  detail,  m^  be  com- 


J56  ISGEt/DS  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


p*»d  »  Muiilla.  In  the  GnuitDS  of  Wolf  von  Goethe 
(tfas  Mnx)ni|i1tahe<]  gnnilton  of  the  ^rcal  poet),  a  iaogh- 
ing  dsme  rtilicules  the  BHintl;  chxritr  of  Eliiabeth  and 
the  ■DBlcril}'  of  her  umrt,  where  lo  uook  foe  the  sick 
■LQd  Id  serve  beggars  wu  the  Tocution  — 

3ir  Jtrdntt  hclHn  unft  ftr  iStttlcT  fpuntl, 

SSnbtcit  tiiMn^t. 
Another  lady,  who  had  (bnnerl;  altendGil  oi 
thiu  replies :  — 

"  Deride  DM  Itaou  that  a^ntlf  ouna  !    I  tra 
Tat  mllrt  fioe  now.  u  alic  la  chefrtullj- 
Tmd  the  nugli  pUta  thst  daon  the  WvUmiK  goM 


We,ttuinli 
Impottent 


ei  IhW  round  08  t&r,— 


or  cripple  (ofttimci  icnn»d  uid  reiedj, 


With  nneit  <t< 
BiiiiEhl  In  ber  i 


■ilittfj  to  iihm»T 


h]  Udla  of  tii«  luid. 


ST.   ELIZABETH    OF  aUSCARV. 
Oit  vonld  I  Uiron  m;  aidenilld  robn  aiide, 


3>\t  fiiil'flt  grau  btrrpottt  ni*t  t 
34  T'l)'  o><tl  ■'"  mUfrcd  ^Rgtjidll. 

Sum  -EtcrP*'''!'  1^''^'  ^^  ["  jcgrBnttt. 
3)tiia  Wit  bed  IllIJ(^^[^  Pit  9t!ifc  [avp't". 
SBalb  bintin  unK  ball  ^o^tblll  taviMcn. 

lint  wit  in  tbitm  ^Untvtinai, 

etgann  e«  im  @|iita[  iu  [tfttn. 

£lt  tiantm  AtnCii  tlDlpiittn  btMt  titxiat. 

am  3fii|lic  jtigttn  jTit  »if  alten  ©$TOaitt]i. 

Sit  firl^pElcin,  tk  anD'Tt  vft  tiilii^tn 

Xlit  btittii  (Sinned,  ff^  t>t[f|>«ne[  utit  »trrilt)t, 

Wu  ftatMt  fremint  giau  ara  iimlglltn  aftiiit. 

(Sit  ilngtii  (lit)  mit  |tarr>m  tBIiit  an  ibc  iSttDtinV. 

suit  D|f 'ntm  anunCi  (ii(|)tnt,  an  fit  ft^  iiimnt, 

ttnt  tin  fit  t\a.  Km  fifi""  6tt<tl'  I'l^iii, 

2>ig)ng  td  an  tin  Otiiftn,  an  ttn  S^ii^en. 

„  gu  nil,"  —  „  gu  inic,"  fo  f^Dll  t<  taxS)  ttn  Saul ; 

3>lt  etien  e4atcn  rbnt  ^M 

3trlKinti  |it,  bettiK  tll  Arnnttn ; 

Sit  gocnlgtn,  mit  uiinennb>i(tt  $ulB| 


■        I 

J 


SrtnaJjntt  fit  ju  fciuiiMiitier  (£ 


ISa^w 


:n  -^anttiliftii,  Sitintn,  Santen. 


Unt  ivgllt'  auQ  tint  IDlIjjP  fi4  ubcil 


III  Rtantii  |i<t  tinHn»ni. 


lUffplftigrJminytsit 


93(1  |1dI|  g(|>u^len  QiiluEn  jldnl. 
Op  iBJrf  14  lib  fa^  ^ruiitjtiDHiiB. 


'  j;|  LEOBNOa  OP  TMX  MOITABTIC  (MDEga. 

.  Ei.UABitTB  Of  PuHTiioAL,  uioihor  queeolf 
Miot  <r)io  wean  tho  Fnncisran  hnbit,  wiu  tlio  gnind- 
«  of  St.  F.lluUralb  r>r  Uuiiin'7,  bdiI  daughter  o~ 
Peier  III.  king  of  Arsf^n.  She  wiu  mamed  joua 
to  DioDygiiiB,  king  of  Punugnl,  a  wise,  jnsi,  and  G 
tanatc  prinm  as  ro|tu^«l  IiIb  imopte ;  &uhleas,  pro 
gate,  and  cruel  ia  hie  conjugal  uid  domcalic  nlatioiM 
Elizabeth,  aAer  a  long  and  unhappy  morriiige,  was  ll 
a  widow  in  1335,  nnd  diod  in  1336  at  tho  age  of  si 
five,  nariog  boon  canonized  late  bj  Urban  T 
(in  ISiS),  ibe  does  not  appcur  in  oarlj-  piclarcs; 
03  t  thiiik,  onlj  in  Spanish  nnd  Portagueee  arc,  for  I 
can  reroltect  no  iusbince  in  Italian  or  German  pictures. 
She  i»  repn»ented,  like  Elizabeth  of  Hungarj,  in  the 
habit  of  a  Fmuclscan  nan,  or  a  widow's  hood  and  veil, 
over  whifh  she  weare  the  royal  crown  :  she  ia  ntnallj 
dinponeing  alms,  and  dUtingnub«d  troui  the  ofAer  St. 
Elizabeth  hj  hor  rcneralile  age,  or  by  having  the  anna 
of  Portugal  or  Aragon  placed  in  some  part  of  ihe  pict^ 
nre.  Mr.  Stirling  moniions  "a  fine  composition  from 
her  exemplary  life,"  by  CarreRu  de  Miranda,  bat  not 
tlie  scene  or  sobject  chosen.  Pictnnw  of  this  smnted 
qacen,  so  Tory  rarely  met  with,  ought  to  excite  soma 
interest  and  attention.  She  is  ramarkablo  for  throe 
things,  bcaidea  Iho  usual  amount  of  prayers,  penances, 
miracles,  and  charities  which  go  to  the  making  of  » 
saint :  —  for  forty  years  of  unfailing  pnlience  under  a 
wifely  martyrdom  almost  intolonihic;  — for  having  b* 
on  every  occaaioii  the  pcai^etnaker  and  reconciling  an; 


SuT  lE^tm  ^itti  tin  14  blnjrcilt. 
2J(nn  lie  in  (f  tftnad;  btinvdli ; 


it  fir,  Ktn  edJ'tKiftiNi  Ii^tt  )u  bchiijtn ; 


<lmf»itat,  aU  tin  Otlftc  tariubctnaen. 
Tm  ate  tramLUIan  nt  IhlH  beanCUu]  nnd  anioul 


ST,  LOUTS  OF  FRANCE.  359 

between  her  faithless  bat  accomplished  husband  and 
his  undatifal  son,  when  she  might  easily  have  avenged 
her  wrongs,  and  fomented  discord,  by  the  assertion  of 
her  own  rights ;  this  procured  her  in  Spain  the  charm- 
ing title  of  San^  Isabd  de  Paz ;  —  last,  and  not  least, 
she  is  the  original  and  historical  heroine  of  Schiller's 
"Fridolin/'  though  in  the  ballad  and  in  Retzsch's 
designs  the  scene  is  transferred  to  Germany,  and  Eliza- 
beth becomes  "  Die  Grafin  von  Savem."  I  have  never 
met  with  this  beautiful  well-known  legend  with  refer- 
ence to  Elizabeth  queen  of  Portugal,  to  whom  it  right- 
fully belongs.  It  is  mentioned  by  all  her  biographers, 
not  even  excepting  the  "  Biographie  UniverseUe"  * 


St.  Louis  of  Fbanob. 

Lot.  Banctns  Lodoyicus  Bex.    ItcU,  San  Laigi,  B^  di  Francia. 

August  25, 1270. 

The  life  of  Louis  IX.  as  King  of  France  does  not 
properly  belong  to  our  subject,  and  may  easily  be  re- 
ferred to  in  the  usual  histories  and  biographies.  On 
his  merits  as  a  glorified  saint  rest  his  claims  to  a  place 
in  sacred  art ;  and  on  these  I  must  dwell  briefly,  for 
the  reasons  given  already  in  speaking  of  the  canonized 
kings  and  princes  of  the  Benedictine  Order.  The 
Franciscaos  claim  St.  Louis,  and  commemorate  him  in 
their  pictures  and  churches,  because,  according  to  their 
annalists,  he  put  on  the  habit  of  the  **  Third  Order  of 

*  In  the  French  catalogue  of  the  Royal  Gkdlery  at  Naples  there 
is  a  picture  with  thii  title,  —  ^'  Frangoia  Albano.  —  Miracle  de 
S.  Rose.  Un  homme  assiste  k  Poffice  divin  dans  un  ohapelle  dedite 
k  S.  Rose,  pendant  que  son  ennemi  court  vers  Pendroit  oil  U  avait 
plac^  ses  braves,  pour  voir  si  sa  vengeance  6tait  acoomplie  )  mala 
oeux-ci  B'6tant  m6pris  le  brQlent  dans  le  m§me  four  quMls  avatent 
prepar6  pour  le  d^vot.**  I  do  not  remember  the  picture,  but,  flrom 
the  above  ill-written,  almost  unintelligible  deacriptioD,  I  can  Just 
surmise  that  it  refSers  to  this  l^^nd. 


]<o  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEi 

Penitenm  "  before  he  embarked  on  hU  first 
died  in  tl'e  cowl  and  cord  of  St,  Fmncia. 

St.  LouU  was  bom  at  Poissy  in  1215.  His  fotber,' 
IiOuii  Vni.,  and  hia  molber,  Blanche  of  Castile,  are 
tlie  Louia  and  Blanche  who  figure  in  Shakespeare's 
"  Kin)j  Jolin."  During  his  minority  his  mother  goT- 
eniDii  France  with  admirable  disrrctlon,  and  it  in  re- 
corded ibM  tjil  his  twelfth  year  he  had  no  oilier  in- 

Theto  is  a  rery  prelly  story  of  Blanc-he  of  Cnstile, 
which  ma}'  fitly  hnil  a  place  hero.  1  luivu  never  met 
with  BDy  rBpresEntation  of  it,  but  it  would  certainly 
form  a  moat  graceful  anbject. 

One  day,  as  Queen  Blanche  sal  in  tier  benqoet-hall 
i'l  great  state,  she  markeil,  among  llio  pages  of  honor 
Etauding  around,  one  whom  she  had  not  Ecen  before. 
Now  it  was  the  caalom  in  those  days  for  the  eons  of 
princes  lo  be  brought  Dp  in  the  toon 
and  to  serve  as  pages  before  ihoy  could  aspire  to 
bonor  of  kni);btbood.  Queen  Blanche  then,  observing 
this  youth  and  admiring  bis  noble  mien,  and  hia  long, 
fair  hair,  which,  being  parted  on  bis  brow,  hang  down 
over  his  shoulders,  sbe  asked  who  he  was,  and  they  (old 
her  that  it  was  Prince  Hortnan,  the  sou  of  the  sainted 
Eliiabclli  of  Ilnngary.  On  hearing  Ihia,  Queen  Blanche 
rose  from  her  seat,  and,  going  towards  tbe  jonth,  she 
stood  and  ga^ed  apou  him  for  a  lew  momcnls  with 
eamest  attention.  Then  she  said,  ■'  Fair  youth,  thoa 
liadst  a  bloaaed  mother;  where  did  she  kiss  thee?" 
The  youth,  hluahiug,  replied  by  placing  hia  finger  on 
bis  forehead  between  bis  eyes.  Whercupou  the  qneen 
reverently  pressiid  her  lips  to  that  apol,  and,  looking  up 
to  heaven,  breathed  a  "  Sanaa  Eliialielh,  Poimna  mystni 
dulciiaima,  ora  pro  nabu  I  " 

This  incident  appears  to  me  very  graceful  and  piclU' 
resqne  in  itself,  and,  hesidea  ita  connection  with  the  his- 
tory of  "la  chfere  Sointe  Elisabeth,"  it  exhibits  the 
character  and  lorn  of  mind  of  her  who  formed  the 
character  of  St.  Louia, 


ST.  LOUIS  OF  FRANCE.  361 

I  hare  a  great  admiration  for  St.  Lonia,  and  neret 
coald  look  on  (he  effigiee  which  represent  him  in  bll 
iacred  character  without  a  deep  and  aolemn  interest 
There  ia  not  a  more  atriking  example  of  the  manoer  in 
which  the  religions  enthusiaam  of  the  time  reacted  on 
minda  of  the  highest  nmaral  endowmenta,  called  to  the 
bigheat  duties.  The  talents  and  virtues  of  Louia  have 
never  been  disputed,  even  by  thoae  who  sneered  at  hia 
fenaticism.  Yoltaire,  not  much  given  to  ealogiiing 
kioga,  and  atill  leas  aainia,  auma  ap  bia  character  by 
sajing,  "  11  n'est  gu^re  donn^  &  I'homme  de  pouaaer  la 
verta  plua  loin  1 "  Gibbon  allows  that  be  nniled  the 
virtoes  of  a  king,  a  bcro,  and  a  man.  A  monument 
of  his  love  for  his  people  and  of  his  wiadom  aa  soTercign 
and  1egia[at«r  exists  in  hia  code  of  lawa  known  aa  ■■  the 
Ordinances  of  St.  Loais,"  which  became  aa  dear  to  the 
French  as  the  laws  of  Edward  the  Confeaaor  had  been 
to  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  He  showed  the  poesibility 
of  combining,  as  a  religions  king,  qaalities  which  a 
Machiavelli  or  a  Bolingbroks  would  have  held  to  be 
incompatible; — the  most  tender  hnmaiiity,  anblemished 
truth,  inflexible  justice,  and  generous  conaidoration  tor 
the  rights  of  other  princes,  —  infideli  eiccepled.  —  with 
personal  intrepidity,  with  all  the  arta  of  policj,  with 
the  moat  determined  vindication  of  his  own  power.  Ha 
was  feared  and  respected  by  other  nations,  who  mada 
turn  the  nmpire  in  dieir  diapntee  :  he  was  adored  bj  hi* 
subjects.  Hia  chivalrous  gallantry,  his  inspect  for 
women,  his  fidelity  to  bis  wife,  bia  obedience  to  bis 
noble-minded  mother,  his  tendemeaa  tor  his  nnmerous 
children,  complete  a  portrwt  which  surely  joslifies  the 
words  of  Voltaire:  "  II  n'eat  gahte  don n£  &  I'homme 
de  ponsser  la  vertu  plus  loin  t " 

The  strongest  contrast  that  conld  be  placed  before 
the  fancy  would  be  the  cboiocters  of  Louis  IX.  and 
Lonis  XI.  It  would  be  a  question,  perhaps,  whelher 
the  piety  of  the  first,  or  the  odiona  tyranny  of  the  latter, 
canaed,  on  the  whole,  the  greatest  amonnt  of  indivldnal 
mitery ;  bnt  we  took  to  the  moCivea  of  the  two  men. 


^J^BCfJtf^flS  OF  TBE  MQHASTIC  ORDERS. 


and  to  the  n 

ono  Mid  10  abhor  tlie  other.     True,  both  were  BapenI 

liooii ;  l;ul  what  a  diUcrenre  between  tlie  anperstitiC 

I  of  Louia  XL  oil  hu  kooua  bcTore  "  Our  Lad;  of  CIci 

I  And  tha  Kapcntitioa  of  Louis  IX.  walking  barehea 

[  with  tlie  crown  of  thoma  in  hii  hand  ai  ' 

will>  daroni  tt 

In  tho  thinocnth  PCTitury  ti      .  , .  . 

lDD»t  in  the  minds  of  Chrietiao  toeo,  —  ihe  pasaion  A 
reVica  and  the  passion  for  crneading. 

WTioQ  tho  Emperor  Baldwin  II.  camo  to  beg  a 
fWini  Lonia,  ho  serured  hia  good-will  at  onco  by  offering^ 
to  sarreDdor  tho  "  holy  crown  of  thoma,"  which  for 
(cvcral  cencuricB  had  beon  preserved  at  Constaatinopte, 
and  had  been  pled^rcd  to  the  VcodtianB  for  a  large  sum 
of  money.  Of  all  tho  rolics  then  believed  in,  credible 
or  incrsdiblo,  this,  next  to  the  "  True  Cross,"  was  the 
most  precious  and  voncmblo  in  the  eyca  of  ClmstiBiiE. 
Ziouis  rodeeraed  tho  pledge ;  granted  (o  Baldwin  snc- 
corg  in  men  and  money,  and  then,  considering  bin 
enriched  by  tho  exchajige,  be  brought  the  Crown  a 
Thoma  to  Paris,  mirying  }t  himsotf  from  Sena,  ban ' 
and  bareheaded :  having  been  so  thrlee  happy  a 
obtain  also  a  small  piece  of  the  Tnio  Cross,  he  bl 
in  honor  of  these  trensures  tbe  chapel  sinee  called  i 
Sitinle  Chapelle  (Paris),  ono  of  the  most  porfoct  a 
exqaieite  mooumcuts  of  the  ai 
•e™-  _ 

In  Ihe  year  I£4T  Lonis  was  seized  with  a  dangoraaa 
malady;  hia  life  wni  despaired  of,  but,  iiAer  lying  for 
Bonus  hours  iosenBible  in  a  kind  of  trance,  he  revived, 
and  the  Htbi  words  he  uttered  were,  "  La  Lumi^rs  de 
rOrient  a'eat  repandu  du  haul  du  del  sur  raoi  par  la 
grace  da  Seigneur,  et  m'a  rappele  d'entre  les  morlBl  " 
Ha  then  called  for  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  and  desired 
to  reedve  from  liia  hands  die  cross  of  a  cnuadar.     In 

spite  of  the  grief  of  hia  wife,  the  remonstrances  of  hia 

mother,  the  wamiags  of  hie  prelates  and  of  his  w 
Gonnsellon,  he  persisted  in  his  resolve ;  and  tl 


ST.  LOUIS  OF  FRANCE.  j6j 

Inshop  of  Paris,  with  tears  and  audible  aoba,  affixed  the 
GTOBs  to  his  dresB.  la  the  next  year,  as  Boon  as  hia 
healih  wpuid  permit,  and  Bccompatiied  b;  hia  wife,  his 
brother?,  and  (he  flower  of  his  nobility,  he  embarked 
for  Egjpt,  with  a  Beet  of  eighteen  hundred  sail,  and'  an 
armj  of  &itj  thomsand  men. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  hoirors  and  dliaalen  of  (hat 
campuga.  The  itsnlt  was,  that  after  seeing  one  of  hU 
brothers,  and  most  of  his  followers  perish,  —  after 
slaughter,  famine,  peatQeuce,  and,  worse  than  all,  tbdr 
own  rices  and  excesses,  had  conspired  lo  ruin  hia  army, 
—  Loms  was  taken  prisoner.  Tbroughont  these  re- 
verses, amid  these  indescribable  horrors,  when  the 
"  Greek  fire  "  fell  among  bis  maddened  troops,  no  doniK 
entered  the  mind  of  Louis  that  he  was  right  in  the  sight 
of  God.  If  not  desdned  to  conqner,  be  believed  him- 
self called  to  martyrdom :  he  regarded  as  martyrs  those 
of  his  people  who  perished  loond  him :  bis  futh,  bia 
patience,  his  devout  reliance  on  the  goodness  of  hia 
canao,  his  tender  care  for  his  folbwers,  with  whom  or 
fer  whom  he  every  hour  hazarded  his  life,  never  wav- 
ered for  one  raonient.  He  wesransomed  at  length, and 
passed  from  Egypt  to  Palestine,  where  he  spent  three 
years.  He  then  returned  lo  France.  He  reigned  for 
sixteen  years  wisely  and  well,  recmiled  his  finances, 
enlarged  the  bonnds  of  his  kingdom,  saw  a  new  geneni- 
tion  of  warriors  spring  up  aroaDd  him,  and  then,  never 
baring  laid  aside  the  cross,  he  set  forth  on  a  second 
crusade.  A  wild  hope  of  baptizing  the  King  of  Tnnii 
induced  him  to  land  in  AMca,;  his  troops  agiun  per- 
isbed  of  some  lorribte  malady  caused  by  the  climate, 
and  Louis  himself,  after  dictating  to  his  son  Philip 
some  of  the  wisest  precepts  that  ever  fell  from  the  lips 
of  a  sovereign,  expired  in  bis  tent,  laid  on  ashes  as  a 
penitent,  and  wearing,  aa  the  Franciscans  assert,  the 
hamble  habit  of  their  Order- 
He  was  canonized  by  Boniface  Vni.  in  1397,  twenty- 
feven  years  after  bis  death.  Part  of  bis  bod;  was  car- 
ried by  Charlea  of  Aigou  to  his  c^iital,  Palermo,  and 


]66  LEGENDS  OF  THE  UOXASTIC  ORDi 


LoiTiR  01'  Anjod  waa  the  nephew  of  St.  Louis,  ting 
of  Frani>e,  aod  son  or  ChEirles  of  Anjon.  king  or  Naples 
vid  Sidly.  His  mother,  Haria  of  Haat^ij,  who  had 
the  direriion  of  hii  oducHtion  in  cliildhood,  bniaght  him 
np  in  habits  of  piety  and  self-detaiBJ.  "It  is  no  hard- 
ahip,"  aha  said,  "  for  a  Christian  to  pnutrsc,  htr  the  sake 
of  virtue,  that  tercro  aobrieiy  which  the  I^ai-edicniDDians 
and  oltwT  warlike  nations  exacted  from  ttinr  childn»i 
for  the  BilBininent  of  martial  etreot'th  and  hardihood." 

It  happened  that,  when  Lonls  waa  onlj  Ibnrteen,  bia 
father  was  taken  piisoDCr  by  the  king  of  Ariigon ;  and 
wag  obliged  lo  deliver  up  his  three  sons,  with  leveial 
of  his  nobles,  as  hostages.  Louis  spent  several  jears 
in  captivity.  The  inhamanity  exerciaed  towards  hira- 
self  and  the  other  hostages,  according  to  the  barbnrona 
cuetoms  of  that  period,  broke  attogetbor  a  epirit  nat- 
urally geode  and  contemplative.  A  sense  of  the  instO' 
bility  of  hnmaD  greatness  caused  a  feeling  of  disgust 
■gainst  the  world,  and  an  indiHi^renee  to  the  rank  to 
which  he  was  bom.  On  regaining  bis  libcrtv  in  IBS*, 
he  yielded  all  hia  rights  to  the  kin^om  oi  Naples  to 
his  brother  Robert,  divested  himself  wlioliy  of  all  his 
princely  and  secnhir  dignities,  and  leeeivcd  the  tonsure 
and  the  habit  of  St,  Francis  at  the  age  of  twenty-two. 
8oon  ofterwanls,  Pope  Bonifais  nominated  him  Bishop 
of  Toulouse.  He  traTalled  to  take  possession  of  his 
bishopric,  barolbot,  and  iu  hia  friar's  babit;  and,  during 
the  short  remainder  of  his  life,  endeared  himself  to  his 
people  by  the  proclire  of  every  vinuo.  Travelling  into 
Ftvvence  in  the  dischai^  of  his  chontable  dnties,  he 
came  to  liis  father's  castle  of  Brignolles,  where  be  flrsl 
saw  the  light,  and  died  there  iu  bia  iwenty-fourtb  year. 


Hew 

his  body,  whiul 


lized  ii 


1317  by  Pope  Jobu  XXII,,. 


ilcd  widi  the  Franc; 


B,  was  aflerHards  carried  away  by  J 
1,  aad  enshrined  at  Voleod*. 


8T.  LOUIS  OF  TOULOUSE,  367 

Louis,  bishop  of  Toalonse,  is  in  general  represented 
as  youthful,  beardless,  and  with  a  mild  expression; 
wearing  his  episcopal  robes  over  his  Franciscan  habit. 
His  cope  is  sometimes  richly  embroidered  with  golden 
flenrs-de-ljs  upon  a  blue  ground,  or  the  fleur-de-lys  is 
introduced  as  an  ornament  on  some  part  of  his  dress  * 
or  a  crown  and  sceptre  lie  at  his  feet,  alluding  to  his 
rejected  kingdom  of  Naples.  He  wears  the  mitre  as 
bishop,  or  he  carries  it  in  his  hand,  or  it  is  borne  by 
an  angeL 

In  the  altar-pieces  of  the  Franciscan  convents  and 
churches  he  is  often  grouped  with  the  other  saints  of 
his  Order;  as  in  a  beautiful  picture  by  Moretto,  in 
which  he  stands  with  San  Bernardino  (Milan,  Brera) : 
in  another  by  Cosimo  Roselli,  a  Coronation  of  the 
Yirgin,  in  which  he  stands  with  St.  Bonaventura. 
(Louvre,  No.  1204.) 

St.  Louis  is  also  conspicuous  in  a  large  picture  by 
Carlo  Crivelli  (Gal.  of  Lord  Ward),  formerly  in  the 
Brera,  and  certainly  painted  as  an  altar-piece  for  one 
of  the  great  Franciscan  churches  in  the  North  of  Italy. 
In  the  centre  is  the  Virgin  enthroned :  on  her  knee  the 
In&nt  Christ,  from  whom  St.  Peter,  kneeling  rever- 
ently, receives  the  mystical  keys ;  an  altogether  poetical 
version  of  the  subject,  as  I  have  already  observed.  (Sa- 
cred and  Legend.  Art.)  On  one  side  is  a  martyr- 
bishop,  no  otherwise  distinguished  than  by  his  palm  ;  * 
behind  him  St.  Bernardino  of  Siena,  with  the  standard 
as  preacher.  On  the  other  side  stands  St.  Louis  of 
Toulouse ;  behind  him,  St.  Bonaventura  with  the  sacra- 
mental cup,  while  the  Host  is  suspended  from  heaven 
above  his  head.  St.  Francis  and  St.  Augustine,  as  the 
two  patriarchs  of  the  Order,  look  out  from  behind  the 
throne. 

*  There  is  reason  to  suppose  that  the  piotore  was  painted  aft 
Ascoli,  in  the  March  of  Ancona  (v.  PApe  Italiana,  vol.  iv.).  In 
that  case  the  bishop  represented  is  probably  Sant'  Emlgio  (Lai, 
Bmygdins),  the  first  bishop  and  patron  of  the  oity  of  Ascoli,  and 
martyred  about  the  year  808. 


Mid  the  rivulets  runniDg  with  their  blood.  From  those 
Urribli:  and  loagniliceiit  asBocuUionii.  we  turn,  at  length, 
(o  (mtcr  tho  church  of  the  lowly  Fooitetit,  where  tlio 
flni  thing  that  sirika  lu  ia  hec  Btame  in  wliila  maible, 
tlanding  oal  of  the  ahadowy  glaom,  cold,  calm,  and 
pale,  her  dog  cronehiDg  at  her  feet.  Her  abrine,  in 
which  she  lies  beneath  the  high  altar,  is  Awed  with  «il- 
vcr  in  very  modem  Owlo.  Tha  andeot  tomb  which 
coDlaiDcd  her  remains  before  she  was  canonized  is  now 
pmservod  in  a  small  chapel  adjoining  the  church.  It 
is  placed  over  a  door.  Shs  lies  extended  onder  a 
doable  Gothic  arch,  Che  csDopj  orer  her  head  Bust^ned 
bj  lovely  angels :  her  face  is  beaatifol ;  the  attiludo 
perticnlarly  simple  and  gracefiil,  and  the  drapery  eo 
disposed  OS  to  show  that,  beneath  its  tbiils,  her  lianile 
are  clasped  in  prayer.  The  lower  part  of  the  tomb  is 
adorned  with  four  baa-relicfs.  On  one  side  she  tokiw 
the  penitential  habit;  on  the  other  she  dies  and  her 
spirit  is  borne  into  heaven.  The  two  central  compart- 
ments struck  me  as  beautifally  signilicaiit  and  appro- 
priate with  referooco  to  the  history  of  the  saint ;  —  I. 
The  Magdolctte  anoiotjni;  the  feet  of  our  Saviour,  ex- 
pressing the  pardoiuog  ^race  which  had  redeemed  her. 
a.  The  raiaiog  of  LBZurue,  expressing  her  hopes  of  res- 
nrrecdan.  The  whole  exceedinjjiy  beautitnl  luid  in 
the  finest  taste  of  the  best  lime  of  Gothic  art,  —  about 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth  contniy. 

In  the  portico  of  the  aame  church  is  a  quaint  old 
fresco,  representing  St.  Margaret  at  the  moment  she 
discoTOrs  the  body  of  her  Iwier. 

When  Pielro  di  Conona  was  ennobled  by  hie  ni 
city,  he  testified  his  gratitade  by  proscnting  a  ci 
gold  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Margaret,  of  whom  be  pi 
several  pictoree. 

There  is  a.  very  beautiful  drawing  by  this  m 
Qoethe  Collection  at  Weimar,  representing  St.  5 


8T.   IVEB  OF  BRETAGNB.  jji 

•f  Cortonast  ihefootof  tbecraciBx;  sad  bo  expnoslT^ 
that  I  have  tfaoaght  it  might  have  snggested  to  Goethe 
the  Boaoe  of  the  peoiteoM  of  Mugaret  in  the  "  faiut." 


St.  Itxs  of  Brbtaohb,  whose  proper  Btrle  is 
"  Saint  Tveg-Helori,  Aracat  dea  Pauvres,"  is  claimed 
bj  tlia  Franciscans  on  rather  uncertaia  groands.  They 
assert  that  he  took  the  habit  of  the  Third  Order  of  this 
CoiDmaDi^  at  Qaimper  ia  1383.  This  beiog  denied, 
or  at  least  doubled,  b?  the  Jesuit  authorities,  it  has 
fblloned  that  in  pictnres  painted  for  the  FrondscaQ 
churches  he  wears  the  knotled  cord,  and  io  those 
psiated  for  tlie  Jesuits  it  is  omitted.  But  wherever 
we  flnd  him,  —  in  church,  chapel,  or  gallery, — we  may 
be  sure  that  the  efligy  was  painted  for,  or  dedicated  by, 
one  of  the  legal  profession. 

This  famous  saint  —  of  whom  it  was  wickedly  said 
that  the  lawyers  had  chosen  him  ibr  their  patron,  bat 
not  their  pattern — was  bom  in  1253.  He  was  descended 
from  a  noble  family  in  Bretagne.  His  mother,  Aza  Da 
Plesaie,  attended  carefully  to  his  earl;  education;  from 
her  he  derived  bis  baliits  of  irnth,  his  love  of  justice,  his 
enthusiastic  piety.  When  quite  a  child  he  was  heard 
(o  declare  he  would  be  a  saint,  —  juat  as  a  lively  boy 
of  oar  owD  times  announces  his  intention  to  be  admiral 
or  lord  cliancellor ;  — r  and  in  this  saintly  ambition  hii 
mother  encouraged  him. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  bo  was  sent  to  Paris,  to  study 
jurisprudence,  and  afterwards  to  Orleans,  where  he 
made  himself  master  of  civil  and  caoon  law.  But, 
tme  to  his  first  vocation,  he  lived  in  these  cities  the  Ufb 
of  an  anchorite,  and  the -hours  not  devoted  to  study 
were  givea  to  religious  meditation  and  to  the  most 
active  charity.  On  bis  return  to  his  own  country  hii 
pgrente  wished  him  to  mairy,  but  be  had  abready  made 
a  secret  vow  of  celibacy,  to  which  he  adhered  daring 
the  rest  of  his  life. 


I 


FVanclsaui  friar,  ind  liear^rorlh  he  made  the  Holy  Scrip- 
iure<  hia  guide  uiil  inicTpreter  in  bis  legal  knovledge. 
When  he  wu  about  thittj,  the  Bishop  of  Tr^uier  ap- 
poinied  bini  Judge  AdTocate  of  his  dioi.'eEe.  Id  this 
office  hi«  profound  knowledge  of  law,  his  pietv,  aod  his 
chnrity  were  GquoUy  eonspicuoQB.  Ho  pleaded  gratui- 
tously the  eause  of  the  widows  and  orphans  :  and  when 
wivene  parties  were  brought  before  bim,  he  exhorted 
them,  in  the  most  moving  langfua^,  to  be  reconciled 
u  Cbdsiians.  and  Dfteii  settled  their  difibreui^eB  without 
the  interreotion  of  the  law.  Afler  some  years  spent  iu 
the  exercise  oT  every  yirtue,  he  entered  the  priesthood. 
On  the  eve  of  his  ordination,  he  went  to  the  hospital 
where  be  had  beea  ncmstORied  to  miuiater  lo  the  poor 
and  sick,  and,  laliing  off  his  legal  habiUmenta,  his  furred 
gown,  his  tippet,  bis  bannet,  and  his  boats,  he  distrib- 
uted them  to  four  poor  old  men.  He  retired  thence 
bareheaded  and  barcruol.  He  afterwards  uniud  his 
duties  of  pastor  with  those  of  advocate  of  tlie  poor  ;  still 
uung  his  ]egal  knowledge  to  dofeod  the  cause  of  the  des- 
titute and  the  oppressed,  and  leading  the  life  of  an  apOEtle 
and  minister  of  religion,  white  eouducting  Ihe  most 
complicated  legal  afliurs  of  the  diocese.  His  health 
sank  under  his  official  labors  and  his  religious  austeri- 
ties, and  he  died,  at  the  age  of  fifty,  in  the  year  1303. 

His  conntrymen  of  Bretagne,  wlio  idolized  bim  while 
living,  regarded  him  as  a  saint  .when  dead;  and  Jean 
do  Montfort,  daka  of  Bretagne,  went  himself  to  Av- 
ignon, then  the  seat  of  the  popes,  to  solicit  his  canoniza- 
tion. It  was  granted  by  Clement  YI.  in  1347.  Since 
[hen,  Sc  Ives  has  been  honored  as  the  patron  saint  of 
lawyers,  not  merely  in  Basse-Bretagne,  but  all  over 
Enrope.  Through  the  intercourse  between  our  southern 
shores  and  those  of  Brittany,  St.  Ives  was  very  early 
introduced  uito  England,  and  by  our  forefathers  held  in 
great  rt 


PictoreB  of  this  good  se 


are  reiy  paculiai 


1  laierestiag  t 


id  easily  n 


n,  but  they 


He  has  do  especial  attribute,  but  is  always 


ST.  ELEAZAR. 


371 


in  bis  legal  attire,  us  Jndge,  or  ns  Doctor  of  Lam, 

holding  a  paper  in  bis  hand;  sometitnea  his  fhrred 
robe  is  girded  with  the  Franciscan  cord.  In  a  picture 
by  Empoli  (Florence  Gal.),  he  ia  seated  on  a  throne, 
wearing  the  lawyer's  bonoet,  the  glor;  round  his  head ; 
before  hia  throne  stand  various  persona  of  all  classes, 
rich  and  poor,  widows  and  orphans,  to  trhom  he  is  dis- 
pensing jnstica.  The  coatnme  ia  not  that  of  the  thir- 
teenth, but  the  eeventceath  cenlnij.  lo  a  picture  by  De 
Klerck  (BtusscIs),  he  rejects  a  bribe.  In  a  picture  by 
Rubens  (Louvain),  he  stands  as  patron  saiot,  attired  aa 
"Docteur  en  Droit"  :  a.  widow  and  an  orphan  are 
kneeling  at  hia  feet.  In  another  pictare  by  Empoli 
(Louvre)  he  is  kneeling,  and  St.  Luke  presents  biin  to 
the  Virgin  and  Child,  who  ara  seen  above. 


The  Franciscans  are  rich  in  priacely  laiots;  beside* 
thoae  already  meotioned  we  hare  another  ioSr.  Blzeas 
or  Eleazab,  CouDt  of  Sabrao  in  1300.  He  had,  like 
most  other  aaints,  a  wise  and  piona  mother,  who  loved 
bim  lofinitely,  bat  prayed  in  his  iofancy  that  he  might 
be  taken  away  from  her  then,  rather  than  live  10  be 
unacceptable  to  his  Maker.  He  was  married  }>ouDg  to 
Delphine,  heiresa  of  Glend^nea,  with  whom  be  lived 
ia  the  strictest  continence  and  harmony,  and  both  wet« 
equally  remarkable  for  their  enthaaiastic  piety  and  de- 
votion. "  Lei  none  imagine,"  says  the  writer  of  his 
lire,  "  that  true  devution  conaisia  in  spending  ^1  oar 
time  in  prayer  or  tailing  into  a  slothful  and  bithlest 
neglect  of  our  temporal  conrema.  It  Is  a  solid  virtae 
to  be  able  to  do  Che  business  we  aadertake  well  and 
traly."  The  piety  of  Eleazi^  rendered  him  mors 
honest,  prndent,  and  dexterous  in  the  maaBgement  of 
temporal  atiairs,  public  and  private,  valiant  in  war, 
active  and  prudent  ia  peace,  and  diligent  in  the  cam 
of  hia  household.  His  wife  Delphine  emalated  him  in 
every  virtae;  both  enrolled  tbemselres  in  the  Tbild 
Otdei  of  St.  Frauds,  koA,  after  the  deub  of  Eleaiar  u 


■ 
■ 


ibc  a^  ot  tweniv-eit'lii,  Delphltie.  nftcr  rMidins  for 
■  will]  li<?r  rdcDd  Soncliik.  Qaven  of  Naples 
(wMow  of  Roliert  of  Anjon,  who  was  the  brother  of 
tH.  Loots  of  Toulouse),  withdrew  to  complete  aeclnxioD, 
and  dint  ver^  oU  about  1369. 

St.  Elcazur  and  Sc  Delphine  appear  in  tlie  Frao- 
riican  pirtures,  generally  ti^thec.  They 
dnwed,  and  St,  Elcuur  is  diitjnguiabed  bj  hold! 
hU  hand  ft  bundle  of  papers,  from  which  seals  are 
pending,  in  allusion  to  the  following  beautiful  ' 
Alter  his  father's  death,  while  looking  over  bi  .  .  ._ 
he  disco'enul  certain  letters  containing  the  moat  laka 
and  bitter  calutnnles  against  himself,  even  urging  his 
hther  to  disinherit  him,  as  nnfic  to  reign,  &e.  He  wns 
urged  to  avenge  bimbclf  on  tbe  trutor ;  bat,  instead  of 
doing  so,  he  sent  Ibr  him,  burned  the  letters  in  his 
prescnre,  forgave  him,  and  dismissed  him  with  kind 
words  and  gifta,  so  ch«i  he  converted  b  secret  eiKmy 
into  an  0|>en,  true,  and  devoted  [iiend.  In  the  picture 
of  MoFundo,  nlraadj'  mi;ntioncd,  St.  EtcazBT 
without  his  wife,  holding  sealed  papers  iu  hif 


The  Si.  Eoba  di  Viterbo  who  figures 
and  in  the  churches  on  the  road  between  Moata  Pnl- 
dsoo  and  Borne,  with  her  gray  tunic,  her  knotted  girdle, 
and  her  chaplct  of  roses,  was  not  a  prol^gBL'd  nan,  but 
a  member  of  the  Third  Order  of  St  Frontis,  She 
lived  in  the  diirtoenth  cenlary,  and  was  conapicnoni  for 
her  charity,  her  auslcrity,  ber  eloquence,  and  the  moral 
influence  she  CKerciscd  over  the  people  of  Viterbo. 
Living,  alie  Waa  Ibeir  benelsctress,  and  has  since  been 
exalted  as  their  patroness  in  heaven.  Beitidee  the  local 
liffiKies.  which  are  nnmerous,  I  reraeraber  her  in  a  heall- 
liPul  picture  by  Fi^  Paolino  da  Piatuia  (a  scholar  of 
Fr&  BaMolomeo),  bo  "  Aaaumptioa  of  the  Virgin,"  in 
which  she  figures  below  with  St.  Francis  and  St.  U* 
anla,     (Florence  Acad.) 

"  Santa  nosa  di  Viterbo  haraagoing  an  audience, 
the  subject  of  a  picture  by  Sebastian  GomCE. 


picture  I 

atci^^^^^ 


ST.   FRANCIS  DE  PAULA.  375 

We  most  be  caitfal  to  distinguUh  St.  Bom  di  \i- 
terbo,  the  FranciKan  nun,  from  St.  Bou  di  lima,  the 


St.  Foahois  sb  Paula,  foonder  of  the  refarmed 
Frandscan  Order  of  the  Mioimes,  naa  born  at  Paolo, 
B  little  citj  in  Cal&bm,  on  the  road  between  Naplei 
and  Eeggio.  Hia  paronle,  who  vere  poor  and  virtaooa, 
had  from  hia  earliest  ia[aiiC7  dedicated  him  to  a  lelig- 
ioDS  lite.  He  accompanied  tltem  on  a  pilgrimBge  to  the 
Bhrine  of  hie  patron  saint,  St,  Francis  of  Assiai ;  on  his 
Tetom  home  he  withdrew  to  a  aolitary  cavent  near 
Beggio,  and  turned  bennit  at  the  a^  of  fifteen. 

After  a  while  the  fame  of  hia  SBOciity  caused  otbwi 
to  join  him  ;  the  people  of  die  neighborhood  built  fiw 
them  cells  and  a  chapel,  and  from  thia  time  (1436) 
dates  the  institation  of  the  Uinimea,  or  Henaiu  of  St. 
Francia.  They  fallowed  the  Franciacan  rale  with  ad- 
ditjonal  ansterides,  keeping  Lent  alt  the  jear  roaod. 

Francis  de  Paula  took  for  the  motto  of  bis  brother- 
hood the  word  Charity,  becanae  the  membera  profeaeed 
intimate  love  and  anion  not  on)j  towards  each  other, 
bat  to  aU  mankind  ;  and  thej  were  to  be  stfled  Min- 
imes,  as  being  not  only  las,  bat  the  kmt  of  all  in  the 
Chnrch  of  God. 

The  fame  of  his  aanditj,  and  of  many  miracnlou 
cares  performed  for  the  sick,  at  length  reached  the  ean 
of  Loois  XI.  of  France,  who  was  then  dyin);  in  bis 
costls  of  Flessis-te-Tonrs,  like  an  old  wolf  in  his  den. 
He  sent  to  deaire  the  presence  of  the  man  of  God  (for 
BO  be  termed  htm),  promising  him  great  privileges  for 
his  Order,  and  princely  recompense,  if  he  would  visit 
him.  Francis,  who  thought  that  this  desire  to  see  him 
proceeded  more  from  a  wish  to  prolong  life  than  to 
prepare  for  death,  declined  the  invitation.  Loais  then 
addressed  himself  to  Sixtos  IV.,  and,  by  die  command 
of  the  pontiff.  Frauds  repaired  to  Tonrs. 

When  he  airiTod  at  AmboiK  he  waa  met  by  tho 


J76  LEOKSDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OBDESS^ 
danphia  &ni)  li;  the  greitteM  lords  of  ilie  court,  — 


J,  aayB  Philippe  de  Cominei,  ■ 


Pape."     On  h 


■LVing  ! 


t  the  CBMle  of  P. 


ftll  proatnte  at  hit  fvet,  and  enlreated  of  hioi  to  obtain 
from  Ilcaren  the  proloogHtioi]  of  his  life.  The  good 
simple  friar  displayed  on  this  ocrjuioa  more  good  sense 
•ad  dignity,  w  well  oi  more  virtue,  thnn  tho  king,  de- 
scended from  a  line  of  kingt '  he  rebuked  Louis,  told 
him  that  life  and  death  were  in  the  Lands  of  God,  and 
that  no  hope  remained  lor  him  but  in  Bnbmissioa  to  the 
Divine  will ;  he  then  performed  for  him  the  last  olGoes 
of  ruligion  After  the  death  of  Louis,  Chnrles  VIII. 
and  Louis  yn  doraincd  Che  good  saint  almost  condnu- 
My  in  France,  and  near  the  court,  where  he  had  great 
inSnence.  The  courtiers  railed  him,  in  derision,  "  Le 
Bonbomme  " ,  but  the  people  gave  that  title  (o  him  and 
[o  his  Order  in  a  difirenc  spirit,  and  the  "  Bons-hom- 
laes"  became  very  popular  in  Franco. 

St.  Froofis  de  Paula  died  at  PlcsaisJe-Toani  in  1507. 
Louise  d'AngoulCme,  the  mother  of  fVands  I.,  pra- 
pared  bia  vrinding^heet  nith  her  own  hands,  and  he 
was  canonized  by  Leo  X.  in  1519.  In  1562  the  Hngne- 
DOCs  riOcd  his  tomb,  and  bunied  his  remains,  using  fbr 
that  purpose  the  wood  of  a  large  cruci/tx  which  they 
had  hewed  to  pieces.  This  circumalance,  at  once  a 
desecration  and  a  consecration,  rather  increased  his 
popnlarity  with  the  opposite  party.  There  waa  no  saint 
whose  effigy  was  so  commonly  met  with  in  France  — 
•vat,  for  since  the  Revotuliou  <■  noas  avona  change  tout 

Of  course  there  are  no  very  early  pictures  of  St. 
Francis  de  Paula.  The  best  are  Spanish,  and  the  best 
of  these  hy  Murilto,  who  pajoted  him  itir  his  beloved 
Capuchins  at  ieast  six  times. 

The  HBiul  is  represented  as  a  very  old  man  willi  a 
long  gray  beard.  He  wears  a  dark-brown  tunic  and 
the  cord  of  St.  Francis.  The  peculiarity  of  the  hatui, 
and  that  which  diacinguiehea  the  MinimeB  from  I 
Cordeliera,  conaists  in  the  short  scapnlary  hanging  dc 


BT.  FRANCIS  DE  PAULA. 


377 


In  trrmt  b  littltf  beloir  the  girdls  and  roanded  off  at  dw 

eoda,  lo  the  bafk  of  which  ia  sewn  a  small  roand  hood 
(not  pointed  behind  like  that  of  the  Capuchine),  Ire- 
quenllj  drawn  over  the  head.  In  pictures  tha  wcrf 
"  Charitas  "  19  generally  introduced  ;  sometimeB  it  ia 
diaplajed  in  a  giorj  above,  aomctiniea  it  ia  written  OQ 
a  scroll  carried  hy  an  angel. 

There  is  a  picture  by  Lavinia  Fontana  (Bologna 
Cral.)  representing  Louise,  dachesse  d'Angoolfline,  at- 
tended by  fonr  Ladies  of  honoi,  kneeling  at  the  feel  of 
St.  Francis  i!e  Paula,  to  whom  she  presents  her  infant 
son,  afterwards  Francis  I.  The  heads  in  thie  pictnn, 
as  might  be  expected  From  Lavioia  Fuotana,  one  of  tbe 
best  portrait  painters  of  her  time,  have  all  Che  spirited 
and  lile-like  treatment  of  portraiture.  The  whole  pict- 
nre  is  beautifully  painted,  —  in  some  parM  equal  la 
Guide. 

It  19  related  in  Che  legendary  liie  of  this  saint,  that 
wlien  he  was  about  10  cross  the  strait  from  Reggto  to 
Messina,  and  the  mariners  lefused  to  convey  him,  he 
spread  his  mantle  on  the  waves,  stepped  upon  it,  accom- 
panied by  two  lay  brothers,  and  thus  they  were  borne 
over  the  sea,  Cill  they  landed  safely  at  Messina-  This, 
as  I  have  already  observed,  is  a  legend  common  ta 
many  sainCa,  from  whom  St.  Francis  de  Paula  ia  dia- 
Anguished  by  his  dress,  as  described,  and  by  bis  (no 
companioas  There  is  a  fine  piccure  of  this  aubjact  in 
the  Louvre  (Sp.  Gal,),  in  which  the  calm  trust  of  the 
saint  and  his  companions,  and  the  aalonishmenC  of  the 
Sicilian  peasants  who  behold  their  approach  to  die 
shore,  are  very  well  expressed. 

A  large  and  fine  picture  by  Solimene  (Dresden  Oal. 
No.  9!)4)  exhibits  St.  Francis  do  Paula  kneeling,  and 
commending  to  tbe  care  of  the  Madonna  and  Infant 
Savioor  a  beautiful  little  boy  about  three  years  old, 
who  is  presented  by  bis  guardian  Angel.  The  diTJna 
Child,  with  a  most  sweet  and  graciona  expression, 
BCrelches  out  his  hand  to  receive  his  little  votary,  whom 
I  sappoee  to  be  the  godson  of  the  taint,  FntncU  L 


fOF  THE  HOtiASTIC  ORDERS. 

King*,  not  dtHdren,  figure  Id  the  tcgcud  of  St.  Francis 
dfl  Paula. 

For  ihia  Mint  CharleB  YIIL  founded  and  eodoi 
tbe  Church  of  tbe  Trinid-ile '-Monti,  at  Rome. 


St.  Juan  de  Diob  wns  tlio  founder  of  tbs 
toUen,  or  Brolliera  of  Cluuil}' :  ho  is  the  subject 
uf  MuriUo's  Qncal  jikturcs,  and  his  story  is  Tcry  ii 
eating. 

lie  was  bora  in  Ponngo!,  at  Monte-Mayor,  in  the 
diocoae  of  Evan,  in  tbe  jear  IIBB.  Eia  parents  were 
poor,  and  unnble  to  do  anylliing  (or  his  edutalion,  but 
his  molher  bronght  him  up  in  babiU  of  obcdienre  and 
piety.  It  happened  tliM,  whan  he  waa  uhout  nine  years 
old.  a  rertain  priest,  traTelling  in  tboee  parts,  came  to 
llieir  door  and  saked  hoapitalily.  He  was  lund[y  n^ 
roived  and  lodged  for  some  nme  in  their  honse.  Tliis 
man  had  been  a  great  trareller,  and  had  passed  throngh 
many  vicissitudea  of  fortune.  His  conversation  awfi- 
ened  in  the  child  that  love  of  adventare  which  dislin- 
gniahed  bim  for  so  many  years  of  his  life.  He  ran 
away  from  his  father's  cottage  in  company  with  this 
priest,  who.  after  Bednring  him  from  his  borne,  aban- 
doned him  on  tbe  road  to  Madrid,  and  left  him 
village  near  Oropesa,  in  Castile. 

Tlie  boy,  thus  foisaken,  hired  himself  to  a  e 
in  whose  service  he  remained  sorao  years ;  he  then 
listed  in  the  army,  served  iu  the  wars  between  Chai 
V.  and  Fnncig  1.,  and  became  a  brave,  reckless,  prof- 
ligate soldier  of  fortune.  Once  or  twice  the  impres- 
ainil)  of  piety,  early  infused  iulo  his  mind  by  his  good 
mother,  vrere  revived  throngh  the  reveraes  be  met  with. 
He  was  wounded  almost  to  death  on  one  occasion ;  and 
on  another,  having  been  placed  as  sentinel  over  some 
booty  taken  From  (he  enemy,  which,  In  one  of  his  rev- 
eries, he  snfTered  to  be  carried  off,  his  commanding 
DtiHcer  ordered  him  to  he  hanged  upon  the  spot :  the 
ropo  was  already  round  his  neck,  when  another  officer 


of  one  I 


8T.  JUAN  DE  DIOS.  J79 

of  high  raok,  paaiing  by,  was  toncbed  wiih  compauion, 
and  inCerTered  to  save  his  life,  bat  anlj  on  condition 
that  he  should  imraediatelj  quit  the  camp.  Joan  re- 
tamed  to  hia  old  master  at  Oropesa,  and  resided  with 
Mm  aome  years ;  but  his  restless  spirit  again  drove  him 
forth  into  the  world,  and  he  joioed  the  levies  which  the 
Coant  d'Oropesa  had  raised  for  the  war  in  Hungary. 
(a.  d.  1533.)  He  remained  in  the  army  till  the  troopa 
were  sent  back  to  Spain  and  disbanded ;  then,  after 
paying  his  devotions  at  the  shrine  of  Compostella,  he 
lelnmed  to  bis  native  village  of  Uonte-Hayor.  Here 
he  learned  that,  in  conseqnence  of  hie  flight,  his  modier 
and  his  fether  had  both  died  of  grief.  Bemorse  took 
■uch  possession  of  his  mind  aa  to  shake  his  reason.  He 
regarded  himself  as  a  parricide.  He  determined  that 
the  rest  of  bis  life  should  be  one  long  expiation  of  his 
filial  ingnttilnde  and  disobedience.  Not  knowing  for 
the  present  how  to  gain  a  living,  he  hired  himself  as 
shepherd  \a  a  rich  widow,  Doila  Leonora  de  Znaiga, 
who  had  a  large  farm  near  the  dcy  of  Seville.  In  this 
dtoation  he  gave  bimself  up  to  prayer  and  to  metUla- 
tion  on  his  past  life.  The  vices,  the  misery,  the  suffer- 
ing of  every  kind  which  he  bad  witnessed  had  left  a 
deep  impression  upon  a  character  which  appears  to  have 
been  singularly  endowed  by  nature,  and  perpetually  at 
Strife  with  the  circumstances  of  his  position.  He  con- 
trasted the  treatment  of  the  miserable  poor  with  that  of 
the  horses  in  Count  d'Oropesa's  stable ;  even  the  sheep 
of  his  flock  were  better  cared  for,  he  thought,  than 
maliitudes  of  wretched  souls  fhr  whom  Christ  had  died. 
These  reflections  pressed  upon  him  until  at  length  he 
quilted  the  service  of  his  mistress,  and  repaired  to 
Morocco  with  the  intention  of  ministering  to  the  cap- 
tives amongst  the  Moors  -  he  even  aspired  to  the  glory 
of  martyrdom.  Being  come  to  Gibraltar,  he  found  there 
a  Portngnese  nobleman,  who,  with  his  wif^  and  fbor 
daughters,  had  been  banisbed  to  Ceuta,  on  the  opposite 
«oast  of  Africa :  he  thought  he  conld  not  do  better  than 
engage  in  the  service  of  this  nafortonaie  family.    At 


'D8  OF  Tilt:  MOyASTlC  0 
■Dd  ditwn  of  the  grandeur  of  the  Moors,  ever  think  of 

Juan  ds  Dioa  died  at  Gruuda  in  ISRO.  He  vat 
beiUiliHl  b}-  Urban  VIII.,  and  cauooixed  b;  Alexaadcr 
VIIl.  in  1690.  In  Franr^  he  was  honored  ai  "  Ic  bien- 
beoreBi  Jean  du  Dion,  Pere  des  PanTrea." 

There  are  few  gooil  piotnrea  of  this  eidnt,  bnt  108117 
hundreds  of  bad  ona.  Fonncrly.  orory  hospital  "dclla 
Hiserin>rdrB,"  and  everj  ■■  Maison  de  Charil^,"  con- 
tained hJB  effi^  in  aome  fbnn  or  olher.  In  general  he 
ii  represented  wearing  the  dark-brown  tonic,  liood.  and 
large  falling  rape  of  iho  Capoi^hioi ;  he  has  a  long 
beard,  and  holds  in  his  hand  a  pomegranate  (pomo-dt- 
Granada),  eannonnted  by  a  croes,  a  poor  beggar  kneel- 
ing at  hia  feet.  He  is  thns  represenled  in  the  colossal 
(latna  of  while  tnaible  which  aiands  in  Si.  Peter's. 
l^ctores  of  him  often  exhibit  in  ttie  background  Che 
interior  of  a  hoapital,  with  rows  of  beds. 

The  odI^  representation  of  this  good  saint  which  can 
rank  liigli  as  n  work  of  art  19  a  famoue  picture  by  Mn- 
riUo,  painteil  for  the  church  of  the  "  Caritad  "  al  Seville. 
In  a  dark  atormy  night,  Joan  ia  seen  alaggeriug  — 
almost  sinkiDg  —  under  the  waigbt  of  a  poor  dying 
wretch,  whom  he  ia  canring  to  hia  hospital.  An  angel 
anslaina  him  on  hia  way.  "  The  dark  fitrm  of  the  bur- 
den, and  the  sober  gray  frock  of  the  bearer,  are  dimly 
Been  in  the  darknees,  tbrongh  which  thegloHone  conute- 
nance  of  the  seraph,  and  hia  rich  yellow  drapei^,  tell 
like  a  burst  of  eunfihine."  (Artists  of  Spain,  p.  860.) 
Mr.  Ford  sajs  of  this  picmte,  "  eiinal  to  Rembrandt  in 
powerful  efR^ct  of  light  and  shade."  I  have  heard 
others  say,  that  in  power  of  another  hind,  appealing 
irrosiatjbly  to  the  heart,  it  also  excels;  they  could  not 
look  up  10  it  without  being  iDOred  to  tears.  The 
companion  picture  was  the  "  St.  Elizabeth  "  already 
described.  The  laller,  rescued  from  clie  Louvre,  was 
□n  its  way  to  Seville,  to  be  restored  to  tliu  church 
whence  it  had  beeo  stolen  ;  but,  detained  lij  government 
offiinali,  it  now  hangs  on  the  walla  of  the  Academy  at 


ST.  FELIX  DE  CAUTALICIO.  jgj 

Uadrid,  "  and  no  pals  Sister  of  duritj,  on  her  vaj  to 
hsr  labors  of  lore  in  the  hoBpital,  implons  the  protec- 
tion, or  IB  cheered  by  the  esample,  of  the  gentle  St. 
Elizabeth."  Il  ie  eome  comfort  that  "  The  Charity  of 
San  Juan  de  Dios  "  ramainB  in  ita  original  Bicoacioa. 

We  do  not  in  this  counOy  decorate  hospitals  and  aay- 
lams  with  pictures,  —  unless,  perhaps,  oslenCatious  por- 
trails  of  Lord  Majore,  donors,  and  titled  governors ; 
otherwise  Iwoald  recommend  asasubjeut,  "Dr.  Joha- 
■ou  canTing  home.  Id  his  anns,  the  wretched  woman 
ha  had  found  senseless  in  the  su?eec  "  :  —  even  though  it 
might  not  equal  in  power  Murillo  or  Bembrandc,  the 
■entimaat  and  the  purpose  woald  be  sufficient  to  couse- 


8r.  Felix  db  Cahtalioio  is  chiefly  romoriuvble  for 
hsrlng  been  the  first  saint  of  the  Order  of  the  Capu- 
chins, and  figures  only  in  the  convents  of  that  Order. 
He  was  bom  at  Citta  Docale,  in  Umbria,  in  the  year 
1513,  of  very  poor  parents.  He  betook  himself  to  a 
Capuchin  cooveat,  aod  was  at  first  received  aa  a  lay 
brother;  but  afterwards  look  the  habit,  and  was  seat  to 
the  Capuccini  at  Rome ;  here  he  passed  forty-five  years 
of  his  life  in  the  daily  mission  of  begging  for  his  con- 
Teut.  It  was  his  task  to  provide  the  bread  and  the 
wine,  and  it  was  observed  that  there  had  never  been 
known,  either  before  or  after,  such  an  abundaoce  of 
these  provisions  as  during  Iiis  time.  His  prayers  and 
penances,  hia  submission  and  chanty,  were  the  admira- 
tion of  bis  own  commuDitj,  and  at  length  of  all  Some. 
He  died  in  the  year  1 587.  The  Capuchins  were  extreme- 
ly anxious  to  have  bim  canonized,  and  the  usnal  mira- 
cles were  not  wanting  as  proofe  of  his  beatitude;  but  it 
was  not  till  the  year  1625  Chat  Urban  VIII..  at  the 
urgent  entreaty  of  hia  brother,  Cardinal  Borberiui,  who 
had  himself  been  a  Capuchin,  consented  to  give  him  a 
place  in  the  Calendar  of  Saints. 

At  this  time  the  Italian  schools  of  painting  were  on 
the  decline,  and  the  Spanish  achoob  ritiog  into  pn. 


I 


;S6  LEGf:XDS  Or    THE  SlO.VASTtC  OHDERSt 

fan,  tftet  some  marmciring,  wididreir  hii  pmjecu  J 
Uiipition,  and  raasenleil  to  ^y  die  1600  i^: 
oihier  400  huTing  beon  paid  in  advance.  And  i 
Wgui  Iwtweeq  the  two  poinleis 
fercnl  kind.  Annibal  insisud  on  giving  1200  ci 
lo  Albeno,  and  keeping  only  4iX)  for  hiweelf,  n ' ' 
ani'l  OTcrpnid  him  for  the  little  he  had  exeoated,  i 
fcw  BOrry  dmwings  {Miatri  dinrgni)  not  worth  llle  mod 
Altono,  not  to  bo  outdone  in  generosiij,  i 
irtoed  to  take  anything;  aapng,  that  he  w* 
mastvr'g  creatura  snd  disciple,  working  aoder  hii  onl 
and  prafltitig  bj  bis  fnetructioDB.  At  length  Ehey 
ngrced  lo  submit  lo  the  arbitration  of  Hcrrcra,  who 
dudded  that  the  1600  (.-rowne  should  be  equalty  diridcd 
helvfocQ  them  :  Oven  then  it  was  with  die  greatest  dl" 
cully  Chat  ADnlba!  could  be  pcreuadod  ti 
rimre ;  and  when  ho  did,  it  was  with  a  c 
timidity  and   baahfulness,  - 


Soon  aftenmrda  poor  AonibnJ  died;  the  figure  d 
San  Diego  over  the  altar  bein){  one  or  his  last  w 
Albano,  Inred  h8rd1ywy,beciiiDe  subsequently  one  4 
the  most  bmouB  pointers  of  Che  Bologna  schooL 

I  hare  given  this  eluirining  anecdote,  as  related'll 
MalTasia,  because  it  ta  in  such  delighlfnl  contrast 
(he  stories  of  the  mutual  jeolauaica,  poisonings, 
stabbing!  which  disgraced  Uiat  jjertod  of  Italian 

With  r^ard  to  the  frescos,  dicy  were  taken 
the  wbIIs  when  tho  Church  of  San  Gincomo  Wac 
Btroyed  a  few  years  ago,  and  transrcrred  to  canvas, 
saw  them  in  thia  state  when  at  Home  in  If  "      "" 
IB  the  following  subfecta  :  — 


1.  8hq  Diego  takes  the  FrancNcan  hnhit,  S.  A 
mother  ehnE  her  child  in  an  oven,  and  li^ihted  a  ficQ 
under  hj  misiakc;  the  aidnt,  in  pity  to  the  mother, 
takes  out  the  child  nuinjiircd.  S.  Travelling'  wiih  an- 
other lay-brother,  and  being  ready  to  perish  with  hunger 
hy  die  way,  an  angel  spreoda  for  them  a  repast  of  bread 


ST.   VINCENT  BE  PAULE.  587 

Bod  wine.  4.  He  reetorea  eight  to  a  bliud  boy,  b^ 
touching  his  ejes  with  oil  trom  &  Ump  suspended  before 
an  altar  of  the  MadoDna.  (Thie  waa  in  some  reBpecia 
imitated,  but  far  suTpassed,  bj  DomenJctiiao,  in  hii 
freeoo  of  the  Epileptic  Boy.)  5.  San  Diego,  being  the 
port«r,  or,  ob  some  saj,  the  eook  of  his  convent,  ia 
delected  by  tho  guardian  giving  away  bread  to  the 
poor,  and,  on  opening  hia  tunic,  finds  his  loares  con- 
verted into  roacs  (an  impertinent  yeraiott  of  the  i»BU- 
tifiil  legend  of  St.  Elizabeth). 

There  were  some  others,  hot  I  do  not  well  remember 
what  they  were.  The  whole  series  wa«  eograved  at 
the  time  bj  Guilain. 

I  will  niention  one  or  two  other  picttuw  of  thii 
■aiut. 

By  Murillo.  I.  San  Diego,  bearing  a  cross  npon 
his  shonlders,  holds  up  his  tunic  fall  of  rosea.  2.  He 
kneels,  in  the  act  of  blessing  a  copper  pot  of  broth. 
3.  San  Diego,  while  cookiog  for  the  brotherhood,  U 
npt  in  ecatasj,  and  raised  abore  the  earth,  while  angels 
are  performing  his  task  of  boiling  and  frying  below. 
Three  eccleaiaaiics  CQioriog  on  the  left,  regard  this  mir- 
acle with  devoat  admiration.  (Sold  from  the  SoulC 
Gal.,  May  20,  1B52.)  4.  San  Biego  stands  fixed  in 
devotion  before  a  cross.  (Agnado  Gal.)  Behind  Di- 
ego, and  observing  him,  ia  seen  the  Cardinal  Archbishop 
of  Pampeluna  with  several  friars ;  the  caneaiDmal6 
vulgarity  of  the  head  of  Diego,  with  the  eiproaaion  of 
earnest  jet  stQpid  devotion,  as  tine  aa  possible,  —  as  fiiM 
in  its  way,  perhaps,  as  the  Saa  Juan  de  Dioe.  Bnt 
now  I  have  done  vrith  San  Diego  d'Alcalk 


We  mnst  be  careful  not  to  confound  St.  Ftands  da 
Paula  with  8t.  Vincbnt  d&  Paple,  who  wears  the 
habit  of  a  Cordelier,  &nd  not  of  a  Miniioe.  He  also 
was  very  popular  in  France.  Those  who  have  been  at 
Paris  will  lemember  the  faEnlliar  eCBgies  of  this  amiable 


I 
I 


jM  LEGENDS  Of  TBS  MOffABTIC  OSDESS. 


■Miu,  wUb  hi*  foundling  tiahj  in  hii  arau  or  lylag  at 
111*  fiwi:  He  WM  iho  tint  iimitator  of  hMpiuIs  tor 
ilniatod  cliildren  (tliat  is  lo  saj,  ihe  lirst  in  France; 
tbere  liad  oxified  one  st  Florenii)  from  the  thtneentJi 
conturj').  and  the  founder  of  the  Slitera  of  Cliaritj. 
Iln  wni  born  in  l&TG  at  Puj,  in  Gasron}',  not  far  from 
Ihe  fbot  oF  the  PjreDees.  Uis  paronti!  were  email  farm- 
en.  and  be  began  life  as  his  father's  shepherd.  The 
coDtemplativo  «weetiie«s  aud  piety  of  his  disposition, 
tumething  which  distiu);ul8hed  him  from  the  peasants 
around,  iDdDi«d  hig  father  toaand  him  for  edncation  to 
■  convent  of  Cordelieis  ;  and  he  assumed  the  habit  of 
the  Franci«con  Order  at  the  ajre  of  twenty.  The  next 
ten  yean  were  spent  as  a  tiieological  atudeot  and  a 
tutor,  and  hia  life  wouid  probably  have  passed  in  tbe 
quiet  routine  of  I'onventunI  duties  if  a  straoge  accident 
bad  not  opened  to  him  s  iar  •ridef  csreer.  He  bad  oc- 
casion to  go  to  MarsciUea  to  transact  aoiae  aSurs,  and, 
returning  by  aea,  the  small  bnrk  was  attached  midway 
in  the  Gulf  of  Lyons  by  some  Ab-ican  pirates  ;  and 
Vincent  do  Paulo,  with  others  on  board,  was  carried  to 
Tunis,  and  there  sold  for  a  akve. 

YincGnt  spent  two  years  in  capdvity,  paesing  from 
the  hand  of  one  master  lo  that  of  another.  The  last  lo 
whom  he  was  sold  was  a  ranegado,  whose  wife  took 
pily  on  hiru.  Slic  would  occaaionally  visit  him  when 
lie  was  digging  in  their  field,  and  wonld  speak  kindly 
words  to  him.  One  day  she  desired  him  to  sing  to  her. 
He,  remembering  his  sacred  profession,  and  at  tlie  same 
time  ihiokiog  of  his  home  and  country,  hurst  into  tears, 
and  when  bo  foand  voice  he  began  to  sing  "  Bi/  tie 
uotm  of  Babglon  VK  sui  doom  and  viepi,"  and  then,  as 
if  taking  heart,  ho  ended  with  the  triumphant  strain  of 
the  "  iSo/ire  Begiiia."  Eilber  by  his  songs  or  his  preach- 
ing, this  woman  was  turned  to  the  true  faith.  She 
converted  the  husband,  nod  they  all  escaped  together 
and  htnded  at  Aigueainorios.  Vincent,  having  placed 
hia  converts  in  a  religious  house,  repaired  to  Rome, 
whence  he  was  despatched  by  Paul  V.  on  some  ecde- 


ST.    VINCENT  DE  PAULS. 


of  whl 

passion  had  been  slivnKlj  extited  by  the  condition  of 
the  wretched  gallej-slaves  at  MarGeillcs.  He  himself 
h&d  Ustcd  of  chains  aud  slaver/  ;  he  himself  taew  what 
it  was  to  be  Eii:k  and  neglec^tcd  and  tinendlcss.  He  be- 
gan  by  Tisiting  the  prisons  where  criminals  were  con- 
fined before  they  were  sent  off  to  the  galleys ,  he  tieheld, 
to  ase  his  own  expressions,  "  des  malhenrcux  renfermft 
dans  de  profondes  et  obscuruu  eaverues,  nisnges  de 
vermille,  att^nu&  de  langueur  et  de  panTret^,  et  Bn- 
tiferemem  negliges  ponr  le  torps  el  pour  rame."  Tba 
good  man  was  thrown  into  great  perplexity;  for  on  the 
one  hand  he  could  not  reuoocile  snub  a  state  of  thing* 
with  the  religion  of  Christ,  which  it  was  his  profbsuon 
to  uphold  and  to  preach,  and  on  the  other  hand  h& 
coald  not  contraveae  the  iaws  of  justice.  He  knew  not 
how  to  deal  with  rufflaas  so  abased,  who  b^an  by  r»- 
sponding  Co  his  efforts  for  their  good,  only  by  outrage 
and  blaspheniy;  and  he  was  himself  poor  and  pennilesa, 
a  mendicant  friar.  Yet  this  precursor  of  Howard  tlie 
Good  did  not  iose  coprage ;  he  preached  to  them,  com- 
forted them,  begged  for  their  maintenance.  His  next 
efibrts  were  for  the  wretched  giria  ^»ndoned  in  the 
Btreeia  of  Paris,  many  of  whom  he  reclaimed,  and  ee- 
tabiished  the  hospital  of  "  La  Madelaine  "  to  receiva 
t^iem.  A  few  years  afterwaids  lie  insljloted  the  Order 
of  the  Sis[«rs  of  Charity,  an  order  of  nuns  ■■  qui  n'ont 
point  de  monast^res  que  Ics  maisons  des  malodea,  pour 
cellules  qu'une  chambre  de  loaage,  pour  chapelle  que 
I'eglise  de  leur  paroisse,  pour  cloitre  qne  les  mes  de  la 
ville  et  les  ealles  des  hupitaux,  poor  clBtnre  que  I'obtf- 
issance,  pour  grille  que  la  crainte  de  Dieu,  et  pour  yoile 
qu'nne  siunte  et  exacte  modestie,  et  cependaot  elles  m 
pr^servent  de  la  contagion  dn  vice,  elles  fbut  genner 
partout  BUT  lours  pas  la  vertn."  This  beautifiil  descrip- 
tton  in  applicable  lo  this  day; — to  this  day  the  Imli- 
tutioQ  remains  one  of  tbose  of  which  Cbristeudoin  hM 


J90  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDEBi 

looM  nuson  lO  ba  [irond.  The  mles  and  ro^lal 
which  Vinccni  do  Punln  drew  np  for  this  d  " 
WM*  ailmirnble.  and  within  a  few  jean  anerwarda-4 
)i«it  tbe  gBtJafiictioii  la  aec  ihese  CDngregadoiu  of  chatitj' 
■pring  up  in  nil  the  cities  of  Franco, 

Ono  of  the  mcMt  aingular  things  in  ilie  histor;  of  Ihia 
saint  ii  his  iuterrourse  with  the  hsoghlj  Rit'helieu,  with 
wliom  ho  remaiood  on  terms  of  fricndabip  till  tlie  death 
of  the  canliiiBl  in  IMS.  Tho  DilloniDg  rear  he  was 
called  froiii  the  iiednidM  of  the  j.-fllley-sUveB  and  tho 
eick  ill  tbe  liospiud,  to  attend  Xioaw  \IIL  in  his  Ust 
muioeiits.  In  1548  ho  iDatlTutod  the  hospital  rorfomid- 
lingt '  ha  had  been  accuetomcd  to  pick  np  the  poor 
cliililrcn  out  of  tbe  atrcel,  und  cany  them  liome  either 
to  his  charitable  Sisters  or  some  of  the  ladies  of  rank 
who  aided  him  in  hlE  good  works  ;  bat  these  wrelclui 
orphans  accumulated  on  his  hands,  and  at  lengttaV 
succeeded  in  fonudiug  "  la  M^soo  des  Enfiins  tronva 
which  he  placed  ander  the  saperintendence  of  the  1^ 
tera  of  Charity.  

When  the  wars  of  the  '•  Fronde  "  broke  out,  he  was 
evcrjwhow  found  miniBiering  to  tho  Buffbrors  and 
prcachiug  peace. 

AmongBt  tbe  eharitablo  projects  of  Vincent  de  Panle 
was  one  to  assist  the  Catholics  of  Ireland,  then  horribly 
nppiBSscd ;  and  he  csrriod  hie  eniliusiaBm  so  far  as  to 
foi^t  his  peaceful  and  sacred  profession,  and  endear- 
ored  to  persuade  Kicheliea  to  send  tioopa  into  that 
cauiitry,  oitering  to  raise  a  hundred  thousand  crowns 
lowards  their  pay.  Bichelien  coulcnted  himsolf  with 
emiling  at  the  reqnest ;  perhaps  also  gave  him  s 


o  be  content  with  looking  after  I 


s  of  Charily, 


insiaad  of  meddling  with   the  angry  politics  of  tha 


The  entbnsiai 


n  with  which  this  e 


honorable  to  the  people  who  had  given  him,  by  comn 
consent,  the  name  of  '■  I'lntBudant  de  la  Providenca," 
Pice  dea  FauTres."     He  died  at  St.  Lazare,  i 


8T.  JOHN  CAPiaTBANO. 


The  effigies  or  St.  ViDcent  de  P&ale  which  meet  at 
in  the  chari^ljcs  of  Paris,  and  more  particalarly  in  ths 
msgntliceat  church  lately  dedicated  (o  him  (ia  1844), 
represent  him  in  his  Franciscan  habit,  generally  with 
a  new-born  infant  io  his  arms,  and  a  Sister  of  Charity 
kneeling  at  his  feec.  We  have,  fortnnaiely,  authentic 
portraiu  of  (he  man  ;  and  ic  is  a  pleaanre  to  feel  thac 
tho  boQOTolanl  feamree,  the  bright  clear  eye,  the  broad 
forehead,  and  tho  silver  hair  and  beard,  fill  up  the  ont- 
lina  Huggiatcd  by  the  imagination. 

Over  the  entrance  of  hia  church  at  Paris  is  a  fine 
circatar  window  of  stained  glass,  representing  St.  Tin- 
cent  surrounded  by  tlie  Sisteis  of  Charley. 


St.  Pktgb  op  Alcantara,  one  of  the  latest  of  the 
canonized  Franciscans,  was  tmm  at  Alcantara  in  Es- 
tramadnra,  in  1499,  and,  alter  a  long  life  of  ganctific»- 
tion,  died  in  1 562  j  he  was  canonized  by  Clemeut  IS., 
1 66B.  Of  this  friar  we  hare  the  ofl-repeated  legend  of 
walking  on  the  water,  throngh  trust  in  God.  About 
the  time  he  was  canonized,  Clandio  Coelio  painted  an 
exceedingly  Hae  picture  of  this  subject.  {Haoicii  Gal.) 
The  saint  appeoiB  waJking  on  the  lea,  with  a  terrified 
lay-brother  at  his  side :  pointing  up  to  heaven,  be 
calmly  bids  him  tmst,  like  Peter,  in  dirine  aid.  The 
picture  is  liie-size,  and  struck  me  as  admirably  fine,  — 
dramatic,  without  eitaggetation.  Another  l>eaacifnl 
picture  of  this  saint,  by  Murilio,  was  in  the  Agoado 
Gallery ;  it  represents  him  kneeling  at  his  devotiona, 
and  the  Holy  Dove  hovering  over  his  head. 

St.  John  Capibtbaho  is  only  met  with  in  late  pict- 
ures. At  the  time  that  all  Europe  was  thrown  into 
consienuuiou  by  the  ciqtture  of  Constantinople  by  the 
Turks,  the  popes,  Bngeniui  IV.,  NIcoIm  T.,  and  Hui 


)9a  LEGENDS  OF  THE  UO.KASTtC  OROKRSi 

IL,  DDdeii>or«d  lo  hi  on  foot  « rrnsode  for  tbe  deft 
of  ChHscendom.  anil  epul  forth  this  eloqutADl  and  ei 
liulii;  friw  to  prawh  thronch  Enrope. 

At  the  tiege  of  Belgrade,  where  MahomFl  inut  re- 
pabnl  by  the  brnve  HnngariinE  nnder  John  Corvinna 
(a.  d,  1465),  the  FranrucBa  preacher  was  cverywhen 
Dvcii  with  his  rmciflx  in  his  h&nd,  enrourHgiuj;  l! 
troops,  and  even  leading  them  on  against  the  iDfida' 
He  died  ttie  aame  jear,  and  was  canonized  bj  A' ' 
oniler  VUI..  in  1690,  ■  few  ysara  after  the  deUven 
uF  Vienna  froni  the  Turks  in  1683,  and  it 
tkin  of  that  event 

The  proper  sctribnte  of  this  saint  is  the  cnidfi:^fl 
the  Btandaixi  with  the  cn»l.     In  the  little  FranciMM 
Predolla  {an  eorlf  work  of  Raphael,  in  the  Galletyq 
Lord  Ward),  the  fignre  with  the  siandard  ia  atyled,  i 
the  aecouDt  of  the  pi<-ture,  "  San  Giovanni  Captstn 
bnt  hating  been   painted  before  his  ranonizatii 
reprveenta,  I  think.  St.  Antony  of  Padoa.     A  colossal 
statue  of  St.  John  Capigtrano  sta.ndB  on  the  ex 
the  uithvtlral  nt  Vienna,  a  very  appropriate  « 
he  has  a  standard  in  one  band,  a  cross  in  the  other, « 
tramples  a  turhaned  Turk  under  his  feet. 

St.  Peteb  RsGiLATo  of  Valladolid  is  another 
Franeiaean  saint,  who  appears  in  the  late  Italian  and 
Spanish  picmrea  pmnted  for  tlie  Order.  He  was  re- 
markable only  for  the  eslreme  sanctity  of  liia  life  and 
hia  "sablime  gift  of  prayer."  He  died  at  Aquilerl 
in  the  proviure  of  Osma,  in  Spain,  i  ' 
canoniied  by  Benedict  XtV.  in  1746. 

Before  conclndinc  these  notices  of  the  Francis 
worthies  connected  with  art,  1  most  mentjon  St,  Cath- 
BRINK  OF  BoLOONA,  failed  also  Santa  Calerina  ds* 
Vigri;  for,  although  one  of  the  latest  who  were  formall]' 
ranoniaed,  she  had  been  ynncrated  previously  in  he 
own  city  for  nearly  two  centutiea  under  the  title  of  I> 


jwnera  . 

ii 

aeiad^^^H 
■eryfl^^^H 

M 

tber  I 


TEE  DOmtflCANS.  393 

She  was  of  a  noble  famil}',  nnd  early  placed  in  the 
conrc  of  Fermra  as  mnid  of  honor  to  the  FrincesB  Mar- 
garet d'Este."  After  Ihe  marriage  of  the  princeaa,  from 
motives  and  feelings  which  are  not  clearlj  expluoed, 
she  entered  a  coni'ent  of  Poor  Clares,  where  Bho  became 
distingnishcd  not  only  for  the  sanctity  and  humility  of 
her  life,  nliieh  raised  hor  to  the  rank  of  sbbeae  at  an 
early  age,  but  also  for  a  talent  for  painting.  Several 
sperimcns  of  her  art  are  preserved,  it  ia  said,  in  the 
churches  and  convents  at  Bologna.  I  hare  seen  bat 
one,  — the  flgnre  of  Si.  Ursula  (v.  L^end  of  St.  Ur- 
sula), which  has  been  inserted  in  the  first  series  of  this 
work.  It  is  painted  in  distemper  on  panel;  the  bee 
mild  and  sweet,  but.  from  the  quantity  of  gilding  and 
retouching,  it  is  difficult  to  judge  of  the  original  style 
and  exeeaiion  of  the  picture. 

In  a  small  chapel  in  her  convent  at  Bologna  they 
still  preserve,  and  exhibit  to  strangers,  the  black  and 
shrivelled  remains  of  Santa  Caterina  de'  Tigri,  dieeeed 
out  anrnptooualy  in  brocade,  gold,  and  jewels.  And 
in  the  Academy  is  a  picture  by  Morina,  in  which  she 
alonda  with  St.  Stephen  and  St  Laurence,  wearing  her 
Franciscan  habit  and  veiled.  Her  proper  attribntea 
would  be,  perhaps,  her  palette  and  pencils ;  but  I  have 
never  seen  her  so  represented. 

The  Douinicans. 


bBrolns  of  Lord  Bjrr>n>  poem),  two  daogbttfra.  drinB,  -^  Lucia  sod 
Qlsevra.    Tbe  prtoceu  Mugaret  nMntLonal  here  miut  hava  been 

<HIe«U  RotHrlD  HalBtula,  Lord  of  Blmlol, "  t  cella  tun  amtiij. 

(ORlD."  Who  koDn  but  tbU  thli  lidr.  who  ooBTerlcd  faer  hni- 
tand  late  a  ft^nt  bj  trjlnf  bli  patLvDoe,  0117,  bj  a  iLidUh  pzo^ 
«M  bavaiBl«aillnthsb«aBoaUono(li«rauilariuuHrI 


m 


lEGEXDS  OF  TEE  MOfTASTIC  OSDER&M 


\a  *ome  ot  ihe  greodest  works  nhivh  luTe  been  ci 
cretod  Id  uLcred  purposes  siace  tha  revival  of  pail 
•nii  nculjituTv.  The  oaasc  a  not  to  bo  ounliutal] 
ibcir  poputoril;,  wUidi  never  aeems  to  have  equa 
that  of  St.  rr«Di.'is  sad  bis  followers;  nor  to 
Ijriialer  riiJiea  and  maniGceDra  as  pauona  ;  bat  Ic 
prr-ciniQeiico  a»  artists.  Tbe;  prodafcd  from  I 
own  mmraunit;  two  of  the  most  excelling  painten 
have  drawn  tlicir  inspiration  from  religious  influt 
—  Angelico  da  Ficsolc,  and  Barlolomeo  della  Foe 
ur  llicse  two  cclcliraled  (rian  1  have  already  spoken,! 
tlicir  relntion  to  the  general  hisloiy  sod  progreee  of  af 
I  sliould  rail  tbom  emphalicallj'  rdigioua  painters,  a 
ruiitmdiiitinction  lo  tbo  mero  diitrdi  painteri.  It ' 
tliut.  as  Domiaicans,  they  worked  for  the  glori£ 
of  tlieir  own  Order,  and  ttio  dceomtioo  of  their  o 
ell  arches  and  convents;  no  doubt  they  hod  a  sbaie  9 
tliat  aprit-de-rorja  whith  clmnttteriipd  more  0 
all  tho  religiouB  communtticG,  and  most  capednlly  d 
Dominicans:  but  had  they  worked  with  nt 
friim  no  purer  inspinidon,  their  pictures  wonld  not 
have  rctnainiid  to  this  daf  the  delight  and  wonder  of 
tha  world,  —  could  not  have  the  power,  even  now,  to 
seize  on  our  sympathies,  to  iDfl.usDce  us  throi^h  our 
heat  feoHngs.  Tbcj  do  so  stiil,  because,  however  dif- 
fering in  other  respects,  they  were  in  this  alike,  —  that 
eneh  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  sanctity  of  his  vo. 
calioo  ;  and  did,  in  Iwart  and  sonl,  and  in  devont  Ruth 
and  earnestness,  dedicate  himself  to  the  service  of  God 
and  the  teaching  of  men  :  and  as  it  wait  Said  of  Angelico 
that  every  piclnra  ho  painted  was  "an  act  of  prayer," 
through  which  hia  own  pnre  spirit  held  communion 
with  A  better  and  a  purer  world,  so  it  might  be  said  of 
3arlolomeo,  with  his  bolder  genius  aod  more  ample 
uieans,  that  every  picture  he  painted  was  na  an  anlliem 
of  pr^se  sung  to  the  peolhig  organ,  and  lifting  op  goal 
and  sense  at  once,  like  a  divine  strain  of  harmony. 

Ndther  of  them  worked  for  mouej-,  though  even  9 
thnr  lifetime  the  sale  ofilieir  works  enriched  Ihmrai 


TEE  DOSrifflCASa.  39S 

venta :  nor  for  bme; — that  "infinniCy  of  noble  miodB" 
had  Dot  penetrated  into  their  cslls,  whatever  other  infirm- 
itiea  might  be  there.  Even  the  exaltation  of  their  com- 
munitj  was  present  in  their  minds  bs  b  secondary,  not 
as  a  primary,  ohjeet.  The  result  baa  been,  that  the 
Doraimcaoa,  at  all  times  less  popnlar  as  an  Order,  and 
93  subjects  less  poetical  and  interesting  than  the  Fran- 
ciscane,  are  important  in  their  relation  to  art  tlirongh 
the  consummate  beauty  of  some  of  the  works  in  which 
they  are  represented.  No  pictures  painted  for  the  Fran- 
ciscans, however  curious  and  instmctiTe  as  spccimenB, 
however  finished  as  performances,  can  be  compared  with 
those  which  these  inspired  Dominican  painters  execated 
for  the  convents  of  their  Order  at  Florence,  Home,  and 
elsewhere. 

The  habit  I  hare  already  described.  We  find  in 
reCbrence  to  it  the  asnal  legend,  that  the  form  and  eoh^r 
were  dictated  by  the  Blessed  Virgin  herself  in  a  vision 
to  one  of  the  brethren,  a  monk  of  Orleans,  It  is  white 
and  black  :  the  wlute  denoting  purity  of  liie ;  the  biack, 
mortification  and  penance.  Hence,  when  the  Domini- 
cans are  figured  as  dogs  (Domini  Cams),  a  common 
allegory,  thej  are  always  while,  with  patches  of  black- 
In  the  famous  andotberwise  very  remarkable  fresco  of  the 
■'  Church  MJlitant,"  pajnled  hy  Simono  Mcmnii  in  the 
chape!  "degli  Spagnuoli,"  we  see  five  or  six  of  "these 
dogs  of  the  Lord"  engaged  iti  worrying  the  heretics, 
who  figure  OS  wolves  ;  while  two  others  guard  the  flock 
of  the  faithful,  figured  as  sheep,  peacefnily  feeding  at 
the  foot  of  the  pope's  throne,  and  within  the  shadow  of 
the  Chnrch.  A  paiticalar  description  of  the  Other  parts 
of  this  elaborate  composition  may  be  found  in  Kugler. 

There  are  four  principal  saints  who  are  of  nnivenal 
celebrity,  and  are  to  be  found  in  all  the  Dominican 
edifices:  — 

St  Dominick,  OS  patriarch  and  founder  of  the  Order. 

St.  Peter  Martyr,  distinguished  by  the  gash  in  his 
bead.  In  early  pictures  usually  the  companion  or  pen' 
dant  of  St.  iJominicL. 


}9g  LKGKNDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


B  following  l<_ 

' '  a  being  (V]icated  in 
Rpmcnied  in  »n :  — 

"St.  Duminick.  Iieiog  at  Borne,  lisd  a  t 
which  lie  ImIivIiI  Christ,  who  was  nttiag  in  jn 
ftiid  lield  in  hii  hnnd  three  sbnrp  ai 

i  of  tbe  divine  wnuh ;  nna  his  mother  h 
tened  and  threw  horeelf  at  lii*  feet,  and  said,  ' 
woutdit  thon  do,  O  taj  Son?'  and  lie  re[il!ed,  ' 
world  is  80  corrupt  with  pride,  luxury,  and  ai 

D  drairoj  it.*  Then  the  Blrased  'V 
wept  in  Bupplication  before  him,  and  she  said,  '  O  tdj 
Son,  hare  pilj  upon  mankind  t '  and  he  replied,  ■  Seott 
thou  not  to  what  a  pitch  ihcj  have  carried  their  in- 
iquity?' and  she  said,  ■  O  laj  Eon,  restrajn  thr  wmth 
and  bo  patient  for  a  while,  for  1  have  here  a  bithfiil 
lervant  and  champion,  who  ehall  trarerae  the  whole 
earth  and  subdue  it  lo  thj  dominiot),  and  to  him  I  will 
join  another  who  shall  flglit  valiantlj  in  thj  c 
And  CliriBt  ropliod,  -Be  it  bo!  '  Then  tiie  Tirg 
placed  liefore  him  St.  Dominick  and  St.  FranciB;  a 
our  Lord,  looking  upon  them,  relented  from  hiH  w 

There  are  many  old  prints,  perhaps  alao  picti  _ 
which  appear  la  be  founded  on  this  legend  :  St.  Domi- 
oick  or  St.  Fnineia,  or  both,  are  either  prostrate  on  Iha 
earth,  or  covering  it  with  the  skirts  of  their  habits  or 
mantles,  while  CliriBt  (the  Saviour!)  appears  above  ei 
the  stem  avenger,  armed  to  punish  or  destroy,  widl  It 
Virgin-mother  interceding  at  his  feet. 

Rubens  has  been  sererclj  censured  fbr  a  pro&l 


picture 


of  this  kind,  i 


which  St.  Francis  figfum  as  It 


redeeming  angel,  shielding  the  earth  with  his  e: 
Tobe.     But  Kubeng  did  not  invent  the  subject,  n 
St.  Frauds ;  it  origioal^d,  1  presume,  from  this  chd 
acterietic  vision  of  St.  Dominick,  —  of  whom  w 


ST.  DOmSlCK. 


St.  DoBiinOK. 


mctm  Domlniciu,  FUir  Ordloii  Prsdlalonmi.    Ual.  Bin 
FnlisD.     Saa  DomeaiDO  CalATC^.     Ft.  SaUjt  DomlDlquA, 


Ik  the  days  when  Alexander  UL  was  pope,  and 
Frederic  BurbaroBaa  emperor  of  Oennanj,  Don  Al- 
phonso  IX.  then  ceigniog  in  Castile,  Dominick  ma 
bom  at  CalariigR,  in  the  diocese  of  Osma,  \a  the  kin^ 
dom  of  Castile.  Hia  father  was  of  the  illostrions  familj 
of  Guiinan.  Hia  mother,  Joanna  d'Aia,  wag  abo  of 
noble  birth.  His  appearance  in  the  world  was  attended 
by  the  aanal  miracles.  Before  he  was  bom,  his  tnotber 
dreamed  that  ahe  had  brought  forth  a  black  and  whits 
d<^  carrying  in  his  month  a  lighted  torch.  When  hii 
godmother  held  him  in  her  arma  at  the  font,  she  bebeld 
a  star  of  wonderful  splendor  descend  from  heaven  and 
settle  on  his  brow.  Both  these  pononts  clearly  denoted 
that  the  saint  was  destined  to  be  a  light  to  the  anirerae. 
Moreover,  such  was  his  early  predilection  for  a  lib  of 
penance,  that  when  he  was  only  six  or  seven  jeare  old 
he  would  get  oat  of  his  bed  ta  lie  on  the  cold  eaidi. 
His  parents  sent  bim  to  stndy  theology  in  (he  nniverai^ 
of  Valencia,  and  he  ssaumed  the  habit  of  a  canon  of 
St.  AnguBtine  at  a  very  early  age.  Many  stories  are 
related  of  hiB  youthful  piety,  his  self-indiclod  ansterities, 
and  hia  charity.  One  day  he  met  a  poorwoman  weep- 
ing bitterly  ;  and  wlicn  lie  inquired  the  cause,  she  told 
bim  that  her  only  brother,  her  aole  stay  and  auppon  in 
the  world,  had  been  carried  into  rsptivity  by  the  Moot*. 
Dominick  could  not  lansom  her  brother  \  he  had  given 
away  all  his  money,  and  even  aold  hia  books,  to  relieve 
the  poor ;  but  he  oflered  all  he  eonld,  —  he  ofi^d  op 
bimself  to  be  exchanged  as  a  slave  in  place  of  bw 
brother.  The  woman,  astonished  at  anch  a  proposal, 
fell  upon  her  knees  before  him.  She  refnsed  hia  oCfer, 
bat  ahe  spread  the  fame  of  the  jonng  priest  ftr  and 


I 

I 


4O0  LEGEXDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OSDESS. 


Domiairk  ww  alioat  thirty  when  he  ftecompfwied 
Pre|(o,  bishop  of  Ofiiiii.  on  a  miBEJon  to  Frnnca.  Drego 
wu  wot  there  by  King  Alpbooso  (o  negali&te  a  tnai'' 
rk)^  IwliTecD  hii  nn,  Prince  Ferdinand,  and  the 
daughter  nnd  heirew  of  the  Count  dc  la  Marche.  They 
had  to  poas  throngb  Langnedoc,  where,  at  that  time, 
till!  opiniuns  of  the  Albi^^Ka  were  in  the  ascendani, 
and  Doniinick  wai  icsndBliaed  hy  tliese  hereiical  '-rer- 
crioB."  Their  host  at  Toulouse  being  of  ibis  persuB- 
eion,  Dominiuk  spent  the  whole  night  in  preaching  to 
him  and  his  family.  Such  was  the  efiert  of  liis  argu- 
ments, that  the  nesl  morning  they  made  a  public 
recantation.  This  inddent  fixed  the  vocation  of  the 
futore  saint,  and  Bugge«tcd  ttie  first  idea  of  a  conmiQ- 
nity  of  preachers  for  tlic  conversion  of  herelits. 

The  marriage  being  happilj  arranged,  Dominidi 
soon  sfterwarda  nuido  a  second  joumej  to  France  with 
his  bishop,  accompany inf;  the  ambassadors  who  were 
la  coodact  tbc  younj;  princess  to  Spun,  They  arrived 
JUBI  in  time  to  see  lier  carried  to  her  grave ;  and  the 
sudden  shock  appears  to  have  lofl  a  deep  and  dark  im- 
pression on  the  mind  of  Doniinick.  If  ever  he  had 
indulged  in  views  and  hopes  of  high  ecclesiastical  pre- 
i^rment.  to  which  bin  noble  birth,  his  learning,  his 
already  high  reputation  appeared  to  open  the  way,  sacU 
promptings  of  an  ambitioas  and  oncrgetii!  spirit  were 
Irom  this  lime  extingoiehed,  or  rather  concentrated  into 
a  flume  of  religious  zeal. 

On  a  journey  which  be  made  to  Borne  in  1307,  ho 
ohtnined  the  pope's  permission  to  preach  in  the  Vaudois 
to  the  Albigenaes.  At  that  time  tlie  whole  of  the  Sonth 
of  France  was  distracted  by  the  feuds  between  the 
CatliolicB  and  the  heretics.  As  yet,  however,  there 
was  no  open  war,  and  the  pope  was  satisfied  with  send- 
ing missionaries  into  Lojiguedoc.  Dumioick.  armed 
with  (he  papal  brief,  hastened  thither;  he  drew  up  a 
short  exposition  of  faith,  and  with  this  in  bis  band  he 
undertook  to  dispute  against  the  leaders  of  the  Atbi- 
genaes.     On  one  ocmsion,  finding  them  deaf  to  bis 


ST.  DOiimiCK.  401 

argnmenU,  he  thraw  his  b(>ok  into  the  flsmes,  anA, 
wonderfnl  to  relate  I  it  leaped  three  timei  Ihini  the  lire, 
and  remained  uninjured,  —  vhila  the  booke  vhich  con- 
tained the  doctriaeB  or  the  bereljcs  were  ntterl/  con- 
sumed 1  Bj  tins  extraordinary  miracle  manj  were 
convinced ;  but  otiieis,  throogh  some  etraage  bliDdnen, 
refused  to  beliere  eitber  in  Dominick  or  his  miracles. 

TbeD  \x^a  that  terrible  civil  and  religious  war,  on- 
exampled  in  tbe  annals  of  Europe  for  lis  ferocity. 

What  sharo  Dominick  may  have  had  in  arming  (he 
crusade  i^aiost  ^  miserable  Albigenses  is  itot  ascer- 
tained. His  defenders  allege  that  he  was  struck  with 
horror  by  the  excesses  of  barbarity  then  committed  in 
the  name  and  under  the  bannera  of  the  religion  of 
Christ.  Tbey  assert  positively  that  Dominick  himself 
never  delivered  over  the  heretics  to  the  secular  power, 
and  refused  to  nse  any  wei^rans  i^ainst  them  but  tboae 
of  argument  and  peruoasion.  But  it  remains  au  his- 
torical fact,  that  at  the  battle  of  Muret,  where  twenty 
thousand  of  the  Albigenses  were  massacred  by  the 
troops  of  Simon  de  Monlfort,  Dominick  was  kneeling 
on  an  eminence,  —  some  say  in  a  neighboring  chapel,  — 
wilb  hia  crncifix  io  bis  band,  praying  that  tlie  Church 
might  prevail :  he  has  been  compared  to  Moses  holding 
Dp  the  rod  of  the  Lord  while  the  captains  of  Israel  slew 
their  enemies  with  the  edge  of  the  sword.  "  sparing  not 
the  women  nor  the  little  ones."  That  Dominick,  bow- 
.erer  mistaken,  was  as  perfectly  convinced  as  ever  Moses 
was  of  the  righteousness  of  his  canse  attd  of  the  Divine 
protection,  I  see  no  room  to  doubt ;  tbe  man  was  a 
fanatic,  not  a  hypocrite. 

About  this  time  he  united  with  himself  several  eccle- 
siastics, who  went  abont  barefoot  in  the  habit  of  peiu- 
tents,  exhorting  the  people  to  conform  to  the  Church. 
Tbe  institution  of  the  Order  of  St.  Dominick  epiaog 
out  of  this  association  of  preachers,  bat  it  was  not  onilsd 
under  an  eepedal  rule,  nor  confirmed,  till  samo  yem 
later,  —  by  Pope  Honorins  in  1S16. 

It  WB«  daring  tui  i^ioitni  in  IwigMdoe  thit  St. 


4M  LEGENDS  OF  TUB  MONASTIC  OROEKB. 

Domiaick  iiutinitcd  ihe  bobart.  The  nse  of  a  rhsplei 
of  bwdt,  as  a  memento  of  tbe  iiiiiDh«r  of  prsvetB  re- 
died,  U  of  EsstsrD  oiigui,  and  dates  froni  the  dme  of 
the  Eg)'p(iaD  Anchorites.  Beads  were  also  used  bj  the 
Benwlictinea,  and  sro  to  this  iay  in  use  unoDg  the 
MohnmmrdRD  devotees.  Dominicli  iaTented  a  novel 
BTTWjgemoQt  of  the  chaplet.  and  dedicated  it  lo  the 
honor  and  glory  of  (he  Blessed  Virpn,  for  whom  he 
eniBniunod  a,  man  especial  veneration.  A  romploto 
roeory  consists  of  fifteen  large  and  one  hundred  and 
&fcy  small  beads  ;  tbe  former  reprcsencing  the  namher 
of  Paltr-tiosten,  the  latter  the  nambcr  of  Avt-ilarius. 
In  the  legends  of  the  Madoona  I  shall  hare  mueh  10 
saj  of  the  artistic  lieatmenC  of  the  "mysteries  of  the 
rosarj  " :  meantimo,  with  rcferenee  lo  St.  Dominiek, 
it  will  be  snffipient  to  observe  that  the  rossry  was  re- 
ceived vitb  the  utm(Mt  en^nsinsm,  and  lij  this  simple 
expedient  Dominiek  did  more  to  excite  che  devotion 
of  the  lower  orders,  especially  of  the  womeo,  and  mado 
more  converts,  than  by  all  his  orthodoxy,  learning, 
tigumenta,  and  eloquence. 

In  ISIS,  St.  Dominiek  having  been  charged  by  the 
pope  with  the  care  of  informing  the  femaJe  cooventB  at 
Rome,  persuaded  them  to  accept  of  a  new  Sule  irbicb 
he  drew  up  for  them  :  and  thus  was  inatilntod  [he  Order 
□f  the  DomlnicanNuns.  Tlie institution  of  the  "Third 
Order  of  I'enilence"  followed  soon  afier,  but  it  never 
ivas  so  popalai  as  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Francis. 

From  (his  time  we  find  Dominiek  bnsiiy  employed 
in  alt  the  prineipal  cities  of  Europe,  founding  convents. 
He  was  in  Spain  in  tbe  beginning  of  1219  ;  afterwards 
at  Paris,  whure,  by  permission  of  Blanche  of  Castile, 
tnother  of  St.  Louis,  he  foimded  the  ma);nifieent  con- 
vent of  his  Order  in  the  Rue  St.  Jacques,  from  which  tbe 
Duminicans  in  France  obtained  the  ^neral  name  of 
Jacobins.  At  Paris,  meeting  Alonander  II.  king  of 
Scotland,  ho  at  the  earnest  request  of  that  prince  sent 
some  of  his  brotherhood  into  Scotland,  whence  they 
■prnd  over  tbe  rest  of  Great  Britain. 


ST.  DOMmiCK.  4-3J 

From  Paris  he  Tetamed  to  Italj,  and  took  up  hii 
residsQcs  in  the  principal  convent  of  his  Order  at  Bo- 
logna, making  occasional  journeys  to  snperintend  the 
more  distant  communities.  Wherever  he  travelled  he 
fulfilled  what  he  had  adopted  as  the  pritnarj  daty  of 
hia  institution.  He  preached  wherever  ho  stopped, 
though  it  were  only  to  repose  for  an  hour:  everywhere 
his  sermons  were  listened  to  with  eagernesa.  When  at 
Bologna  he  preached  not  only  every  day,  hut  several 
times  iiv  the  day,  to  dilKirent  congregatioOB.  Fatigue, 
excitcmeiit,  and  the  extreme  heat  of  the  season  brought 
oa  a  raging  fever,  of  which  he  died  in  that  city  od  the 
6th  of  August,  1221.  He  waa  buried  in  a  modest  lomh  in 
a  small  chapel  belonging  to  his  Order;  but  on  his  canon- 
ization by  Gregory  IX.,  in  1233,  his  remains  were  tisns- 
lated  to  the  splendid  shrine  in  which  they  now  repose. 

The  adornment  of  the  "Area  di  San  Domeniro" 
(Bologna)  —  for  80  this  wonderful  tomb  is  styled  in 
Italy  —  was  begun  as  early  as  1225,  when  Niccolb  I^- 
aano  was  aumraoned  to  Bologna  to  design  the  new  church 
of  the  Dominicans,  and  the  model  of  the  shrine  which 
was  10  be  placed  within  it.  The  npper  range  of  ba*. 
relief,  containing  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  saint,  by 
Hiccolb  and  his  school,  dates  from  1225  lo  about  1300. 
The  lower  range,  bj  Alfonso  Lombanli,  was  added 
abont  1525,  in  a  riclter,  less  refined,  bnt  still  most 
admirable  style. 

We  come  now  to  the  varions  representationg  of  this 
bmous  saint ;  and,  first,  it  will  be  interesting  to  com- 
pare  the  innumerable  effigies  which  exist  of  him  with 
the  description  of  his  person  left  by  a  contemporary, 
Snor  Cecilia,  one  of  his  Roman  disciples.  The  accn- 
Tacy  of  the  portrait  has  been  generally  admitted  :  — 

"  In  stature  he  was  of  moderate  size ;  his  Ibatnret 
regular  and  handsome ;  his  complexion  fair,  with  a 
slight  color  in  his  cheek ;  bis  hair  and  beard  inclining 
to  red,  and  in  general  he  kept  his  beard  close  ihavea. 
His  eyee  were  blae,  brilliant,  and  peuetratiiig ;  his  hand* 


I 


404  LEGKSDa  OF  THS  MOSASTIC  ORDERS. 

wens  loD^,  nnil  remiirknhto  for  their  benulj;  tlie  ton«s 
of  Ilia  voii.'e  nwcet,  and  nt  llio  same  lime  powerful  and 
■onoraua.  Be  was  always  platid,  and  ei'eii  cheerful, 
exrapt  when  moved  co  coiDpaseion."  Tbe  writer  adds, 
llutt  ■'  those  wbo  looked  on  liim  euTie«tlj  were  aware 
of  a  cenaio  radUnre  on  hie  brow ;  b  kind  of  light  ul- 
moec  sapamalaritl."  It  is  poGsible  that  the  aClribute 
of  the  star  placed  on  his  hrow  or  oter  hii  head  maj  ba 
derived  froni  this  traditional  portrait,  and,  as  in  other 
iiulancei,  tbe  legend  of  the  godmother  and  the 
afterwards  invented  10  acwiunt  for  it. 

The  devotional  figores  of  St.  Dominitk  always 
aeut  him  in  hii  proper  habit,  —  the  while  1 
eCBpnhuy,  and  long  black  cloak  with  a  ho< 
band  be  bears  tbe  lily ;  in  the  otljer  n  buok. 
on  his  forehead,  or  juet  above  his  beud.  The  dog 
the  Haminf:  torch  in  hia  mouth  is  the  atlribBio  peculiar 
la  him.  Every  one  wlio  lias  been  at  Florence  will 
remtinber  bia  etatne,  with  the  dog  aC  his  side,  over 
the  portal  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Marii.  But  in  pict- 
ures the  dog  is  frequently  omitted,  whereas  the  lily  and 
the  siar  have  become  almost  iodicpctiaable. 

It  is  related  in  one  of  the  Donuoican  legends,  that  > 
true  portrait  of  St.  Dominiek  was  bron^il  down  &om 
heaven  by  St.  Catherine  and  Mary  Magdalene,  and 
presented  to  a  cooveni  of  Dominican  uuus. 

There  is  a  head  of  St.  Dominick  in  Angelico'a 
"  Coronation  of  llie  Vii^a,"  in  tbe  Louvre.  There 
ia,  certainly,  nothing  of  the  inquiulor  or  the  perserulor 
in  ihii  placid  and  rather  self-complacent  head ;  rather, 
I  should  bh;,  some  indication  of  that  self-iadDlgence 
with  which  the  heretics  reproached  this  austere  Eaml. 
Ia  other  heads  bv  Angelico  wo  have  an  csprcssion  of 
calm,  resolute  will,  wliicb  is  probably  very  cbBracluru- 
tic ;  as  in  the  stamlin);  figure  in  an  altar-piece  now  in 
the  Pitti  Palace,  nnd  many  others.  In  the  pictures  by 
Fra  Bartolomeo,  St.  Dominick  baa  rather  u  mild  fn 
face,  Innoj^d  picture  ibnt  I  haves 
siOQ  pyen  to  Bt.  Dominick  severe,  or  < 


gwith  I 


3T.  DOMINiCK.  405 

tba  Spanisb  pictares  tbe  bead  is  often  cosTse,  with  b 
black  beard  and  tonanre ;  aliogotber  folee  in  charocier 
BDd  peiEon. 

A  very  ancient  and  interesting  figure  of  St.  Bomi- 
nick,  formerly  in  the  Chnrch  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena 
at  Piaa,  is  now  in  the  Academy  there.  It  was  painiod 
for  a  certain  "  Si|:;nore  di  Cosa  Cascia,"  hy  Franceaco 
Tmini,  The  character  of  the  head  agrees  exactly  with 
the  portrait  drawn  by  Suor  Cecilia.  "11  voUo  tri  U 
aeoero  e  it  piaeeooU :  i  cape/li  rosskde,  ta^iati  a  gaiaa  di 
ixrona;  barli  tosa."  He  hoida  a  lily  in  his  right  band, 
in  the  left  an  open  book  on  which  is  inscribed  "  Vaiiie 
JSii,  aadite  me,  iimanm  Domiai  docebo  voi."  The  bands 
very  small  and  Blender.  Around  this  figuie  are  eight 
smalt  Gubjecis  from  his  life. 

Besides  the  devotionat  flgnrcs,  in  which  he  stands 
alone,  or  grouped  with  St.  Peter  Martyr  or  St.  Cathe- 
rine of  Siena  near  the  throne  of  the  Vii^n,  ttieie  are 
some  represeotacions  of  St.  Dominick  which  are  partly 
devotional,  partly  mystical,  with  a  touch  of  the  dramat- 
ic. For  example,  where  be  stands  in  a  commanding 
attitude,  holding  the  keys  of  St.  Peter,  as  in  a  fresco  in 
the  S.  Maria-30pra-Miner?a  (Rome) ;  or  where  the  In- 
&nt  Christ  delivers  to  him  the  keys  in  presence  of  other 
SMiits,  aa  in  the  altar-piece  of  Orcogna  in  the  Stroizi 
chapel  (Florence) :  and  in  the  innumerable  pictures 
which  relate  to  the  institution  of  the  rosary;  which,  as 
a  subject  of  art,  first  bei-ame  popnlar  after  tbe  victorj 
of  Jjipantoin  1571.  Gregory  XIII.  instituted  the  Festi- 
val of  the  Rosary  to  be  held  in  everlasting  commemora- 
tion of  that  triumph  over  the  infldela.  From  this  period 
we  find  perpetual  Madonnas  "  del  Bosario  "  ;  and  8l 
Dominick  receiving  the  rosary  thim  the  hand  of  the 
Virgin,  or  distributing  rosaries,  became  a  common  snb- 
ject  in  the  Dominican  churches. 

The  most  famous  example  is  by  Domenichino  (Bo- 
logna Acfld.),  a  large,  eplendid  pictarej  but  the  inten- 
don  of  the  artist  in  sanie  of  tbe  group*  does  not  seem 


4o6  LEtiEyDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 

desr  Tbe  Mailonna  del  Rourio  a  aeaieU  sliore  in 
glory ;  in  her  lap  the  Divioe  liibnl ;  lioLh  scatter  rosea 
on  tbe  earth  from  a  vwfo  Bustaincd  by  three  lovely  cher- 
ubs. At  the  Igoi  or  ihu  Virgin  kneels  Bt.  Dominick, 
lloI<lii]|>  in  one  hand  the  tosiuy:  with  the  other  be  pointa 
to  tha  Virgin,  indieattiig  by  whnt  nienna  she  is  to  bs 
propitiated.  Angela  liolding  the  symbols  of  tbe  "  Mys- 
teriea  of  the  Rosary"  (the  joys  and  corrows  of  the  Vir- 
gin) aurroBod  the  celestial  personages.  On  the  earth, 
bdow,  arc  varioos  groups,  expressing  tlie  ages,  condi- 
tions, calamities,  and  necessities  of  humaa  Xitei — lovely 
cltildrcii  playing  with  a  crown;  virgiDS  attaekcci  by  a 
fierce  warrior,  representing  oppressed  maidenhood ;  a 
mau  and  his  t'onsort,  representing  tlie  pains  and  cares 
of  loarriago,  &c.  And  all  these  with  roBBries  in  their 
hands  are  supposed  to  obtain  aid,  •' per  intenes^tmc  ddp 
Sacratimnio  Biaario."  1  confbs  that  this  iDIorpretacioD 
appeared  lo  me  quite  ansatiafactory  when  I  lut>knl  al 
the  picture,  which,  however,  is  one  blaze  of  beauty  in 
form,  expression,  and  tranaceodent  coloring.  —  "Jfai 
a  videro  pulUni  e  pia  tori  e  auamai ;  mai  verging  piit 
vaghe  e  tpirilote ;  mai  uoniini  pin  ,fieri,  piU  grad,  ptlt  noes- 
taal"  I  remembor  once  hearing  a  Polish  lady  recite 
some  verses  in  her  native  language,  with  the  sweetest 
voice,  the  moat  varied  empliasis,  tbe  must  graceful  gest- 
ures imaginable ;  and  tlie  feeling  witli  wbicli  I  looked 
and  listened, — at  ouee  bafHed,  puzzled,  and  enchanted, 
— was  like  tlie  liieling  with  which  1  contemplated  thia 
masterpiece  of  Dumcoicliiiio. 

A  series  oF  snbjeeia,  more  or  lesa  numerotis,  from 
the  life  of  St.  Dominick,  may  eomnjonly  be  met  with 
in  the  Dominican  ediScea. 

The  most  memorable  oxsmplea  are  •  — 

1.  The  bas-reliefs  on  the  four  sides  of  his  tomb  or 
shrine,  by  Niccolo  Pisaao  and  Alfonso  Lombardi. 
tBologna.) 

2.  The  set  of  six  small  and  most  beautiful  compo- 
sitions by  Augelico,  on  the  predulla  of  tbe  "  Coronation 
of  the  Virgin."     (Louvre.) 


3T.  DOMINICK.  407 

3,  The  set  of  eight  sabjecta  roand  the  figure  by 
Traini,  already  mentioned.     (Pisa.) 

I  shall  here  enumerate,  in  their  order,  all  the  Bcenei 
and  incidents  I  hare  foand  represented,  either  aa  A 
aories  or  eaparately :  — 

1.  The  dream  of  the  mother  or  St.  Daminiek.  Oio- 
raima  d'Aza  is  asleep  on  her  much,  and  before  her 
appears  the  dog  holding  tlie  torch.  In  front,  two 
vomeu  are  occupied  vashiog  and  swaddling  the  inbnt 

2.  The  dream  of  Pope  Innocent  III.  (esactlj  similar 
to  his  Vision  of  St.  Francis).  He  dreams  that  the 
Church  is  railing  loTuin,  and  that  Dooiinick  sustaitisit. 

3.  When  St.  Dominick  was  at  Rome,  praying  in  the 
church  of  St.  Peter  that  the  grace  of  God  might  be 
upon  his  newly-founded  Order,  he  beheld  in  a  vision 
the  blessed  apostles,  Peter  and  Paul.  Peter  presented 
to  him  a  stotf,  and  Paul  a  volume  of  the  Gospel,  and 
they  said  to  him,  "  Go,  preach  the  Word  of  God,  for 
He  hath  chosen  thee  for  that  minisnj."  Of  this  sub- 
ject, the  bas-relief  by  I4ic<x>lo  Fisano  U  as  fine  as 
possible. 

4.  The  burning  of  the  heretical  books.  The  hook 
of  St.  Dominick  is  seen  leaping  from  the  fire.  la  ths 
picture  by  Angelico,  ^e  Albigenses  are  dressed  aa 
Turks  ;  the  good  punter  could  form  no  other  idea  of 
heretics  and  infidels.  The  grand  dramatic  fresco  by 
Liooello  Spoda,  in  the  chapel  at  Bologiui,  should  he 
compared,  or  ratber  coutiasied,  with  the  simple  elegance 
of  Angelico. 

5.  On  Ash  Wednesday  in  1918,  the  abbess  and  some 
of  her  nuns  went  to  the  new  monastery  of  St.  Sixtus 
at  Rome,  to  take  possession  of  it;  and,  being  in  the 
chapter-house  with  St.  Dominick  and  Cardinal  Stephano 
di  Fossa-Nova,  suddenly  there  came  in  one,  tearing  his 
hair,  and  making  great  outcries,  for  the  young  Lord 
Napoleon,  nephew  of  the  cardinal,  had  been  thrown 
from  bis  horse  and  killed  on  the  spot.  The  cordirtal 
fell  speechless  into  the  arms  of  St.  Dominick,  and  the 


» 


4oS  LEOESlia  OF  THE  .vo.vAanc  I 

women  Mid  othcn  «ho  were  ptctuii  were  HIImI  n 
grii-r  wid  horror.     Thej-  lirought  tile  body  of  ^  yoiqj 

I    into  Ihe  clinpicr-bonse,  nnd  liM  H  hpfoic  thealEar;  a 
Dominick,  having  prsTLil.  mrntd  a>  Ihe  boilj  of  H 

I    jtmng  rann,  Bnying.  •■  O  iidolncmx  Napaltol  it 
I^mini  metri  J.  C.  tSii  di'co  lun/e  I "  nnd  clierenpoii  fi 
e  aoaoA  and  wtiole,  to  Ihe  aospoaknble  ironder  at 
■1]  present. 

This  is  B  snhjapl  fteqaently  repeated.  The  iMS-Klief 
by  Nkwlii,  the  linle  pii-Lure  by  Angelk'o,  and  the  fVooo 
by  UasiollctCB,  ahonld  be  miupBred.  In  the  lirsl  two, 
the  aunt  and  the  dead  yomh  fix  the  attomkin ;  in  tbe 
last,  it  is  Uto  Jiaibanda  cavalto  nhicli  make*  us  start. 

S.  The  Bupper  of  St.  Dominick.  "  It  happened  that 
when  ho  was  residinj;  with  fbrty  of  hie  friars  in  the  eon- 
Tcnc  of  St.  Sabina  nt  Kome,  the  brothurs  who  had  been 
sent  to  b^  for  provisions  Imd  rcfnrned  with  a  very 
imull  quantity  of  braid,  nnd  they  knew  not  what  Ihey 
(honld  do,  for  night  was  at  hand,  and  they  had  not 
eaten  all  day.  Then  St.  Dominick  ordered  that  they 
ahonld  scut  themselves  in  the  rele<:tory,  and  taking  his 
place  at  the  head  of  the  lablu,  ho  pri>noiin(.-ed  the  naoaJ. 
blessing T  and  behold!  two  beautiriit  youths  clad  in 
while  and  shining  garmenia  appeared  amongM  them  ; 
one  eanied  a,  basket  of  bread,  and  the  other  a  pitcher 
of  wine,  which  they  dislribuwd  to  the  brethren  :  then 
they  diiappmred,  and  no  one  knew  how  they  had  conn 
in,  nor  how  they  had  ((one  ont.  And  the  brethren  Ba»_ 
it)  amazement;  but  St.  Dominick  stretched  forth  h 
huud,  and  said  calmly,  '  My  children,  eat 

truly  celestial  food,  i 


s  thej  had  never  tasted  before  e 


Thetr 


It  of  ibis  I 


n  the  little  pieture  bf 


is  perii:ctly  exqutsite.     The  friars,  with  tbi^ 


e ;  in  the  cooire  Is  St.  Dominick,  with  Mi 
joined   in   prayer.     In   front,  two   benntifnl  e 
an^Is  seem  to  glide  along,  distritiutin);  from  tb 
I   nf  their  dmpory  the  "  bread  from  paradise." 


ST.  DOMINICK.  40} 

7.  The  English  pilgriniB.  When  Simon  de  Modi- 
fbtt  besieged  Toaloose,  forty  pilgrima  on  tbeir  waj 
from  England  to  Corapostella,  not  rhooeing  to  enter 
the  heretical  citf,  got  into  a  little  boat  to  cross  the 
GiJonne.  The  boat  is  oTcraet  by  a  Bform,  but  tbo 
pilgrims  are  saved  by  the  prayers  of  St.  Dominick. 

This  subject  is  often  mistaken  ;  I  bnve  seen  it  called, 
in  Italian,  "la  Barraaca  del  Mare."  In  the  series  by 
Train!  it  is  extremely  Une  *  some  of  the  pilgrims  an 
struggling  in  the  water ;  others,  in  a  transport  of  grsti- 
tade,  are  kissing  the  hands  and  garments  of  the  saiot. 

3.  He  reatorcs  to  lifb  a  dead  child.  The  great  fresco 
of  this  sobject  in  the  chapel  "  dell'  Area  "  at  Bologna 
is  bj  Tiarini,  and  a  perfect  mafilerpiece  in  the  scenic 
and  dramatic  style  ;  so  admiralily  g<^  up,  that  we  feel 
as  if  assisling,  in  the  FniDcb  sense  of  the  word,  in  a 
eide-box  of  a  theatre.  To  understand  the  scene,  we 
must  reraembor  that  St.  Dominick,  being  inrited  to  the 
fitneral  banqtlet,  ordered  the  viands  to  be  remored,  and 
the  child  to  ba  placiid  On  the  table  instead ;  the  fiuher, 
with  outstretched  arms,  about  to  throw  himself  at  the 
feet  of  tha  saint,  —  the  mother,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on 
her  reviving  child,  seeming  only  to  live  in  his  retamiog 
life,  —  are  aa  fine  and  aa  animated  as  possible.  It  IB 
Bubens,  with  Italian  grace  and  Venetian  color. 

9.  "  Pope  Honorius  III.  confirms  (lie  Older  of  St 
Dominick,"  oiten  met  with  in  the  Dominican  conveata. 
There  is  a  line  lai^  pictare  of  this  subject  in  the 
sacristy  of  St.  John  and  St.  Pitui  at  Venice,  painted  by 
Tintoretto  with  his  usual  vigor.  The  small  sket^th  is, 
I  think,  in  the  collection  of  the  Dnke  of  Sntheriand. 

10.  St.  Dominick,  in  the  excess  of  his  charity  and 
devotion,  was  accustomed,  wiiiie  preaching  in  Langue- 
doc,  to  scourge  himself  three  times  a  day  ;  — once  tbr 
his  own  sina ;  once  for  the  sins  of  othera;  and  onot 
fbr  the  beneKt  of  sools  in  purgatory.  There  is  a  small, 
bnt  very  striking,  picture  of  this  subject  by  Carlo  DoIm. 
(P.  PitU.)  Dominick,  with  bared  ahouldera,  koeele  in 
ft  caTcm ;  tha  scourge  in  his  band ;  on  one  side,  tha 


4l«  LEGENDS 

MMiU  uf  sinnen  liheratud  by  his  prnvvn,  a 
from  the  Dames  of  purgatory ;  for  in  iha  background  fl 
■cm  tho  dmtli  of  Peter  M&rtjr.  ^ 

1 1.  The  deulli  of  the  iaxm.  la  the  eailj  pictures  of 
this  lubioct  we  ollon  find  inscribed  the  words  of  St. 
Dominick,  "  CBrimtem  habcte  ;   humilitatem   servate. 


1 3.  Fre  Guala,  prior  of  &  convent  at  Brescia,  I; 
vision,  in  which  be  beholds  two  ladders  let  down  fr^ 
beavcn  bj  the  Snvionr  and  the  Virgin.     On  tJiese  n 
angeU  ancaiHl,  bearing  between  tbem  a  Ihrone,  on  whi 
the  eoul  of  St.  Dominick  is  withdrawn  into  paradise. 

li.  The  solemn  traneiouon  of  the  body  of  St.  Dumi- 
nick  to  the  chapel  of  San  Domenin  '    "  ' 
the  series  by  Train!. 

14.  The  apotbeosiB  of  the  saint.  Ho  i»  welcomed 
into  heaven  by  our  Saviour,  the  Vir^n,  and  a  choir  of 
rqoii'injt  anpils,  who  hymn  his  praiao.  Painted  by 
Guido  with  admirable  ellect  on  the  dome  of  the  cbapel 


9  from  St-  Dominick  U 


St,  Pbtbe  Mahttr. 

Bl,  Filler  Die  DooiIdI 

rv.  Saiut  Hem  Ic  Doml 

This  sojnt,  with  whom  the  title  of  Martyr  has  pas 
by  geueral  coasonl  into  a  aamame,  is,  next  to  their  gi 
patriarch,  tbs  glory  of  the  Dominican  Order. 
are  few  pictures  ilediualed  in  their  churches  in  which  w 
do  not  Gild  him  couEpicuoua,  with  his  dark  pliysioguoniy 
and  iiis  hleediug  bead. 

He  was  born  at  Verona  about  the  year  1305.     His 
pnrenta  and  relatives  bcloaged  to  the  heretical  sect  of. 
the  Cathari,  prevalent  at  that  Dine  in  the  North  of  Ita^  " 
VaicT,  howBver,  nas  sent  to  a  Catholic  school,  where  w 


ST.  PETER  MARTYR.  411 

learned  tho  creed  according  to  the  Catholic  farm,  and 
for  repeacing  it  was  beaten  on  his  return  home.  St 
Dominicic,  when  preaching  at  Verona,  foand  in  thia 
pjung  man  an  apt  disciple,  and  prevailed  on  him  to 
tatce  the  Dominican  habit  at  the  a^a  of  lilleen.  He  be- 
came lubseqnentlj  an  influenzal  preacher,  and  remarka- 
ble for  the  inlnlcrant  zeal  and  unrelenting  crueltj  with 
which  he  parsued  those  heretics  with  whom  he  had 
formerly  been  connected.  For  theao  eervices  10  the 
Church  he  was  appointed  loqaisi tor-General  by  Pope 
Hoaorias  IH,  At  length  two  nublemen  of  the  Vene- 
tian Btales,  whom  he  had  delivered  ap  (o  the  secalar 
sathorities,  and  who  had  suffered  imprisonment  and 
coofiBCatioii  of  propettf,  resolved  on  taking  a  sammaiy 
and  sanguinarj  Tengeance.  Thej  hired  assassins  (o 
wa7la7  Peler  on  his  retuTD  from  Como  to  Milan, 
and  posted  them  at  the  entrance  of  a  wood  throagh 
which  he  was  obliged  to  pass,  attended  bj  a  lay  brother. 
On  his  appearance,  one  of  Ihe  assassins  rushed  apon 
him  and  struck  him  down  by  a  blow  from  an  axe ;  they 
then  pursued  and  stabbed  hia  companion  :  returning, 
they  found  that  Peter  had  made  an  effort  to  rise  on 
his  kuees,  and  was  reciting  the  Apostles'  Creed,  or,  as 
others  relate,  was  in  the  art  of  writing  it  on  the  (n^und 
with  hia  blood.  He  had  traced  the  word  "  CVafo," 
when  the  assassins  coming  up  completed  their  work  by 
piercing  him  through  with  a  sword.  He  was  canonized 
in  1353  by  Innocent  IV. ;  and  his  shrine,  in  the  Sant' 
Eu5toi?io  at  Milan,  by  Balduocio  of  Pisa,  is  one  of  the 
most  important  works  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

In  spite  of  his  celebrity  in  art,  his  fame  and  his  sanc- 
tity, the  whole  story  and  character  of  this  man  are  pain- 
fal  to  contemplate.  It  appears  that  in  his  lifetime  he 
was  not  beloved  by  hia  own  brotherhood,  anil  bia  severe 
persecutinc  spirit  made  hira  generally  detested.  Yet, 
since  his  death,  the  influence  of  the  Dominican  Order 
lias  rendered  him  one  of  the  most  papular  saints  in 
Italy.     Tbeie  is  not  a  Dominican  cborcb  in  Qomsgna, 


411  Ll:G£yDS  OF  TttE  MONASTIC  OBDgBB. 

Tnaeonr.  BoIokth.  or  ibo  MiUntwi  whxcli  floGs  noi 
TOnUin  eRif^ii^a  (>r  l>im  ;  anil,  in  general,  (licCores  of  Che 
Kene  of  hia  marrynlam  abonnd,  ~ 

In  ilio  devotional  f)gun«  he  wears  the  habit  of  H 
Order,  and  cairica  ihe  palm  as  mHnjr.  and  ihe  ri 
oa  |ir«apher:  the  palm,  if  not  in  liia  hand,  is  plar«d  ■ 
fais  feel.  Ho  is  otherwise  diatinguished  rrom  8  ~ 
nick  by  his  black  beard  and  tonturo;  St.  noininick  be- 
in[c  of  a  fitir  and  delicate  compleKion  ;  bdl  hts  pwnlinr 
BTiriliut«  —  where  he  stands  as  martyr — is  the  gash  in 
his  head  with  the  blood  trickling  lironi  it ;  or  the  sabre  at 
axe  struck  into  his  hcsd ;  or  he  is  pierced  through  with 
R  sword,  which  is  less  nsual. 

1  will  now  mention  a  (few  examples :  — 

I.  ByGucrcino  (Milan  Gat.):— St.  Peter M., kneel- 
ing with  the  Babre  at  his  feot. 

3.  By  Bevilapqna  (Milan  Gal.)  :  —  He  presentr 
votary  to  the  Madonna :  on  the  other  sida  is  Job,  t 
patriarch  of  patience,  holding  a  scioll  on  which  i 
inacrilied,  "  Fruet  To  Do  Morte  ot  Bello  de  J 
Gladii." 

3.  Br  Angclico  (Fl.  Gal.) :  —He  stands  on  ono  aide 
of  t)ie  throne  of  the  Madonna  pierced  through  with  a 
(leerd  ;  with  a  keen,  ascetic,  rather  than  aten 
lute,  csprcssion. 

The  Hneel,  the  most  characteristic,  head  of  St.  I 
Martyr  I  Iibto  erer  seen  is  in  a  group  by  Andrei 

Sarto  (P.  Ktti),  where  he  stands  opposite  to  St.  Anga 

tine,  "  in  aria  e  jn  aUo  ^emnante  Igrribite,"  as  Yasarl 
moat  tmlj  dBBcrihes  him ;  and  na»er,  certainly,  were 
fervor,  energy,  indomitable  resolntion,  more  pinfeflly 
expressed.  I  have  mentioned  in  another  place  tbe 
significant  gronping  of  the  personages  in  this  wo 
ftil  pMnre. 

The  Bssaasination  —  or,  as  it  is  styled,  the  ■■  mi 
dom  "  —  of  St.  Peter  occnrs  very  fre<litently.  and 
dom  Tsriea  in  the  general  points  of  irentment. 
two  assassins,  the  principal  of  whom  is  called  ir 
legend  Carino ;  llie  mint  felled  to  tbe  earth,  his  b 


ST.  FETES  MARTYR.  413 

iraanded  aod  bleeding,  hU  hand  altempting  to  tnuw  the 
word  "  Credn  "  ;  —  these,  widi  the  tbreet  backgroiuid, 
coostltnte  tbe  elements  of  the  composition. 

We  have  an  example  of  ihe  proper  lulian  treatment 
Id  a  eniall  picture,  b;  Giorgione,  ia  our  I4ational  Gal- 
lerj,  which  is  exiremel/ aaimated  utd  picturesque.  Bat 
the  most  reaowDcd  of  all,  and  amoag  the  most  cele- 
brated pictuiea  in  the  world,  is  the  "  SaD  Fictro  Mar- 
tire  "  of  Ti^an ;  paiuled  as  an  altar-piece  for  the  chapel 
of  the  saint,  in  the  church  of  SS.  Giovanni  0  Paolo 
(vrhich  the  Venetians  abbreviate  and  harmoniie  into  Siu 
Zanifolo),  belonging  to  the  Dominicaas.  (Veuice.) 
The  dramatic  eifect  of  this  picture  is  beyond  all  praise ; 
the  death-like  pallor  in  the  face  of  Saa  Pietro,  tlia 
extrumiiy  of  cowardice  and  terror  ia  that  of  his  flying 
con^panioTi,  Che  ferocity  of  the  murderers,  the  gloomj 
forest,  the  trees  bending  and  waving  in  the  tempest, 
and  the  break  of  calm  blue  sky  high  above,  Iram  which 
the  two  chcrnbim  issue  with  their  palms,  render  this  the 
most  perfect  scenic  picture  ia  the  world. 

It  is  a  miataltB  to  represent  St.  Peter  Martyr  assassiaat- 
ed  on  the  steps  of  an  altar  or  within  a  church,  as  ia 

I  aiust  mention  another  moat  interesting  work  whic^ 
relates  to  St.  Peter  Martyr.  Fra  Bartulomeo  has  latro- 
duced  him  into  most  of  the  large  pictures  painted  for 
his  Order,  and  has  given  him  the  nsual  type  of  head; 
but  in  one  picture  he  baa  represented  him  with  the  feat- 
ares  of  his  friend  Jerome  Savooarota,  tliat  eloquent  friar 
who  denounced  with  enmeBt  and  religious  zeal  the  pro- 
faae  taste  which  even  liiea  had  b^n  to  infect  the 
productions  of  art,  and  ended  by  entirely  depnviag 
both  art  and  artists.  Aiatt  the  horrible  fate  of  Savona- 
rola, strangled  and  then  burned  in  the  great  square  U 
Florence,  in  1498,  Bartolomeo,  who  had  been  his  disci- 
ple, shut  himself  up  in  his  cell  in  San  Marco,  and  did 
Dot  for  four  yean  resume  his  pencil.  He  afterwardi 
painted  the  head  of  his  friead,  in  the  character  of  l^ter 
MarQi',  with  a  deep  gash  in  \oa  skoU,  and  die  blood 


414  LEGESDS  OF  THE  UOXASTIC  OftDRi 

iridtUng  from  it,  —  pnib«hly  to  Inilii-Bte  hi 
Ibr  •  DUD  who  lixt  hevn  liii  ipirilani  direi-lor,  and 
bj  bis  diKiplM  wM  n^arded  oa  a  niBnjT :  and  if  evw 
Domiaidos  regain  their  former  intliience.  wlio  knoira 
but  that  we  roaj  have  this  resolute  adversary  of  the 
jMpei  and  prilLcea  of  hia  time  (.'aDooized  as  anothET 


rial.  Saa  To 


St.  Thohab  AqciHAB. 
■10  dl  aquloo,  DoOon  ijigeUco.    Uansh  I, 


St,  Thohas  AqcixAa.  as  a  theologian  one  of  the 

great  lights  of  the  KomHn  CaihoUc  Chnrch,  was  of  tba 
illuHtriouD  family  of  the  Counts  of  Aquino,  in  Calabria. 
His  erandfather  hod  married  the  sister  of  the  Emperor 
Frederic  I. :  he  was,  eonsequently,  granil-nephcw  of 
that  prince,  and  kinsman  v>  the  emperors  Henry  VI. 
and  Frederic  11.  Hia  fkiher  Landolfo.  Connt  of 
Aquino,  was  also  Lord  of  Loretto  and  Belcaatro,  and 
at  this  latter  plaeo  St.  Thonins  was  bom  in  the  year 
122G.  He  was  remarkable  in  his  in&ney  fbr  the  ex- 
treme sweetness  and  serenity  of  his  temper,  a  virtne 
which,  in  the  midst  of  ihc  polemieal  dispiitca  in  which 
he  was  aflerwards  engsjted,  never  foraook  him.  He 
was  first  sent  to  the  Bcniiictine  school  at  Monio  Cnsino, 
but  whoa  he  was  tea  years  old  his  masters  fonnd  they 
could  teach  iiim  no  more.  When  at  liome,  the  mag- 
niticeDee  in  which  his  father  lired  excited  rather  his 
humility  iliait  bis  pride :  always  ^ntle,  thoughtful, 
hnh'tuallyBilenl,  piety  with  him  seemed  atniD  Torarion. 
The  Cnunieas  Theodora,  his  mother,  apprehensive  of 
the  dangers  to  which  her  son  wonld  he  exposed  in  a. 
public  school,  was  deairoua  that  he  should  have  a  tutor 
at  home:  to  this  his  father  wonld  not  consent,  bat  sent 
him  to  fiuish  his  studies  at  the  University  of  Naples. 
Here,  though  sarrounded  by  temptations,  (he  warnines 
Bad  advico  of  his  mother  so  far  acted  as  a  safegoard, 
that  his  modesty  and  piety  were  not  less  remarkable 
than  his  assiduity  in  his  studies.     At  the  age  of  Mven 


M 

.f  fllB  ■ 


BT.    THOMAS  AQUfNAS.  415 

teen  he  recelTcil  the  hiihit  of  St.  Dominick  in  the  con- 
vent  of  the  Order  at  Naples.  The  Countesa  Theodora 
huceued  thiLher  to  prevenc  hia  caking  ihe  fiaal  towb: 
feeling  that  he  foald  not  resist  her  tendoniees,  he  toolc 
flight,  and,  on  his  waj  to  Paris,  was  waylaid  near 
Acquapendente,  bj  his  [wo  brother?  Landolro  and  Ri- 
naldo,  officers  in  the  emperor's  army.  They  tore  his 
ftiar'a  habit  from  ha  back,  seized  apon  hioi  and  carried 
him  CO  their  father's  castle  of  Rocca-Secca.  There  his 
mother  came  to  him,  and  in  vain  anpplicated  him  to 
change  his  resolntion.  She  ordered  him  to  be  confined 
and  gnarded  from  all  communicatioQ  wiih  othora ;  no 
one  was  snflcred  to  see  him  but  his  two  sisceiB,  who 
were  directed  to  ase  their  utmost  persaaaioas  to  turn 
htm  from  hia  purpose.  The  result  was  precisely  what 
one  might  hare  Ibretold ;  he  cODrerted  hia  two  sialeiv, 
and  they  assisted  him  to  escape.  He  was  let  down 
from  a  window  of  the  castle  in  a  baahet.  Soma  of  the 
Dominicaa  brethren  were  waiting  below  to  receire  him, 
and  in  the  following  year  he  pronounced  his  final  tows. 
Notwithstanding  his  profound  leamiag,  the  humility 
with  which  he  concealed  his  acquirements  and  the 
stolid  tranquillily  of  his  deportment  procured  him  the 
surname  of  B03,  or   the   Ox.      One  instance  of  his 

tain  day,  when  it  wss  his  turn  10  read  aloud  in  the  re- 
fectory, the  superior,  through  inadvertence  or  igno- 
rance, corrected  him,  and  made  him  read  the  word  with 
&  &tUe  quantity.  Though  aware  of  the  mistake,  he 
immediately  obeyed.  Being  lold  that  he  had  done 
wrong  to  yield,  knoiving  himself  in  the  right,  he  replied, 
"  The  pronunciation  of  a  word  ia  of  little  importance, 
bat  hamility  and  obedience  are  of  the  greatest." 

From  this  time  till  hia  death,  he  continued  to  rise  in 
reputation  as  the  greatest  iheological  writer  and  teacher 
of  hia  time.  Pope  Clement  IV.  oIKred  to  make  him 
an  archbiahop,  but  ha  constantly  refused  all  ecclesiasti- 
cal preferment.  In  1274  he  was  sent  on  a  misaion  to 
Naplee,  and  was  taken  ill  on  the  road,  at  Fosu-NOTa, 


I 


41B  UCGEXOa  Ot   THE  MONASTIC  ORDi 

nooiDpenM  ilott  thou  ilcsire!)  The  saint  repUei, 
■llvn  nM  le,  Domitn'."  (Thjself  onl;,  0  1 
"A  conipanioD  of  St.  Thotnu,  henrintr 
riiiu  Bpenkin^,  stHnda  ucicrt;  conlunniled  snd  almost 
Ixindfl  himuir."  (VsMui.)  TliU  refen  10  a  relvhrated 
vition  relaud  b;  bia  bio^p^liers  (nut  br  himself),  in 
nhich  a  celestial  Toice  ihm  spoke  id  him.  The  same 
sabjtict  wu  pBinied  by  Prnnt'esco  Vanni  in  the  Churcli 
of  Sui  BomaDQ  at  Yiaa. 

5.  By  Zurbamn,  his  masterpiece,  the  "SniiTomaB" 
now  in  the  Maieum  at  Seville.     This  famous  pipluts 
wu  painted  for  the  Uuminican  rollege  of  that  dty. 
having  seen  it,  I  insert  Mr.  Slirling's  desriipEion  ; 

"  It  is  divided  into  Ihrec  pans,  and  the  fl|>ure9 
somewhat  larger  than  life.  Aloft,  in  ths  opooing  ' 
ens,  appear  the  Blessed  Trinit;,  ibe  Virgin.  Si.  Pan', 
and  St.  Dominick,  and  the  angelic  doctor  St.  Thotuss 
Aqiiinaa  aerenJing  to  join  their  elorioua  compaiiv  * 
lower  down,  in  middle  air,  git  the  fbur  Doctors  of  the 
Chnrcb,  grand  and  venerable  figores,  on  claudy  ibmni 
nod  on  the  ground  kneel,  on  the  right  band,  the  Ar 
bishop  Diego  do  Deza,  fbuader  of  the  college^  and 
the  left  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  attended  by  n  train 
eicelesiMlics.  The  head  of  St.  Thomaa  " 
a  portrait  at  Don  Agnstin  de  Earabar,  pivbtudaiy  of 
Seville ;  and.  from  ihe  close  adherence  to  Titian's  pict- 
Dree  observable  in  the  grave  countenance  of  the  imperial 
adorer,  it  is  reasonabie  to  soppose  that  in  the  other 
liistorical  personages  the  likeness  has  been  presen'sd 
wherever  it  was  practicable.  The  dark  mild  (aix  immo- 
dintel?  behind  Charles  is  traditionally  held  to  be  the 
portrait  of  Zurbaran  himeelf.  In  spite  of  its  blemishes 
as  a  composition,  —  which  are  pcrhapa  chaigcable  less 
Bgaanat  the  pointer  than  against  bis  Domtuican  patroiu 
of  the  cuUbitd;  and  in  spile  of  a  certain  harshoess  of 
outiine,  —  lliis  picture  ia  one  of  the  grandest  of  allar- 
pieces.  The  coloring  throngbout  is  rich  ajid  uffectii 
and  worthj  of  tlie  school  of  Boelas :  ihe  ~ 
Bf  them  ndinitable  studios;  the  draperies  of  the  doci 


Sr.    TBOifAS   AQUINAS.  4,9 

ftnn  iMclesiastio  are  mugnifimiit  in  breadth  iind  ampli- 
tnde  of  fold ;  the  imperial  mnnlle  H  painted  with  Vene- 
ijan  aplsndor ;  and  the  street  view,  receding  in  the  centre 
of  the  canraa,  \a  admimblo  foi'  its  atmospheric  depth 
and  distance." 

On  a  teriain  oceaaion,  when  St.  Thomas  woa  retnm- 
ing  by  sea  from  Rome  10  Paris,  "a violent  storm  torri- 
Ikd  the  iirew  and  the  passeugers;  the  Baint  odI;  waa 
withont  fear,  and  eontinned  in  tranquil  prayer  till  tha 
storm  had  ceased."  I  suppose  this  to  he  the  subject  of 
a  piclnre  vt  St.  Thomaa-d' Aqain  at  I'ariB,  paiuled  by 
Scliefier. 

I  mast  mention  two  other  learned  personal^  who 
have  been  roproaonted,  though  very  rarely,  in  art,  and 
who  may  be  eousidered  in  conaectiou  with  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas, 

Albbbtds  htA-ONDS,  a  Dominicaa,  and  a  famona 
teacher  of  theology,  was  the  master  of  St.  Thomaa. 
Ho  is  Bometimoa  called  in  Italy  Sant'  Alberto  Mai/no, 
■nd  Is  paiuled  as  the  pendant  to  St.  TliomaA  Aquinas 
ID  two  pietnres,  by  Angelico  da  Fiesole,  now  io  the 
Academy  at  Ftoreace  (Nob.  U  and  20). 

OF  Dons  Scorue,  the  FrHnciscau,  the  rival  and 
adversary  of  St.  Thomaa  in  theological  diapaiation, 
there  ia  a  fine  and  striking  pLi'tore  at  Hiimplon  Coart ; 
it  belonged  to  James  II,,  and  is  attribpited  to  Bihera, 
by  whom  it  was  probably  painted  for  a  Frandacao  con- 
vent. I  shall  have  more  to  say  of  this  celebrated  friar 
in  reference  to  the  legends  of  the  Virgin,  aa  he  waa  one 
of  the  oarUeat  defenders  of  the  Imma/^'iliilH  Concqtfian. 
The  dispoles  bctwoen  bim  and  St.  Thomaa  gave  rise 
10  the  two  parties  called  Tkomisis  and  Scoliats,  now  for- 
gotten. 

Dante  tias  placed  S.  Thomaa  Aqainas  and  S.  Al- 
Wtns  Magnna  as  companions  in  paradiie  :  —  ""^^ 


^ 


Wbat  St.  Clnra  ia  for  the  Franciscans,  St.  Cotlior- 
ine  of  Siena  is  for  the  Dominiunns,  —  ihu  type  of  female 
Bsni^tity  and  aolf-deuiiU,  acwrdiug  to  the  rale  of  ber 
Order. 

Sho  ia  reproaented,  in  many  beautiful  and  valoable 
piplnres,  alone,  or  group«d  witli  Si.  Doniinick  or  St. 
Peter  MaitTT,  or  with  her  namuiilra  St.  Cadierine  of 
Alenamlria,  ai  lypw  respectively  of  wisdom  and  bbuc- 
tity.  At  Siena,  where  sho  figniM  at  protectress  of  the 
dty,  the  is  often  grouped  with  the  olbor  patrons,  St. 
Aniono  and  St.  Bernardino  the  Frani-tBcan,  It  is  from 
tbe  painters  of  llut  poculiar  and  beautJHil  school  of  art 
whieh  HoariBhed  at  Siean  that  we  ara  lo  loolt  for  the 
t  chanicieristii:  efflgica  of  St.  Catherine 
oa  their  native  saint  and  patroness.  Some  vary  siugB- 
lac  repreaenlAtions  from  the  legends  of  her  li&  and  from 
hec  ecstatic  visioua,  whieh,  crilieaily,  do  not  rank  high 
BS  works  of  art,  derive  a  strong,  an  almost  psjorn], 
interest  from  the  /itfs  of  her  history,  from  her  high  en- 
dowments, from  her  real  and  pasaionate  onthasiuin, — 
her  too  real  agonies  and  emirs,  anil  from  the  important 
part  which  she  played  in  the  most  troubled  and  event- 
ful limes  of  Italian  alory.  Whether  we  regard  her  un- 
der tbe  moral  and  religious,  or  the  poetical  and  pictn- 
reaque,  a«peet,  Catherine  of  Sieua  is  certainly  one  of  the 
most  interesting  of  the  female  saints  who  figure  in  an. 

Tbe  city  of  Siena,  as  those  who  llavo  not  seen  may 
rend,  IB  situated  on  tbe  highest  point  of  one  of  those 


^ 


ST.  CATHERINE  OF  SIENA,  411 

iottj  emineiicet  which  rise  up  ftom  ilie  barreii  hiJIy  dis- 
trict to  (ho  South  of  Toacanj.  Tha  iijantry,  as  we 
approiKli  ir,  has  die  appouranue  of  a  great  vnlinnic  Eea, 
coiisoliilaled  even  wliile  the  wavtu  wore  lieaviug.  Tljo 
CaiBpagna  of  liuiuf,  in  its  mBlaneholr  yet  glorious  Boli- 
lode,  is  all  poetrj'  and  beauty  Forapared  to  llie  dre&ry 
mouotony  of  tha  liilly  waste  which  snrronnda  Siona. 
But  the  city  itself,  rising  with  iCa  ample  walls  and  tow- 
ers, is  wonderfulty  striking:.  It  is  huiit  ou  vc:ry  uueqoal 
groand.  Yon  look  down  into  peopled  rarines,  —  you 
gase  up  at  palace-erowued  heights ;  onil  every  now  and 
ehea  yon  came  on  wide  vauant  spaces  of  jTraansward 
and  trees,  betweea  the  inhahiied  part  of  ilie  lity  and 
the  maauive  walls,  and  lieapi!  of  ruined  buildings  show- 
ing the  former  siie  »od  aphinUw  of  Iho  city,  when  it 
could  send  out  a  handrcd  ihoosand  fighting  men  from 
ia  twenty-four  galea. 

Between  two  high  ridges, —one  crowned  by  the 
beantil'ul  cathedral  barred  with  white  and  block  marble, 
the  oUier  by  tho  conrcut  of  St.  L>oiiiinii:k,  —  ainks  a 
deep  raviDOi  10  which  you  descend  proi'ipituleir  hy  nar- 
row lanes  ;  and  at  the  bououi  of  ihiB  ravine  there  ia  k 
fiUQOUa  fonulaiD,  —  the  Fonto-Branda  (or  BlandaJ.  It 
is  called  a  tbanbun,  but  ia  rather  a.  gigantic  well  or 
tank:  a  wide  flight  of  steps  ieada  down  to  agreacGotiiic 
ball,  open  on  one  aide,  ioto  which  pour  the  gathered 
Btreamleta  of  the  eurroundiog  hills,  pure,  limpid,  abau- 
dant, 

This  ancient  fonntain  waa  famous  for  the  coldness 
and  alBaencc  of  its  waters  io  the  days  of  Dante  (luferao, 
e.  30).  Adam  of  Breacio,  the  hypocrite  and  coiner, 
when  tormented  in  fire,  aays  that  "  to  behold  hla  ene- 
miei  in  the  Same  plight  woald  be  to  him  sweater  and 
moie  refreahing  than  the  waters  of  Branda  to  his  buro- 
ing  tongue  " : 


"  Per  Pom 


i-BraDdn  oon  dan 


411   LEOtiNM  OF  Tan  MONASTIC  OSDKRl 

pittvn  pirmre  of  gij'  nnd  bosf  llfo,  and  suntbine,  ■ 
■pu-ktiiig  tralcn.  Aroanil  the  murgin  of  tliis  c 
MpodolU,  slindowv  well  congregale  men,  women,  and 
fhildniD  in  eveiy  varieiy  of  costomo,  witli  merry  voices, 
—  molTf,  not  lunsiml;  —  and  eanle  Knd  benen  of  iiar- 
dDn,  with  their  tinkling  belle.  From  time  immemorial 
the  Fonte-Brnnda  lias  been  the  favorite  resort  of  the 
P«5ip8  and  loungers  of  the  city.  The  dwellings  of 
dyers,  (TooWmberB,  blischeis,  and  fBllere,  and  all  other 
iradm  reqaiiiPK  an  ahunilant  supply  of  valer,  are  rol- 
levted  io  (tie  neighborhood  of  this  fonntain ;  and  on  the 
deplivity  of  the  hill  Btands  an  oratory,  once  l)ia  divelling 
of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena.  From  it  <ve  look  np  to  the 
convent  and  church  of  B(.  Dominiek,  the  scene  of  manj 
passRges  in  ber  story,  which  is  thos  rclatrd  :  — 

In  the  year  1)H7  there  dwelt  ii 
certain  Gincomo  Benincasa,  who 
and  for  bis  station  a  rich  and  prosperous  man ; 
those  were  the  polmj  days  of  Siena, 
republic  she  equalled  Florence  iu  arte  nud  arms,  and 
almost  rivalled  her  in  the  production  of  the  fine  woollen 
fabrics  which  are  still  tlie  staple  manufacture  of  the 
pltee.  Benincasa  and  his  wife  Lapa  dwelt,  bb  I  have 
said,  not  far  from  the  Fonle^Branda ;  and  tliey  hod 
many  children,  of  whom  the  younB:est  and  the  most 
beloved  was  named  Catherine.  She  was  so  fair,  ao 
eay,  to  graceful  in  her  infancy,  that  the  neighbors 
called  her  Eiipbrosyna ;  but  they  also  remarked  that 
she  was  unlike  her  young  companions ;  and  as  she 
grew  up,  she  became  a  strango,  solitarv,  visionary 
child,  to  •vbam  an  auBOen  world  had  revealed  itself  in_ 
such  Ibrroa  as  the  pictures  and  eflSgies 
adorned  churches  had  reiidered  familiar  to  her  eye 
her  fancy. 

One  evening  Catherine,  being  tlien  about  seven 
old,  WM  returning  with  her  elder  brother,  Ste'fai 
from  tlie  houfle  of  her  married  sister,  Bonaveatura, 
they  sat  down  to  rest  upon  the  hill  which  is  above 


lied:—  .^^^J 

city  of  SienA^^^^^^I 
>  dyer  by  tradl^^^H 
rous  man ;  fl(^^^^^^| 
when  B8  a  fiw  | 


8T.  CATHERINE  Of  SIENA.  413 

Fonte-Branda ;  and  as  Catheriue  looked  np  to  the 
Campanile  of  St.  Dominick,  it  appeared  to  her  that 
the  heavens  wore  opened,  and  that  she  beheld  Clirist 
Bitting  on  a  llirone,  and  beside  him  stood  St.  Peier,  St. 
Fani,  and  St.  John  the  Evangelist.  While  she  gazed 
Dpon  this  vision,  lost  in  ecstasy,  her  brother  stretched 
fbrth  hij  hand  and  shook  her,  to  recall  licr  to  herself. 
She  turned  to  him,  —  but  when  she  looks!  up  again, 
the  heavens  had  closed,  and  the  wondrous  vision  wai 
shut  from  her  sight ;  —  she  threw  herself  on  the  ground 
and  wept  bitterly. 

But  the  glory  which  had  been  revealed  to  her  dwelt 
upon  her  memory.  She  wandered  aioue  away  from 
her  playmates ;  she  became  silent  and  very  thoughtful. 
She  remembered  the  story  —  sbe  had  seen  the  pictures 
—  of  bcr  holy  puionesa  and  namesake,  Catherine  of 
Alexandria  ;  and  she  prayed  to  the  Virgin  Marj  that 
she  would  be  pleased  to  bestoiv  her  divine  Son  upon 
her  also,  and  that  He  shoald  be  her  chosen  bridegroom. 
TliB  most  (ilcased  Virgin  heard  aod  granted  her  prayer, 
and  from  this  time  Ibrih  did  Catherine  secretly  dedicate 
heiBclf  to  a  life  of  perpetual  chastity,  being  then  onlj 
eight  years  old. 

Her  mother  and  her  father  were  good  and  pious 
both,  but  they  understood  not  what  was  passing  in  the 
mind  of  their  child.  Her  love  of  solitude,  her  vigili 
and  her  dreams,  her  fasting*  and  penances,  seemed  to 
them  fooUsbnese.  Her  mother  rebuked  her;  and  her 
father,  aa  she  gievr  up  fair  and  beautifQl  to  look  upOQ, 
wished  her  to  oairy  like  her  sisters ;  but  Catherine  re- 
jected all  suitors ;  she  asked  only  to  dwell  with  Him 
whom,  in  her  heart,  sbe  had  espoused :  she  regarded 
herself  as  one  consecrated  and  set  apart,  and  her  days 
weie  passed  in  solUnde,  or  befbre  the  ^lar  in  prayer. 
Her  parents  were  excited  to  auger  by  her  disobedience; 
the  wa»  no  longer  their  well-beloved  child ;  they  dii- 
missed  the  iroman  servant,  and  laid  all  the  household 
duties,  even  the  meaneet  and  most  toilsome,  on  Cather- 
UM.    Moi«over,  tbey  traoUd  her  hanhly,  and  her  brolll- 


4H    LEGEXDS  OF  TBE  JtOXASTlC  0&Hn 

era  and  nilen  mocked  her.     Bui  Cntlierilie  tki 
in  htr  hcnn,  "  Wrro  not  Uio  ■ninn  lliiis  nffljcnd 
not  ihe  martTn  of  old  inffer  fur  tdotd  and 
tbccDilureil  all  nnrepiniug;  she  jiBrtiiiuiHl  fialii 
■Dd  diligeDily  wUntevor  duties  were  requind 
bat  she  lived  almoEt  without  food  and  ili^p  i 
diaronrage  licr  eanbl.v  Euitors,  she  bei'iime  livtil' 
lier  nttiro,  uid  cot  otT  lirr  long  and  iK^uliful  treaeea; 
offering;  tlicm  up  at  the  fiwt  of  the  AlTsr.     tier  mulliet 
anil  lier  ta^ef  Bouavontura  spoke  hard  words  to  her; 
xW.y  again  pressed  tier  to  aeecpt  a  buBliand  approvedl 
lij  iiHr  father,  but  she   refnied.     Bhortly  afiei      *" 
Bonavenlura  died  in  tliild-birth,  nhioh  Calberine 
vmx  a  jodgment  upon  hor  for  iior  wicted  advice ; 
thcleBB,  she  pmjed  so  eAmestlf  that  her  siiler  mightl 
delivered  from  pnrganuy,  that  ber  prnjier  was  grant 
and  it  was  revesied  to  her  tbat  the  soul  of  Bonsventarl 
wag  [ranslaied  into  parndiee. 

But,  for  all  this,  her  parenta  etill  nr^d  her  with 
oltiirs  of  marriogD  :  Dutil  one  i\a.j,  ns  Benincasa  Dntfrod 
liis  daughier's  chamber,  or  cell,  ho  found  lier  kneeling 
in  prajer,  and  on  lier  head  eat  a  gnow-whito  dove.  She 
appeared  unconscious  of  its  presence.  Then  (he  good 
man  trembled  within  himEelf,  and  he  feared  Icat,  in  op- 
poaing  her  vocation,  he  might  o&end  against  the  Holj 
Spirit,  who  thus,  in  visible  form,  attended  and  protected 
her.  So,  from  this  time  forth,  he  rcfolvod  to  say  na 
more,  and  left  Catherine  free  to  follow  the  prompCingi 
of  her  OWD  heart.  She  went  np  lo  Che  eonvenc  of  St. 
Bominick,  humblj  onlreated  admission,  and  was  re- 
raved  as  a  Penitent  of  the  Third  Order.  Slie  never 
inhabited  (he  convent  as  a  professed  and  sec^luded  nun ) 
but  she  votred  herself  to  an  absolute  silence  for  three 
;eara,  slept  on  a  deal  board  with  a  log  for  a  pillow,  and 
shut  herself  up  in  the  little  chamber  or  ganet  she  had 
appropriated  in  her  lather's  hooBO,  ascending  at  enrl; 
iawD,  or  coming  night,  the  steep  pnth  which  icd  tc 
summit  of  the  hill,  to  perform  lier  devotio 
rent  church,  oflerwarda  the  scene  of  hi 


I 

1 
i 

N 


CatheriDe  did  not  liuil  ihat  [leace 
whicb  aha  iiod  [doked  far.  Tbe  etor;  rclaU«,  that  tbB 
arcb-enpmj  af  man  rendered  her  task,  of  aelf-deTiial  aa 
difficalt  aa  possible ;  that  he  laid  in  her  path  liurrible 
gnarea  ;  —  tortured  her,  tempted  her  with  IbuleBt  iniiif!;e> 
■nd  fcncies  and  Bn^^seBtioDS,  just  aa  ba  bod  tempted  the 
lioly  harmit  St.  Antonj  in  the  daj's  of  old.  In  tlie^ 
'sitatioas,  as  it  la  recorded,  Colberino  did  Dot  argue 
ith  her  spiritual  deceiver ;  she  knew  From  espcricni.'e 
that  the  father  of  lies  ronld  argue  better  thsa  al^e  conld, 
that  argumetit,  indeed,  waa  one  of  hia  most  effiduot 
weapODB.  She  prayed,  she  faeted,  she  scourged  henolf 
the  foot  of  [he  aJtar  till  Che  blood  flowed  down  from 
her  Bbouldets  ;  and  she  called  on  Chribt,  her  afllawod 
bridcgrooni,  to  help  her.  He  ukme.  lie  oomrorted  her 
'Wilh  hie  irinUa  presence.  When  at  niidnighc  she  arose 
li  to  compoaQ  her  Bonl  by 
prayer,  He  appeared  before  her,  walked  Dp  and  down 
the  cold  puvemeot  with  her,  talked  to  her  with  inefl^ble 
graciooauuga  and  aweetnees  :  —  thna  she  herself  related, 
and  ioine  believed  ;  but  others,  wii^koi  and  douhtlng 
minds,  rufiiaed  lo  believe ;  and  tilcre  were  timoa  when 
dialmsted  iieraelf  and  the  goodness  of  God  towards 
:  "  If  these  mysrorioua  gmcea  vouuhsafed  to  her 
should  bo  after  all  hut  delusions,  but  snares,  of  the 
For  a  tine  she  laid  aalde  her  atrict  angteri' 
reclose  life,  and  devoted  herself  to  the  mosC 
,active  charity.  She  visited  the  poor  around,  she  nureed 
sick  ;  but,  through  the  ill  offices  of  Siilan,  she  waa 
d  and  tempted  eorely,  even  through  bCT  charitable 
Mlf-devolion. 

There  woa  a  poor  woman,  ft  neighbor,  whose  bosom 
was  half  eaten  away  by  a  cancer,  and  whom  few  could 
TBDture  lo  approach.  Catherine,  overcomiog  the  strong 
npugnanco  of  her  nature  to  such  all  office,  minisloreil 
to  her,  Homecimes  in  tbe  cold  winter  night  carrying  the 
irood  on  her  back  to  make  a  fire ;  and,  altbongh  the 
woman  proved  ungrateful  and  even  spttefnl  towards 
th  had  released  her.     ""' 


4i6   LEOKSm  OF  THE  UONjkSTlC  ORDEBt 

wu  SDUthrr  oomkn  who  wu  ■  leper,  and.  ai  such, 
liuilihRil  Lcyonil  (lio  waSh  ot  tho  div.  O 
Moglit  her  not  and  hrouj^t  lier  liotne,  gtn 
brnl  to  lier,  Iend«'l  hi<r,  and  nureed  bor,  and  v 
quaice  WH9  harsotf  infvL-ttxl  bj  leprosy  in  her  hi 
Now  Ihia  wotniin  bIsq  proved  ill-condidoned  and 
less,  nnd  pmtinlily  exacced  as  lier  ri^ht  what  wu 
liralowi;d  in  CliriatiiSn  rliarily.  Bat  Calhorine  eiidared 
cvcrylhjng  froTli  hut  vnlh  unwearied  pnlienc^e ;  and 
vrljcn  at  longth  the  noman  diod.  and  tliere  was  no  other 
to  undertake  tbe  perilous  and  disgiutiD^  office,  she 
wiMlicd  licr,  laid  her  out,  and  hnried  her  with  hor  own 
hands,  which,  from  bring  diseaaod,  were  from  that 
iiiument  miraculous  I;  healed, 

ATiother  time,  as  she  wsB  wending  her  way  through 
the  dlj'  on  some  eomposeionale  errand,  she  saw  ino 
Toliliors  carried  forth  (u  the  place  of  execution  without 
the  walls,  and  they  filled  the  air  with  imprecations  and 
erics  or  despur.  rejertiDg  the  offices  of  religion,  while 
the  mnltitudD  followed  after  ihem  with  cuixcs,  And 
Callierine  woa  moved  with  a  deep  and  holy  compassion; 
for  tlieee  men,  thos  hurried  along  to  a  Hham^ol,  cmcl, 
merited  death,  were  they  not  atill  her  brethren  in  Christ^ 
So  Elie  Blopped  the  car  and  demanilod  to  be  placed 
their  aide;  and  so  tender  and  so  persuoEi 
words  slie  spoke,  that  their  hard  hearts  w 
llieyconfoaaed  their  sinH  andthe  juadce  of  their  aeni 
and  died  repentant  and  reconciled. 

Catherine,  that  her  virtue  and  her  sanetity  might  be 
fnlly  manil^ied,  wan  pcr^Gciitcd  and  vilified  by  certain 
envious  and  idle  nuns  of  the  convent  of  St>  DomiDicli, 
among  whom  a  sister,  I'almcrina,  was  especially  malig- 
nant; and  these  insisted  that  her  visions  were  merely 
dreams,  and  that  u!l  her  charitable  actions  proceeded 
ftom  vlunglory.  She  laid  her  wrongs,  weepiu);,  at  iha 
feet  of  Christ.  He  appeared  to  her,  bearing  i 
hand  a  crown  of  gold  and  jewels,  in  tbe  other  a  i 
of  thorns,  and  bid  her  choose  between  tlicm  :  she  to 


;hrisli 

^t^^H 


ST.   CATHERINE  OF  SIESA.  417 

(roni  hia  hand  the  crown  of  thoroi  and  placed  it  on  her 
□WD  head,  pressing  it  dovn  hastily,  and  with  each  force 
thai  the  thoms  penetrated  to  her  brain,  and  she  cried 
□nc  with  the  agonj.  Palmeriua  afterwards  repeated, 
and,  falling  at  the  feet  of  CathcriOG,  bogged  her  forgive- 
ness, which  was  immediatelj  granted. 

Catherine  would  often  pra;  in  the  words  of  Scriptare 
for  a  new  heart :  whereupon,  as  it  ia  related,  oar  SaTioar 
appeared  10  her  in  a  vision,  look  her  heart  from  her 
bosom,  and  replaced  it  with  his  own;  and  there  re- 
mained a  wonnd  or  scar  on  her  left  side  from  Chat  time. 

Many  other  marYcUoas  gifts  and  graces  were  vonch- 
saTed  to  her,  hut  these  I  forbear  10  relate,  for  the  great- 
eEt  of  all  remains  Co  be  recorded. 

When  Catherine  was  at  Pisa  she  was  prajii^  at  early 
dawn  in  the  chapel  of  St.  Cbrisliiia,  before  a  crucifix 
Tenerable  for  its  sanctity ;  and  while  she  prayed,  being 
absorbed  in  rapturous  derotioD,  she  was  transfixed,  that 
is,  received  the  stigmata,  as  St,  Francis  had  done  be- 
fore ;  which  miracle,  notwichsCanding  her  endeavor  to 
conceal  ic,  vraa  actesced  by  many  who  knew  her,  both 
in  her  lifetime  and  after  her  dcadi.* 

The  conversion,  through  her  prayers  or  hereloqnence, 
of  many  wicked  and  unjust  persons  to  a  new  lile,  the 
revelations  with  which  ehe  was  favored,  ker  rigorom 
eelf-^enial,  and  her  extraordinary  virtues,  spread  the 
&me  of  Cachcrine  through  all  tiie  cities  of  Tuscany, 
and  even  as  far  as  Milan  and  Naples.  At  this  lima 
(about  1376)  the  Florentines,  having  rebelled  against 
the  Holy  See,  were  excommunicated  by  the  pojie, 
Gregory  XI.  They  wonld  have  braved  his  dtspleasore, 
bnt  that  it  reacted  on  their  commercial  relations  wiih 
other  countries,  with  Fiance  more  particularly ;  and 

*  Tb/b  cmdflE  cDDimeiQorated  la  tbli  legflod  ti  a  palnUAf  od 
panel  b7CHaDtaPluno(ft1uiit  12fl0).  lCwufttt«mrdd  rrmored 
from  y\tA  by  s  ip«la]  Aeettt  of  tha  Pope,  and  pluad  la  Iba  a^ 
torx  of  81.  OiUwrliM  at  BitDS,  staen  I  saw  tt  Id  1H7. 


fU  lEGESDS  OF  THE  MOSJtSTW  9SDEXBM 

thcj  winhcid  tor  n  m-onfiliarlon.     Tlicy  olmto  lor 
'  iii«Ii*ior  CMbtrine  uf  Siena. 

It  tlierufore  fur  Avignou,  wlure  tlie 
}   than  miilodi  and,  Iwing  ncdved  b;  the  I'apal 
with  all  roapcct  and  deAnnce.  sbo  eondnnod  ibo 

a  inurli  di>crPtion  that  Uie  pope  ratui 
b«r  arbitnsa,  and  Iclt  hn  lo  diutate  ilia  eenna  a( 
hotwccn  binulf  and  iho  lurhulcmt  Fiorentiiies.  Bi 
0  Fturcnw  riie  Toaiid  tlxi  whole  cit)' 
tUUG  or  tumuli,  and  whua  Hbe  would  have  haraugnod 
tho  |>opulace  they  not  out/  rcfuaod  to  liiMn 
obliged  her  lo  lake  refuge  in  a  convent  of  hut  Qj 
where  she  remained  concealed  till  the  aediliou  w. 
dowu.  CatberiDe.  and  otliers  Coo,  believed  Itiat 
uf  the  miMrr  and  miu-ulc  whioh  theu  affiinud  II 
arose  from  llie  abseuue  of  the  Roman  pontic  Irom  ij 
own  cnpital.  8b«  >ued  nil  btr  iafluence  witli  the  pope 
to  itiduco  him  to  reCuro  to  Rome,  and  on<£  more  fix 
ihe  seat  ofgaTonunont  in  ibe  lAuraa ;  and  it  le  minted 
that  her  argent  and  persuiuive  leltars,  at  i3ua  time  ad- 
dreucd  to  the  pope  and  ihe  caTtlinaJs,  derided  their 
nnvvring  resolution.  Tlie  po|ie  left  Avignon  in  Brptem- 
ber,  13TS;  Catlierine  met  him  on  the  wu;,  altende^l  on 
him  when  he  made  hia  public  entry  into  Rome;  and 
wbea,  in  hia  alarm  at  the  consequencci  of  Ihe  step  he 
had  taken,  the  Holy  Father  «as  about 
Avignon,  the  pereuadcd  him  lo  remain.  He  died  the 
foltoH-Lng  j'tar.  The  "Great  Schism  of  the  West 
fallowed ;  and  Christendom  beheld  two  infatlihle  poj 
BQppoiled  by  iwo  factions  arrayed  against  each 
Catherine  took  the  part  of  the  Italian  pope,  Urba 
and  showsd,  in  advocating  his  canse,  more  capadt 
good  sense,  and  honesty  uf  purpose  than  tlie  most  tkvoni- 
ble  of  his  hiograpbcrs  ever  disrovored  in  die  tharactar 
and  conduct  of  that  ciolcnc  and  imbecile  pontiff.  Ha 
appointed  her  hix  ambassailresa  to  the  court  of  Joaaak 
II.  of  Naples,  and  she  at  once  urceptcd 
those  who  were  to  aocompuny  ' 


ignod 

■■hni  I 

ir^^^^l 

pope 

e  fix 
Intcd 
ead- 

^on 
I  the 


her  refnacd  h 


)t  with  dali^;en,  and,  after  vi 


ST.   CATBERINE  OF  SIENA.  419 

lays,  tbe  project  nas  abandoned.  Pity  Chat  ths  world 
was  not  edified  bj  the  spectacle  of  Catherine  of  Siena, 
the  risionarj  ascetic  onn,  playing  the  part  of  pieQipoten- 
tiary  Id  the  most  licemious  court  of  Europe,  and  brought 
bee  to  face  witb  euch  a  woman  aa  the  secoad  Joaona 
of  Naples  1 

In  the  midst  of  these  political  and  religioua  dissen- 
■lons  Catherine  became  sick  to  death,  and  after  a  period 
of  grievous  l»dily  sullering,  still  full  of  enlhnsiaslic 
faith,  she  expired,  being  thou  tljirty- three  years  old.  In 
her  last  moments,  and  wliile  the  weeping  eDthiuiastB  who 
surrounded  her  bed  were  eagerly  gathering  and  record- 
ing hci  dying  words  aa  heavenly  oracles,  she  waa  heard 
to  raiinnur,  —  "  No  !  no  !  no  !  —  not  vainglory  I  —  not 
vainglory  I  —  but  the  glory  of  God  !  "  —  aa  if  ahe  were 

alarmed  couscience  ihers  had  been  a  revelation  of  some 
merely  human  purposes  and  feelings  lurking  behind 
the  ostensible  sanctity.  But  who  can  know  this  trnlj  % 
—  and  it  is  fair  to  add  that  the  words  have  been  di^- 
ently  interpreted,  indeed  in  quite  an  apposite  sense,  aa 
■xpresaing  an  assertion,  uot  a  doi^. 

Among  the  devout  admirers  of  Catherine  daring  her 
lifetime  was  ihe  painter  Andrea  Vanoi.  He  beloaged 
to  a  family  of  artists,  the  lirst  of  whom,  his  grandfa^r, 
flourished  in  the  beginniug  of  the  fbuiieentb  century; 
the  last,  Kafbello  Vanni,  died  towards  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth.  The  family  was  noble;  and  it  appeals 
that  Andrea,  besides  being  Che  beet  painter  of  his  time, 
waa  Capilano  del  Popolo,  and  sent  as  ambassador  tatttt 
the  republic  of  Siena  to  the  Pope,  and  afterwardu  la 
Naples,  where,  during  his  embassy,  he  painted  several 
pictures  ;  hence  be  boa  been  styled  hy  Iianzi  the  Babena 
of  hia  age.  St.  Catherine  appears  to  have  regarded 
him  with  maKrnal  tenderness.  Among  her  lettera  are 
three  addressed  to  him  during  his  political  hfs,  contain- 
ing excellent  advice  witb  reepect  to  tbe  a&ira  intrusted 
to  him,  aa  well  as  hia  own  moral  and  religioiu  conduct. 


4JO  LEGESDS  OF  THE  JiO.VASTIC  ORDEn 

Thrao  Innras  hour  aa  siii>crarr<[)iina  en  (he  outside,^ 
Uoftm  ilnitTO  dl  Vnmii.  Oipiniort" ;  and  btyln,  " 

0  Fij/nnh  in  Chriiio."  In  ow  of  lliem  alie  poinfa 
DUE  llie  RUttua  of  ntiuining  an  inllucnce  over  the  niindg 
of  thoto  aiDQnd  Mm,  and  then  wids.  -Ma  noH  1^9170  S 
mado  dit  twf  pUfoimi)  Am  rr^jen  allmi  m  /rrinut  iwi  reg- 
ghiamo  nfn  medeimi^"  [1  do  not  aen  hoWKeere  to^v- 
rirn  oihers  Bales*  iro  Rrat  learn  10  (covcrn  ouraclrcs.) 
Among  the  works  of  AndrM  in  hit  nilive  fiiy  was  a 
head  of  Chriet,  enid  to  bare  been  pniatod  ander  the 
immadialu  instroccion  of  St.  Calherrne,  represcnlitig  the 
Saviour  aa  she  had,  in  her  visiaoa,  beheld  him.  Un- 
happily, thill  han  perished  :  it  would  eertaiiilj'  have  Uicn 
a  mosi  curious  document,  and  wouiil  have  tliroWD  much 
light  on  Catherine's  own  mind  and  chnraMer.  Equal, 
however,  in  importanco  and  iniercal  is  Ihe  authentic 
itBgj  of  his  saintt'd  friend  and  patroness  which  Vaiini 
liaa  left  ns.  This  portrait  was  painted  origiTialljr  on 
the  wall  of  the  Chnrfh  of  San  Domcniro,  in  that  part 
of  rhe  navo  whlfh  wne  the  scene  of  Catherine's  devo- 
liouE  and  mjatic  visions,  and  which  has  since  been  di- 
vided off  and  enclosed  as  a  place  of  pecnliar  sanctitj. 
The  fi'eaco,  now  over  a  small  altar,  has  long  lieen  cov- 
ered with  glau  and  careFully  preserved,  and  is  in  all 
respeelB  moiit  striking  and  life-tike.  It  is  aepare,  worn, 
but  elegant  face,  with  small  regnUr  features.  Her  black 
mantle  is  drawn  round  her ;  ahe  holds  her  spotless  lily  in 
one  hand,  the  other  is  presented  to  a  kneeling  nun,  who 
Bcenis  about  to  press  it  rovercndailj  to  her  lip« :  this 
Sgore  has  been  called  a  votarv,  but  1  think  it  ma;  repre- 
sent the  repentance  and  pardon  of  her  enemy  Palmerina. 
In  the  single  devotional  figures,  so  cummunly  met 
with  in  tlie  Dominican  churches,  8t.  Catherine  is  dis- 
tinguished by  the  habit  of  the  Order  and  the  sCipmaia; 
these  together  fix  the  identity  at  once.  It  ia  true  lliat 
one  of  the  carlieat  of  her  biographers,  the  good  St. 
Antonino  of  Florence,  who  was  born  seven  or  eiyht 
years  aller  her  death,  asserts  distinctly  thai  Ihe  stigmata 
were  not  impressed  visibly  on  her  body,  but  on  hor 


ST.  CATHERINE  OF  SIENA.  4J1 

•oHt:  And  aliont  n  rantnrv  Inter,  the  Franc^iscana  peti- 
iltoaed  Pope  Sixtus  IV.  [iiat  Cacherine  of  Siena  might 
noc  be  represenleil  in  a  manner  whieh  placed  hei  on 
lUl  equality  witb  Cheic  own  groat  saint  and  paCriarch. 
fiixtuj,  who  before  his  elcTation  had  been  a.  Franciacaa 
friar,  isaueil  a  decree,  that  in  the  cSgics  of  St.  Cathe- 
rine the  stigmata  should  thencefotl:h  he  omicied.  Thia 
mandaile  may  have  been  in  some  inatances,  and 
at  the  time,  obej'ed;  but  I  cannot,  on  recollection, 
name  a.  single  picmre  ia  which  it  haa  aot  been  dis- 
regarded. 

The  lily  IB  an  attribute  acarccl;  erer  omitted  ;  and 
she  also  (but  rarely)  beara  the  palm,  — not  as  martyr, 
bat  expressing  her  victory  over  temptation  and  suffering. 
The  book  so  often  placed  in  her  hand  represents  the 
irnCings  ehe  left  behind  her.  Tho  crown  of  thoma  isaUo 
g^ven  (o  her,  in  reference  to  the  legend  alreadj  related. 

I  will  now  give  a  few  examples  :  — 

1.  In  a  rare  Sienese  print  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
(B.  Museum,}  She  etanda  with  a  hideous  demon  pros- 
(rate  under  her  feet ;  in  one  band  the  lily  and  the  palm ; 
in  the  other  a  church,  which  may  represent  the  Chorch, 
of  which  she  was  styled  the  defender,  in  its  general 
sense,  or  a  particular  church  dedicated  to  her. 

2.  She  stands  holding  her  lily ;  probably  one  of  the 
first  pictures  of  her  in  her  character  of  saint,  painted 
for  the  Dominicsna  at  Perugia.* 

3.  She  stands  with  Mary  Magdalene  "  rapt  in  spirit," 
and  looking  up  at  a  vision  of  the  Virgin  and  Savioar : 
by  Fra  Banolomeo,  in  the  chnrch  of  San  Romano  at 
Lucca,  —  as  fine  as  possible.  Vaaari  saya,  "i  una 
figura,  delia  q'lale.,  in  qad  ffrado,  mm  si  pub  far  megho." 

i.  She  stands  holding  a  cross  and  a  book.  A  beaa- 
tifnl  figure  by  Ghirhindajo. 

•  Thia  elegant  flgnre,  which  <•  engraved  in  Komlnl's  Staria 


«)j  f-eCEIfDS  OF  THE  UOIfABTIC  ORDERB. 


i.  She  Riands  bolclin^  her  Iiook  aud  lilj.  Statue  ia 
wliilp  mnr1>1c  l>y  Atcjchioti. 

G.  She  kneela  wilb  3l.  Dominicl  before  Ihe  throne 
of  (he  Madonna ;  the  lil^  u  her  feet.  The  Infant 
Saviour  ia  turned  towards  her,  and  wilb  one  hand  hs 
CTOwru  her  with  tliomB,  with  the  other  he  presenm  Ihe 
rour;.  This  small  but  mcnt  heantify  allar-piece  was 
paJDMd  by  Sauo  FerTnto  for  the  Santa-Sabma  on  the 
ATcnline,  the  tintt  Church  of  the  Dominirang  at  Rome. 
The  eomposilion  of  this  picture  is  the  masterpietie  of 
the  painter,  with  all  bis  usual  elegance,  and  wilhoat  his 
usual  inupidiCf. 

T.  She  kneels,  and  onr  Saviour,  a  lURJestic  figure, 
standinp,  places  on  her  head  ihp  ttown  of  thorns ; 
behind  St.  Catherine  are  Mary  MRgdalene,  Sc.  Raphael, 
with  Tobit,  St-  Peler,  8l.  Paul,  and  St.  Philip  the 
apostle.  A  magnifleeot  group,  painted  hy  F.  Biasolo. 
(Venice  Acad.) 

8.  She  receives  the  eligmaia,  fainiing  in  a  tmnce 
before  the  crudliK,  and  eualaini«d  in  the  arms  of  two 
lislera  of  her  Order.  (Siena.  S,  Domenico.)  The 
IVesco  in  her  chapel,  bj  Itazzi,  is  jaatly  celebrated. 
Hero  St.  Catherioo  and  her  rompnnions  wear  the  white 
tutiic  and  Bcapnlarj,  without  the  black  mantle,  —  an 
omission  favorable  to  the  general  elleet  of  the  color, 
which  is  at  once  moat  delicate,  rich,  and  harmonions ; 
and  the  beaaty  of  the  facea,  the  expression  of  tender 
anxiety  and  revereoce  in  the  nuns,  the  divine  languor 
on  the  pntlid  iiatnreB  of  St.  Catherine,  render  this 
freaco  one  of  the  marvels  of  art. 

As  a.  Buhject.  St.  Catherine  lainiing  before  the  cmci. 
fix  ia  of  veiy  frequent  occurrence,  but  eenerally  she  is 
inalajned  in  the  arms  of  angels,  as  in  the  pielnre  by 
KaE&ello  Vanni,  and  in  another  by  Tiarioi ;  or,  while 
(he  sleeps  or  swoons  ant^ts  hover  round  her. 

The  SpDsalizio  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena  is  voriongly 
reprasented,  and  often  in  a  manner  which  m.  ' 
difficult  to  distinguish  her  from  St,  Catherine  ol 
andria,  except  by  the  habit  and  the  veil. 


■     BT.  CATHERmZ  OF  BIENA.  43J 

The  ecrlieat  and  floett  example  it  perhaps  the  beau- 
titiil  alUr-piecs  \>j  Fra  Bartolomeo,   painted  tor  hil 

Conrent  of  8c,  Uark  ■(  Florence,  bnl,  aiuco  the  liiiia 
of  Francis  I.,  one  of  the  omsmenta  of  the  Loavre. 
The  Virgin  Bits  enthcoDed,  holding  her  divine  Son  ; 
before  her  kaeels  St.  Catherine,  receiTing  Irom  the 
Infont  Christ  the  mjadc  ring.  On  one  side  of  the 
throne  stand  St.  Peter,  St.  Bartholomew,  and  St.  Vta- 
cent  Ferraris ;  on  the  other,  St.  Francis  and  St.  Domi- 
nick  are  embracing  each  other.  This  was  one  of  the 
pictures  seen  and  admired  by  Baphnel  when  he  visited 
Fra  Bartolomeo  at  Florence  between  150S  and  1S07, 
and  which  first  roosed  his  stleatioa  and  emolatioii 
with  regard  to  color. 

Historical  snbjecu  reUtire  to  St.  Catturine  are  laielj 
met  with  ont  of  her  nalJTe  ci^ ;  all  thou  of  which  I 
bare  preserved  memoraoda  exist  in  the  chnrchea  and 


la  her  chapel  in  the  Saa  Domeaico,  beeidea  the  beaa- 
tifnl  fresco  \>j  Bazzi,  already  deacribed,  <re  have  on  oite 
side  the  scene  with  the  robbers,  by  the  same  painter ; 
on  the  other  the  healiog  of  a  detooaiac,  by  Fraitaesoo 

In  her  oratory  (formerly  the  BaUtga  di  Tiidtria  nt 
ber  fatbw)  is  the  cnie  of  a  «ck  man,  who  at  her  odd- 
mand  riset  from  his  bed ;  by  Pacchiaratti :  and  bf 
Solimbeni,  the  scene  in  which  she  harangoea  the  revolted 
Florentiuea.  St.  Catherine  before  Giegorj  XI.  at 
Avignon,  pleading  tlie  caosa  of  the  Florentiaea,  —  and 
her  recom  to  Florence,  —  are  by  Sebastian  Folli,  a  late 
Sienese  painter :  and  by  Pacchiarotti,  the  fineM  of  all, 
—  the  pilgiimage  of  St.  Catherine  to  visit  the  tomb  of 
8t  Agnea  of  Uontepolciano.  This  St.  Agnaa  was  • 
Dominican  nun,  who,  uni^ng  great  intelligeooe  aitd 
activity  of  mind  with  anperior  sancd^,  was  decled 
^beas  of  her  convent  at  the  age  of  SAeea  and  died 
about  13IT.  Although  held  in  great  venecatioii  by  the 
people  of  the  South  of  Toacanj,  she  >■•  not  fanaallf 


4]4  LEaESDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OKDERB. 


niKinized  till  1604  ;  cotueqnenllf  we  see  fiw  pictures 
of  bar,  and  ihuse  of  a  lery  lace  date  and  confined  lo 
the  localiljr.  Bol  to  retarn  to  Si.  Callierino.  She  was 
Binoni:  ihixe  who,  tlirongh  rccpcct  and  dcvorion,  viaiied 
tba  toroh  of  AKtree,  ai-companied  by  two  of  her  niereH, 
whiD,  on  that  wcttsion.  look  liie  wll :  tli«  t'njBL'o  a  mog- 
niflnnt,  anil  ifinlainit  heacli  whii'li  for  dcjilh  nnd  beantj 
of  exiiRiwion  tiave  bucn  conipurcd  lu  Raphael. 

The  lilirarr  of  the  Dnomi)  is  decoralcd  whh  a  sTriea 
af  tea  lar^  Irvsros  Teproaeoling  the  principal  evcnta 
ID  the  life  of  Pins  II.,  painted  1>;  Pinluricolilo  with  the 
•aaiitkiice  of  Uaphaol.  The  IsM  of  these  i>  the  mre- 
tnony  of  ihe  caiionizaEion  of  Catherine  of  Siena,  per- 
formed bf  Fins  U.  with  prent  bolemnity  in  1461.  Tlie 
body  of  the  saint,  exhumed  for  tiie  purpose,  lies  exieiided 
before  the  pope  ;  a  lily  is  pUiced  in  her  hand  ;  aevcrnl 
Mrdinals,  and  a  crowd  of  assisianCB  bearing  lapers, 
itiuid  arc  and. 

In  the  year  1(48,  a  special  OfHro  wan  appninted  in 
boDDT  of  Si.  Calheriue  of  Siena  by  UrUiD  Vtll.,  in 
vhich  it  was  said  that  Catherine  was  deaeended  ironi 
"he  same  family  a»  the  Borghcsi ;  —  she  who  was  only 
the  danghtcr  of  a  dyer!  That  noble  honsc,  grenily 
scandalized  by  such  an  iTnpnlaiion,  made  a  formal  com- 
plaint to  the  papal  conn:  —  "  c'elait  injnrieoaement 
laira  passer  lenr  maison  p^nr  roCuri^re  et  pleheienne, 
eC  iaisser  ^gtUement  b  lours  descendanis  un  aflronc 
^lemel  dans  coule  U  Chi^tienie  "  (Baillet,  Vies  des 
Saints) ;  and  iliej  insisted  on  having  these  obnoxiooH 
passages  expunged  trom  the  Bilnol.  There  cannot  be 
a  Btiongar  proof  of  die  change  which  hod  inUen  place 
in  point  of  rclipons  feeling  between  tlie  fooneenlh  and 
llie  sereDlecnth  cenlory. 

Gregory  XI.,  the  friend  of  St.  Catherine,  lies  buried 
in  the  Church  oi'  8.  Fmncesca  Romans.  (Homo.) 
Over  his  tomh  is  a  ve^  fine  baa-relief  representing  bis 
wlenm  entry  into  RonFt,  on  lbs  occasion  of  ilie  tctnm 


ST.  AUTONmO  OF  FLORENCE.        435 

of  the  papal  court  f^m  Avignon.  Catherine  of  Siena 
is  seen  '^□gpicuons  in  tba  assemblage  of  cardinals,  prel- 
ates, and  princes  who  (brm  the  trianiphaat  piuceasioo. 


81.  Antonino,  Abchbishop  of  Flobbnci. 

M117  10, 14S1. 

Thb  sloiy  of  this  good  saint  ia  conaecled  in  a  veiy 
iDtereatiog  maaaer  with  the  histoiy  of  urt. 

He  WHS  bora  at  Florence,  of  noble  parents,  about  the 
year  1384.  While  ^et  ia  his  childhood  the  singular 
gravity  of  his  demeanor,  his  dielike  to  all  cliildiah  sports, 
and  the  enthusiasm  and  fervor  with  which  be  was  seen 
10  piay  for  honrs  before  a  ccucilix  of  panicalar  sanctity, 
—  thea,  and  I  betiove  now,  in  tlie  Or  San  Micbele 
(Florence),  —  caused  his  parents  to  regard  him  as  one 
set  apart  Ibr  the  service  of  God.  At  the  age  of  fifteen 
he  presented  himself  at  the  door  of  the  Dominican  con- 
vent at  Fiesote,  and  hnmhl;  desired  to  be  admitted  as 
a  novice.  The  prior,  astonished  at  the  teqoest  from 
one  so  young,  and  struck  by  his  diminutive  person  and 
delicate  appearance,  deemed  him  hardly  fit  to  andertaka 
the  duties  aad  austerities  imposed  on  the  Order,  btit 
would  not  harshly  refuse  him.  "What  hast  thou  stud- 
ied, my  son  ?  "  he  asked,  benignly;  the  boy  replied 
modestly  that  he  had  studied  the  Humanities  and  the 
Canon  Law.  "  Well,"  replied  the  prior,  somewhat 
iucrednlous,  "return  to  thy  father's  house,  my  sou;  and 
when  thou  hast  got  by  beart  the  Libro  del  Decreto,  re- 
turn hither,  and  thou  shalt  have  thy  wish,"  —  and  so 
with  good  words  dismissed  him,  not  thinking,  perhaps, 
to  see  him  again.  Antoniuo,  though  not  gllted  with 
any  extraordinary  talents,  had  an  indomitable  will,  aod 
was  not  to  be  frighted  by  tasks  or  tests  of  any  kind  from 
a  resolution  over  which  he  had  brooded  from  infitiUT- 


I 

I 


436  LEOENDS  OF  THE  UO.VJSTIC  ORDEBO. 

fie  tnmcd  t.iny  tnia  the  gale  of  the  mtireiii  and  sought 
bii  homo.  At  ilie  bdJ  ofa  year  he  ap|icared  BgsiD  be- 
bn  Uiu  priiir  ;  —  "  Revercoii  leUiGr,  I  have  learned  the 
book  of  Dcrrces  bj  heart ;  will  joii  dov  admit  me  1 " 
The  good  prior,  recovering  from  liia  astoniahment,  put 
him  10  the  proof,  found  ihac  he  could  repeat  Cho  nbolo 
book  MB  if  lie  held  it  in  hig  luind,  and  therefore,  soeiDg 
clearl)'  that  it  waa  the  will  of  God  ihai  it  should  be  eo, 
he  ttdmillcd  liim  into  ihc  brotherhood,  and  sent  him  10 
Corlona  10  stodj  daring  the  yver  of  hia  novitiate.  At 
the  end  of  that  puriod  (a.  d.  1405),  he  returned  to  Fio- 
»ole  and  prooounced  hie  vovfb,  bciug  tlien  Einteen.  Tho 
remsiuder  of  hia  life  ahovred  that  his  bad  been  a  trua 
rotation.  Lowly,  charitable,  and  stadioua,  Le  waa  abo«e 
all  remartobbj  for  tba  gentie  but  irresisUhle  power  ha 
exercised  over  others,  and  which  arose  not  eo  laaeb 
fVom  anj  idea  enionaineil  of  hia  superior  talents  and 
judgmcni  la  from  cotitideace  in  tlie  simplicitj  of  his 
pure  unworldly  mind  and  ia  hia  perfect  truth, 

No(T  in  the  same  convent  at  Fiesole  where  ADtonino 
made  his  protbseiDQ  there  dwelt  a  young  friar  aboat  the 
Hune  age  aa  liiiaself,  whose  name  waa  Fib  Giovanni, 
and  who  was  yet  more  favored  by  Heaven ;  for  to  him, 
in  addition  to  the  vinuea  of  humility,  charity,  and  piety, 
was  rouchsafed  the  ^ili  of  surpeising  genius.  Uc  was 
a  painter  :  early  in  lile  he  fiad  dedicated  himself  and  his 
b^tiful  art  10  the  service  of  God  and  of  Ilia  moec 
blessed  saints  ;  and,  that  he  might  bs  worthy  of  his  high 
and  holy  Tocation,  he  sought  Co  keep  himself  unspotted 
from  the  ttorld,  for  he  waa  aucnstomed  to  say  that 
"those  who  work  for  Christ  rauat  dwell  in  Chriat." 
Ever  before  he  commenced  a  picture  which  was  to  bo 
consecrated  to  the  hoimr  of  God,  he  prepared  himself 
with  fervent  prayer  and  meditation,  and  then  he  began, 
in  humble  troet  thai  it  would  be  pat  into  bis  mind  what 
he  ought  to  delineacc  ;  and  he  would  never  change  nor 
deviate  from  the  lirat  idea,  fur,  as  he  said,  "  that  was 
the  will  of  God  "  {cosi  fiaae  la  vUoiUa  di  Dio)  \  auil  thia 
he  said,  not  in  presumption,  but  in  faith  and  aimplicity 


ST.  ANTONJNO  OF  FLORENCE.         43, 

of  heart.  Sa  he  passed  bis  life  in  ima^Dg  those  visiona 
of  beatitude  which  descendorl  on  his  faiiij',  eent  indeed 
by  no  Tallied  Muse,  but  even  by  tliat  Spirit  "  timt  doth 
prelar  liefiire  all  temples  the  upright  heart  and  pare"; 
and  surely  Qcver  hefore  nor  since  was  earthly  material 
worked  up  inta  aoal,  nor  eartlily  forms  nlinGd  into  spirit, 
m  under  (he  hand  of  this  most  pious  and  luosi  excel' 
lent  pMQier.  He  liecame  soblime  by  the  force  of  liis 
own  goodness  and  humility.  It  was  as  if  puradlsc  hod 
openednponbim,  — a  paradise  of  rest  and  joy,  of  purity 
and  lore,  where  no  ti'oulile,  no  guite,  no  change  could 
enter :  and  if,  as  it  has  been  said,  his  colostial  creations 
E  "4m  to  want  power,  not  the  less  do  we  feci  that  Ihey 
need  it  not,  —  that  before  those  ethereal  beings  power 
itself  would  be  powerless ;  such  are  hie  anj^els,  resist- 
leaa  in  their  soft  serenity ;  bucIi  his  virgins,  pure  from 
all  earthly  stain ;  soch  bis  redeemed  spirits  gliding  into 
paradise;  sneh  his  stunted  martyrs  and  conreBsors,  ab- 
sorbed in  devout  raplura.  Well  has  he  been  named  II 
Bbato  and  Angblico  wIiosb  life  was  "  porucipate  with 
angels "'  even  in  this  world  I 

Now  this  most  execllent  and  feVonid  Giovanni,  and 
the  good  and  gentle-hearted  Anlonino,  dwelling  together 
Id  their  youth  within  the  narrow  preuinvts  uf  (lieir  con- 
Tenl,  came  to  know  and  to  love  each  other  well.  And 
no  doabt  the  contemplative  and  studious  mind  of  Anto- 
nino  nourished  with  spiritunl  learning  the  genius  of  the 
paialar,  while  the  realization  of  his  own  teachin);  grew 
op  before  him  ia  haes  and  forms  more  definite  than 
words  and  more  harmonious  than  music ;  and  when  in 
aftar  years  they  purled,  and  Anwnino  was  sent  by  bis 
BoperioTH  la  various  convents,  to  restore,  by  his  tnild 
influence,  relaxed  diauipline,  —  and  Angoliro  bj  the 
same  aatbority  to  various  churches  and  convents  at 
Rorence,  Cortona,  Areizo,  Orvieto,  10  adorn  thorn 
vridi  bis  divine  skill,  —  the  two  friends  never  toTffil 
ewh  other. 

Many  years  passed  away,  in  which  each  fulfilled  his 
atiou,  wulUug  humbly  before  Qod;  nlien  at  length 


I 


■ 

I 


4jS   LfUtKOS  OF  THE  ilOSASTlC  Oi 


ilie  frtiiie  of  Angelico  haviiif;  gana  tonh  (hraa);1i  all 
ItalT,  (ha  pnpe  i.'iilli<d  hicn  to  Rome  to  paini  for  him 
tbvrv  •  cliii|iul  of  wondrnut  beaury,  with  the  pjctnred 
kctioiu  luid  tuflkrings  ofltiOM  two  blonwd  inanjn,  St. 
Snpboa  Diid  Si.  Lntinara,  whow  rcnninB  r«ppie 
getlier  wiiliout  the  hsJIs  of  Rome ;  »od  while  Angelico 
WW  at  hilt  work,  [lie  jk>|)D  look  pleasure  in  looking 
■lid  MiTivcning  with  bitn,  anil  was  filled  with 
for  bin  pure  imd  hoi;  lii^.  aud  for  his  wisdom,  whi 
iude«d,  WNS  nut  of  this  world. 

At  Ibis  period  the  Archbishop  of  Florence  died, 
llic  pope  was  much  troubled  to  HII  his  plaM,  for 
tinii«  were  petilous,  and  the  Florualines  wete  disal&cled 
to  the  Church. 

Ouu  day,  conieraiag  with  Angelico,  itnd  more  than 
cr  struck  with  his  simpliciiy,  bis  wiEdom,  and  hii 
goodiieas,  he  olTcrol  him  the  dignity  of  archbishop ;  and 
great  was  the  surprise  of  the  Holy  Father  wlien  the 
painter  entrcoted  that  he  would  choose  anoiber,  being 
bimseir  addicted  to  bis  art,  and  not  fit  to  )i;uide  or  Id- 
;  or  govern  men ;  adding,  thai  ha  knew  of  one  far 
wortliy  than  himeelf,  one  of  bis  own  brotherhood, 
■  man  who  feared  God  and  lored  the  poor,  —  learned, 
disereel,  and  faithfal :  and  he  named  the  Frata  Anlo- 
waa  then  aeling  in  Naples  as  virar-gencisi 
When  the  pope  heard  that  name,  it  was  as  if  a  sudden 
!  ilirough  the  trouble  and  dartnosa  of  bU 
mind  ;  he  wondered  that  be  had  not  tliouehc  of  him  be- 
be  was  preciaely  the  man  best  filled  for  the  office. 
QD  therefore  was  appointed  arehbibhop  of  Flor- 
ence, to  tbe  great  joy  of  the  Florcntinea,  for  he  was 
their  conntryman,  and  already  beloved  and  honored  ti:ir 
the  sanctity  and  humility  of  his  life :  when  raised 
new  digailj  be  became  tbe  mode!  of  a  wise  and 
prelate,  maintaiQing  ]icace  among  his  people,  and  i 
gaish<»l  not  only  by  bia  charity,  hut  bis  justice  ai 
firmness- 
He  died  in  H59,  at  tbe  age  of  BeTBoty,  having  hw 
I   the  dignity  of  atKhbisbop  thirteen  years,  and  was  bnrlc 


9 

the  ■ 


ST.  ANTONl.VO  C 


him,  aad  the  ball  wus  pabllslied  iii  15£}. 

There  are,  of  course,  no  effigies  of  St.  Antonino  in 
hia  chamiitor  a(  saint  onriier  than  this  dntc.  arid,  excepC 
Bt  Fiorence,  I  do  Dot  recollect  meeting  with  any.  As, 
however,  he  U  the  only  diatinguiahed  canonized  prelnio 
of  the  Order,  it  maj  be  presumed  that  an  episcopal 
s^nt  iutrodnced  into  the  Dominican  pictnraa,  and  not 
HCcompanied  hy  any  particular  attribute,  rcpreseuts  St. 
Aiiluiiino.  He  is  always  oxhibiiod  ns  archbishop.  In 
a  characteristic  fult-leagth  figure  the  su»  of  life,  by 
Domenico  Qhirlandiyo,  be  wbbcb  the  pallium  as  arch- 
hishop  over  hia  Daminican  habit.  In  hia  BjileDdid 
chapel  in  the  San  Marco  at  Florenne,  dedicated  by  the 
Saliristi,  is  his  atntue  in  whit*  tiuublB,  by  John  of  Bo- 
n  each  side  represent  the  ceretno- 
■  ■  In  the  Bret, 
n  the  church,  surrounded  by  five 
bishops ;  in  the  second,  he  ii 
'n  the  ciiapel,  in  a  procestsion 
le  frescos 


logna.     The  fr 

oiea  which  took  place  oi 

he  is  lying  in  » 

cardinajs  and  n 

borne  to  his  resting-plac 

of  prelates,  princes,  ami 

contain  portraits  from  tiie  life  of  the  most  distingniahed 

Floreatinea  [hen  living  (abaat  1590),  they  have  become 

iavalnable  as  documents,  and  are,  besides,  admirably 

poiiiled  by  Paasigaano  in  bis  best  maotier,  —  that  is  to 

aay,  very  like  Paul  Veronese. 

There  is  alao  a  well-lcnown  flgnre  of  St.  Antonino. 
ona  of  the  firet  objects  we  meet  when  entering  the 
Duomo  of  Fkireace  by  tbe  principal  door.  He  ia  sealed 
on  a  throne,  attired  in  his  epiacopal  robes,  and  in  the 
act  of  blessing  the  people- 
One  amoQg  the  legendary  Rtoriea  of  St.  Antonino  is 
fnqneiicly  represented.  During  a  terrible  pestilence 
and  bmine  wtiich  a&Iieted  Florence  in  his  time  there 
were  two  blind  men,  who  were  beggars  by  profesaioa, 
<uid  who  had  amassed  in  their  vocation  many  bandred 
',  yet.  iu  this  season  of  affliction,  they  m 


I 


» 


440  LEGENDS  OF  THE  HU.VAST/f  0HDE&3. 

withheld  their  hoards,  liut  prescnled  [hnmselvea  amang 
those  who  sought  aid  ftom  pulilic  chimlj.  The  itio- 
ment  Antonino  fixed  hia  eyes  on  ihem,  Ihe  true  slate 
of  tiie  cBsfl  wB»  bij  s  miracle  made  known  to  him. 
Severely  did  he  t.iicn  mbiike  those  sellish  hypocrites, 
toolt  Trom  them  their  bidden  wealth,  whirh  he  senl  lo 
tlie  hoBpiUkl,  and,  EIioukIi  he  mainwiued  them  getter- 
ouli;  daring  Ihe  rest  of  their  Uvea,  he  made  them  pei^ 
form  atrici  penance  for  their  former  ajufiil  and  uafeeling 


St.  RiTHDND  DE  pEtfAFOBTB,  who  B^reg  chiefly 

\a  Spanish  art.  was  of  no  iliasiriaua  bmily  of  BarcB- 
lona,  nearly  allied  to  the  kings  of  Aragou.  Ue  was 
bom  at  his  father's  castle  at  FeBaforte  in  Catalonia,  ia 
1175;  entered  the  Chnrch  early,  and  t)ecame  a  perfect 
model  to  the  I'lorgy  by  his  teal,  devotion,  and  boundleaa 
liberality  to  the  poor,  whom  he  called  hia  creditors. 
He  assumed  the  habit  of  the  Order  of  &E.  Domioick  a 
few  months  afttir  the  death  of  its  fopoder,  and  deTotod 
himself  to  the  duties  it  enjoined,  —  those  of  preaching, 
inslnicting  the  poor,  and  oonverting  sintMsrs  and  here- 
tics.  Late  in  life  he  was  elected  the  third  General  of 
his  Order.  It  is  laid  of  him,  by  way  of  enlogy,  that, 
being  commiaaioned  by  the  pope'a  legate  to  preseh  a 
holy  war  againat  the  Moora,  this  servant  of  God 
acquitted  himeQlf  with  bo  much  prudence,  zeal,  and 
charity,  that  he  aowed  the  seeds  of  the  overthrow  and 
total  axpolsion  of  these  inHdels  in  Spain.  He  died  at 
Barcelona  in  the  fearlSTS,  in  the  hundredth  year  of  hia 
age,  and  was  canonized  by  Pope  Clement  Vnl.  in 
1601.  His  miraclea,  perFormod  before  and  after  bis 
death,  filled  fifteen  folio  pngea. 

Tire  most  celebrated  of  these,  aod  one  which  is  fre- 
qnencly  represented  in  picturea,  being  Bathenticatcd  hy 
the  bnll  of  Ilia  cauonizalioa,  ia  thas  related :  —  He  was 
confosBor  to  Don  Jamea,  king  of  Aragon,  called  el 
Conqniatador  ■"  ■  


Iha  toshion  of 


aT.  RAYMOND  DE  PEfiAFORTE         441 

lerre  God  and  obey  hii  confessor  in  all  things  thai  did 
not  mCerfere  with  hia  policy  or  hia  pleasnres.  Ha  had, 
ia  Tact,  bm  one  Tanlt;  he  was  attached  to  ■  certain 
beauty  of  his  court,  from  whom  Raymond  in  vain 
endeavoted  to  detach  him.  When  the  Ising  samuoned 
hia  confeaaor  to  attend  him  to  Majorca,  the  saint  refosed 
nnless  the  hidy  were  left  behind :  the  king  affected  to 
yield,  —  but  soon  after  their  arrival  in  Majorca,  Say- 
mood  discoTered  that  tlie  lady  was  also  there  in  the 
disguise  of  a  page  :  he  remonstrated  :  the  king  grew 
angry  ;  Raymond  intimated  his  resolution  to  withdraw 
to  Spain ;  the  king  forbade  any  ressel  to  leave  the 
port,  and  made  it  death  to  any  person  to  convey  fafm 
from  the  island.  The  rsanlt  is  thos  gravely  related : 
"  St.  Raymond,  full  of  confidence  in  Crod,  said  to  Us 
companion,  '  An  earthly  kiog  bos  deprived  ns  of  the 
means  of  eecape,  hut  a  heavenly  King  wiU  supply  them  I' 
—  then,  walkini;  up  to  a  rock  which  projected  into  the 
les,  he  spread  his  cloak  on  the  waters,  and,  aetting  hia 
stalF  upright  and  tying  one  corner  to  it  for  a  sail,  be 
made  the  sign  of  the  croas,  and  boldly  embariced  in  thii 
new  kind  of  vessel.  Ho  was  wafted  over  the  sorface 
of  die  ocean  with  such  rapidity  that  in  six  hoars  ha 
reached  Barcelona."  This  stupendons  miracfe  mi^ 
perhaps  have  been  doubted  if  five  handred  ciedibia 
witnesses  hod  not  seen  the  saint  land  on  the  qoay  nl 
Barcelona,  take  up  hia  cloak,  which  was  not  even  wetted 
by  the  waves,  throw  it  round  him,  and  reuie  modestly 
to  bis  cell,  more  like  an  hnnjble  penitent  than  one  in 
whose  favor  Heaven  had  so  wonderfully  wrought.  It 
is  pleasant  to  know  that  Don  Jayme  afierwarda  re- 
pented, and  governed  his  kingdom  (and  his  conduct) 
by  tbe  advice  of  Raymond  ijll  the  death  of  Ibe  laint. 

"Devotional  effigies  of  St.  Raymond  are  fonnd  k  tha 
Dominican  churches  and  convents,  and  are  in  general 
prodoctions  of  tbe  Spanish  and  Bologna  schools  about 
the  period  of  hii  canonizadon  (1601).  Ha  wean  tbe 
InUt  of  hit  Older ;  in  the  bw^Lgraiiud,  tbe  tea,  ont 


441  LEGeUDS  OF  TBE  iSONABTIC  ORDEBB. 

which  he  is  gliding  ou  bin  bliirk  mantle.  Tlw  ttpit- 
■enracion  of  ilic  mirni^lc  *i  an  liiawiical  lulyect  ii  fre- 
qnont :  thi-  bout  is  that  of  Lndnviro  CBran'i  in  tlie  San 
Domenii^  al  Bologna :  it  exliillits  ilie  saint  kneeling 
on  hit  block  manrle.  lookiTig  np  tu  lienven  wilti  a  devouc 
and  confiding  cxgirewion,  and  tiua  bomo  over   ilis 

Sir  Edmund  Head,  in  the  "  BaodtKiak  oFthe  Spaniih 
and  Frvnrh  achoola,"  mcntionit  a  series  of  six  pii-tuna 
frnm  the  life  of  Raymond  painted  by  Pachom  for  tlie 
Uavid  at  Seville,  —  but  dom  nut  say  what  are  the  sub^ 
jepis  chosen. 

It  appears  to  me  that  Ibere  it  »ome  confusion 
and  also  in  Mr.  Slirline's  ■•  Artisu  of  Sinin  "  (p.  311 
hciwecn  this  St.  Raymond  of  PeiWbnc,  the  Dominii 
and  Si.  Raymond  NoniiiitiiB  of  the  Order  of  Mdi 
who  died  in  1240,  after  having  beCu  created  a 
by  Gregory  IX. 

Another  SpaniBh  Dominiran  who  figures  it 
St.  Vinceht  Fbbeabib.  Ho  waa  iiom 
in  Spitin,  in  1357,  of  virtuous  and  Teliglous  parenls, 
wlio  stinted  tbemselrea  of  neeessBr;  tilings  to  provide 
for  Ilis  education  and  tbat  of  hti  brother  Boniface,  He 
took  the  habit  of  the  Order  of  St.  Uominick  in  hia 
Gighleentb  year;  and  became  one  of  die  greatest  preach- 
ers and  missionaries  of  that  Order,  There  vu  scarce 
a  provinCD  or  a  town  in  Enroiie  that  ho  did  not  visit ; 
he  preached  in  France,  Italy,  Spain,  and,  by  the  expresa 
invitation  of  Henry  IV.,  in  England. 

From  the  descripiioos  wo  have  of  this  saint,  it  ap- 
pears that  he  proilui'ed  his  cflect  by  appealing  to  the 
passions  and  f^Mtigs  of  his  congregntiun.  The  ordi- 
oary  subjeats  of  his  sermons  were  sin,  deatb,  the  jndg- 
menlt  of  Gtid,  hell,  and  eternity ;  delivered,  says  his 
oalo^l,  with  10  much  energy,  that  he  filled  the  most 
insensible  with  t  ' "  .       ~ 


preached  in 


Like  atiolhvr  Bosnerget  I 


7e  of  thunder ; 


BW^,  and  he  was  obliged  ii 


I 

I 


ST.    VINCENT  FERRARIS.  ^ 

and  &)glu  oriiia  congregation  hod  a  little  sabsidetl : 
pOBScaued  Iiimaolf  wliat  has  bocs  callod  an  extraordinuy 
gift  of  tears  ;  and,  take  him  allo^^lher,  this  saint  ap- 
pears to  be  B  Roman  Cutholic  WMtGcld.  It  is  eaid 
that  he  performoi)  many  mimclos,  and  that  preaching 
in  his  own  uingue  he  vmn  naden>load  by  men  of  di&r- 
ent  nations:  Greeks,  Germane,  Sardinians,  Hungariaos, 
and  othera,  declared  that  they  anderataod  eveiy  word. 
he  nltered,  though  he  preached  in  Iiatin,  or  in  the 
SpanisEi  dialect  aa  spoken  Qt  Valencia.  The  last 
jears  of  his  lito  were  spent  in  Brittany  and  Normal 
llien  doaolaled  by  the  English  iavoaiaa;  there  he 
seized  with  his  last  illness,  and  died  in  Vannes, 
Oi^e  of  62.  Jeanne  de  FcaDce,  duchess  of  BritCany, 
washed  his  hody  and  prepared  it  for  the  (traTO  with 
hm*  owa  haodd.  Ue  was  canonized  by  Calixtus  III. 
in  1455. 

The  prapr  attribute  of  this  aaint  is  the  crucifix,  held 
aloft  in  his  hand  as  preacher  and  misaionary.  In  allu- 
sion to  the  fervor  and  inepirotioa  whieh  characterized 
hii  dlatourSBS,  he  is  somotiinEs  represented  with  wings 
to  his  shoulders;  likening  him,  in  hta  character  of  a 
preacher  of  tho  Gospel,  lo  Iho  Evangelists,  being,  like 
them,  a  messenger  of  good  tidings  :  lint  I  am  not  sure 
that  this  attribute  has  boen  sanctioned  by  ecclesiastical 
authority;  and,  at  all  events,  these  large  emblematical 
wings,  in  cvDJDuctioo  wiih  the  Dominican  habit,  have 
a  strange  nncoath  effect. 

The  finest  esiating  pictare  of  him  is  that  of  Fr» 
Bartolomeo,  palmed  for  his  convent  of  San  Marco  at 
Florence:  it  represents  the  saint  addressing  hia  congre^- 
tioD  iram  the  pulpit,  one  lianil  extended  in  eKhonation, 
the  other  pointint;  to  heaven.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
thU  the  head  waa  painted  from  aome  known  portrait ; 
and  the  impiBsaive  ftrvor  of  the  counlenanco  and  man- 
ner most  have  lieen  characteristic,  as  well  as  the  feat- 
ures. It  is,  io  fact,  as  fine  as  possible,  io  ita  way. 
Here  he  has  no  wings ;  but  in  the  picture  by  Murillo, 
pt^t"^  ft  hundred  and  fifty  yean  later,  and  which  I  saw 


444  LSGENIiH  OF  TU£  MUi 


8t.  Htaciwth.  thongh  bq  cailv aaint,  [b  fonnd  only 
in  very  late  pirturcs. 

At  the  time  thnC  Si.  Dominirk  wnnt  Rome,  in  ISIS, 
Jvo,  bitbop  of  Crnroir,  and  rhanFeltor  of  I'olatK].  sr- 
rivcd  lho«  on  a,  miaaion  froin  bis  govermnpnt  to  die 
Hol;  Sm.  Id  his  train  wore  liis  two  nephews,  lljacinib 
Bnd  Ccslas.  Ivo,  moved  bj  the  prmrhiiigof  St,  Domi- 
nii'h,  and  the  saccena  which  attended  titi  miBdon,  re- 
quested of  him  to  send  some  of  (he  brethren  of  hie  Chder 
lo  preneh  the  Gospel  in  his  dismnt  snd  half-barbarous 
dioceHe.  DominiFk  cxniMsd  hlmBelf,  having  otherviaa 
<)i9pawd  of  all  his  diadples.  This  circa mettince  made  a 
di^ep  impression  upon  Hjncinth,  the  eldest  of  the  bish- 
op's ncpbewt,  of  whom  we  are  now  to  speak.  He  was 
horn  of  the  noble  Bimily  of  the  Aldrovnneki,  one  of  the 
must  illosCrioas  in  Silesia,  had  rertniily  completed  his 
siudies  (K  Bologna,  and  was  dislingnished  by  his  virtue, 
talents,  piety,  and  modesty,  and  hy  the  pradenee  and 
capacity  wi^  which  he  mans^  llie  secnlsr  nfl^irs  of 
life  without  allawiiig  them  to  interfere  with  his  religions 
dntioa.  He  was  struck  by  the  preaching  of  St.  Domi- 
nick,  and  by  the  recollection  of  the  barbarism,  the 
heatlicniflm,  the  i^orance  which  prevailed  in  many 
parts  uf  his  native  country ;  he  oflered  himself  as  a 
missionaiy.  and,  with  his  cousin  Ceslas,  he  took  iha 
liable  of  the  Order  of  St.  Dominiclt,  and  pronounced 
ills  vows  in  tliB  Church  of  St.  Sabina  at  Rome.in  1318. 
The  event  showed  that  it  was  in  no  transient  fit  of 
enthiuiaem  that  lie  took  this  resolation.  From  that 
time  he  devoted  liimsolf  to  the  preaching  of  the  Oospol 
in  the  wild  unaetiled  coumriea  of  the  North ;  he  pene- 
trated to  the  shores  of  llie  Black  Sea,  he  preached 
amongst  the  Tartani,  the  Rnssians,  the  Sclavonians  ; 
thence  IrayollinB  towards  the  North,  ho  preached 
amongn   tlie   Danes,   the    Swedes,   ihu   Norwegians, 


I 


■nfl  in  other  conDtriea  round  the  Bslcic :  it  U  raid 
that  ho  led  no  region  unviaited,  from  the  borders  of 
Scotlaod  to  China.  If  we  conaidci'  in  what  a  coadician 
these  GonntrieH  etil)  were  in  the  Chinoenth  ceniorj-,  his 
misslonRrj  services  pan  only  he  compaied  in  »oiiie  which 
hftvo  {UBtinguished  tliese  later  days. 

Byacinth  had  to  tra*enie  unialiBhiCcd  wilda,  uncleared 
Giregts  still  ioresled  with  wild  hensts,  hordes  of  barba- 
riuu  to  whom  the  voii«  of  the  Goupcl  hod  never 
reached;  —  on  foot,  without  arms,  and  thinlj  clad, 
without  money,  without  an  interpreter,  often  without  a 
gnide,  and  truetiiig  only  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  in 
Divine  Providence.  Thna  (brtj  jcara  of  his  life  wore 
spent.  Worn  out  by  fatigue,  he  had  merely  strength  to 
retora  to  his  ceil  in  the  monaatery  of  hia  Order  which 
be  had  founded  at  Cracow,  and  died  there  on  the  IStb 
of  Augoat,  1357.  Ho  was  canonized  by  Clement  VIII., 
more  than  lhi«e  hundred  years  ntler  hia  deaUi,in  1594, 
Anne  of  Austria,  wife  of  Lewia  XIII.,  carried  into 
France  her  hereditary  veneration  for  St.  Hyncinth.  At 
her  request,  Lodiehkus,  king  of  Poland,  sent  her  some 
relics  of  the  saiat,  which  she  placed  in  the  Dominican 
conrent  at  Paris,  nnd  he  bocame  an  object  of  the  popu- 
lar veneration.  This,  1  presume,  ia  the  reason  why  ao 
many  pictures  of  St.  Hyacinth  are  found  in  the  churches 
of  Paris  even  to  this  day. 

The  effigiea  of  St.  Hyacinth  represent  him  in  the  habit 
of  his  Order,  bearing  the  cruDilix  as  prcaclicr,  and  tre- 
quenCly  the  pix  containing  the  Host  (Le  Saint  Cil)oirc). 
It  is  related  of  him,  that  when  his  ujnvent  at  Kiov  in 
Rusaia  was  sacked  by  the  Tartars  he  escaped,  carrying 
vpith  him  the  pix  and  the  ima<^  of  the  Virgin,  which 
he  had  snatched  up  from  the  altar.  On  arriving  at  the 
bonki  of  the  Dniester  he  found  it  swollen  to  a  ngiog 
torrent :  the  liarbarians  were  behind  him ;  and,  resolved 
that  the  sacred  objecu  he  bore  shonld  not  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  pagans,  after  rocommendjng  himself  to  . 
Heaven  he  flung  himself  into  tlie  stream: 


446  LKGKSDS  OF  THE  M0SA8TIC  ORDERS. 

mirmmtoualy  aDstnined  tiim,  and  he  miked  orer  their 
■aiiv^  M  if  it  had  been  dry  land.  Thui  it  tlie  incideat 
of  hi*  Nfo  whifih  is  usually  represented  in  his  pielurea, 
•nil  (treat  rare  mtut  be  token  not  to  confoQnit  him  with 
St.  Raymund. 

Another  of  his  mimdes  was  the  resuacllatton  of  a 
droirned  youth,  who  had  ramflined  lifelois  for  twenty- 
Toar  hoars. 

All  the  pirturee  I  hnva  met  with  of  lliis  anint  ha»e 
heen  punted  since  the  dHte  of  his  canoiiixalioQ,  and  axe 
found  in  the  Dominic&D  convents ;  — 


(I^ov 


By  L.  Caracci :  The  apparition  of  the  Virgin  and 
Child  Id  St.  Hyacinth.  An  angel  holds  a  tablet,  on 
which  nro  inscribod  iho  words  whirh  the  Virgin  ad- 
dresses lo  him  :  —  "Be  at  jieace,  O  Hyacinth  1  for  thy 
prayers  arc  agreeablE  to  mj  Son,  and  all  that  thou  shalt 
ask  of  bira  through  me  shall  be  gmnlcd."  (FelsJna 
Piilrice,  »ol.  i.  p.  292,  edit.  1841.)  Painted  for  the 
Capet  la  Turin!  in  Bologna,  but  carried  off  by  the  French, 
and  never  restored.  There  is  an  iote reeling  account  of 
this  pictoro  in  Malvaaia.  When  Guido  firet  saw  it  ha 
stood  silent,  and  then  c:tchumod  that  "it  \ifia  enough 
to  make  a  painter  despair  and  throw  away  hie  pencils  !  " 
How  different  from  the  modest  Correggio'a  "nne/i'  io 
tono  pillore  " .'  The  siirht  of  exeelteuce  makes  tlie  oatH 
man  —  not  tlie  great  man  —  deapair. 

By  Malos^o  of  Cremona:  St.  Hyaciath  preaches  (o 
a  multitude,  and  conierts  the  heathen  by  curing  the  bite 
□f  a  scorpion  which  ties  at  his  feet.  Painted  for  the 
Church  of  the  DomioiciinB  at  Cremona. 

By  Brizzio :  St.  Hyacinth  restores  a  drowned  youth 
IFA/tRa/alo),      A  very  fine  dramatic  picture,  ' 
Cbnrch  of  St.  Dominick  at  Bologna. 

In  the  modem  decomtJoni  of  "  Notre  Dune  dft  fl 


BT.  LOUIS  BELTRA.V.  447 

rette"  nt  Paris,  we  find  in  two  Uree  fpeacoa  the  two 
famous  tniraclea  of  St.  Hyocintb.  The  first  represents 
the  restoration  of  the  drowned  youth :  in  the  other  he 
is  oa  (he  point  of  crossing  the  Dniester. 


St.  Lotus  Bbltran,  or  Bertband,  a  native  of 
Valencia,  and  a  cetebraCed  Dominican  preacher  and 
missionary  in  the  sixteenth  centurj.  He  believed  him- 
self called  by  God  to  spread  the  light  of  the  Gospel 
throt^h  the  New  World,  and  embarked  fbr  Fern,  when 
he  spent  several  jears.  It  was  not,  says  his  biographer, 
from  the  blindness  of  the  heathens,  but  from  the  cmeliry, 
avarice,  and  profligacy  of  the  Chcjstians,  that  he  en- 
conntered  the  greatest  obstacles  to  his  sDCceaa.  Aflet 
a  nun  allenipc  m  remedy  these  disorders,  he  returned 
to  Spain,  died  at  Valencia,  and  vraa  canooized  by  Clem- 
ent X.  in  1671.  He  was  a  friend  of  St.  Theresa,  and 
Mems  to  have  been  a  sincere  and  ener^lic  man  as  well 
as  an  exemplary  priest. 

Pictures  of  this  saint  abound  in  the  Dominicaa 
churches  in  Spain,  and  particularly  in  the  Valencian 
Rchool.  I  do  not  know  that  he  is  disdngaished  by  any 
particular  attribute :  he  would  wear,  of  course,  the  habit 
of  his  Order,  and  carry  the  cmciRx  as  preacher;  Fern- 
vian  scenery  or  Peruvian  converts  in  the  l>ackgroaitd 
nonid  fii  the  identity. 

In  the  year  1617  (the  year  in  which  he  was  declared 
■  Beato],  the  pl^ue  hrote  ont  at  Valencia,  and  tbs 
painter  Espinosa  placed  himself  and  his  family  onder 
the  guardianship  ol*  San  Lonis  Bellraa,  vho  preserved, 
by  his  intercession,  the  whole  family.  Espinosa,  in 
gratitnde,  vowed  to  his  protector  a  series  of  pictarea, 
which  lie  plat'cd.  in  1655,  in  the  chapel  of  the  saint  in 
the  convent  of  San  Domingo  at  Valencia.  Thej  an 
said  to  be  in  "a  masterly  style  " ;  but  the  sabjecu  we 
not  mentioned. 

There  is  a  picture  of  him  In  the  Cbtirch  of  8.  Hm!*- 


44l  LEGEXOS  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  ORDERS. 


8ixT*  Ros*  Dr  Lima,  I  believe  tlie  only  a 
female  laint  of  ihe  New  World,  wtu  bora  at ! 
Peru,  in  IS8S.  "  Tbii  flower  of  saouliLj,  whoso  fra- 
granco  has  filled  the  whole  CbrUdoa  worM,  is  tlie 
pBtimMHB  of  Amerirj^  the  St.  Tbercsn  of  TranGBtluitic 
8pBiu."  (HtirlinK'H  ArtUls  of  Spain,  p.  1008.)  She 
was  iliHiinuiiuilied,  Ja  the  first  place,  by  her  auaierjtioi. 
"  Her  usual  food  wub  an  herh  bitter  as  wormvood. 
When  compelled  b;  her  mother  to  wear  a  wreath  of 
nwei,  she  so  adjusted  it  on  her  brow  that  it  became  s 
crown  of  thoma.  Bejet'ting  s  host  of  suitors  she  de- 
ttrofed  the  loreljr  comple^iOD  lo  which  sbe  owed  her 
name,  by  an  application  of  popper  and  qaickljine.  Bat 
she  was  also  a  uoble  example  of  filial  devotion,  sad 
loaintainEd  her  onea  wealthy  parents,  fallen  on  evil 
days,  by  the  labor  of  her  hands."  All  day  slis  lolled 
in  a  garden,  and  at  night  she  worked  with  her  needle. 
She  look  the  liabit  of  the  Tliird  Order  of  St.  Dominick, 
and  died  in  1617.  She  waa  canoniied  by  Claraenl  X. 
According  to  the  Fernvian  legend,  tlie  pope,  when 
entreated  to  canonize  her,  abaolntely  refnaed,  exclaim- 
ini;  " Indiay  sanlal  ast  amia  U\Kvea  rosu!"  (India 
and  saint  1  as  likely  m  that  it  should  rail 
whereupon  a  miraculous  Bhower  of  roses  be^ 
in  the  Vatican,  and  ceased  not  till  the  irtcrednlouB  pi 
tiff  ncknowledged  himself  convinced. 

The  best  pictores  of  this  saint  aio  hj  the  laie  Spai^ 
painters.  One  by  Mnrillo,  which  has  been  enj^raTS 
represents  her  crowned  with  (horns,  anil  holdini  " 
hand  fnll-hlown  roses,  on  wlii^:b  rests  the  Sgure  of  d 
Infant  Saviour. 

A  hu^B  picture  of  St.  Rosa  di  Lima,  with  the  Infi 
Sarioar,  on  which  is  inscrilied  the  Qame  of  Mur 
in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Boukca,  at  Kingston 


THE  CARMELITES. 


I 


Thb  Cabhbliteb. 

Itat.  I  QUTBinl.    Wr.  Les  CinuBS. 

Nbiteceb  b3  an  Order,  nor  individual!, 
Carraelilea  inieresiing  or  important  in  the 
to  art. 

They  prBtend,  as  I  hBTB  already  obHtryed,  to  a  very 
high  anttqoity,  irluimiDg  as  patriarcb  and  founder  tlia 
prophet  Elijah,  "  who  dwelt  solitary  in  tlio  midst  of 
Carmel :  "  he  gave  example  to  many  devout  ancliorites. 
or  whom  an  nnintemipCed  enui^ession  fram  iLo  days  of 
Elijah  inhabited  Mount  Carmel,  and  early  embraced 
the  Christian  faith  ;  and  thia  commnnity  of  the  Her- 
nin  of  Mount  Carmel  continued  till  the  thirteenth 
centtiry.  They  built  a  monustery  near  the  funntain 
of  EeliaB  (Elijah),  and  an  oratory  dedicated  to  the 
Virgin,  thence  called  "  Oar  Lady  of  Monnc  Carmd  " 
("La  Madonna  del  Carmine") :  hut,  aa  yet,  they  had 
no  vrritten  rule  ;  wlieruRire,  hy  the  advice  of  one  of 
their  number,  Bonhold  by  name,  thoy  desired  of  Albert, 
patriarch  of  Jerasolem,  that  he  would  give  them  a  rule 
of  diacipline.  He  prescribed  to  them  a  form  taken  from 
the  rule  of  St.  Basil,  but  more  severe ;  and  a  party- 
colored  mantle  of  white  and  red  stripes,  —  for  snch, 
according  to  an  ancient  tradilion,  waa  the  miracle- 
working  mantle  of  Elijah  the  prophet,  iho  tnantla 
famed  in  Holy  Writ.  When,  however,  the  Carmelites 
arrived  in  the  west,  and  Pope  Honorius  III.  was  induced 
to  conlirm  the  Rule  of  the  Order,  he  altered  the  color 
of  the  mantle,  and  appointed  that  it  ahould  ho  white, 
and  worn  over  a.  dark-brown  tunic.  Hence,  in  Eng- 
land, the  Carmelites  were  called  White  Friars.  They 
were  introduced  into  this  country  direct  from  Palestine, 
by  Sir  John  de  Vesci  on  his  return  from  the  Holy 
Wars.     He  settled  them  near  hta  castle  at  Alnwi 


4J* 


LEGEA'OS  OF  1U£  UOySSTlC  OHDEBU. 


I 


•Dd  Ibtr  b««aRi«  eabu()iisn[l7  more  numenitia  tad  pop- 
ular hero  ihvi  in  anj  other  coanti;  uS  Eorope  befoto 
the  time  of  Si.  Thcieaa.  The  third  Geoerai  or  djeir 
Order  woi  wi  English  Connolile.  Si.  SitnoD  Stock, 
wlio  introduced  an  ahcrahon  in  the  habit,  the  scaptdary, 
tlie  long  DBTTOw  strip  or  cloth  hitagiDg  down  to  tiie  feet, 
of  the  lamo  L-olor  as  the  tunic :  thia,  in  |>irlures,  difr 
ungniabea  ihe  CarmeliiBi  ham  ttio  PremonstrucDaians, 
wlio  also  wear  ibn  brovtn  tooiu  mad  white  cloak,  but 
DO  BCapnlary. 

The  Camielilcs  chora  for  tlie  proteciresi  of  tb^ 
Order  the  Virgin  Mary ;  and  Uouoiius  IIL  comtnai 
that  they  should  Im  etyled  "  The  Family  '  '  ' 
Bleased  Virgin."  Hence,  in 
CannelitM,  the  Virgin,  under  ber  title  of  the  "  Mat 
tU  Carmine,"  holds  such  a  ronspJcuoaa  plact 
beqaently  exhihiled  atandiitg  with  her  while  nuiailo 
outspread,  ahile  lier  "  Family  "  —  the  ftiars  and 
of  the  Order  —  are  galliered  beneath  ici  protecting  folds; 
and  among  them  St.  Albert  as  bi&hop,  St.  Angelus  tha 
Martyr,  and,  in  hits  pictures,  St.  Theresa  of  Spain,  are 
geuerall;  distinguished  above  the  trst. 

The  roaary,  having  been  instituted  in  especial  honor 
of  the  Virgin,  also  found  favor  wiih  the  Cannel 
and  sometitnes  the  Virgin  is  representud  as  presci 
a  rosary  to  a  Carmelite  saint. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  Tirgin,  we  lind,  it 
Cnrmelile  churches,  Elijah  the  propliel,  as  pacriiuch  of 
the  Order,  or  the  Scriptural  Btorice  of  bis  life.  "  ' 
fed  by  raveiu  in  the  wildemesB  ;  or  he  is  socriScing 
Mount  Carmel  before  die  priests  of  Baal 
CHrried  np  lo  heaven  in  the  chariot  of  fire.  Thus  a 
whole  Korim  of  subjects  from  the  life  of  Elijah  dDcontttH 
the  cioislerB  of  the  Carmini  at  Florence;  and  on  enter- 
ing the  Camtini  at  Venice  the  lirst  objects  which  atrike 
us  aie  the  statues  in  while  marble,  of  Elijah  and  Eli  ' 

re  shall  gene 


I 
I 


SI.  AtBBnT,  hiflhop  of  Vereelli,  and  pntriarch  of 
Jeniaalem,  reganled  \>j  hisMrians  at  the  real  founder 
of  iKe  Cariaeliie  Onler.  He  neaci  Che  episcopal  robca, 
and  carrioa  Che  palm  as  manjr;  (or  ic  [a  recoriicd  In 
hla  Life,  that  heiog  Bamraoned  from  Palestine  by  Inno- 
cent III.  to  attend  n  council  in  the  Laleran,  as  he  iraa 
preparing  to  etnhark  he  was  aBBassinaled  at  Aero  by  a 
wieCch  whom  he  had  reproved  for  his  trimes.* 

In  the  cathedral  at  CrDmona  thej  pre^rve  a  Biiign- 
lar  andent  vessel  ornamented  at  the  four  corners  with 
winged  moaaters,  aod  apparently  of  the  ninth  or  tenth 
oentory,  in  which,  arcordinjj  w  tradition,  St.  Albert 
kneaded  bread  for  the  poor. 

St.  Akoeldb  tlio  Carmplito,  bearing  the  pnli 
martyr,  is  found  id  lato  pictures  only.  ACTorrting 
Che  apocryphal  legend,  this  St.  Angulus  came  from  1  ^ 
East  ahonl  the  year  1217,  landed  in  Sicily,  and  preached 
at  Palermo  and  Messina.  He  was  aaaassioatfld  by  a 
eert^n  Count  Beranger,  a  powerful  loni  of  Chat  conn- 
try,  who  for  several  years  hod  lived  openly  in  tinhal- 
lowed  nnioQ  with  hia  own  aisCar.  St.  Aogelo  rehuked 
him  seyerely,  03  John  the  Baptist  had  formerly  relinked 
Herod,  and  found  the  same  recompense.  By  command 
of  Berenger  he  was  hunt;  upon  a  tree  and  shot  with  ar- 
rowa  :  at  leant  his  martyrdoni  ia  thos  represented  in  a 
disagreeable  pictnra  by  Ludovico  Caracci,  where  Sl 
Ai^lo  is  hanging  from  a  tree  with  his  white  and  brown 
habit  fluttering  against  the  hluesliy ;  —  the  rily  of  Paler- 
mo, very  like  Che  city  of  Bologoa,  being  seen  in  tbt 
bkckjpDund. 

Another  picCure  by  the  same  painter  represents  tlie 
i  SU  Altert  Ikt  CarmilUn  hIUi  St. 


upilrw 


Le  Albert,  ftgurtj 


pTintA  ot  the  RVftntoc 


«S»  LEGE. 

nippoKd  m 
Doniinirk ; 
ematSanl 

Both  tlie 
41  BoloBD^ 

^^m           Ihftveiet 

^^^      ted  ■nd 

^^M      of  his  oloqi 

^^V       gnccfbl  uii 

^^            In  Ihe  J 

Saaaonm  ( 

diKTedit  on 

U  <^hLmi!rici 

of  Ihe  Carr 

^^B       most  biuer 

^^B      ingT?  in  ret 

^K      of  Sl  There 

l^^f      tb&t  the;  pr 

7^^       volumm  by 

who  beiongt 

pope.4!»iDsi 

between  tlic 

ta  rrnnZ 

^H        jeot  from  tt 
^M           It  <viia  dc 

^^            of  t)m  EOVKD 

the  Cnnnsli 
ones,  whiiJ. 

BPUM 

XDS  OF  THE  UOSASnC  0/t^^^^^H 

eetinit  of  St.  Ancelo,  St.  Fnncis.  and  fl^^H 
or.  a>  it  is  cx])ieHed  in  IlslJaa,  "  San  /W|^^^| 

se  pictures  were  painted  for  llie  Cartnelitea 

and  are  in  the  Academy  there.* 
in  prints  and  pictures  of  Si,  Angeto  in  nhich 
te  ra«»  are  falling  from  his  mouth,  symbols 
lenre;  and  I  remomber  one  in  which  twi. 
{clB  are  picking  up  the  rosea  as  Ihay  fall, 
cat  1668  the  learned  authors  of  the  Ada 
known  sa  the  Bollandists)  not  only  threw 
iho  whole  legend  of  St,  Augelo,  but  treated 
il  the  sDpposed  orifpn  and  high  antiquity 
nelites  as  an  Order.      Thereupon  arose  a 

coniBSi.     The  Carmeliica  were  loud  and 
ntatioti  and  expostulation.     From  the  tima              ' 
«B  they  had  had  so  rou.h  inflnence in  Spain, 

sd  to  the  Society  of  Jcanita  appealed  to  the 

:  this  judgment ;  and  the  dispute  ran  so  high 

:  Carmelilea  and  Jesnils,  and  cansed  such 

Ida],  that  Innocent  XII.  published  a  hncf, 

5  the  two  parties  to  ke«p  silBGco  on  tlio  sub- 

iBt  time,  forever. 

irlog  this  contest,  that  is,  shout  the  middle 

tecnth  century,  that  we  find  the  churches  of 

les  filled  with  pictures,  in  EOneral  very  had 

were  intended  us  an  assertion  of  their  claima               1 

to  sopotlor  annctit;  as  well  as  enperior  antiquity  i-~ 
'[               pictnres  of  Elijah,  aa  tlicir  patrinrch ;  of  St.  Alhert,  aa 
^^H       their  lawgiver ;  of  Sc,  Ancelo,  as  iheir  martyr  ;  of  St. 
^^H       Simon  Sloclt,  receiving  tlie  at^aputary  from  the  haodi 

^^H          •  They  were  fonnerlr  MyLed  irali}«t>  trw  tha  life  nr  &m  Piv                ■ 
^^H       ADgdabubHattU^lDqneUlai.                                           ^^^H 

BT.   TBERE8A.  453 

of  ^  Vu^a;  tuid,particiilBr]7,ofib^r  great  taint,  the 
"  Sernfica  Madre  Teresa,"  of  whom  we  are  now  to  speak. 


a  Terew,  rmtdaulae  del  Scaill.  Fr.  SHlnta  ThiriM  I 
M  Cuin«-D«cliBDS8«s.  Sp.  LaNuntmBenflinUad 
ereudeOHil.    falroaen  a[  Spain.    Oct.  IT,  1693. 


ffima  Craihaa'i  Hymn  "Id  memaiT  ol  IbB  TtrOtooi 
and  lisriKd  ladye  Mtdn  dc  Tcnu,  that  BQUtllt  Ml 
«arl7  martyrdom.")  ^ 

St.  TsBRBsa,  even  setting  aside  her  character  M 
■aint  and  patronesa,  was  an  extraordinary  woman,  — 
witlioat  doabt  the  most  extraordinary  woman  of  her 
age  and  coantiy;  which,  perhaps,  is  not  aaying  niach,  m 
that  coantry  was  Spain,  and  she  lived  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  But  she  would  have  been  a  remarkable  woman 
in  an/  aji^e  and  country.  Under  no  circamalaocet 
could  her  path  through  life  have  been  ihe  highway  of 
commonplaL-e  mediocrity;  uoder no circumatances could 
the  stioam  of  hor  existence  have  held  its  eourae  nn- 
tronbled ;  for  nature  had  given  her  great  gifta,  large 
faculties  of  all  kinda  for  good  and  evil,  a  fervid  tempera* 
ment,  a  most  poetical  and  "shaping  power"  ofimagiiMt- 
tioo,  a  strong  will,  singular  eloquence,  an  extraordinary 
power  over  [he  minds  and  feelings  of  othera,  —  geoina, 
in  short,  with  all  la  terrible  and  glorious  privileges. 
Tet  what  was  she  to  do  with  tbese  energies,  —  this  go- 
Dinsl     In  Spain,  in  the  sixteenth  ceoturj,  what  wink- 


4» 


issi'.vos  OF  rat-  monastic  oB 


I 


jni! iidieni axaHil  for*uch  ^spirit  tod|;ail  inswoniBD'i 
rom  1  Mf.  Bonl  aiUs  hor  a  "  iQve-Mck  nun  "  ;  in  BOnra 
rmjiecu  tlie  epilliel  maj  be  dciervod,  — but  tlicre  have 
ticcD,  I  BID  afraid,  soino  [houtandii  of  luvftajck  niuu : 
llicru  have  been  few  women  like  St.  Thereaa.  It  ia 
Impossible  to  consider  in  a  JDSt  and  pliiloaophic  ipiiiC 
dlficr  her  character  or  her  history  witjiout  fteling 
what  was  etronc,  and  beaulifut,  and  ttac,  and 
and  hulv,  was  in  henelf ;  and  what  was  moi-bid, 
bic.  Bod  miataken,  wan  the  rsdU  of  the  inili 
arouad  her 


Theresa  d'Avila  was  bom  al  A-vila  in  Castile 
SSih  of  March,  iSIS,  one  of  twelve  children.  1 
ther,  Dan  Alfonso  Sanchez  de  Cepeda,  was  a  nobli 
of  dintirguiahed  charoPter,  exceedingly  pic 
mother,  Bi'Hlrix,  appears  to  have  bun  in  all  respects 
an  admirable  woman ;  licr  only  &nlt  was,  that  she  was 
a  little  loo  rnucli  givan  lo  rEadinf  romances  and  books 
oF  chivalry.  BelwceD  the  piety  of  the  latlier  and  the 
romance  of  the  motlier  was  the  character  of  Theresa 
fbnnDd  in  her  childhood,  and  these  early  impreaiions 
inSoenced  her  through  life.  Amongst  her  brothers  was 
one  whom  she  diatinguished  by  particular  afiection  :  she 
tells  OS  that  they  road  together  the  live*  of  the  saints 
and  the  holy  roartyra,  until  they  were  filled  with  iho 
most  passionate  desire  of  obtaining  for  themselves  the 
cniwn  of  martyrdom  ;  and  when  they  were  children  of 
eight  or  nine  yesrs  old,  the;  aet  off  on  &  begging  expedi- 
tion into  the  country  of  the  Moors,  iu  hopes  of  being 
taken  by  the  iaHdels  and  aacrilioed  Ibr  their  faith.  Slie 
adds  ttkat,  when  ilie  and  her  little  luotlier  were  study- 
ing the  lives  of  the  saints,  what  most  imprcsH-d  iheir 
miads  was,  to  read,  at  every  page,  lliat  tlie  penaltias 
of  the  damned  arc  to  be  forever,  and  the  glory  uf  the 
blca«d     ■      '  ~.         .    .  .        .     ._ 


aer^^^H 


of  el 


bees,  awe-struck,  ■ 


r,  and  they  repealed,  looking  in  each  oth«r)L 


:  I  forei-er  I  forever !  "  and  (I 


idea  tilled  tliem  botb  with  a  vague  terror.    As  the;  bf 


I 
I 


8T,   THERESA. 

I  fluBppoiated  ia  their  hope  of  ublsitiiot;  mtrtjrdoii 
miDonjpt  tlie  Moors,  the;  resolvuil  to  mm  hermits;  liut 
to  this  also  they  were  prevenled.  Uoivoi'er,  she  telli 
na  tliiit  she  f^re  all  her  porkot-moncy  in  alma  ;  and  if 
aha  played  with  other  children  of  her  age,  they  wcrs 
always  naos  and  friars,  walking  iu  mimic  proeeasians, 
and  Binging  hjnina,  Theresa,  lD9t  her  mother  at  the  aga 
of  tirelTV,  a  loss  to  her  irreparable :  what  her  dcsliniei 
might  havo  haon,  had  this  parBnt  lived,  it  la  in  vain  to 
apecnlale.  The  few  years  whicli  follow  exhibit  her  as 
pasaing  froni  oao  extrama  to  anothor.  Tlia  loveof  pleai- 
ara,  the  love  of  drees,  self-lave  and  the  pride  of  positiun, 
the  desire  lo  bu  lorad,  to  be  adisired,  — all  (he  poisioaa 
■ad  ffaailn^,  in  ehiirl,  oataral  id  a  younj;  i^rl  of  her 
■ge,  endowod  with  very  extmardiaary  taeullies  of  all 

kiad«,  made  her  impationt  of  restr^at  The  influenea 
of  aome  worldly-minded  relations,  and,  almva  all,  the 
incroasiag  Uuce  for  poetry  and  romaaco,  caaspirod  lo 
diminish  in  her  mind  the  pious  influences  whjuh  had 
beea  sawn  there  in  her  early  youtli.  In  fact,  at  the 
•ge  of  sixiDCn,  tliere  seems  lo  have  raniiunGd  no  settled 
principle  in  her  mind  but  that  thorouk^ly  forainiDB 
priociplB  of  womanly  dignity.  Her  fatlier,  humtver, 
■eems  to  have  been  aware  of  the  dangers  to  which  sha 
was  exposed,  and  placed  her  in  a  convent,  with  ordora 
that  afae  should  be  Icopl  for  a  time  in  strict  sei^liision. 

la  a  ^rl  of  a  diffcront  character  thia  would  have  been 
ft  peritoua  experiment.  With  Theresa  her  enthusiaslit: 
andanlfint  oatnra  took  at  once  the  torn  towards  religion. 
Sometliing  whispered  to  her  that  she  could  be  Hafe 
nowhere  but  within  the  wills  of  a  cloister :  aho  abhorred 
the  idea  of  a  marriage  which  had  been  proponed  to  hei, 
fant  aha  equally  abliorreJ  tiie  idea  of  seclosioa.  In  the 
midst  of  iheao  internal  stmgglea  she  fell  dangerously 
in.  A  feeling  of  die  vnnily  and  insccurily  of  all  earthly 
■    '   r  anijtlier  at 


wliidi  ended  ir 


other  lit  of  ill'i' 


a,  she  took  to  imd- 


iag  (he  epistles  of  St,  Jerome,  and  this  decided  bet 
Bhe  oblained  tlie  p 


I 


4;6  LEGENDS  Of  THE  MOKASTIC  ORDEOB. 

lo  Utke  the  ruwa  ;  liul,  paatiorutlu  in  itll  Iter  aDectiDiiB, 
I  from  lier  fnmily  had  ncBrly  rcwl  her  her 
t  twcnr^  whcm  she  enlrretl  the  convent  of 
the  Carmelitca  Bt  Avila.  After  she  had  pronounced 
her  vowt.  her  mind  Iwraine  more  settled  ;  not,  however, 
her  health,  which  Tor  many  yoLts  seems  lo  ha>e  been  ia 
«  moci  pnxarioiu  scale.  She  tells  us  that  the  passed 
mMrty  iwenlj  jean  williout  fiseling  that  repose  for 
wliii-h  she  hsd  hoped  when  she  eacriliced  the  world, 
Slie  draws  a  atriking-  pirtnre  of  her  condilion  at  this 
litno.  "  On  one  side  I  wu  cBlled  as  it  were  hy  Uod, 
on  the  otlier  side  I  was  lempled  by  Tci>t«ls  (av  the 
world.  I  wished  Co  eomhioe  id;  aspirations  towards 
heaven  with  my  earthly  Byrapathies,  ajid  t  fonnd  that 
this  was  impossible ;  1  fell,  —  1  rose,  bat  it  was  only 
to  bll  again  ;  I  had  neither  ihe  calm  satlsfiiciiDii  of  a 
soul  rerondied  with  God,  nor  coold  1  taste  those  ptoaii' 
ores  which  were  oflered  bj  the  world.  I  tried  lo  think, 
altd  conid  not  think ;  diflj^nst  and  weariness  oriire  seized 
Dpon  me;  and  in  the  midst  of  pious  mcdiralions  and 
prayeiB,  nsj,  iu  the  mtdsl  of  ihc  services  of  the  Church, 
I  woa  impationC  dll  the  bell  rang  and  relieved  me  from, 
duties  to  which  I  could  ^ve  but  half  my  heart.  But 
BC  Icn^  God  took  pity  upon  me ;  I  read  the  Confes- 
sions of  St  AagoBiine ;  I  saw  how  he  had  been  tempt- 
ed, how  he  had  been  tried,  and  at  length  how  he  had 
conquered."  This  seema  to  have  been  the  tnmini!- 
point  in  her  life.  She  threw  herself  with  more  confi- 
dence upon  the  resources  of  prayer,  and  at  length  her 
entbasiosEic  and  reblless  sptrit  found  peace.  When  her 
mind  was  too  distraclcd  or  loo  weak  for  the  exaltalioa 
□f  rehgions  thonght.  instead  of  tormenting  herself  with 
Tain  reproach  and  penance,  abe  Boutrhi  and  found  relief 
and  a  fresh  excitement  to  piety  in  the  pracdce  of  works 
of  charity:  she  laborEd  with  her  hands:  she  tried  to 
fix  her  thoughts  upon  others  :  and  nothini^  is  more 
striking  in  Ihe  history  of  this  remarkable  woman  than 
Ibe  teal  j^Iy,  simpiiuity,  modesty,  and  good  sense 
which  every  now  atid  then  break  forth  in  the  midst  of 


ST.    THERESA. 

ber  riaiooary  aicitomont,  htr  oggtism,  her  preienaioiu  ~ 
to   saperior   Banctitj   and   peculiar    reyelaciona    irom 
heaven  :  —  tba  line  were  Dativo  to  her  c\ia.r. 
latter  foalered  and  flatlered  by  the  eccleaiulies  arnand 

II  WBS  in  tlie  year  15GI  that  she  coniteired  the  ii 
of  reforming  the  Order  of  tba  Carmclins,  i 
mrenil  diaordeca  bad  crept.  Most  of  the  n 
monasterj  entered  into  her  viewa  :  miLny  gf  tbe  iuh^itU 
lanta  of  her  native  Cnwii,  uver  whom  she  had  gradoallf 
■cqniled  a  strong  iaSnence,  assisted  her  with  moae/. 
Id  1562  aha  laid  the  fbundalioa  of  the  neiv  monastery 
at  Avila.  She  dedicated  it  lo  St.  Joseph,  the  spouse 
of  the  Virgin,  to  whom  she  had  enrly  vuived  a  particu- 
lar devotion,  and  whom  she  luid  I'hodeo  for  her  patron 
uiot.  It  ii  perhaps  for  this  reason,  us  well  as  in  his 
Miladon  to  the  Virgin,  that  wo  find  St  Joseph  a  popular 
BubjecC  in  the  Carmelite  cburclies,  and  particuLirlf  in 
those  dedicated  to  St.  ThereBa.  She  had  many  diffl- 
cnlcies,  many  obstacles  to  contend  with.  She  entered 
the  little  ooaveal  she  had  been  enabled  to  bnild  with 
eight  nuns  only  ;  but  in  the  course  of  twenty  yearn  she 
bad  not  only  refiirnied  the  female  members  of  her 
Order,  bat  had  introduced  more  strict  obligations  into 
the  oonvonts  of  the  men.  It  was  her  principle  that  the 
convents  of  the  Carmelites  nndcr  her  new  rule  sbaulit 
ulfaer  have  no  worldly  possessions  whatever,  and  liter' 
ally  exist  npon  the  charity  of  others,  or  that  Ihcy 
ihould  be  ao  endowed  oa  not  lo  require  any  external 
aid.  This  was  a  principle  from  which  her  aprritnal 
directors  obliged  tier  lo  depart ;  Bach,  however,  was 
ber  success,  that  at  the  period  of  her  death  she  had 
already  founded  seventeen  convents  for  women  and 
fifteen  for  men,  During  the  later  years  of  her  life,  her 
eathnsiastic  and  energetic  mind  found  ample  occnpo- 
lion.  She  ivaa  coaiinually  travellin);  from  one  convent 
to  another,  called  from  province  lo  province  lo  promal- 
SMe  her  new  regulations  Ibr  the  government  of  her 
"  '         She  bad  to  endure  much  opposition  and  par? 


«js  i,isi;i:j/ns  of  the  mohastic  ordbos. 

•ooDiian  Atini  ttw  Krian ;   and  b  sdiiim  took  plact 
whirh  obliEfil  (Jimwry  XV,  to  ianwfef*  Bail  to  dii " 
th«  CuTaeiim  into  two  diffnrcDt  conjn'eKatiDns,  _ 
ThcicM  Bt  tin   bead  of  that  uy\td  ttio  "Baivf 
CartnvKtea  "  :  in  Itol^,  UtaUi,  tliu  uoshud  ;  and 
tiiDua  Pmiri  Trnmmi, 

ItMidca  M>nipltin)!  cxliortatioiu  anil 
nM  of  hn  nans,  abc  wroto,  nl  ttio  cxpms  rommand  of 
licr  Epirilnal  dirwlon,  a  hiMoiy  of  licr  own  life  ;  ukd 
lull  boliind  licr  ooiuc  mjBtical  conipoeitionB,  ajn^ularly 
poelical  aud  eloquent,  even  jndgiug  from  ths  Fieoch 
Cnubawe  thiu  alludca  to  hu  wtitiogs  : — 


diTJda  I 

m 


"0, 'I 


«BllluU•l^ln 


I 


Somelimei,  indeed,  (he  lunirunge  has  the  oricnlaliETn 
of  tlie  CaQticlcs ;  and  in  tbra  instBRce,  be  in  othcn,  ma; 
it  Dot  be  possible  that  fervor  of  temperament  was  mia- 
laktn  tor  spirlrnal  aipiraiion  ?  Theresa,  in  the  nudit 
of  nil  her  terrorB  of  »in,  eonld  (iod  nothing  worw  to  aay 
of  Satan  himself  than  "  Poor  wreteh  I  he  loi'es  not  I  " 
Bnd  her  idea  of  hell  wait  thnt  of  a  plare  wheace  Idvd  ia 
baniahed.  It  eppmrs  to  me  ihot  iilie  via  ri^ht  in  both 
instanecB:  is  not  luiii,  oi  aerate  of  l«ing. Bnoihcr votd 
for  h^  f  and  does  not  the  incapacity  of  love,  with  con- 
adoui  intellect,  stamp  the  arch-fiend  ?  Bnt  I  am 
writing  a  hook  On  art,  not  on  morals  or  relif^on  ;  else 
there  would  be  something  more  to  b«  caid  of  the  works 
of  Tlioreea.  To  nMurn,  tliereibre,  to  my  subjerl,  and 
oonclade  the  life  of  oor  aaint.  She  hid  nsior,  Binni 
the  terrible  maladies  of  lier  youtli,  entirely  movered 
the  uw  of  her  litnbs,  and  imrciuing  jaia  Itroaghl 
iniveaung  infirmities.  In  1583  she  was  eeixed  with 
her  last  iliiiesi,  in  llte  pHloce  of  tlie  I>nc)icEs  of  Alva. 
She  tflfiwed,  however,  lo  remain  there,  and  was  carried 
back  to  her  convent  of  Sau  Jos&  She  died  a  few  dpys 
ofterwards,  repearing  tlio  verge  of  Iho  Miserere,  "  A 
iiwt™  and  a  tmlrite  liearl,  O  Lord,  Ihtni  milt  bo(  . ' 
fitie  wBi  canonized  in  1621  by  Gregory  XV., 
dediirod  b;  Philip  IIL  the  second  pou'on  nai 


I 


Spantsb  monarciiy  aTier  Santiago  ;  b,  docna  ealemalf 
conliniiDd  b;  iho  Spanish  Cortes  in  ISIS. 

Her  shtina  is  at  Avila,  in  tlie  church  of  her  convent. 

~  liQea  the  portal.     Tlie  cbapel  ia  u  very 

faol;  pl&oc,  and  frequented  by  pilgrims,  —  in  smsller 
numhen.  however,  than  horeWfiire. 
presume  to  ait  uti  the  bsucb  of  the  choir,  hue  only  oa 
(be  flepa,  because  Uio  former  were  Dccii[Hed  by  the 
Hngels  wheoeier  St.  Thereu  attendetl  mass."  (I  m 
observu  thai  the  angda  ore  aJraiyt  supposed  (o  a 
icviiibly  ol 

There  ia  bo  much  in  St.  Theresa's  llfb  and  c! 
eminently  picturoaquo,  tliat  I  mujt  regret  that,  MM 
subject  (^  art,  she  lias  been  —  uuE  neglectud.,  but,  h 
Hnaes  of  the  word,  ill-treated. 

The  anibencic  portraits  of  her  which  e; 
and  irhich  were  ail  taken  in  the  later  years  of  her  ll(^^ 
after  she  hod  become  celebrated,  and  also  corpulen 
infirm,  ropreseut  her  person  large,  and  her  featureH 


eavy,— 


In  the  devo 


tiaaal  B^uroa  she  is  generally  bneeliog  at  prayer,  whila 
an  angel  hovers  near,  piercing  bee  heart  with  a  flame- 
tipped  arrow  to  express  Che  fervor  of  Divina  love  with 
which  she  wm  aaimated.  All  the  Spanish  pictures  of 
ber  lin  in  this  respect ;  but  the  grossest  example,  — the 
most  ofTenaive,  —  is  the  marble  group  of  Bernini,  in  ths 
Santa  Maria  della  Vinoria  at  Rome.  The  head  of  St. 
Theceaa  ia  that  of  a  languishing  nymph ;  the  antral  is  a 
■ort  of  Eros  ;  the  whole  has  been  aignitiiintly  duacrihed 
■s  a  •'parodi/  of  Divine  love."  The  vehiolB,  white 
marble,  —  its  plaiie  In  a  Christian  church,  —  vnhittice 
all  ila  rileneaa.  The  least  deatracTivo,  the  least  prudish 
in  matters  of  art,  would  here  willingly  throw  the  firat 


Other  reprcseataiiona  of  St.  Theresa   exhibit  I 
looking  op  in  rapture  at  the  holy  dove,  whii'h  eK| 
'aim  to  direct  inspiration  made  for  her,  —  nt 


I 


4M  IKUtSOS  OF  rUJS  MOHASTIC  OBOEBS. 

her.  AnA  wniellmea  ihe  liolda  it  bnvt  with  the  name 
of  Jcma,  iho  I.H.S.,  en^n^vcd  oil  il :  us  in  s  ligure,  by 
Bnninntiao,  whii-h,  like  all  the  olhEf  IiBlun  tigurea 
ofttt.  Tbcraui,  ii  nhoUj  QDrharactGristic. 

"  An  cxnlknt  work  of  Kibitlui  adorns  Iho  caloon 
of  lliB  VktoDcian  AcHdemy  of  San  Carlos.  It  repre- 
tnntt  St.  Theresa  sealed  at  table  and  wriiing  from  the 
dlctaiioD  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  hoveling  at  her  ear  in  the 
liltoaou  of  ■  Bnow-whiw  dove ;  her  connteiiBiice  beam- 
ing with  hoavtnly  light."     (Artisli  of  Spoin). 

Tho  HncBt  picinre  I  have  seen  of  Si.  Thvroaa  ia  by 
Ttubeni,  painted  for  the  "  PeCits  Cannes  "  al  Antwerp, 
and  now  in  iho  Mbb^  of  that  city.  It  rcprewnis  the 
uint  pleading  at  tlie  feet  of  Ihe  Savioar  in  behalf  of 
Biuners  at  putgatorT.  In  the  Hubens-religious  style, 
in  color,  and  characler,  and  life,  this  pinure  U  aa  Roe 
■a  possible :  and  it  mast  accompiiah  its  purpose  in  point 
of  oxpresBion,  for,  si  I  well  recollect,  I  could  not  look 
on  it  without  emotion.  Rubens,  who  had  been  in 
Spain,  has  here  given  a  real  and  chsracterisde  portiBit 
of  the  saint.  The  features  are  lar^  and  heavy,  yet 
bright  with  enthusinaiie  adoration  end  benignity. 

Another  picture  by  tlie  same  jiainter  represents  St. 
Theresa  in  ber  cell,  enraptured  by  an  apparition  of  the 
Saviour;  on  angel  behind  him  bears  the  hre-lipped 
arrow  of  Divine  love.  This,  I  bolievo,  is  one  of  the 
few  pirturea  of  Itabecs  never  engraved. 

By  Massarotii :  —  St.  Theresa  intercedes  for  the  dty 
of  Cramoua  when  besieged  by  the  French. 

By  Guercino  :  —  St.  Tlieresn  wirh  her  patron  Bainl, 
Joseph.  Another,  in  which  our  Saviour  reveals  to  h«r 
the  glory  of  Famdise.  Another,  in  which  the  Virgin 
presents  to  hor  the  roBsry.  Another,  in  which  St. 
Theresa  receives  the  haliit  from  tho  hand  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  in  presence  of  her  patron  St.  Joseph,  St.  Al. 
ben,  and  St.  Jnnn  de  la  Cruz :  painted  for  the  Carme- 
lite nuns  at  Messina.     (Milan  Gal.) 

Altribnted  to  Alonzo  Cauo  (Sp.  Gal,  of  Kin^  Louis 
Philippe) :  —  A  St.  Theresa,  crowned  with  thorns  and 


1 


ST.    THERESA. 


461 


I 
I 


f  [he  Pnsaion. 
Another,  in  which  she  ministers  to  a  sick  cliild.  Bath 
pictarn  too  poor  and  bad  for  Alonzo  CaDO ;  the  beads, 
however,  are  chat'octeristk-. 

la  a  small  picCare  in  the  poesessioa  of  Mr.  Ford,  St. 
Theresa  is  kneeling  on  one  knee,  enstainlQ^  on  the 
other  an  opea  book,  in  which  ahe  is  about  to  write ;  an 
inkhom  Bud  a  distatf  He  at  her  fecc ;  above,  the  Holy 
Dove  is  Been  deerending  from  the  skiee.  On  a  prie- 
diflD  behind  ore  the  wards.  "  MiseriaH-dia  Domini  der- 
noBi  canSobo." 

There  are  aorao  piclnrcs  of  her  in  the  magnificent 
Cbarvh  of  the  Scnlzi  at  Venice,  bat  none  good. 

The  fame  and  the  effigies  of  St.  Theresa  have  been 
extended  lo  the  Emi.  Miaa  Martinean  found  a  figure 
of  her  in  the  convent  of  her  Order  on  Mount  Carmel ; 
and  I  extract  the  beautiful  and  animated  account  of 
this  picture,  as  equally  cliaracterislic  of  llie  writer  and 
tbe  eabject :  — 

"The  chnrch  of  the  convent  ia  bandsome;  and  it 
cont«io8  a  picture  worth  noting,  —  the  portrait  of  St. 
Theresa,  whom  I  agree  with  Bossuot  iu  lliinking  one 
of  ^e  moat  interesting  of  the  saints  of  his  Church. 
The  bringing  together  of  remote  thoughts  in  trB%-el  fa 
aa  remarkable  to  the  individual  as  tbe  tiringing  togeth- 
er of  remote  personages  in  the  action  of  human  life. 
Bow  I  naad  to  dwell  on  the  image  of  St.  Theroaa  in 
raj  childhood,  and  long,  in  an  ignorant  aympatli/ with 
licr,  to  bu  a  nun  I  Aud  then,  as  I  grew  wiser,  I  hc- 
nme  ashamed  of  her  desire  For  martyrdom,  as  1  should 
have  been  in  any  folly  in  a  fiialer,  and  kept  my  fondness 
for  her  to  myself.  But  all  iho  while  that  was  [he  The- 
reM  of  Spain ;  — now  wandering  among  the  Moors  in 
search  of  martyrdom,  and  now  shutting  herself  up  in 
her  hermitage  in  her  father's  garden  at  Aviia.  It  had 
never  occurred  to  me  that  I  should  come  upon  her 
traces  at  Mount  Carmel.  But  here  she  was,  worship- 
ped aa  the  reformatrix  of  her  Order.  It  was  slie  who 
made  tbe  Carmelites  barefooted  ;  i.  e.  sandalled.  inst«i 


^  LEOESDS  or  THE  MOXASnC  ORDEl 

of  shod,  tl  wni  iho  vha  diBmiaBed  all  the  indal^ 
which  had  crept  in  amung  her  Order ;  uiil  «he  obtai 
by  her  earnostiiBSB,  aach  ponrsr  orer  tin  haaer  pwW  w 
hutnan  nature  in  tliofie  ehe  had  to  deal  with,  as  lo  re- 
form Iho  Carmelito  Order  Hltogethoi :  witnraa,  beforo 
her  death,  the  foundation  of  thirty  convent!,  wherein 
licr  rule  was  lO  l»  pravd^vd  in  all  iu  severit;.  Mar- 
lyrdoiD  by  the  Moora  was  not  good  enough  for  hei ;  it 
would  have  been  tlw  nuire  grati&nttion  oT  a  selfiah  crav- 
ini;  for  spiritaol  safety.  She  did  much  mars  tor  Qod 
and  man  by  living  to  the  age  of  »ixly-«even.  and  bring- 
ing hock  the  true  spirit  into  the  corrupted  body  of  her 
Order.  There  iho  ii,  —  the  woman  of  genius  and  de- 
temiDatLon,  —  looking  at  na  from  out  of  Iter  stiff  head- 
gear, —  as  true  a  quoen  on  this  monntai 
empress  who  ever  wore  a  crown  !  "  —  EoMera  Life, 
iii,  p.  9SS. 


In  companionship  with  St.  Theresa  we  find 
Wend  Sjm  Jcah  db  j,a  Cbdi,  a  Spanish  Carmelite, 
whom  she  hud  united  with  herself  as  eosiljuloc  in  her 
plana  of  reform.  He  wan  ihL-  flrat  barefooted  Carmel- 
ite, and  fiunous  for  his  lerrilde  penances  and  mortifira- 
tions.  Uo  is  often  represented  in  pii'tares  with  SL 
Theresa,  kneeling  beftire  the  throne  of  the  Virgin.  He 
died  in  t5!)l,  and  was  canoniied  by  Clement  X.  in 
167^,  Mr.  Stirling  iDGnlians  a  ieriea  of  fifty-eight 
plaleB  on  the  blHtory  of  St.  Juiiu  de  la  Cms,  "a  holy 
man  who  was  frequently  favored  with  inlerviewa  with 
our  Saviour,  and  who  on  one  of  these  occasions  mode 
n  nnconth  skolcb  of  the  Divi 


ilitB.  ' 


long  reserred  a 


□  tliQ  Cooient  of  the  Idq 
«  by  MutiUo,  in  the  gnllery  of  the  H 


of  Holland,  represents  San  Juan  de  k  Crui  in  his  C 
molite  halul,  kneeling  before  an  altar,  on  which  H 
crucifix  and  some  lilies;  four  vellum  foiioa,  leH| 
with  ths  titles  of  lus  works,  ore  oo  the  ground  a( 


St.  A)(niiE&  Coftsiiri,  though  he  li 
teenlh  century,  wo*  not  ranonined  till  the  middle  of  the 
Mventeonth,  some  years  later  cliun  St.  Thcn^aa. 

He  waa  horn  in  1302,  one  of  the  nohle  familj  of 
Corsini  at  Florence,  and,  until  hia  sixteenth 
wiW,  diiobediflnl,  and  addicted  to  vicious  compftny, 
thikt  hii  purents  were  wallQigh  in  deBpair.  One 
bis  mother,  in  a  pasaion  of  grief  nod  taara,  extlaii 
"Tboa  arc  the  wolf  whom  I  saw  in  my  dream  1" 
yoDth,  startled  by  this  aposiroplie,  looked  at  her 
■he  contlnned,  fixing  ber  eyua  npon  him,  "  I 
thoQ  wert  born  I  dreaniBd  I  had  given  birth  lo  a 
bat  I  saw  that  violf  enter  in  at  the  open  door  of  ilEi 
diDTch,  nnd  behold  he  was  changed  into  a  lamb  I " 
He  heard  hur  in  fiileace.  The  next  dsy,  pasaing  hy 
iha  church  of  the  Carmelitiw,  an  IrrQaisliblB  impulso 
iudaced  him  to  enter  ;  and,  kneeling  down  before  the 
•liar  of  Che  Vii^in.  he  panicd  ont  hia  eonl  in  penitence 
■ad  prayer.  So  complete  was  the  change  in  his  mind 
Knd  dispaaition,  that  ho  refused  to  return  to  the  house 
of  his  pareatB,  and  became  a  Carmelite  friar  at  the  a^ 
of  aevenlaaB.  From  this  ^me  to  the  age  of  aevcnty  he 
U*ed  an  example  of  humility  and  piety,  and  died  Bishop 
of  Fiesole  in  1373,  lie  waa  ao  much  venerated  by  the 
^Florentines,  that  they  attribute  to  his  especial  intei^ 
oeBsion  and  protection  their  victory  over  Niocolb  Picin- 
iaa,  in  the  battle  of  Anghiari  in  U4I).  He  waa  canon- 
iHd  by  Urban  VUl.  in  16S9. 

Soon  after  his  canoniKation,  Gnido  painted  for  the 
Corsini  family  the  beantifnl  picture  which  is  now  at 
Boloi^a.  It  repreeenta  St.  Andrea  as  Bishop  of  Fie- 
aole,  standing  and  looking  up  to  heaven  willi  the  finest 
expression  it  is  possible  to  conceive  :  in  one  hand  he 
bolda  the  pastoral  staff;  in  the  left,  which  is  gloved, 
ba  holds  the  Scriptures,  Another  picture,  painted  for 
the  Corsini  family  at  Homo,  represents  St.  Andrea 
kneeling,  and  surrounded  by  a  clioir  of  angek. 

His  sumplnoas  chapel  in  the  Carmini  at  Florooce  ii 
adorned  with  bas-rsliefa  from  his  lifij,  in  white  marble. 


4«4  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MONASTIC  OBSEBB. 

The  ime  on  ihc  Vfl  rcprrspnCB  his  Anie  celebntioa  of 
mM ;  in  lii*  ktwI  linmilitf  he  KToiileil  tha  fescira  and 
triumphant  pn|i«ruiua>  mode  bj  hii  tuaWj  to  aolem- 
nlM  llw  ocMuion,  ftnd  withdrew  to  *  liiile  chapel  at 
KHiiv  dinanco  frum  the  dij,  where,  inetcad  of  the  usnal 
conflK«  ot  pnlMis,  printu,  wid  Eingm,  Iba  Virgin  lirr- 
•elf  and  a  fhnir  of  an^eli  uaifltrd  in  the  cetRhration. 
On  the  othi^r  liils  ii  the  Ti<wry  or  the  Plorantino  M 
Anchiari  l  tha  uunt  appeara  hovering  above,  with  hia 
piuionU  BtafT  in  one  hand,  and  a  sword  in  the  other. 
In  the  hai-relief  over  llio  altar,  he  i*  Panied  np  to 
heaven  by  Bn);clB.  Gaereino  painted  him  for  the  Cur- 
mini  at  Bresciu ;  uid  in  ironcral  lie  nay  be  found  in 
llio  Carmelile  ohnivhes.  alwnja  attired  as  bishop ;  bat 
the  piclnres  are  of  a  late  dale,  and  not  |;i>od.  The 
palm  distiaguialies  St.  Albert  from  St.  Andrea  Corsini. 

Saxta  Magia  Maddai^ha  db'  Fazzi  was  another 
Florentine  Baint  oftliia  Order,  one  of  the  noble  family 
of  the  Pazii,  of  whom  notliing  is  reforded  Imt  her  ex- 
treme saDCtitj  and  humility,  and  the  temptations  and 
tribnlations  of  her  solitade.  She  was  beatified  by  Ur- 
ban VIII.  in  1626,  and  eanonized  by  Alexander  Vin. 
in  IGTO.     There  ib  a  eharch  at  Florence  bearing  her 

The  pictares  in  her  honor  are.  of  conree,  of  the  latest 
Italian  school.  Tfan  best  of  these,  by  Lnca  Giordano, 
rcprescnta  the  mystic  Sposnlizia,  always  the  chief  inci- 
dent in  tliB  life  of  a  sitinled  nun.  Here  an  an^l  gives 
her  Bway,  and  prcsenta  her  hand  to  the  Savionr ;  an- 
other angel  holds  the  lily,  emblem  of  the  purity  of  these 
eapooials. 


I  cannot  quit  the  subject  of  the  Cannelitee,  in  their 
connection  with  Art,  without  mentioning  one  of  Ihwr 
Order,  conspicuous  na  a  faTorile  theme  for  painters  and 
poeta;  —  the  Sibdr  Lodibb  de  la  Mis^bicobde, 
who,  when  she  lived  in  the  world  and  for  the  world. 


I 


StEUa  LOUISE  DE  LA  MISERICOSDE.  465^ 

was  tliQ  Durheaso  da  la  Vatllfere,  She  was  never  can- 
DnizBd,  thcretbre  the  picnires  of  her  ia  her  Carmelilc 
dresa  do  not  proporlj  belong  to  sanred  art;  bat  if  Bor- 
rovr  and  Eufiering  and  a  true  repentance,  —  if  the  iust- 
iQg  rnflnGDte  of  her  examplo,  aail  uudjing  inlereflt  and 
celebrity  of  her  atory,  —  could  be  ret^irdod  aa  a  speciea 
of  caaonizKtion,  ahs  might  well  claitn  a  place  amoog 
the  martyrs  as  welt  as  amoni^  the  aainta.  She  entered 
the  CfH-pjelite  Order  in  the  year  1674,  al  tho  age  of 
tUrty.  Tbe  picture  of  "Mary  Magdalene  renonncing 
the  wotid,"  which  Le  Brun  painted  by  her  command 
aa  an  alUT'pietie  for  the  coaTcni  ia  which  ibo  made  her 
profession,  haa  been  considered  as  a  portrait  of  Iter; 
bnt  I  beliere  there  is  no  fonndation.  for  the  traditional 
intereat  given  (0  this  picture,  and  to  the  etill  more 
bmona  print  of  Edelinck,  the  masterpiece  of  the  en- 
graver. The  line  penitent  Magdalene  in  tho  Mnnich 
Gallery,  a  head  in  profile,  ia  more  likely  to  be  tAe  por- 
trait of  La  Vallifero  ao  often  alluded  to  by  writers  on 
her  life  and  that  of  Le  Bmn.  Pictotca  and  prints  of 
the  "  Soiur  LonisH  do  la  Mis^ricordo,"  in  her  CarmeJita__ 
habit,  were  once  very  popular ;  there  ia  a 
one  in  the  Brilisb  Maaeotn. 

JO 


THE    JESUITS. 


l^riStA I OSFTNISG  rayatV  wichin  the  limits  o(  mv 
wMHuS   suhjecl.  I  have  bat  little  to  taj  of  tbe  Jes- 

Ihii  point  of  view,  a  miBfiwinne  to  them  that  their  riae 
■a  a  religious  eoimiiuniij,  and  tlio  period  of  iheir  graat- 
Ml  influence,  should  liave  been  cixval  with  the  decline 
and  HliBolnte  depravation  of  the  flae  arts.  It  was  also 
a  migfortane  to  an  and  ariigts,  thitt  there  was  nothing 
in  the  spirit  of  the  Order  which  i-onduued  to  theur  ra- 
generatian.  There  was  no  want  of  means,  no  v 
matiifii-enFe.  Wealth  incalmlHblc  was  lavished 
embellisbnioat  o(  their  sninptnous  churches.  Deci 
tioDS  of  gold  and  silver,  of  alabaster  and  lapia-l 
of  rare  and  procions  marbles,  —  light,  brilliance,  col 
— all  was  combined  that  could  render  the  templra, ' " 
nndor  the  Jesuit  auspii'cs,  imposing  and  dazzling 
TQigar  eje.  The  immedialo  end  was  gained;  ilio 
tranaienC  effect  was  produced :  but,  In  absolateljr  ignor- 
ing the  higher  powers  and  neglecting  tbe  more  lasting 
ef^ta  ia  art,  tliev  have  lost  —  at  least  Ihej  have  failed 
to  gain  —  some  incalculable  advaatages  which  migbl 
have  been  tbeini,  in  addition  to  others  of  which  thej 
well  knew  bow  to  avail  themselves." 
•  In  the  am  filition  of  Ihlt  volamo,  the  JhuIu  irere  ttprt- 


4*7 


If  a,  J  ™^'"""™- 


■"^  "-s^^  ^"^  '^'t«ri,«^;  .'"'  '"""lien. 


pal- 
ant  I 


Mwr. 


-~-»fcr.s;3' 


"""""rC" 


■"*"~yir 


■I  all.     Smnic  trictn  a 

k«pt  fiif  lliB  Th«l«.     It  «ppeBrtui  K  _    

1  profaoo  to  iDtrodnce  ahains  iaio  tlie  Templet  of 
II 

Ccnwnly  it  raiinot  be  said  o(  tbe  prindpaL  euDts  of 
tbe  JiMuiU  Ihitt  lliey  descrred  lliis  tkntsalJE  [reatmeat. 
Their  Ignfttjiu  Loyola,  their  Francis  Skvier,  their  Fraa- 
ru  Borgia,  nre  •tiionj;  the  mont  iatereaiint;,  m  well  u 
St  extnonliaKry,  mea  the  world  has  seen.    Nolh< 


:eiv(Kl  m 


»e11a> 


I 


:,  than  ihcii  lives  and  characters:  nothing  liaer  aa 
snlljecls  of  art ;  —  bu[  art  haa  done  Htlle  or  nothiag  for 
Ilium,  theiufbre  I  un  hero  eoostrained  to  say  bat  litlte 
of  them, 

In  pieturei  the  Jeinits  are  not  easily  dislingaishcd. 
They  mew  tlio  biack  frocfe  hattoned  up  to  the  throat ; 
but  tbe  painters  of  the  serentoenth  century,  aTotding 
the  mus  of  black,  aod  meagre  formal  lines,  have  gener- 
a)l;  given  to  the  Jeaait  saints,  those  at  least  who  were 
ordmned  prieata,  the  dresi  of  pricata  or  canona,  —  the 
albe  or  the  chasuble,  and,  whero  the  head  la  roeered, 
the  sqaaro  block  cap.  In  Spain  and  Italy  they  now 
wear  a  Urge  btacb  hat  turned  up  at  each  side,  —  such 
as  Don  Baaillo  wears  in  the  opera;  but  EUcli  Itata  I 
liftvB  never  seeu  in  sacred  pictures.  By  an  express 
cUuse  in  their  reflations,  the  Jesnits  were  permitted 
to  assume  the  dress  in  use  in  the  coantry  they  inhabi 
ed,  whenever  they  deemed  it  expedient. 


St.  loNiTiTia  LoTOLA,  the  fonnder  of  the  Jeti 
waa  bom  in  his  father's  castle  of  Loyola,  in  the 
1491,  of  a  race  so  noble  that  its  bead  was  always  saro- 
nioned  to  do  homage  to  the  throne  by  a  special  writ. 
He  began  life  as  page  in  the  ronrt  of  Ferdinand  the 
Catholic,  and  aftorwarda  entered  [he  army,  in  which  he 
WRa  distinguished  for  his  romaatic  bravery  and  his  love 
of  pleasure.     Hia  career  onder  ordinary 


year  ] 


I 


ST.  IGNATIVS  lOrOLA. 

would  probHbty  have  been  that  of  the  caraJiers  of  hi 
time,  vho  sought  diatinction  in  coart  and  ramp ;  bat  it 
ims  gaddcalj  Birestad,  At  the  aiege  of  PsoipeluiiB,  irt 
1531,  he  was  wounded  in  both  le^  by  a  cannon-ball. 
Dreadine-  the  diBfigorement  of  hia  handsomH  person,  he 
euued  his  wonnda  to  lie  twice  reopened  and  a  protrud- 
ing bono  Bawud  olF,  at  the  hszurd  of  hia  life;  but  iJie 
Intense  agony,  chough  borne  with  unshrinking  courage, 
'   mta  borne  in  vain,  —  he  was  majmod  for  life. 

In  the  long  conflnemenC  consequent  on  his  snCR^ringB 
he  called  for  hia  favorite  hooka  of  romance  and  poetry, 
bnt  none  weru  at  the  momeut  to  be  found  ;  thev  brought 
h!a  the  Life  of  Chriat  aud  the  Lives  of  the  Swnts.  A 
dlange  came  over  hie  mind:  he  rose  from  hia  aivk  couch 
anotberman.  The -'lady"  to  whom  he  henceforth  de- 
Toied  himself  was  to  be  "  neither  countess  nor  dadiesa, 
bat  one  of  far  nobler  state,"  —  the  Holy  Virgin,  Mother 
of  the  Saviour;  and  the  wars  in  which  he  was  to  light 
were  to  be  watrcd  agaioat  the  apiritual  foes  of  God, 
whose  soldier  he  waa  henceforth  to  he. 

As  Boou  as  he  was  anfflciontly  rerovsreiJ  he  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  Our  Lady  of  Montserrat,  and  huug  up 
hia  sword  anil  lance  before  her  allar.  He  Ihea  repaired 
to  Uanresa.  Here  he  gave  hirneelf  up  for  a  time  to  the 
moat  terrible  penaaa«  fiir  hia  past  aina,  and  was  thrown 
into  such  a  state  of  horror  and  doubt  that  more  than 
once  he  was  tempted  to  pat  an  end  to  hia  miserable 
axlilteace.  He  escaped  from  these  snares.  He  beheld 
viaioDB,  in  which  he  was  oaaurod  of  his  aalvation ;  in 
which  the  mysleries  of  faith  >vere  revealed  to  him :  he 
taur  that  which  he  had  formerly  only  believed.  For 
bim  what  need  was  there  to  stuily,  or  to  consult  the 
Scriptures,  for  UHtimouy  to  those  divine  truths  which 
were  made  known  to  him  by  immediate  intercourse  with 
another  world?  He  set  off  for  Jerusalem  with  the  inlen- 
tlon  of  fixing  his  residence  in  the  holy  city;  but  thia 
was  not  permitted,  and  he  recnmed  to  Spain.  Ben 
be  was  opposed  in  his  spiritual  views  by  those  who 
condemned  him  for  hia  former  lilt  and  his  total  want 


470  LSGt'.\D3  OF  TBK  UOSASTIC  OBDBM 

or  tbeologirsl  Inming.     Hk  could  nal  obtain  ihe  pi 

\tgB  of  wachiog  till  he  had  gone  ihtoug'  

■tad;  of  four  yrta'  dnriuioD.  He  submitted  ;  h«  bad 
10  bisgiD  with  tin  ruilimenls,  to  sit  on  ibe  same  form 
wi(l>  l>o;>  Btadfiug  grammBT, — to  andcr^  whateier  we 
c«n  ronteire  of  moat  irksome  to  a  man  of  his  ags  and 
diBpasiiioa.  ARar  conquering  (be  first  difflrultits  be 
repsirad  to  Parts.  Here  he  met  with  Hve  companions, 
wlio  "wre  perauadtd  lo  enler  into  bis  riewa  :  Faber,  a 
Suvojard  at  mean  extraction,  but  fall  of  talent  and 
eutliusiafm;  Frmcis  Xavier,  a  Spaniard  of  a  noble 
fkmil)',  haudaoine  in  pcnon,  and  aingnlarly  accom- 
plislied  1  tbe  other  three  were  also  Spaniards,  tbon  slodj- 
ing  philosopbj  at  Faris,  —  Satmeran,  Laj'nez,  and  Boba- 
dilla.  Tbesc,  with  four  others,  under  tbe  direction  and 
infliivnce  of  Ignatiiu,  formed  ibemselves  into  a  uommii- 
nity.  They  bound  themselves  by  the  osuai  vows  of 
poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience ;  and  they  were  lo  take 
besides  a  tow  of  espcciaJ  obedience  lo  the  heed  of  the 
Church  for  the  time  being,  devoting  themselves  wilhoat 
condition  or  remuneration  to  do  his  pleasure,  and  go  lo 
any  part  of  the  world  to  which  he  should  see  lit  lo  send 
them. 

Ignatins  repaired  to  Borne,  and  spent  three  yean 
there  before  he  could  obtain  the  coiidrmaiiou  of  his 
Institnle.  It  was  at  length  granted  by  Paul  III.  Tbe 
essential  duties  of  the  new  Order  were  lo  be  three  :  — 
preaching  in  the  first  ptaL'e ;  secondly,  tbe  guidance  of 
sonls  through  conressioD ;  and,  thirdly,  (he  education  of 
the  young.  As  Ignatius  carried  into  his  community 
the  ideas  and  bnliils  of  a  soldier,  go  tbe  first  virtue  ineiil- 
cated  was  tbe  soldier's  virtue,  —  absolute,  unhesitating 
obedience  ;  and  he  called  his  society  Ibe  "  Company  of 
Jesus,"  just  as  a  company  of  soldiers  is  called  by  the 
'  'is  captain. 


He  died  first  Qcncral  of  hia  Order  in  ISSe,  s 


jnized  by  Grejjory  XV.  ii 


1G22. 


1  wal 


e  hare  seen  a  head  of  Si.  Ignatius  Iil 


BT.  IGNATIUS  LOYOLA.  471 

ola  in  a  print  or  a  picture,  we  can  neTer  aAerwards  mil- 
take  iC  Tlie  tjpe  Aoea  not  varj,  nod  has  never  been 
idealized.  It  doea  not  appear  tbat  any  portrait  of  him 
was  painted  daring  hia  life,  altbougb  tbey  show  euch  a 
pictare  in  the  Caaa  Professa  at  Rome.  Impresaions  in 
wax  were  taken  from  his  teatnres  after  death ;  and  from 
these,  asaisied  bj  tbe  directions  of  Fatber  Ribadeneira, 
Sanchez  Coello  punted  a  head  which  afterwards  served 
■a  a  model.  In  its  general  character,  tiiis  head  U  fomil- 
iar  to  OS  in  art:  a  square,  high,  powerTnl  brow;  a  melan- 
choly and  determined,  rather  than  stern,  countenanco ; 
abort  black  hair,  bald  on  tbe  temples,  very  little  beard, 
and  a  slight  black  mnalache.  "  So  mojeatic."  eays 
his  biographer,  "  was  the  aspect  of  Loyola,  that,  during 
the  sixteenth  centary,  few,  if  any,  of  the  books  of  his 
Order  appeared  witlioat  the  impress  of  tbat  imperial 


The  figure  painted  by  Hubena  for  the  Jcanits  at  Ant- 
werp is  now  at  Warwick  Castle.  The  head  is  wonder- 
fnliy  Sue,  and  qnite  tme  Vt  the  Spanish  type :  be  wean 
the  chasuble  as  priest,  and  his  hand  is  on  an  open  book, 
on  which  are  inscribed  the  firat  words  of  bis  Bole, — 
Ad  Majorem  Dei  glariam.  The  square  black  cap  hangi 
behind  him.  The  chaanble  is  splendid, — of  a  deep 
scarlet  embroidered  with  gold. 

In  general,  IgnaCiua  a  distingiushed  by  the  |  R  B> 
the  monogram  of  the  Order.  — sometimes  in  a  gloiy  in 
the  sky  above,  sometimes  on  a  tablet  borne  by  angel*. 
The  heart  crowned  with  thorna,  the  Sacri  Ciatr,  ia  alao 
■n  attribute  ;  it  is  the  crest  or  device  of  the  Order. 

The  subjects  taken  from  his  life  have  not  been,  ai 
fiv  as  I  know  or  can  learn,  the  most  striking  and  pict- 
nresque  incidents  of  that  wonderful  life :  —  not  Ignatini 
studying  on  his  sick-bed;  —  nor  Ignatius  performing 
hia  midnight  watch  in  tbe  cbapel  of  Our  I>ady,  hanging 
np  his  lance  beFbre  her  altar,  and  dedicating  himaelf  to 
her  aerrice ;  —  nor  the  solemn  vows  in  the  chapel  at 
Honlmartre ;  —  nor  <he  prayer  at  Jerusalem ;  —  nor 
•ven  bis  death  scene.     Tliese  mag  exist,  but  nrilher  In 


49ft  LXOElWfi  9f  TBS  MQKASTtC  OkOERB. 


I 


Aller  Lii  pcnancM  in  iIm  chtotd  u  Uuiresa,  he 
brgMi  bu  vocation  of  Mint  in  the  neniJ  tnannsr,  by 
bikliog  ilia  licli,  Bod  CB^tinK  oni  domuiiB.  The  por- 
lkiil«r  tints  Bud  lonUilj'  pluaan  bj  BulienB  for 
■plendid  )>ietuni  ur  "  tlic  Miniclisi  of  St-  lgm\ 
(Vienna  Oal.)  1  cannot  fix  :  but  it  must  bi 
Later  poiiod.  for  Igtutiaa  is  h«ra  dressed  tit  bd  ordali 
priest,  and  slaods  on  the  swps  of  an  altar, 
nut  have  occarreil  before  1540.  One  hand  rests  od  v» 
altar  ;  the  other  is  raised  as  in  commaDd.  Near  dim 
stand  bis  nina  companiuos,  Pierre  Fsber,  Francisco 
Xstier.  lago  Laynci,  Alfonso  Salmeron,  Nicolas  Bolia- 
dillB,  Simon  Rodrifcuoi,  Claude  Ic  Jay,  Jean  Codi 
and  Fofquier  Brouet.  Thetic  formed  the  first  Sont 
all  becanD  lilaiorically  memoralile,  and  the  hettdi 
are  so  Hnc,  so  divravifiud,  and  have  to  mnuh  the  air 
fiortnlits,  that  I  think  it  probable  Rubens  had  authoi 
for  each  of  ihem  —  (I  speak,  of  eoune,  of  the 
sndnotofthcprint,  which,  though  tine,  is  in  ihii 
(lefeotiTe).  The  prindpal  group  at  the  foot  of  the 
consLstB  of  a  demoniac  vvoman,  with  her  relalii 
a'Dong  whom  tbo  son  and  Iho  daughlar  of  the  aSicled 
creature  are  admimlile :  another  demoniac,  who  has 
broken  his  bonds,  lies  regiog  and  airuggling  on  the 
ground.  On  the  right,  a  youn|;  mother  presents  her 
tick  child ;  —  another  points  out  the  saint  to  her  two 
children  ;  —  over  the  head  of  tlie  saint  are  an^k  who 
seem  to  chase  awny  the  hideoas  demons,  disappearing 
in  tbe  dialance.  Ail  the  (igurcs  are  Ufo-siia,  and  the 
ezccudoD,   in   tbe   maimer  of  Kaben«,  is  as  fine 

"  Tbe  Vision  of  St.  Ignatius  "  represents  tbo 
lona  comfort  ufliirdud  to  him  when  on  his  way  te 
Having  gone  aside  ioto  a  little  chapel  to  pray,  laai 
Laynen  and  bis  cotnpaDions  on  tbe  outside,  he  beheld 
the  form  of  dot  Saviour,  bearing  his  cross,  who,  stud- 


oe  «^^H 


I 


ST.   FRANCIS   XAV/ER.  47J 

ing  before  him,  pronouucod  iho  words  "  Ego  eotiia  Boma 
propiliui  en/."  There  is  anotlicr  Virion  of  St.  IgnntiuB, 
whicb  I  hnvo  seon  repcesenwd,  ia  which  our  Savionr 
commandfl  bim  to  give  to  his  neir  commanitj'  the 
diviDa  Tiune.  An  angel  generally  holds  a  (ablet,  on 
wbich  oro  die  worda  ■'  la  hoc  iiociiliilw  tibi  nontai." 
Bolh  these  subjects  I  have  seen  in  the  Jesnit  churches. 

"Lojala  hBontBd  b;  dcmona  in  hia  sleep,"  ii  a  fine 
aketch  bj  Ruliens. 

The  alatue  of  St.  Ignatius,  cast  in  silver  from  the 
model  bj  Pierro  le  Gros  (tn  his  usnal  bad  lajue),  the 
glory  round  the  head  being  oFpntcious  alonCB,  was  fbt- 
merlj  ia  the  churuh  of  the  Gesil  at  Rome,  but  disap- 
peared BOOn  nftcr  the  suppression  of  tlic  Order  in  1773. 
An  imitation  of  it  now  stauds  in  the  same  plate. 

Prints  of  St.  Ignatius  are  nitbout  nutuijer.  I  believe 
that  tbe  foregoing  legend  will  suMcientlj  explain  them. 


St.  FsiKCiB  Xatihh,  the  Patron  Saint  and  ApoallB 
of  the  Indies,  was  born  in  150S.  He,  also,  via  of  a 
moat  illnatrions  fe.mily,  aad  first  saw  the  light  in  his 
bth^'a  castle  among  the  Pyrenees.  He  was  sent  to 
study  philosophy  and  theology  at  Paris.  Here,  in  the 
college  of  St.  Barbara,  he  became  the  friend  and  asso- 
oala  of  Loyola.  It  appears  from  his  story  that  ha  did 
not  at  ODCG  yield  up  his  heart  and  soul  to  the  gnidanoa 
and  grasp  of  the  stronger  spirit.  Learacd  himsolf,  a 
lescber  in  the  chair  of  philodOfiby,  gay,  ardent,  and  in 
the  prime  of  lif^,  he  sCrng^leil  fur  a  while,  hot  his  snb- 
jiigalioQ  was  afterwards  only  tlie  more  complete.  He 
took  the  vow  of  obcdieaoB ;  and  when  John  III.,  king 
of  Portugal,  sent  a  mission  to  plant  the  Christian  relig- 
ion in  the  east,  where  the  Portuguese  were  at  one  time 
what  the  Spaniards  had  become  in  the  west,  lords  of  a 
tenitorj  of  whiuh  the  boundaries  wore  nokuovrn,  Fran. 
eb  Xnvier  was  selected  by  his  spiritual  guide,  Ignatios, 
M  leader  of  the  small  band  of  0: 


I 


474  LKUE.VDii  Of  THE  MONAHTJC  ORDKRB. 

far  Got :  and.  adda  his  biographer,  a  lisppier  lelection 
cnoli]  not  bavc  lieen.  "  Never  wa<  a  enmniODS  to  tail, 
to  fuflering,  and  to  death  so  joyously  received.  In  ihe 
viiiotu  of  ibe  Di)(ht,  be  had  otieD  gToaned  beneath  Ihe 
inrumbeat  weight  of  a  wild  lodiaD,  of  ebon  hoe  and 
(^guitic  BlAture,  seated  on  his  shoalders.  la  those 
dreams  he  had  ofieo  traversed  letnpestuoos  lees,  endur- 
ing shipwreck,  famioc,  and  perecculioo  ia  their  most 
ghaatly  forms;  and,  as  each  peril  ivaa  enconntered,  hii 
panting  soul  invoked  yet  mora  abundant  oppannnity 
of  mailing  tuch  glorious  sacriflces  for  ihe  conversion  of 
mankind.  And  now,  when  ihe  clearer  sense  and  the 
approaching  accomplishment  of  those  dark  intimatioos 
were  disclosed  to  him.  passionate  sobs  atteeled  the 
rapture  which  his  tongue  was  unable  to  speak.  Ue 
lell  on  his  bnee«  before  Ignatius,  kissed  the  feet  of  the 
holy  bther,  repaired  his  tattered  cassock,  and,  with  no 
other  provision  than  his  breviary,  leJl  Borne  on  the 
15th  of  March,  IMO,  for  Lisbon,  his  doslincii  port  of 
embarkation  for  the  East."  ' 

The  rest  of  his  life  was  wholly  spent  in  India,  prin- 
cipally in  Japan  and  on  the  coasts  of  Travnncore  and 
l^labar.  By  snch  a  spirit  as  his  we  can  conceive 
that  toils  and  fatigues,  chains  and  dungeons,  would  Iw 
encountered  with  nnf^hug  courage ;  and  death,  which 
would  have  been  to  him  a  glorious  martyrdom,  met 
not  only  with  courage,  bat  exaltation.  But  ruffian 
vices,  Biijacl  GItb,  the  soriely  of  the  most  depraved  and 
most  sordid  of  mankind,  —  for  such  were  the  soldiery 
and  the  traders  of  Portngal,  who  were  the  companions 
of  his  voyages  from  coast  to  coast,  —  these  most  in 
troth  have  been  hard  10  licar,  these  must  have  tried  him 
sorely.  Tet  in  the  midst  of  these  he  writes  of  bis 
\appiBaa,  as  if  it  were  too  ffreat;  as  if  it  were  beyond 
what  ought  to  be  the  lot  of  mortals  I    Ue  never  quailed 


tl  BlugTjiphy,    Mr  bi 


or  la  Bl.  JrsDnlj  BorEia, 


ST.   FRANCIS  XAVJEB.  475 

ander  obsCaclea ;  never  hesitated  when  called  upon : 
liis  checifulnefs  cqnalled  his  devotion  and  hie  charity. 
"  Whatever  may  have  been  the  fate  of  Xavier'e  mis- 
uODg  or  tlie  cause  of  iheir  decay,  it  ia  DOthiag  more 
than  wanton  scepciciam  to  doubt  that,  in  hta  own  tife- 
time,  Iba  apparent  results  were  anch  as  to  justify  the 
most  sanguine  of  his  aatidpations.  Near  Cape  Comoria 
be  appointed  thirty  different  teachers,  who,  nader  him- 
self, were  to  preside  over  the  same  nnmber  of  Cbriatian 
chnrchM ;  mauj  an  hnmble  cottage  then  was  eor- 
monnted  by  a  craciSx,  the  mark  of  its  coDsacradon  to 
public  worship ;  and  many  a  mdo  coautenauce  leflected 
the  sorrows  and  the  hopes  which  they  had  been  tAUght 
to  asaociate  with  that  sacred  emblem." 

It  waa  the  boiqnneaa  of  Xavier  that  he  died  in  the 
foil  belief  of  the  good  he  had  done,  and  of  the  unspeak- 
able, the  everlasting  benefits  which,  in  conferring  merely 
the  rite  of  baptism,  he  had  obtained  for  handreds  of 
thousands  of  hnman  souls,  thereby  saved  fin)m  perdi- 
tion. 

He  died  in  an  attempt  to  reach  China.  Ita  jealone 
coasts  were  so  guarded,  that  it  was  only  by  bribing  a 
mercenary  Chinese  trader  that  he  obtained  the  boon  of 
being  carried  thiihec  and  left  in  the  night-time  on  the 
shore,  or  concealed  till  he  could  travel  to  the  city  of 
Canton.  He  had  reached  the  little  island  of  Sancian, 
where  the  Portuguese  had  a  factory ;  there  he  ma 
abandoned  by  his  gnide  and  bis  interpreter,  and,  being 
seized  with  fever,  he  first  took  refiige  on  board  a 
crowded  hospital-ship,  among  the  sick  sailors  and  sol- 
diers :  growing  rapidly  worse,  he  entreated  to  be  token 
on  shore ;  they  took  him  out  of  the  vessel  and  laid  him 
on  the  sands,  where  he  remained  fbr  many  hoon,  ex- 
posed 10  the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold,  —  the  burning 
sun,  the  icy  night-blast,  —  and  none  were  there  to  help, 
or  (o  soothe  his  last  moments.  A  Portngoese,  at 
length  moved  with  a  tardy  compassion,  laid  bim  nndet 
a  rade  shelter ;  and  hare  he  breoibed  hi*  l«*t  bitiith. 


478  LEGENDS  OF  THE  MOXASTIC  ORDERS. 


We  h«»fl  ihe  ■•  Miraclcl  of  Si.  Francis  Xavior"  by 
Foawln.  cmaxi  in  his  uaaiJ  fIubIcuiI  ■t}'le,  nhich,  in 
ihU  insrance.  epoib  and  weakenE  the  inith  of  the  repre- 
lenucioa.  The  Japaneu  look  like  Aiheniuit,  osd  the 
Bonzea  mighl  Hgure  ni  bigh-priesu  or  Cjbelc- 

It  ia  reUted  thnt  when  Xaviu'  was  on  hia  voyags  to 
India  he  preorJied  and  catechized  every  day,  co  thM  (he 
*esiel  in  which  he  sailed  wu  metamorphoGed  from  a 
floBlJDg  infirno  into  a  community  or  orderly  and  relig- 
ioaa  men.  Like  the  Vit'si  of  Wakefield  in  his  prison, 
he  conierted  his  own  miseries  and  privations  into  a 
means  of  aolaeing  the  wretched,  and  Bwakening  the 
most  depraved  and  evil-tninded  to  heller  hopes  and 
fuelings.  But  the  le^^'etid  spoils  this  heaatiful  and 
fattbrul  picture  of  a  true  devotednesB.  It  lells  ua  that 
one  day,  as  Xavier  was  preaching  to  (he  sailors  and 
paaiengers,  hie  cmciGx  fell  iato  the  aea,  and  was  mirae- 
nloualy  restored  at  his  enmesi  prayer,  for  a  craw-fiah 
or  lobster  appeared  on  the  aiirfaee  of  the  waters,  bearing 
Ae  crucifix  in  its  claws.  I  have  seen  this  le^rend  painted 
in  the  Jesuit  churches,  and  woU  reniBmber  the  pulpit 
of  a  little  chapel  in  the  Tyrol,  dedicated  to  St,  Francis 
Xavior,  on  the  top  of  which  was  a  carving  of  a  lobster 
holding  ihc  cross  or  crucifix  in  its  cluws.  It  is  also 
related  that  St.  Frauds  nmltiplicd  the  fishes  in  the  dbi 
of  a  poor  Hshcnnan.  This  also  I  have  seen  represented, 
and  at  fiist  I  supposed  it  to  allude  to  t/it  rairaculoos 
draught  of  fishes,  huC  it  was  explained  hy  tliis  legend. 

There  ia  a  pictore  in  the  Fit^william  Musenm  at 
Cambridgie,  which  reprcsema  a  vieion  of  St.  Francis 
Xavier.     It  ia  liy  one  of  the  Caracci. 

St.  Frands  Xnvier  preaching  to  ilie  Pagans  in  the 
East  is  a  very  comman  anbject.  So  ia  tlie  death  of 
the  aaint,  at  which  1  rememticr  tvi'o  intod  pictures  :  one 
by  Cario  Maratta,  iti  the  Gcsii;  and  another,  remark- 
able Ibr  the  pBthoa  and  tlie  beauty  of  the  treatment,  hy 
Gianbaitista  Ganli,  ia  the  church  of  llie  Jesuit  Novices 
at  Rome. 


ST.  FRANCIS  BORGIA. 


*79 


I 


A  pictnre  by  Saghera,  which  I  only  fenow  from  the 
eagrnving  of  Bolawert,  rcpreaeua  Sc  Francis  Savicr, 
in  hia  sleepless  nighu,  comfoned  by  b.  viaion  of  ihe  B. 
Tirgin,  Burrounded  hj  a,  glorf  of  Bogels. 

I  hare  fiaen  a  picture  entitled  "  St.  Francis  Xavier 
bapdziog  a  Queeu  of  India,"  which  probahl;  refen  to 
the  baptism  of  the  qaeen  of  Saxama  in  Japan :  aha 
wai  conrertcd  liy  the  beautj  of  a  picture  which  Xarier 
had  shown  hoc  of  the  Madonna  and  the  Infant  Christ ; 
"  bat,"  adds  che  faiiljful  histarian,  "  her  converaion 
wsa  merely  aaperficial."  The  Japanese  quean  con- 
templating  with  reverence  and  admiiation  the  image 
of  the  Virgin-iaathet  would  be  a  moat   pictnreaqoa 

Oa  the  whole,  I  hare  never  seen  a  picture  of  St. 
Francis  Xavier  which  I  could  consider  worthy  either 
of  him,  or  of  the  ricb  capabilities  of  chsfacter  and 
scenery  with  which  he  is  associated.* 


The  Ibird  great  aaint  of  the  Jesuit  cor 
'EoiSCii  BoaaiiL..  His  family  was  at  once  most  illus- 
trious and  moat  iofamoua.  On  one  aide  he  was  aearlj 
allied  to  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  ;  on  the  other,  he 
was  of  the  same  ruFe  as  Alexander  VI.  and  Ciesar 
Borgia.  Heredilary  Duke  of  Gaudia,  a  grandee  of 
Spain,  dlalioguished.  in  his  youth  and  manhood  as 
connieri  soldier,  statesman  ;  a  happy  husband,  a  happy 
&ther,  —  nothing  thai  ihia  world  could  ol!er  of  great- 
ness or  prosperity  seemed  wanting  to  crown  his  felicity, 
if  thia  world  conld  have  aulflceil  for  him.  But  what 
ma  the  world  of  this  enthnaiaslic,  conlaroplative,  ten- 
der, poetical  nature  1  It  was  the  Spiinish  court  in  the 
wxteenth  centnry ;  it  was  a  auhservien^y  to  forma  fh>m 
whidi  there  could  have  been  hue  two  means  of  edcai>c. 


m 


UM  bf  VrjicB.  18SS. 


4li  LEGEXDS  OF  TBE  UOXASTIC  0SDER8. 

tt  Lenna  (the  famoni  miniater  of  Philip  UL),  hit 
rwDUM  were  exhumed,  bdiI  boms  in  stale  lo  Mailrid. 
wbara  ihef  ooir  lie.  To  the  iui  be  had  Rtialj  refused 
to  lend  the  aanctkHl  of  bu  Dame  and  co-operation  to 
(be  Inqniaition  ;  to  the  laat  he  wa*  tinsied  with  the 
gmal  anhemo  of  education  doiiecd  by  Loyola,  bat  per- 
fecwd  by  himielf.  He  wm  beaiifiud  by  Pope  Drbao 
Vni.  in  IBM,  hat  not  canonized  till  1716, 

Such  is  the  mere  outline  of  the  hiitory  of  this  inter- 
MtiDg  and  admirablG  man;  —  s  lilb  so  rich  in  pict- 
nreiqae  incident,  that  we  should  wonder  at  the  ^ttlo 
use  which  baa  been  made  of  it  by  the  ar^ts  of  his  own 
country,  did  wo  not  know  to  whiu  a  depth  of  degrada- 
lioit  they  hod  fallen  at  the  time  he  took  rank  as  a  can- 
oniied  BBint ;  and  it  is  in  hii  saintly  chsncter  only,  — 
M  the  Jesuit  preacher,  not  as  the  cavalier,  —  that  he  ii 
genendly  represented.  With  regard  to  the  proper  char- 
acter of  bead,  we  must  remember  timt  no  aalhatliE  por- 
trait renuinl  of  St.  Francis  Borgia.  He  absolnlely 
reliiBed,  when  General  of  the  Order,  to  allow  any  pict- 
ure to  be  pointed  of  him.  When  be  was  seized  with 
hia  last  illness,  he  again  refused  ;  and  when,  in  epiie 
of  this  refnaal,  in  his  dying  moments  a.  paiolar  waa 
introduced  imo  bis  room,  he  testified  hts  disgust  b; 
signs  and  gestures,  and  turned  bis  face  to  the  wall. 
Those  heads  I  hare  seen  of  him,  particularly  one  en- 
graTcd  for  the  Jesuit  Society  by  Wlcrx,  represent  a 
narrow,  meagre  face,  nenk  in  the  expression,  with  a 
long  aquiline  nose  :  altogether  each  a  foco  as  wa  do  not 
like  to  associate  with  the  character  of  Francis  Boi;gia. 
The  picture  by  VelaBquez,  in  the  Duke  of  Sutherland's 
galler;,  I  suppose  to  have  been  painted  about  the 
period  of  his  beaiificolion.  It  repreBents  biro  oo  his 
artival  at  Rome  at  the  moment  he  is  about  to  renouDce 
the  world ;  ho  appears  to  have  just  disniouniod  from 
his  horse,  and  with  only  two  gentlemen  in  his  train,  is 
received  at  the  door  of  the  Jesuit  College  bj  Iguanas 
Loyola,  and  three  others  of  tbe  Society,  one  of  whom 


ST.  STAMSLA3   KOTZSA. 

ii  probably  inuindeil  to  represeuc  Lajaei.  The  piccare 
u  deeplj  interasciag ;  but,  considering  the  fame  and 
acknowledged  powera  of  the  painwr,  and  the  singular 
capabilities  of  the  subjeet  in  eicprc^ion,  form,  and 
color,  I  conrcsa  il  disappointed  nte :  il  ought  to  be  one 
toaHnmand,  —  to  rivet,  the  attention  ;  whereas  itia  flat 
and  sombre  in  effect  and  not  very  GJguiticant  in  point 
of  cbanicter. 

Goya  paJQCad  a  sericB  of  pietarcs  from  the  life  of  St. 
Francis  Borgia,  which  are  now  In  the  cathedral  at 
VaJenda.  They  mtuf  ba  bad  and  nnwonby  of  tha 
■abject,  for  Goya  was  a  caricaturist  and  satirist  by 
profession,  and  nevof  painted  a  tolerable  sacrod  picttire 

St.  Francis  Xaiiar  baptdiinp  in  Japan,  with  St 
Francis  Borgia  kneeling  in  the  foregronnd,  is  the  Bob- 
ject  of  a  large  picture  by  Luca  Giordano,  painted  at 
Kftplea  for  the  Church  of  San  Francesco  Saverio,  —  it 
is  said  in  three  days,  —  thus  jusiifyitig  his  nicknatne  of 
Luca-Fa-Pmla.  There  are  many  other  pictorea  of  5C 
Francis  Borgia,  anhappily  not  worth  mentioning,  being 
E^nerally  commonplace  ;  with  the  exception,  howDrer, 
of  a  very  striking  Spanish  print,  which  I  remember  to 
bare  seen  I  know  not  where;  —  Borgia  in  hla  Jeanit 
habit,  with  a  fine  melancholy  face,  holds  in  his  band  k 
■kail  crowned  with  a  diadem,  in  altusion  to  the  Eift-  ■ 
preia  Isabella.  J 


8t,  Stanislib  Kotzea,  the  son  of  a  Polish  noblo'^ 
man  and  aenator,  was  among  the  fi^B^fi^^its  of  the 
Jesuit  teaching,  and  distinguished  for  his  yonthfol  piety. 
Ha  was  educated,  till  he  was  fourteen,  chiefly  by  bit 
mother,  stadied  afterwards  at  Vienna,  and  entered  the 
Jesuit  commnnity  through  the  influence  of  St.  Fnulcia 
Borgia.  He  did  not,  however,  live  lo  complete  hi^ 
Ooritiate,  dying  at  Rome  at  the  age  of  seventeen.  Tbe 
sanctity  and  parity  of  his  young  life  had  excited  deep 
iDterest  and  admiralloQ,  and  he  ...»._ 

■diet  XIU  ia  1727 


I 


4lfi  LeOENDS  OF  TBE  MONASTIC  OSDEBB. 

Br<  Fkaxcib  dk  Silks,  of  a  aoble  famil;  of 
%*taj,  WHt  bora  DRorAnnecr  in  1567,  Hia  mother, 
who  Imd  renreil  him  wiih  difficall?,  sad  loied  him 
with  inexprewible  lenderneea,  hod  carlj  dvdicalod 
blln  in  her  heart  to  God,  sod  it  is  recorded  that 
tho  first  words  lie  uttered  disdnctlj  were  "  Dial  <t 
ma  miat  m'aimait  bieni"  and  10  (be  iaEt  moment 
of  his  life,  lore,  ia  its  Scriptural  aeose  of  a  tender, 
all-embrscinB  chorit;,  wu  dio  elemeat  io.  wbicli  he 

Be  wtu  Bishop  of  G«iicva  IVom  ISO!  to  1632,  and 
moat  worthilj  dischsTged  all  the  duties  of  his  poaitioa. 
He  U  celebmted  for  hia  di^vouanal  writiogB,  which  are 
almost  as  much  admired  bj  Protestants  as  by  Catholics 
for  their  eloquenco  and  Christian  spirit ;  he  is  yet  mora 
inlerestin);  for  his  benign  and  tolerant  character  ;  his 
leal.  BO  tempered  by  gentlonoss,  The  learned  Cardinal 
du  Perron,  famous  as  a  Dontrover^ist^  once  Mid,  "  If 
70a  would  hare  the  heretics  convinced,  bring  them  to 
mei  if  jou  would  have  them  conrerted,  Kod  them  to 
the  Bishop  of  Geneva."  The  diBtinction  hero  drawn, 
and  the  feeling  expressed,  seem  to  me  alike  honorabU 
to  the  speaker. 

By  the  uiKO  giad  of  his  own  titne  and  faith,  St. 
Francis  de  Sales  wss  blamed  for  two  things  capBciallj. 
In  the  first  place,  he  hod,  io  his  famoas  book,  the  "  In- 
trodnction  to  a  Devout  Life,"  permitted  dancing  as  a 
recreation.  Even  his  eulogists  think  it  ueceseary  to 
explain  and  excuse  this  relaxation  from  strict  disci- 
pline ;  —  Bad  a  fanatic  friar  of  his  own  diocese  had  the 
insolence,  after  preaching  against  him,  10  bum  his  book 
m  the  face  of  the  coogregaiion :  the  mild  bishop  did 

The  second  euliject  of  reproach  agunst  bim  was,  his 
too  great  gentleness  to  sinners  who  came  to  him  for 
comfort  and  advice.  The  most  lost  acd  dfpraved  of 
these  he  would  address  io  words  of  encouragement : 
"  All  I  esk  of  you  is,  not  10  despair !  "  To  those  who 
reinonstraied  against  tiiii  excess  of  mercy,  he  contented 


BTE.  JEANNE-FRANCOISE  DE  CEAlfTAL.  487 

himielf  with  replfiag,  "  Had  Saul  besa  ngected,  ihonld 
we  bttTe  had  Si.  Paul  1 " 

ThU  good  prelate  died  Buddentj  in  IG23,  and  wai 
canonized  by  Alexander  VIL  in  1665.  Bossaet,  Bonr- 
daloae,  and  fishier  eaihrined  Mm  in  ttieir  el(K[neDt 
homage. 

PortraiCa  and  devotional  prints  and  pictnres  of  Sl 
Francis  de  Sales  were  fotmarly  rery  popaUr  in  France. 
In  the  churches  of  the  coareau  of  the  Viatta^n,  and 
la  the  cburchaa  of  the  Uinimes,  they  wero  commoQlj 
met  with.  The  Minimes  have  enrolled  him  in  theit 
own  Order,  in  conseqaence  of  his  extreme  veneration 
for  their  patriarch  St.  Fraocia  de  Paula ;  but  if  ha  ii 
to  be  included  in  any  Order,  I  believe  ic  ehonld  be  that 
of  the  Aoguaidaea,  as  a  n^lar  canon  or  prieU. 

He  was  so  remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  his  penan, 
and  the  angelic  expression  of  his  regular  and  delieaia 
foatuces,  that  painting  conld  hardly  idealiie  him.  He 
is  represented  in  the  episcopal  cope,  generally  bu9> 
headed;  and  in  prints  the  nsoal  attribate  is  a  heut 
pierced  and  crowned  with  thoms,  and  anrmoonted  bf 
a  cross  placed  within  a  glor;  of  light. 

The  finest  devotional  fignre  of  him  I  have  ever  Men 
is  in  the  Urge  picture,  by  Carlo  Moratta,  in  the  Chnrch 
of  the  FiUppini  (Oratorians)  at  ForU. 

Bte.  Jeanne-Fran  (Oihb  de  Chartai.,  tba  latMt 
of  the  canonized  saints  who  is  of  any  genenl  intere*^ 
was  the  grandmother  of  Madame  de  Serignd;  and 
some  people  will  probably  regard  her  as  mote  innr- 
esting  in  that  relationship  than  even  as  a  i-^Tmnij^^ 

Mademoiselle  de  Fremiot,  fbr  that  was  her  maiden 
and  secular  name,  was  even  as  a  child  remarkable  for 
her  religioua  enthusiasm.  One  day  a  Calvioiit  gen- 
tleman who  visited  her  paienia,  presented  her  with 
Kme  bons-bons.  She  immediiuel/  Bong  Ehem  into, 
the   fire,  saying,  as  she  &zad  her  ejH   npon  Um, 


4n  LEGSSDi  OF  TBS  MONAaTlC  OHDOtK. 

"ToiDi,  montivitr,  cummoil  in  bMtiquoi  brOleran 
dant  Vtnfn  I  " 

Sbe  did  iMt,  hownTn-.  grow  np  a  cruel  rinatic, 
thtMtgh  «he  remBinnl  a  devool  eniliusian.  She  mar- 
ried, in  ob«dieace  to  htr  parents,  the  Baron  ie  Chanlsl ; 

were  left  a  widow  she  would  redit  from  tlie  world  luid 
dodivato  berwlf  to  a  ifligiom  Ulb. 

II«r  hashand  died  wben  she  woa  in  her  twenty-Dmth 
y«tf,  and  tor  iho  next  ten  yean  of  lier 
•ednlouslj  employed  in  the  care  and  edueation  of 
fbnr  children ;  Btill  preparing  henelf  for  the  fulllt 

In  the  ytai  1610  she  acEiBted  St.  Frsucis  de  Sal 
the  inslitDtion  oF  the  Order  of  the  VieitatioD.  Hi 
arran)|;ed  the  future  dectiniea  of  her  children,  nnd 
lied  Iter  son  advenlngeoualj  to  Mfldemoisolle  do  (Joa- 
langes,  she  prepared  lo  renannre  all  intcreonrse  with 
the  world,  and  To  aesiirae  the  direction  of  the  new 
Order,  an  "la  A/cte  Chanlol."  Her  children,  who 
wemiid  to  have  loved  her  passionately,  opposed  her 
resoltition.  On  the  day  oo  which  she  whs  to  withdraw 
from  her  hotoe.  her  Eon,  the  father  of  Madame  de 
Sevign*.  threw  himself  on  the  ground  before  the  thresh- 
old of  her  door.  She  paased  for  a  moment  and  burst 
into  t«ars ;  then  stepping  over  him,  went  on,  siid  the 
aacrifipc  was  consummated. 

Before  her  death.  Madame  de  Chantal  counted 
seveRty-fire  boDSes  of  her  Order  in  France  and  Savoy ; 
and,  from  ifa  non-exclusive  spirit,  this  commonitj 
became  useful  as  welt  as  popular.  When  St,  Yincenl 
de  Paul  iuBtitDted  the  Heipke  dt  la  Maddeoie,  a&  a 
refuge  for  poor  erring;  women,  he  plaixd  it  under  the 
suporiBlondence  of  iho  Sisters  of  the  VisitalioQ,  called 
in  France  "  Sirars  de  Sitinle-Marit." 

La  M%re  Fran^oige  died  iu  1641.  and  was  canonized 
by  Clement  XIV.  (Gangaoel]!)  in  1769.  Madame  de 
Sevigtie  did  not  live  to  see  bee  "lamte  Gfemde-Maman" 
TMaive  dia  honors  of  bwtificatioa;  but,  ftom  varioui 


:a^^H 


BTS.  JEANNE-FRAlfCOISE  DE  CHANTAL.  489^ 

'pusogea  or  her  letters,  sbe  appears  to  1 

bar  with  deep  veneration,  and  10  have  cherished  for  hi 

lake   "  ane  espdco  de  fratemit^  hifTC'dita 

Soeure  de  Stc-Marie,  qu'elle  ne  maaquuit  point  t 

Tisiter  partout  oti  alle  all  ait." 

Long  berorc   her  canonization,  pictures  and  prinn' 
□f  La  Mbro  de  Chanlal  as  foundrcsa  of  her  tomrnu- 
nity  were  commonly  met  with  ;  the  only  snliject  from 
ber  life  repieaenta  her  receiving  trom  the  hands  of 
St.  FraDcii  de  Bales  the  Bnle  of  the  Order  of  the  Vi»- 


i 


□ATE  DUE 

STANFORD  UNIVERSITY  UBRARIES 
STANFORD,  CALIFORNIA    94309-600* 


{ 


THE  LIFE  OF  OUR  LORD 

IN  ART 

WITH   SOME  ACCOUNT   OF 

THE  ARTISTIC   TREATMENT  OF 

THE   LIFE  OF  ST.  JOHN 

THE   BAPTIST 


ESTELLE  M.  HURLL 

EDITOK  OF  MRS.  JAMESOfTS  SACRED  AND 
LEGENDARY  ART 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


■^f-- 


\y 


51235'^ 


COPYRIGHT,  18B8,  BY  E8TELLE  M.  HURLL 
AND  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  ft  CO. 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


/ 


:-::    : 


..,.::-  ^  ^     "       •••  ••'  *••  ••'  * 


TO 

FATHER   AND    MOTHER 

THIS    VOLUME   IS   DEDICATED 
IN  LOVE  AND  GRATITUDE 


PREFACE 


The  life  of  Our  Lord  is  the  grandest  subject  in  sacred 
the  culminating  point  of  interest  of  all  study  in  this  direct 
The  present  book  is  the  natural  outgrowth  of  the  writer's 
itorial  work  upon  the  revision  of  Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Sacred 
Legendary  Art."  It  was  a  cause  of  great  regret  to  all  aJwi 
of  Mrs.  Jameson,  that  upon  her  death  in  1860,  the  crowi 
work  of  her  series,  which  was  to  take  up  the  history  of 
Lord,  was  still  so  far  from  completion.  She  had  made  read, 
material  on  the  most  important  of  all  ChriBtian  subjects, 
Lord's  Passion ;  and  on  various  other  incidents  in  his  life, 
collected  notes  were  quite  insufficient.  In  this  lack  of  mat* 
from  the  favorite  author's  own  hand,  and  with  almost  i 
hauatible  stores  of  art  information  made  available  by  re 
investigation,  there  has  for  some  years  been  a  very  appa 
need  for  the  work  which  the  present  writer  has  atttmpted. 

The  book  is  intended  to  be  a  brief  descriptive  history  of 
art  illustrating  the  incidents  in  the  historic  life  of  Christ, 
few  connected  incidents  from  the  life  of  St.  John  the  Ba] 
are  also  included  in  due  course.  All  symbolical  and  allej 
cal  Christ  art  and  the  history  of  Christ  portraiture  are  enti 
omitted  as  lying  outside  a  theme  quite  sufficient  in  itself  f 

The  subjects  are  arranged  not  according  to  the  group 
tem  which  has  sometimes  been  adopted,  but  in  the  chror 
gical  order  approved  in  accepted  Harmonies,  Robinson  b 
the  leading  authority.  Great  pains  are  taken  to  disting 
incidents  which  have  frequently  been  confused,  as  the 
I  and  the  Presentation,  the  miracles  of  feeding 


multitude,  the  two  occasions  of  cleansing  the  Temple,  and  fhe 
various  feast  scenes.  Thus,  it  is  hoped,  the  book  will  be  mora 
useful  to  Bible  students. 

A  systematic  plan  of  treatment  has  been  followed  thxonghoat^ 
and  in  connection  with  every  subject  a  certain  number  of  pointe 
are  uniformly  set  forth :  the  relation  of  the  subject  to  the  life 
and  character  of  ChriHt ;  the  origin  and  history  of  its  art  treat- 
ment ;  the  reasons  for  its  popularity  or  neglect ;  its  appropri- 
ateness for  representation ;  the  traditional  type  of  compoeition 
and   the  variations  ix)S8iblo  to  it;  and,  finally,  a  descriptive 
account  of  the  leading  representative  pictures  from  the  origin 
of  the  subject  to  the  present  day.     All  these  points  are  neoee- 
Barily  very   briefly  touched  in  order  to  bring  so  much  mate- 
rial into   reasonably  Kmall  compass.     In  some  few  cases  (not 
more   than   six)    where    Mrs.    Jameson's   researches  were  of 
unusual  interest,  quotations  are  made  direct  from  her  notes. 
Otherwise  descriptive  quotations  have  been  as  a  rule  avoided, 
IS  marring  the  homogeneity  of  the  text.     Usually  an  author's 
Dwn  words  are  of  more  value  to  the  reader  than  a  far  more 
eloquent  and  autlioritative  statement  by  another,  simply  be- 
cause the  former  are  in  better  harmony  with  the  general  trend 
3f  thought.     As   art    is  here  treated  from  the  standpoint  of 
illustration,  the  matter  of  first  importance  in  describing  a  pic- 
ture has  been  the  dramatic  motif  of  the  composition.     The 
position  of  the  principal  figure,  the  action  and  gesture  which 
3xpress  his  intention,  the  relation  of  the  subordinate  figures 
to  the  central  thought,  these  are  the  points  which  reveal  the 
irtist's  interpretation  of  the  narrative.    The  external  history  of 
I  picture  and  its  artistic  qualities  are  matters  which  also  claim 
5ome  attention,  so   that  in  the  end  we  may  know  what  the 
painter  meant  to  say,  how  he  has  said  it,  and  what  impression 
ais  work  has  made  in  history. 

In  a  book  of  this  sort  the  illustrations  form  so  important  a 
part  that  some  explanation  on  this  subject  may  be  permitted. 
With  some  half  dozen  exceptions  every  subject  treated  is  illus- 
trated, and  in  several  cases  by  two  pictures,  making  a  total  of 
104  illustrations.     The  selection  made  for  full-page  plates  is 


from  those  sixteen  subjects  which  present  the  main  facts  ir 
the  history  of  Jesus  the  Christ :  that  he  was  humbly  born  ir 
the  Bethlehem  manger ;  that  he  awoke  to  his  sacred  missior 
at  the  age  of  twelve ;  that  he  was  set  apart  for  his  work  at  hh 
baptism  ;  that  he  went  about  doing  good,  gracing  the  wedding 
feast,  blessing  the  children,  encouraging  the  fishermen,  healing 
the  sick,  forgiving  sinners,  raising  from  the  dead ;  that  he  was 
transfigured  before  three  of  his  disciples ;  that  he  was  crucifiec 
on  Calvary  ;  that  he  rose  again  from  the  dead ;  and  that  h( 
finally  ascended  into  heaven.  All  the  minor  incidents  arc 
illustrated  by  drawings  inserted  in  the  text. 

As  to  the  particular  pictures  used,  many  considerations  guidec 
the  choice,  the  primary  object  being  to  present  an  historica 
set  of  pictures  properly  illustrative  of  the  text,  and  to  represen 
.therein  the  greatest  names  of  the  history  of  art.  As  there  ar< 
about  fourteen  subjects  from  Christ's  life  which  date  from  j 
very  early  period  in  the  Christian  era,  examples  of  all  thes< 
primitive  compositions  are  reproduced  to  show  the  germ  fron 
which  was  evolved  the  final  type  composition. 

Of  the  great  old  masters  the  following  will  be  found  wel 
represented :  Giotto,  Duccio,  Raphael,  Bonifazio,  Titian,  Tin 
toretto.  The  principal  northern  engravers  also  appear :  DUrer 
Schongauer,  Holbein,  and  Rembrandt. 

A  goodly  number  of  other  famous  names  are  included  in  th< 
list  of  artists  with  fairly  representative  work:  Angelico,  Bor 
gognone,  Carpaccio,  Cima,  Correggio,  Ghirlandajo,  Mantegna 
Moretto,  Murillo,  Perugino,  Rubens,  Van  Dyck,  Veronese 
The  modern  schools  have  also  their  share  of  attention :  pre 
Raphael  itism  in  Holman  Hunt,  Sir  John  Millais,  Sir  Ed  wan 
Burne- Jones,  and  Ford  Madox  Brown ;  the  German  mystL 
realism  in  Fritz  von  Uhde  ;  while  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  Hof 
mann,  Bida,  Dore,  Vedder,  and  others  are  included. 

Many  times  choice  was  made  difficult  by  an  embarrassmen 
of  riches,  where  certain  subjects  inspired  the  best  sacred  worl 
of  several  artists.  For  instance,  the  Descent  from  the  Crosi 
is  the  best  work  of  Christ  art  by  Fra  Angelico,  Rubens,  an( 
Volterra ;  the    Baptism  represents   the   best   order  of   Chris 


..^.m.  III  iJima,  Bellini,  and  WroGchia  ConTaradyy  same  of 
the  greatest  artists  must  be  inadequately  represented  because 
they  painted  so  few  incidents  from  Christ's  life,  and  these  for 
mechanical  reasons  unavailable  for  our  purpose.  Thus  Da 
Vinci's  only  Christ  picture,  the  Jjast  Supper,  is  unayailable 
because  already  preoccupied  in  the  illustrations  of  **  Sacred  and 
Legendary  Art,"  while  Veronese's  best  works,  the  feast  scenes, 
are  too  large  and  crowded  to  bo  reproduced  successfully  on  a 
small  scale. 

In  spite  of  trifling  diflicultics  of  this  kind,  the  scheme  of 
illustrations,  as  completed,  is  one  wliich  tlie  writer  trusts  will 
commend  itself  to  the  kind  consideration  of  tlie  critic. 

ESTKLLK    M.    HURLL. 
New  Bedford,  Mash.,  May,  1808. 


CONTENTS 

Authorities  consulted  by  the  Author 

I.   INTRODUCTION 

I.  Serial  Art  Treatment  of  the  Life  of  Christ 

II.  Serial   Art   Treatment  of    the    Life    of    St. 

John  the  Baptist 

IL  THE  PREPARATION  FOR  OUR  LORD'S  ADVEJ^ 

I.  The  Annunciation  to  Zacharias 

II.  The  Annunciation  to  Mary  the  Virgin  .    .    . 

III.  The  Annunciation  to  Joseph     ....... 

IV.  The  Birth  of  St.  John  the  Baptist     .... 
V.  The   Circumcision  and   Naming    of    St.    John 

THE  Baptist 

VI.  The  Annunciation  to  the  Shepherds  .... 
Vn.  The  Star  appearing  to  the  Wise  Men    .    .    . 

IIL    THE  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD    OF  OUR    LO 

I.  The  Nativity  of  Our  Lord 

II.  The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds 

III.  The  Circumcision 

IV.  The  Presentation  in  the  Temple 

V.  The  Adoration  of  the  Magi 

VI.  Joseph's  Dream  ;  The  Flight  ;  The  Sojourn  in 

Egypt  and  Return 

VIL  The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  ...... 

Vin.  The  Child  Jesus  in  the  Temple 

IV.  THE   PREPARATION  FOR  THE  MINISTRY 

I.  The  Preaching  of  St.  John  the  Baptist      .    . 
11.  The  Baptism  of  Our  Lord 

III.  The  Temptation  of  Our  Lord 

IV.  The  Marriage  at  Cana 


«.  rKOM  THK  FIRST  TO  THE  SECOND  PASSOVER 

I.  TiiK  FiKsT  Clkansinu  of  THK  Tkmple    ....    00 
II.  The  DiHrorKHK  with  Xu-onKMrH 101 

III.  The  Di(M*orR8K  with  thk  Woman  or  Samabia  .  102 

IV.  Thk  Call  or  Pktkk  am>  Andrew;  Jambs  and 

tFoHN ;    AMI   thk    MiBArruK'H    Dkauoht    op 

FiSHKS 106 

V.  Thk  IIkaling  of  thk   Dkmiiniac  in  thk  Syna- 

ofNirK 113 

VI.  Christ  IIkalincj  thk  Sick IH 

VII.  Thk  Lkper  Clkankki> 117 

VIII.  TiiK  Paralytic  IIkalkd 118 

IX.  Thk  Call  of  Matthkw 120 


VI.  FROM  THE  SECOND  TO  THE  THIRD  PASSOVER 

I.  Thk  Impotkxt  Man   Hkalki>  at  thk  Pf>oL  of 

Betiiksda 124 

II.  Thk  Max  with  thk  Witiikukd  Hand  Hkalkd  .  126 

III.  Thk  Skrmon  ox  tiik  Mount 127 

IV.  The  Healixci  of  the  Cextikiox's  Sekvaxt  .    .  131 
V.  The  Haisin<;  of  the  Widow's  Sox  at  Xaix  .     .  132 

VI.  Chkist  <;iviN(i  Skjiit  to  the  Umnd 134 

Vir.  The  Feast  in  the  IIoise  of  Simon  the  Phari- 
see     135 

VIII.  The    First    (ikotp   of    Pakahles:   The    Sower 

AND  the  Enemy  sow i no  Tares 130 

IX.  Chiust  8tillin(j  the  Tempest 144 

X.  The  Demoniacs  of  (1a  da  ha  Healed 145 

XL  Christ  Raising  the  Dau(jhtek  of  Jaikts      .     .  116 
XII.  Christ  Healincj  the  Woman  who  touched  the 

Hem  of  his  Garment 140 

XIII.  Christ  Healing  Two  Blind  ]\Ien  in  Capehnacm  152 

XIV.  Christ  Walking  on  the  Water 15:5 

XV.  Christ  Feeding  the  Five  Thousand 155 

Vai.  FROM  THE  THIRD    PASSOVER    TO    THE    ENTRY 

INTO  JERUSALEM 

L  Christ    and    the   Canaanite   (or   Syro-Phceni- 

cian)  Woman 161 

II.  Christ  Feeding  the  Four  Thousand     ....  103 
III.  Christ  Healing  the  Blind  Max  of  Bethsaida  164 


rV.  The  Transfiguration     . 165 

V.  Christ  Healing  the  Demoniac  Child    ....  169 
VI.  The  Tribute  Money  miraculously  Provided  .  170 

VII.  The  Ten  Lepers  Healed 172 

VIII.  Christ  with  the  Woman  taken  in  Adultery  .  173 
IX.  The  Good  Samaritan 178 

X.  Christ  in  the  House  of  Martha  and  Mary    .  180 

XI.  The  Restoration  of  the  Man  born  Blind  .    .  184 
XII.  The  Raising  of  Lazarus 185 

XIII.  The   Parables   of   the  Lost   Sheep,  the  Lost 

Money,  and  the  Prodigal  Son 194 

XIV.  The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Steward      .    .     .  202 

XV.  The  Parable  of  the  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus  .  203 
XVI.  The  Parable  of  the   Pharisee  and   the   Pub- 
lican  207 

XVII.  Christ  Blessing  Little  Children 208 

XVIII.  Christ  and  the  Rich  Young  Man 212 

XIX.  The   Parable   of   the   Laborers   in  the  Vine- 
yard      214 

XX.  The  Request   of   the  Mother   of  James   and 

John 216 

XXI.  Christ  Healing  the  Blind  Men  of  Jericho     .  218 

VIII.   THE  PASSION 

I.  Introduction  :  Serial  Art  Treatment  of  the 

Passion 219 

II.  The  Entry  into  Jerusalem 226 

III.  Christ  Weeping  over  Jerusalem 231 

IV.  Christ  Cleansing  the  Temple .  231 

V.  Christ    discussing   the    Tribute    Money  with 

the  Pharisees 233 

VI.  The  Parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins 234 

VII.  The  Last  Supper 239 

VIII.  Christ  Washing  the  Disciples'  Feet    ....  246 

IX.  Our  Lord's  Farewell  Discourse 251 

X.  The  Agony  in  the  Garden,  or  Christ  on  the 

Mount 252 

XI.  The  Betrayal   and   Arrest  of  Jesus  ;  Christ 

led  away  Captive 258 

XII.  Christ  before  Annas 262 

XHI.  Christ  before  Caiaphas 263 

XIV.  The  Mocking 266 

XV.  Christ's  First  Appearance  before  Pilate  .     .  268 

XVI.  Christ  before  Herod 269 


...«ii.  ciikiht'h  Laht  Appkakanck  bkpokk  Pilatb    .    •  S71 
kVIII.  TiiK  Flagkllatio.v  on  S<'orK(Si.N(( 275 

XIX.   C'llKIST   ('KOW.VKI»   WITH   TllOKXH 278 

XX.  KccE  Homo 281 

XXL  CiiRiHT  LED  TO  Calvaky 287 

KLXII.  TlIK  PkKPARATION  for  THR  CKt'dFIXlON      .     •     .  291 

XIII.  TlIK  (^RrciFixioN 202 

IXIV.  TlIK  Dkhcknt  fr(»m  thk  Ckohh 803 

XXV.  TlIK  I)kp«>hition  am>  Pkkparation  for  Bi'rial.  307 

LXVI.  TiiK  Kntomrmknt 811 

XVII.  The  Dkhcknt  into  Limbi'h 814 

:.  FROM  THE  RESrRHECTION  TO  THE   ASC'ENSION 
I.  Thk  UKHrRKKCTioN 315 

II.   TlIK    AxciKL    APPKAKINCi    TO   TIIK    WoMKN   AT  THE 

Tomb 321 

III.   C1IKI8T   APPEARING    TO    MaUY    MaODALKNK  :  NoU 

MK  Tangkkk 325 

IV.  The  Walk  to  Emmats 330 

V.  The  Srri'EK  at  Em  mats 332 

VI.  The  Unbelief  of  Thomas 335 

VII.  The  Ascension 339 

Index 345 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Artist  Pagi 

Christ  and  Philip  (p.  252)   (Venice 

Academy) '.     .     .    Bonifazio    .  Frontispiece 

The  Angel  appearing  to  Zacharias 

(S.  Croce,  Florence) Giotto 2^ 

The    Annunciation    to    the    Virgin 

(Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence)      .     .     .     School  of  Botticelli   .     .     2*3 

Joseph's  Dream   (Dresden   Gallery)     Raphael  Mengs    ...    21 

The  Birth  of  St.  John  the  Baptist 

(Berlin  Gallery) Roger  van  der  Weyden    3t 

The  Circumcision  of  St.  John  the 

Baptist  (Urbino) Giacomo  San  Severino  .     3* 

The  Angel  appearing  to  the  Shep- 
herds (S.  Croce,  Florence)     .     .     .     Taddeo  Gaddi     ...    31 

The    Star   appearing  to   the   Kings 

(Berlin  Gallery) Roger  van  der  Weyden    41 

The  Nativity  (Siena  Cathedral  pul- 
pit)      Niccolo  Pisano    .     .     .    '4^ 

The  Nativity Burne-Jones    . 

The   Adoration    of    the    Shepherds 

(Prado  Gallery,  Madrid)  ....    Murillo  .     .    . 

The    Circumcision    (Uffizi    Gallery, 

Florence) Mantegna  .     . 

The    Presentation    in    the    Temple 

(Louvre,  Paris) Borgognone 

The  Kings  before  Herod  and  the 
Adoration  of  the  Kings  (bas-relief 
from  early  Christian  sarcophagus) 6i] 

The  Adoration  of  the  Kings  (Flor- 
ence Academy) Gentile  da  Fabriano     .     64 

Joseph's  Dream  (Belvedere  Gallery, 

Vienna) Daniele  Crespi    ...     68 

The  Flight  into  Egypt  (Arena  Chapel, 

Padua) Giotto 7C 

Christ  found  in  the  Temple  (Bir- 
mingham Art  Gallery)      ....     Holman  Hunt ....     74 


4( 
5] 


5^ 


5£ 


cesco,  AMiiHi) (ittttto 77 

he  Baptism  (S.  (lio^'atiiii  in  Bra* 

gora,  Venice) ( 'ima  tin  (  \merfliano     .     82 

he  liaptiMin  (i\'ory  ItaH-relief  from 
throne  of  BiHlioj)  Maximian)  (lia- 

venna  Cathedral) 83 

he  Temptation  (Florence*   Baptitt- 

tery) fihiltrrti 80 

hriHt  changing  Water  into  AVin«» 
(baft-relief   from    early   ChriHtian 

ftarcophaguft) 04 

he    Marriage  at  Cana   (S.  Maria 

della  Salute,  Venice) Tintoretto 06 

brist  and  the  Woman  of  Samaria 
(baft-relief   from   early    Chrifttian 

sarcophagus) 103 

irist  and  the  Woman  of  Samaria 

(Seminario,  Venice) Filippino  Lippi    .     .    .  104 

he  Call  of  Peter  and  Andrew  (pulpit 

inChurchof  St.  Andrew,  Antwerp) 100 

he  ^Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes 

(Mechlin) Rithcns 110 

lie  Call  of  James  and  John  (Venice 

Academy) Jhsaid Ill 

irist    liealing  the   Leper    (Sistinc* 

Cliapel,  Rome) (-osimo  Jioselll     .     .     .117 

irist  liealing  the  Lame  IMan  (bas- 
relief  from  early  Christian  sarco- 
phagus)   119 

le  Call  of  Matthew  (Antwerp  Mu- 
seum)       ()t(o  Vornius    ....  123 

irist  and  the  Lame  Man  (Munich 

Gallery) Afhr  Van  Jh/ck'  .     .     .  125 

le  Sermon  on  the  Mount  (Sistine 

Chapel,  Rome) Cosimo  Roselli     .     .     .  120 

irist  and  the  Centurion  (Dresden 

Gallery) Veronese 132 

irist  raising  the  Son  of  the  Widow 

of  Nain Bida 133 

irist  giving  Sight  to  the  Blind  (bas; 
relief  from  early  Christian  sarco- 
phagus)   135 


The  Feast  in  the  House  of  Simon  (S. 
Maria  della  Pietk,  Venice)    .    .     .    Moretto 13( 

The  Sower Millet 141 

The  Enemy  sowing  Tares    ....     Vedder Hi 

Christ  raising  the  Daughter  of  Jai- 
rus Dore 14'3 

Woman  kneeling  at  Christ's  Feet 
(bas-relief  from  early  Christian 
sarcophagus) 15( 

Christ  healing  the  Woman  who 
touched  the  Hem  of  his  Garment 
(Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna)      .     .     Veronese 151 

Christ  and  Peter  on  the  Water  (Span- 
ish Chapel,  Florence) Attributed    to    Antonio 

Veneziano    ....  15^ 

The  Multiplication  of  Loaves  (wall 
painting  in  the  Cemetery  of  SS. 
Marcellino  e  Pietro) 15*3 

Christ  blessing  the  Loaves  (Convent 

of  S.  Anna,  Pienza) Sodoma 15£ 

Christ  and  the   Canaanite  Woman 

(Venice  Academy) Palma 16^ 

The  Multiplication  of  Loaves  (bas- 
relief  from  early  Christian  sarco- 
phagus)   164 

The  Transfiguration  (Vatican  Gal- 
lery, Rome) Raphael 166 

The  Miracle  of  the  Tribute  Money 

(Corsini  Gallery,  Rome)  ....     Rihera 171 

Christ  and  the  Adulteress  (S.  Afra, 

Brescia) Giulio  Campi  .     .     .     .  17( 

The  Good  Samaritan  (Louvre,  Paris)     Rembrandt       .     .     .     .171 

Christ  with  Martha  and  Mary  .     ,     .     Siemiradzkl    .     ...  18* 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus  (wall  paint- 
ing in  the  Cubiculum  of  S.  Cecilia) 18J 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus Rembrandt 19] 

The  Lost    Sheep   (Siena  Cathedral 

Library) Liberate  da  Verona  .     .  191 

The  Lost  Piece  of  Money    ....    Millais 19( 

The  Prodigal's  Repentance  ....     DUrer lO"] 

The  Prodigal's  Return  (Museum  of 

Fine  Arts,  Boston) W.  M.  Hunt   .     .     .     .  20( 

The  Unjust  Steward  (Siena  Cathe- 
dral Library) Liberate  da  Verona  .     .  20i 


') l.Arralf  tla  IV™nfl  .     .  213 

Motlicrof  Jaiiitvs 

»«all(.ry,Komp)    lUmi/atio JIT 

tttUoin  (bfu-relinf 

ian  BArcopliBguA) 227 

) Ihicric 220 

(dBtall)  (Arena 


Sehongaufr 
Xrhnnijaucr 
Frit:  \>tm  I 'Mr 


I 


.  247 


■tcr'a    Feet    (N.i- 

ndon)    ....  Fwd  Madnx  Br..<,;,       .350 

larden    ....  SohniignuFr       ....  355 

ence  Bapti-sterj-)      GI,S-irli 359 

ihaa  (Baslfi  Mii- 

Holbein 284 

iGce  Academy)   .  Frti  Aiigrlict,  ....  207 

DUrfr    ' 270 

(bas-relipf  troiii 

rcophagus) 372 

!  (S.  Bocoo,  Veil-  s 


i    Gallery, 

....     fii;/,wrflli 
IS  (Munich 


Christ  led  to  Calvary  (sixth  century 

mosaic) 28' 

Christ   bearing   the   Cross   (Verona 

Gallery) Morando 281 

The  Crucifixion  (twelfth  century  mo- 
saic) (S.  Marco,  Venice) 29,' 

The  Crucifixion  (detail)  (S.  Rocco, 
Venice) Tintoretto 29^ 

The  Crucifixion  (Dresden  Gallery)   .     Durer 30] 

The  Descent  from  the  Cross  (Trinity 
de'  Monti,  Rome) Daniele  da  Volterra  .     .  30{ 

The  Deposition  (Venice  Academy)  .     Marconi 301 

The  Entombment Mantegna 31^ 

The  Resurrection  (Vatican  Gallery, 

Rome) Perugino 31( 

The  Resmrection Diirer 31  f 

The    Holy   Women    at    the    Tomb 

(Opera  del  Duomo,  Siena)     .     .     .     Duccio 32c 

Mary  Magdalene  in  the  Tomb .     .     .     Burne-,Jones    .     .     .     .327 

The  Supper  at  Emmaus  (S.  Salva- 
tore,  Venice) Carpaccio 33^ 

Clu'ist  appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene 

(Prado  Gallery,  Madrid)  ....     Correggio 326 

The  Walk  to  Emmaus  (National  Gal- 
lery, London) Altobello  de*  Melloni     .  331 

Christ  and  Thomas  (Or  San  Michele, 

Florence) Verocchio 337 

The  Ascension  (Duomo,  Florence)    .    Luca  della  Rohhia    .     .  34C 


The  pen  and  ink  drawings  were  made  by  John  Huyhers  and  Pietro  Valerio. 


AUTHOKITIES  CONSULTED   BY  THE  AUTHOR 

Eauly  and  Mediaeval  Art 

Seroux  d'Agincourt.     Histoire  de  Part  par  les  monumens.    Paris, 

1823. 
Monographie  de  la  Cathedrale  de  Chartres,  publiee  par  les  soins 

dii  ministre  de  Tinstruction  publique.     Paris,  1867. 
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P.  Gelis-Didot  et  H.  Laffillee.    La  peinture  decoratif  en  France 

du  XI  an  XVI  siecle.     Paris. 
Gravina.     Duomo  di  Monreale.     Palermo,  1859. 
Charles  I.  Hemans.     History  of  Ancient  Christianity  and  Sacred 

Art  in  Italy.    London,  1866.    Mediaeval  Christianity  and  Sacred 

Art.     London,  1869. 
Alex.  Ferd.  Wil.  Rob.  Quast,  editor  of  Denkmaeler  der  Kunst  des 

Mittelalter's    in   Unteritalien,   by   Heinrich   Wilhelm   Schultz. 

Dresden,  1860. 
Franz  von  Reber.     History  of  Mediaeval  Art:    New  York,  1887. 
John  Ruskin.     "  Our  Fatliers  have  told  us."     Part  I.     The  Bibk 

of  Amiens.     New  York,  1898. 
AVestwood.     Facsimiles  of  the  Miniatures   of  Anglo-Saxon  and 

Irish  Manuscripts.     London,  1868. 

Italian  Art:  General  Works 

Bernhard  Berenson.  The  Venetian  Painters  of  the  Renaissance. 
New  York  and  London,  1894.  The  Florentine  Painters  of  the 
Renaissance.  New  York  and  London,  1896.  The  Central 
Italian  Painters  of  the  Renaissance.  New  York  and  London. 
1897. 

Timothy  Cole.  Old  Italian  Masters.  With  Notes  by  W.  J.  Still- 
man.     New  York,  1892. 

Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle.  History  of  Painting  in  Italy.  London. 
1864.     History  of  Painting  in  North  Italy.  •  London,  1871. 

Luigi  Lanzi.     Storia  Pittorica  della  Italia.     Milan,  1824. 

Sir  A.  H.  Layard's  Revision  of  Kugler's  Handbook  of  the  Italian 
Schools.    London,  1887. 


^...  1  nncfti  Sluitltu  »(  ilm  lullan  l^uol 
TranaUtoa  bjr  Cotutnnii-  Jow]ju  Ffoulkra.  Luiulun.  IffUil. 
ingfene  Mitntc    IIifiU)tn<  Je  I'lin  |»ii<iiint  lu  t-iiauwi*.*..     IVrw, 

inutida.     Hnnumanc*  In  Iul>* :  Tliv  Fine  Artok 

.-        «.  u.  t^- Ciutitftn..     KdiU'J  l.j  R  II.  iM»l  E.  W.  Bl 
muU  ana  A.  A.  llupkin*.    N«»  Yurk,  18U7. 

Itauan  AiiTntm 

^oneggio.     Jiiliiw  Klrjitr:  Antonio  AUogri  da  Corregjiio.     EiUlAfl 

by  Mrs.  C.  Hi^ntnn.     Ixiiiiloii.  li^tl. 
Coiradci  Kicci :  Aiitt.iifo  Altejiri  da  {'orn'ggio,  lu*   Life,  his 

Friends,   atiii   )ii»  Time.    TruusIiitBil  \ry  Vlotvnm  8ininiOD<la. 

London,  Ihfril. 
iiotto.    JoJiri    lliirikin:  GiotU)  nnd  bin  Work*  in    I'lulua.    New 

York,  18ft> 
»tto.    Beriili:ir<l  B^renaon;  l.oratiKn  I<ottn,  lui  nuiiy  in  canRlfUp- 

tire  art  criticisrn.    New  York,  IStlli.  , 

tftphael.    Mrs.  Henry  Ady  (".Inlin  Cnrlwrighl ") :  Tha  Bulf' 

Work    of    Raphael.       I'orl.f.ilio    Moin-|;rn|.li.      Uiidoii,    1M5. 

Raphael  in  Home.    Portfolio  MonoKrui'l'-     I.omloii.  lfW5. 
Eugbne  Miiiit:;:   Rapliutt,  triinsl.it^d  by  \\'4lt«r  Artnstfotig. 

London,  1882. 
lUca  delln  Ilobbin.     Cavalucti  et  Molinier :  Lcs  Dtlla  Itobbia,  leur 

vie  et  leur  isiivre.    Paris,  3SHI4. 

Marcel  Reymond :  I^s  Delia  Robbia-     Florenne,  18D7. 
'itian.    Crow-e  and  Cavukaselle  :  Titinn.  his  Lift*  nnd  Times. 

London,  1877. 
Claude   Phillips:    Tiie   Earlier  Work  of  Titian.      Portfolio 

Monograph.     London,  1897.     The  Later  Work  of  Titian.    Port- 
folio Monograph.     London,  1898. 
'intoretto.     Frank  Preston  Stearns ;  Life  and  Gt'iiins  of  Jacojio 

Robnstj.     New  York,  1801. 


r;  Gknkhai.  Woiiks 
.ugfene  Fromentin.      Old    MaBters   of   Belgium    iiiul    Holland. 

Translated  by  Mary  C.  Rohbins.    Boston,  US'2. 
I.  Janitschek     Geschichte  der  Deiitschen  Kunst     Berlin.  1890. 
bugler's  Handbook  of  the  G«rnLan,  Flemish,  and  Dutch  Schools. 

Revised  by  J.  A.  Crowe.    London,  1889. 


>hn  Smith.     A  Catalogue  Raisonne  of  the  works  of  the  most 
eminent  Dutch,  Flemish,  and  French  Painters.    London,  1831. 

Northern  Artists 

Diirer.     Amand-Durand.     CEuvre  de  Diirer.     Paris. 

Lionel  Cust :  Albrecht  Diirer,  a  Study  of  his  Life  and  Work. 

London,  1897. 
Moritz  Thausing :  Diirer,  his  Life  and  Works.     Translated  by 

F.  A.  Eaton.     London,  1882. 
Lucas  van  Leyden.      Amand-Durand.      CEuvre    de    Lucas    van 

Leyde.     Paris. 
Rembrandt.      L'oeuvre  complet  de  Rembrandt,  ddcrit    et  com- 

mente  par  M.  Eugene  Dutuit  et  reproduit  h  Taide  des  procedes 

de  rheliogravure  par  M.  Charreyre.     Paris,  London,  and  Leipzig, 

1883. 
Emile  Michel :  Rembrandt,  his  Life,  his  Work,  and  his  Time. 

Translated  by  Florence  Simmonds.     London,  1894. 
Schongauer.      Amand-Durand.     (Euvre  de    Schongauer.     Paris, 

1881. 

Spanish  Art 

Charles  B.  Curtis.  Velasquez  and  Murillo ;  Description  and  his- 
torical catalogue  of  their  works.     London  and  New  York,  1883. 

Sir  William  Stirling-Maxwell.  Annals  of  the  Artists  of  Spain. 
London,  1891. 

French  Art 

Clara  Cornelia  Stranahan.  History  of  French  Painting.  New 
York,  1888. 

Modern  Art:  General  Works 

Richard  Muther.     The  History  of  Modern  Painting.     New  York, 

1896. 
AVill  Low.     A  Century  of  Painting.     McClure's  Magazine,  January 

to  May,  1896. 

Modern  Artists 

Bastien-Lepage.  Mrs.  Henry  Ady  ('»'  Julia  Cartwright ") :  Jules 
Bastien-Lepage.     Portfolio  Monograph,  1894. 

Burne-Jones.  Malcom  Bell :  Edward  Burne-Jones,  a  Record  and 
Review.    London  and  New  York,  1893. 

Ford  Madox  Brown.  Ford  M.  Hueffer:  Ford  Madox  Brown,  a 
Record  of  his  Life  and  Works.  London,  New  York,  and  Bom- 
bay, 1896. 


EutUke,  uilli  u  itii^mphicnl  wid  CrUia)  SlMteb  a(  It*  " 
»rii :  Jutaii  La  fig».   TmUoUo  Hano- 

tkinwiii:  Ovprtxrck.     r^nilnn,  1X82. 

ilhiT  Woul:   Duritr   (iitbrivl    RoMwlti 
jiu-  .1     .cincnl.    >'pw  York,  I8M. 
.  BwpiHiui:    Hhuw  Gttbri«l  Ibimptti.     I'ortfolia   Klotio- 
London,  Inui. 

far.  Mrs.  iiroUi :  Mrmolr  of  thp  Life  of  Aty  Sn]|ttlT«r. 
,1860. 

V  de  Ary  Sclieffcr,  repriMliiit  cii  jihotagrajiliit-  )>ar  Bmg- 
tcoropagn^  <riiiii:>  iiutioi-  iiiir  lu  vie  ei .. »  ouvritgCH  lie  Arj' 
-,  par  L.  Vitvt.     Vntin,  1800. 

AVdltKH  0»  8ACKKD   .\iu 
n  Dyke.     Tlie  Clirist  Child  in  ArL     New  York,  1804. 
-rar.     The  I.ifo  of  Christ  ut  Kepreseuted  in  Art.     Loudon 
w  York,  18114. 

leaon.  Sacred  and  Le^ndnry  Art.  The  I^ef^nds  of  the 
la.  Edited,  with  iiddilioiial  Notes,  by  Kstelle  M.  llurll. 
1806. 

nesoti  and  Lady  Eastlake.    TIlp  Hiatoi^  of  our  Lord  as 
.tied  ill  Work*  of  Art.     London,  1H04. 
Isay.    Sketclies  of  Ciiristiau  Art.    London,  1886. 
.    L'Ai't  Chr(Stien.    Paris,  1861. 

iui de-Book  P,  Cataloques,  and  Dictionaiuks 

Northern  Italy.    Central  Italy.    Southern  Italy. 
dictionary  of  Painters  and  Engravers.     Revised  by  Robt>     1 
d  Graves.     I^ondon,  1886.  ' 

ison  Champlin,  Jr.,  and  Charles  C.  Perltins.     Cyclopedia 
ters  and  Painting.     New  York.  1886. 
J.  C.  Hare.     Walks  in  Rome.     Tliii-teentli  edition, 

London,  18S8. 
1  Joanna  Horner.    Walks  in  Florence.     London,  1873. 
ily.     A  Guide  to  the  Paintings  of  Florence.     London  aiid 
jrk,  1893.     A  Guide  to  the  Paintings  of  Venioe.    London 
w  York,  1895. 

ues  of  official  catalogues  of  the  principal  art  galleries  in 
owing  cities  ;  Antwerp,  Berlin,  Boston,  Brussels,  Dres- 
orence,  Hampton  Court,  London,  Madrid,  Milan,  Mu- 
'ew  York,  Paris,  St  Petersbui^,  Rome,  Seville,  Venice, 


THE  LIFE  OF  OUR  LORD  IN  ART 


I.  INTEODUCTION 


I.  Serial  Art  Treatment  of  the  Life  of  Christ 

Christian  art  was  developed  by  a  long  and  gradual  process 
of  evolution  from  the  simplest  origins.  It  was  not  a  graft 
upon  any  existing  growth,  but  the  independent  product  of  an 
entirely  new  germ.  Its  original  purposes  were  purely  sym- 
bolic and  instructive,  an  aid  to  faith  rather  than  a  gratification 
,of  the  aesthetic  sense. 

In  the  reaction  of  the  early  Christian  converts  against  the 
sestheticism  of  the  Romans,  beauty  was  despised  and  outward 
things  were  valued  only  for  their  significance  to  the  soul, 
Hence  it  required  some  four  or  five  centuries  for  Christian  art 
to  take  root,  and  during  this  primitive  period  the  results  were 
very  crude. 

Primitive  Period 

There  were  three  main  art  forms  of  this  time,  —  the  frescoes 
of  the  catacombs,  the  bas-relief  ornamentations  of  marble  sar- 
cophagi, and  the  mosaic  decorations  of  churches.  The  subjects 
treated  did  not  include  many  incidents  from  the  historical  life 
of  Christ,  but  such  as  were  selected  were  so  constantly  and  sc 
widely  repeated  that  they  together  form  a  very  distinctive 
cycle.  All  of  the  following  list  appeared  commonly  in  these 
early  centuries,  though  ordinarily  not  more  than  three  or  foui 
on  a  single  art  work  :  The  Adoration  of  the  Kings  ;  the  Rais- 
ing of  Lazarus ;  the  Multiplication  of  Loaves ;  the  Miracle 
of  turning  Water  into  Wine ;  the  Healing  of  the  Lame  Man ; 
the  Healing  of  the  Blind  Man ;  the  Woman  kneeling  at 
Christ's  Feet ;  the  Woman  of  Samaria ;  the  Entry  into  Jeru- 
salem ;  Christ  before  Pilate.    There  are  others  less  common,  — 


mntnji  Oin  HaptUm;  Huitt  wtuh[ngP«t«i'«'T 

i"'*"  aniintent  ol  Ihe  sixth   wntiirj    vihiob 

n«  Buly  <Tlirii>tuH  ryde  is  tho  au-ra(| 

Uuimlui,  pnjMiT^  in  the  Mcrirty  oli 

Tim  ilifli-rcut  pHHa  of  (ho  work  aad 

njiuu  m         a       were  doubllow  executed  at  diffenaV 

The  tnikiii  iMHty  of  thn  rhaiT  c<)niii*lA  of  a  wries  of  ha«r' 

panols  illustrating  Iha  life  of  i^t.  John  thn  Ltaptiat,  thaJ 

if  Joseph    (tho   patrinrch),   niirl    the    life  nf  Otir  Lcn£ 

Ifttter  incltidra  nearly  nil  Ihn  tmbj'^ctji  which  linvo  beev 

oned  nixive,  thrns  bringinK  into  r  Pingln  fRri^d  the  vftrionsj 

He  which  hnd  jirevioiisly  ocr.iirnid  only  ningly  or  in  nnaUJ 

K.  * 

it  is  alwnya  impniwihlo  to  dmw  n  hard  nnd  fast  Itn9  ojL 
■cation  between  ntiy  two  liiBtoriml  pttriods,  no  fixod  dRtBM 
«  aEsigned  to  tliii  bciginniiig  of  lli«  st^coiid  or  meduei 
I  of  Ohrietian  art.     Already  in  the  sixth  ceiitatj 

tendency  to  enlarge  the  oxi^ling  art  cycle  with  sevi 
ubjecta  from  tho  lifn  of  Christ.     The  moat  conspioni 
.ce  of  Bueh  innoviitions  was  in  the  nrnsiiics  of  S.  ApoUi 
D,  Ravcnnn,  which  are  by  far  the  most  interesting  art 
ct  of  the  period. 

Bse  adorn  the  walls  of  the  nave,  and  date  from  the  erec' 
}f  the  original  church  edifice  by  Tiieodoric  the  Great. 

are  arranged  above  the  windows,  twelve  on  each  side. 
irat  set  on  the  left  contains  the  following  subjeeta  illue- 
e  of  Christ's  ministry  :  Raising  of  Lazarus  ;  Cbriat  and 
?'oman  of  Samaria;  Christ  and  the  Woman  who  touched 
arment ;  the  Calling  of  Peter  and  Andrew ;  the  Multipli- 
.  of  Loaves ;  Christ  healing  the  Paralytic  ;  Christ  healing 
1  the  Last  Judgment ;  Call  of  Mattiiew ;  Para- 
e  and  Publican.     On  the  opposite  or  light 

the  following  subjects  from  the  Passion  are  treated, 
!B  one  composition  which  is  obliterated  i  Tho  Last  Sup- 
the  Ascension;  tho  Betrayal;  Christ  led  away  Prisoner; 
;  before  the  Sanhedrim ;  Denial  of  Peter ;  Peter  and  the 
;  Judaa  and  the  High  Priest ;  Christ  before  Pilate ; 
;  led  to  Calvary ;  Women  at  Tomb. 


Medieval  Period 

The  mosaics  of  S.  Apollinare  may  be  considered  as  marking 
the  transition  from  the  primitive  to  the  mediaeval  Christiai 
art  cycle.  In  the  centuries  that  followed,  the  three  origina 
art  forms  were  supplemented  by  many  new  ones.  It  was  th( 
age  of  monasticism  and  cathedral  building,  and  each  of  these 
two  new  institutions  opened  new  art  opportunities.  The  es 
tablishment  of  monastic  libraries  led  to  the  art  of  illuminating 
manuscripts ;  while  the  building  of  cathedrals  involved  al 
sorts  of  decorations  in  stone,  bronze,  wood,  and  ivory,  as  wel 
as  extensive  mural  paintings,  mosaics,  and  stained  windows 
Through  all  these  vehicles  the  historic  life  of  Christ  was  mad< 
a  vivid  reality  to  the  people.  Certain  subjects  were  selectee 
to  form  in  chronological  sequence  a  complete  graphic  gospel. 

Every  province  of  Christendom  possessed  such  series,  anc 
thus,  even  in  a  time  of  dense  ignorance,  the  historic  basis  of  th( 
Christian  faith  was  indelibly  impressed  upon  the  popular  im 
agination.  The  study  of  these  mediaeval  serials  of  the  life  o1 
Christ  is  of  great  interest  and  importance,  not  only  as  a  pari 
of  the  history  of  art,  but  as  a  necessity  to  Biblical  scholarship 
"  No  man  can  in  any  large  sense  understand  the  Bible  itself,' 
says  Ruskin,  in  his  "  Bible  of  Amiens,''  "  until  he  has  learnec 
also  to  read  these  national  commentaries  upon  it,  and  has  beer 
made  aware  of  their  collective  weight." 

By  examining  the  lists  of  the  subjects  selected  we  learr 
what  were  the  vital  points  of  faith  to  the  mediaeval  Christian 
By  the  analysis  of  the  compositional  forms  employed  we  dis 
cover  what  was  to  the  mediaeval  mind  the  leading  significance 
in  each  particular  act  of  Our  Lord.  In  both  matters  the  stand 
ard  was  set  by  ecclesiastical  authority,  and  all  individual  vari 
ations  were  within  the  limits  of  this  standard.  This  point  h 
made  clear  in  the  decision  of  the  Second  Nicene  Council  ir 
787  :  ^'  It  is  not  the  invention  of  the  painter  which  creates 
the  picture,  but  an  inviolable  law,  a  tradition  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  It  is  not  the  painters,  but  the  holy  fathers  whc 
have  to  invent  and  to  dictate.  To  them  manifestly  belongs 
the  composition ;  to  the  painter,  only  the  execution." 

Hampering  as  these  restrictions  were  to  the  artistic  imagi 
nation  they  effected  precisely  the  result  intended,  namely,  i 
uniform   understanding  among  the  people  as  to  the  acts  o1 


Iba  medltfvu 

to  nil  diuuw*  n*  ipk>  )iriiiti-(l  wuhl  of  our  tivnx  tUy.      Il 

■r  aim),  lliut  th(^  K"i]>bii^  fcirni  of  the 

da  XI  dowty  tu  t)w  liU-rnrjr  form. 

jey  in  tbow  old  clayH  of  <)wi|ilirring 
ID  pry  Itioiiglit  r«c«ivcii  its  full  *harc 

Ou. 

now  monllon  somo  few  representative  exatnplM  of 
Uwvnl  art  MTii-s  illiMtmtivo  of  the  lifo  of  Chriat. 
I  frescowi  of  this  pcriml  wo  Iinve  very  iDcoinpl«t«  ii^ 
I,  BB  they  hiivi>  in  most  raw*  ctitinJy  i^iimppasred. 
«t  inonumontol  pAJiitirigs  i)rM<*rved  in  (Ictmnny  are 
to  tlio  dates  1184-yWl,  nn.l  aw.  in  li«  ('iiurrh  of  St. 
it  Obcrzoll,  on  tlio  islnnd  of  KeicL^iiuvi.  They  form 
7cr  tlio  arciiiicB  ot  tlio  luivc,  biiJ  rmpn-iitiiit  tlie  lainwlcs 
i>nl.  On  tho  sniitli  wall  are  :  TIk-  Raising  at  Lnxnrus ; 
ng  of  the  Dnughttir  of  Jalni* ;  tliu  Rjiieiiig  of  tiie  Son 
'idow  of  Nain ;  Healing  the  Woman  of  the  Iseue  of 
lleBQsing  the  Le]wr.  On  the  north  wall  are :  Coating 
Unclean  Spirit ;  Stilling  the  Tem|)eBt;  Henling  the 
Man;  Healing  the  Jinn  Iwrii  lilind.  Von  Rebcr 
BB  the  fact  that  this  work  is  singularly  free  from 
B  influence,  showing  no  traeea  of  the  rigid  conven- 
of  tho  Greek  corapositione. 

Hirch  at  Ingelheiui,  built  hy  Charlemagne,  vras  deco- 
h  frescoes  representing  the  New  Testament  History 

Annunciation  to  the  Resiirrection,  but  we  have  Bo 
'e  account  of  their  character. 

ithedral  at  Eruuswiok  was  also  very  profusely  deoo- 
:he  cboir,  transept,  and  cupola,  with  Romanesque  fres-  ' 
ih  are  supposed  to  have  been  executed  before  12S0, 

the  cupola  were  devoted  to  the  life  of  Christ  from 
rity  to  the  Day  of  Pentecost. 

I  church  at  Vicj  Prance  (Department  of  the  Indre  et 
ame  interesting  frescoes  still  remain  which  are  as- 
I  (ire   twelfth   century,  and    which  illustrate  various 

from  the  life  of  Our  Lord.  On  one  wall  are  three 
ompartments,  —  Christ  in  the  centre  of  the  upper  row, 
disciples  on  either  side  ;  while  the  lower  compositions 

the  Annunciation,  and  the  Adoration  of  the  Kings ; 
intation,  and  the  Descent  from  the  Cross.     On  another 


wall  we  have  the  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  and  the  Last  Judg- 
ment. The  colors  used  are  white,  red,  yellow,  and  black,  and, 
though  the  drawing  is  extremely  crude,  the  action  is  bold  and 
spirited. 

In  Italy  a  typical  example  of  mediaeval  frescoes  was  in  the 
series  of  St.  Urban  alia  Caffarella,  near  Rome.  The  following 
subjects  from  the  life  of  Christ  are  engraved  in  Seroux  d'Agin- 
court's  "  Histoire  de  1' Art  par  les  Monumens :  "  The  Magi 
seeing  the  Star ;  the  Magi  bringing  Gifts ;  the  Annunciation  : 
Flight  into  Egypt ;  Joseph's  Dream ;  Raising  of  Lazarus ;  Entrji 
into  Jerusalem ;  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet ;  the  Lasi 
Supper. 

A  more  durable  form  of  the  art  connected  with  churcli 
decoration  was  that  of  the  ornamental  bronze  doors  common 
in  the  mediaeval  period.  Some  of  these  were  entirely  covered 
v/ith  a  well-ordered  series  of  bas-reliefs  illustrative  of  sacred 
subjects.  Of  those  devoted  to  the  life  of  Christ,  a  notable  Ger- 
man example  is  the  door  of  the  Hildesheim  Cathedral  assignee 
to  the  date  1015.  In  Italy,  of  about  the  same  date,  is  th^ 
door  of  San  Zeno,  at  Verona,  while  that  of  the  Beneventc 
Cathedral  is  probably  the  work  of  the  early  twelfth  century. 

A  curious  and  entirely  unique  work  of  mediaeval  sculpture 
is  the  Gaeta  column  in  front  of  the  cathedral  at  Gaeta.  This 
is  a  marble  pillar  twenty  feet  high,  supported  on  the  backs  oi 
carved  lions.  All  four  sides  are  covered  with  bas-reliefs  o1 
sacred  subjects,  and  two  are  given  to  the  life  of  Our  Lord 
These  old  compositions  are  most  interesting  to  the  student 
Some  are  repetitions  of  familiar  forms,  but  others  are  more 
original,  and  to  a  certain  extent  foreshadow  the  work  of  Nic 
colo  Pisano  and  Giotto.  The  two  lists  of  subjects  are  aj 
follows  :  —  On  one  side :  Annunciation ;  Adoration  of  the 
Shepherds ;  Adoration  of  the  Kings ;  Presentation  ;  Baptism 
Last  Supper ;  Christ  at  the  Column ;  Resurrection  ;  Womer 
at  the  Tomb ;  Ascension  ;  Last  Judgment.  On  another  side 
Visitation  ;  Nativity  ;  Flight  into  Egypt ;  Massacre  of  the  Inno 
cents ;  Temptation ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem ;  Crucifixion ;  De 
scent  into  Limbus ;  Unbelief  of  Thomas ;  Resurrection  of  th( 
Dead ;  Last  Judgment. 

Mediaeval  sculpture  found  its  most  extensive  scope  in  th( 
elaborate  stone  carvings  with  which  Gothic  builders  decoratee 
the  exterior  of  churches,  above  the  principal  entrances,  some 


umes  even  extemling  over  the  whole  fa^e.  These  eeheiiMS  ol 
decoration  are  too  elaborate  for  analysis  here,  as  aoenca  from 
the  life  of  Chriat  are  intenninglcd  with  the  Uvea  of  the  Viigin 
and  aainta,  together  with  many  mystical  religioua  allegories. 

This  form  of  external  church  sculpture  is  peculiar  to  Gothic 
arty  and  is  coupled  with  another  decorative  art  featoie  which 
is  an  effective  contrast.  This  is  the  stained  glaae  window 
through  which  the  dim  religious  light  of  the  northern  cathedral 
is  broken  into  myriads  of  rich  colors.  The  designs  were 
drawn  from  all  sorts  of  sacred  story,  historical  and  allegorical, 
and  among  other  subjects  the  life  of  <  )ur  Lord  was  duly  repre- 
sented. A  twelfth  century  window  at  Chartres  is  filled  with 
compositions  of  this  kind,  including  the  following  subjects :  An- 
gel appearing  to  the  Shepherds ;  Magi  before  Herod ;  Annun- 
ciation ;  Visitiition  ;  Nativity ;  ] Presentation ;  Adoration  of  the 
Kings ;  Kings  warned  by  Angel  in  Dream  ;  Flight  into  E^pt ; 
Massacre  of  Innocents ;  l^ptism ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem. 

The  purposes  which  were  served  in  (lOthic  architecture  by 
the  stained  windows  were  served  in  Romanesque  architecture 
by  the  use  of  mosaics. 

Mosaics  were  introdncod,  it  is  believed,  as  early  as  the  fourth 
century,  and  we  have  already  referred  to  the  fine  sixth  century 
examples  in  S.  Apollinare  Niiovo,  Kavenna,  The  art  was  steadily 
continued  through  the  succeeding  centuries,  and  towards  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century  there  was  produced  in  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Monreale  a  series  illustrative  of  the  life  of  Christ, 
which  ranks  with  the  Eavenna  series  as  one  of  the  great  store- 
houses of  Christian  art.  So  complete  is  the  set  of  subjects 
treated  that  it  is  worth  while  to  set  down  the  entire  plan  as 
one  which  the  student  of  sacred  art  will  find  interesting  for 
constant  reference.  It  will  be  remarked  how  many  of  Our 
Lord's  miracles  of  healing  are  included  in  the  subjects,  —  inci- 
dents which  are  seldom  elsewhere  treated. 

Group  1.  Angel  appears  to  Zacharias  in  the  Temple ;  Peo- 
ple wonder  at  Zacharias'  Dumbness ;  Annunciation ;  Visita- 
tion ;  Angel  appearing  to  Joseph ;  Flight  into  Egypt. 

Group  2.  Dream  of  Joseph ;  Xativity ;  Bathing  of  Infant 
Jesus  ;  Shepherds ;  Presentation  ;  Christ  among  the  Doctors. 

Group  3.  Magi  seeing  Star ;  Magi  offering  Gifts ;  Herod 
ordering  the  Massacre ;  the  Massacre ;  Marriage  at  Cana ; 
Baptism. 


Group  4.  Temptation,  in  three  scenes. 

Group  5.  Woman  of  Samaria ;  Transfiguration ;  Raising  oi 
Lazarus;  Disciples  leading  Asses  to  Christ;  Christ  washing 
the  Disciples'  Feet ;  Agony  in  the  Garden ;  Betrayal. 

Group  6.  Healing  the  Paralytic ;  Healing  Blind  Man ;  En- 
try into  Jerusalem ;  Last  Supper ;  Christ  before  Pilate ;  De- 
nial of  Peter. 

Group  7.  Crucifixion  of  Peter ;  Healing  Daughter  of  Syro- 
Phcenician  Woman,  in  two  scenes. 

Group  8.  Healing  Man  possessed  of  Devil ;  Healing  Leper ; 
Healing  Man  with  Withered  Hand ;  Peter  walking  on  Water ; 
Raising  Son  of  Widow  of  Nain ;  Woman  with  Issue  of  Blood ; 
Raising  Daughter  of  Jairus ;  Healing  Peter's  Wife's  Mother. 

Group  9.  Pharisees  object  to  Christ's  Healing  on  Sabbath  ; 
Ten  Lepers  healed ;  Two  Blind  Men  healed ;  Money  Changers 
cast  out  of  Temple ;  Christ,  and  the  Woman  taken  in  Adul- 
tery ;  Healing  the  Paralytic ;  Blind  Man  healed ;  Magdalene 
anointing  Feet  of  Christ. 

Group  10.  Miracle  of  Loaves  and  Fishes ;  Miracle  of  De- 
crepit Woman  healed. 

Group  11.  Christ  healing  Nobleman's  Son,  in  two  scenes. 

Group  12.  Christ  at  Cross  ;  Crucifixion  ;  Tomb  of  Christ ; 
Christ  appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene ;  Unbelief  of  Thomas. 

Group  13.  Descent  from  Cross ;  Entombment ;  Resurrec- 
tion ;  Christ  appearing  to  Peter  ;  Christ  appearing  to  Disciples. 

The  last  form  of  mediaeval  art  which  we  have  to  consider  is 
the  illuminated  manuscript.  This  was  made  of  parchment,  on 
which  the  text  was  laboriously  transcribed  by  the  patient  hand 
of  the  monk,  in  elaborate  letters,  which  are  often  in  themselves 
highly  decorative,  while  in  addition  many  of  the  pages  are 
richly  ornamented  with  arabesques.  Inserted  in  these  decora- 
tive borders,  or  encircled  by  the  initial  letters,  are  tiny  pictures 
or  miniatures  illustrating  the  text.  These  are  usually  in 
bright  solid  colors,  richly  intermixed  with  overlaid  gold  leaf. 
Every  monastery  in  Europe  became  a  sort  of  manufactory  oi 
these  articles,  and  as  the  production  extended  over  a  period  oi 
some  ten  centuries  (fifth  to  fifteenth)  the  total  result  is  an 
enormous  amount  of  material,  immeasurably  exceeding  in  quan- 
tity any  other  kind  of  art  product  in  the  period. 

There  are  some  magnificent  specimens  in  the  ninth  and  tenth 
centuries,  of  which  the  following  are  particularly  noteworthy : 


[aoedonum    (nt.i-jyMi);  Iho  Mptiologium   iif   thm 
•»rv.  K  mar*      '    ncrvd   luJnndaT   nxf^ulMl   fur 

S),  uu\  ramUintng  four  hutulrad 
il  {[rautiil ;    Uie  ttMuxlictiotule  of 
•  of  Wiiii;he»l«  from  yt>;i  ki  IWI, 

lit:      ikpw  inianiu  tmfore  !>70.  Hud  cnntaining 

>icture«.     «.  ,n.>  titles  of  tUoiw  llinw  maniMcripts 
miniatures  1)i.  \  ..mininrpfcr  to  a  variety  of  MKivd. 

among  them  .<\-  many  scencfl  from  the  lifs  at 
re  oxclusivelv  ilivi-lcd  to  (Inr  Lori'ii  life  la  thlt 
lecripts  kno^tii  lu  (ioitpct  ftnoks. 
oUiuann  and  WocrmiMin  in  Ihelr  valuable  "  Hiotory 
r  to  three  Wiks  nf  this  kind,  dating  from  tlio 
HDanesque  ppriod  of  mintnturp  art,  extending  fruiii 
These  aw  the  (iosjwl  Book*  of  Uotlia,  Munich, 
lich  may  be  tnknn  ns  fnitly  rcpn-RontHtive  of  tnedi- 
iro  art  at  its  best.  These  three  books  taken 
tain  a  total  of  about  seventy  diiTereut  subjectR 
■■  of  Our  Lord,  of  which  twenty-two  are  conmon 
inciation;  >s'ntivity ;  Adoration  of  tbo  KinRfi : 
he  Innocents  ;  liitptiam  ;  Healing  Leper;  Healing 
ind ;  Hciiling  Woman  with  Issue  of  Blood  ;  Driv- 
la  ;  Miracle  of  Loaves  and  Fishes  j  Christ  asleep 
Tempest;  liaising  of  Lazarus;  Entry  into  JerU' 
yal;  Christ  before  Caiaphas;  Peter  denying  Christ; 

IJescent  from  Cross  ;  Entombment ;  Marys  at  the 

me  Tangere ;  Incredulity  of  Thomas. 

general  stitnmai'y  of  mediffival  Christian  art,  we 

upon  the  slight  Itasia  of  the  primitive  cycle  of 
■e  was  gradually  built  up  a  new  and  well-defined 
'(trations  of  the  life  of  Christ.  Most  of  the  art 
d  —  pat  ularly  the  illuminated  manuscripts  — 
f  a  e  y  extended  treatment,  so  that  we  have, 
th       Id  subjects,  an  entirely  different  order  of 

ly    th    e  centring  in  the  Lord's  Passion.     We 

that  tl   se  new  subjects,  rather  than  the  old,  are 

■0  tan       so  that  where  space  is  limited,  as  on  the 

th  y  1  avc  precedence  over  others,  and  that  thus 

n       ery  prominent,  as  the  Miracles  of  Heal- 

Mult  pi    ation  oi  Loaves,  are  entirely  sacrificed. 


ls  we    proceed   to    the  next  period  we  shall   find  that  the 
hanges  thus  inaugurated  move  steadily  on  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. 

The  Period  of  Modern  Painting 

At  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century  modern  painting, 
properly  so  called,  was  well  under  way,  so  that  we  may  date 
a  new  era  in  Christian  art  from  the  beginning  of  the  four- 
teenth. 

Mediaeval  influences,  both  religious  and  artistic,  were  not  to 
be  easily  outgrown,  but  a  new  spirit  of  liberty  invested  the 
old  traditional  forms  and  the  progress  of  technique  gave  them 
new  life.  The  period  opens  splendidly  with  Giotto's  great 
frescoes  of  the  Arena  Chapel,  at  Padua.  These  were  painted 
in  1306,  and  completely  cover  the  walls  and  vaulting  of  the 
interior,  constituting  one  of  the  greatest  existing  monuments  oi 
Christian  painting.  The  principal  compartments  are  ranged  in 
three  rows  on  the  two  long  sides  of  the  chapel,  the  upper  row 
being  devoted  to  the  life  of  the  Virgin,  and  the  remainder  to 
the  life  of  Christ  in  the  following  subjects :  Nativity  ;  Adora- 
tion of  the  Kings  ;  Presentation ;  Flight  into  Egypt ;  Massacre 
of  the  Innocents ;  Dispute  in  the  Temple ;  Baptism  ;  Marriage 
at  Cana  ;  Raising  of  Lazarus ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem ;  Casting 
out  Money  Changers ;  the  Bargain  of  Judas ;  Last  Supper : 
Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet ;  Kiss  of  Judas ;  Chrisi 
before  Caiaphas ;  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns  ;  Christ  bearing 
the  Cross  ;  Crucifixion  ;  Lamentation  over  the  Dead  Christ ; 
Christ  appearing  to  the  Magdalene ;  Ascension ;  Descent  oj 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

For  the  general  arrangement  of  his  compositions  Giotto  con 
fined  himself  for  the  most  part  to  Byzantine  tradition,  bul 
for  the  delineation  of  character  he  made  bold  to  go  direct  t( 
nature.  He  had  the  born  story-teller's  faculty  for  portraying 
an  incident  precisely  as  if  he  had  seen  it.  Within  the  limits 
of  imperfect  drawing,  his  figures  were  drawn  from  the  peoph 
about  him,  in  attitude  and  gesture  true  to  the  life.  Th( 
painter's  meagreness  of  setting  serves  rather  to  enhance  th( 
dramatic  reality  of  his  pictures ;  attention  is  concentrated  oi 
the  action,  and  the  chief  interest  is  in  the  story  that  is  told. 

At  Assisi,  also,  in  the  lower  church  of  S.  Francesco,  Giott( 
painted   some   scenes   from  the  infancy  of    Christ,  but  her* 


r  cimrco  wuioa  Mpnaeiil  titc  life  vt  ChriNt  an;  of 
utluirsl  e  oBl  of  lh«  (^i(;lit«eu  are  ol>1it«r- 

QioUo's  worlu  are  ttioM  uf  (]i« 
Hid    whoM    daiuagoil    freMoes    al 

0.  iirmiH.  ImuHt  tiotbing  i»  known.      Tliom 

I  pUcn  repmsi'iiv   bo  ]Ho  of  Our  Lon),  anil  the  list 

i«  (et  ilown  >ioro  im  nn  inlTrMting  ponillcl  nrith 
nctioti :  Aniiiincintinn ;  N'ntivity;  Adoration  of  tho 
cumcision;  Miwmuik  of  tho  Jtmnceiilii;  Flight  into 
rint  ninniig  tlin  Doclon* ;  Ibifiliiiiii :  Cull  of  Petor; 
'  Cnna ;  Tnninligiiratinn ;  RftiHin  Luzitrus ;  Eii- 
riifutlmn  I  Lnst  Siipiwr  ;  Kiirgilin  Jiidoit ;  Agnn^ 
d«n  ;  KJM  nf  Judan ;  ChrUt  m  m  Ilwloriutn  ; 
I ;  Olirist  moclcnd ;  Mn«tiiig  of  a  uuil  ]tIotli('r 
ring  the  Cross)  ;  Crucifixion. 

ly  of  the  period  will  be  made  more  complete  bj' 
ndth  these  Italian  setiea  mme  of  those  produced  in 
t.  There  was  one  such  in  the  twontj-aix  fre«coes 
'  monastery  of  S.  EmaiiR  6Tcroim')  conaectnted   in 

a  smaller  scale  is  n  series  by  some  niaahir  of  the 
lool  dating  about  1380,  and  conaisling  of  a  paiuting 
D  thirty-five  small  panels  in  ttin  liotlin  Gallery. 
ing  subjects  represent  scenes  from  Christ's  life : 
jn;  Visitation;  Journey  to  Botblchem;  Nativity) 
n;  Adoration  of  the  Magi;  Presentation;  Dispute 
lie ;  Baptism  ;  Preaching  in  the  Temple  ;  Entry  into 

Last  Supper;  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet} 
le  Garden;  Christ  advancing  to  meet  the  Soldiers; 
das ;  Christ  before  Annas  (?)  ;  Christ  before  Caift* 
it  before  Herod  (?)  ;  Flagellation  ;  Mocking  ;  Christ 
te ;  Christ  bearing  the  Cross ;  Christ  stripped  of 
t ;  Elevation  of  Cross  ;  t!rucifixion  ;  Descent  from 
osition;  Entombment;  Resurrection;  Ascension. 
7tk)'s  many  pupils  and  followers  a  single  serial  art 
f  the  life  of  Christ  has  come  down  to  us.  This  is 
anels  in  the  Florence  Academy  which  were  formerly 
'  presses  in  the  sacristy  of  S.  Croce.  The  following 
(  represented :  Visitation  ;  Nativity ;  Adoration  of 
esentation  ;   Christ  among  the  Doctors ;    Baptism  ; 


insfiguration ;    Last    Supper ;    Crucifixion  ;    Resurrection ; 

trist  appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene ;    Unbelief  of  Thomas. 

le  last  panel  of  the  set  is  the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
id  is  in  the  Berlin  Gallery  (attributed  to  Gaddi). 

Another  series  of  panels  in  the  Florence  Academy  were  also 
riginally  the  doors  of  presses.     These  are  the  thirty-five  small 
pictures  by  Era  Angelico  once  ornamenting  the  plate  cupboards 
of  SS.  Annunziata.     They  are  treated  after  the  charming  idyllic 
manner  of  this  unique  painter,  well  composed,  and  admirably 
adapted  to  their  original  decorative  purpose.     As  far  removed 
as  possible  from  Giotto's  great  story-telling  gift.  Era  Angelico's 
own  peculiar  sweetness  of  touch  makes  this  a  notable  series. 
Among  the  subjects  treated,  three  show  evidence  of  an  inferior 
hand :  The  Marriage  at  Cana ;  the  Baptism ;  and  the  Transfig- 
uration.    The  list  is  as  follows :  Vision  of  Ezekiel ;  Annun- 
ciation ;   Nativity  ;   Circumcision ;   Adoration   of    the  Kings 
Presentation  ;  Flight  into  Egypt ;  Massacre  of  the  Innocents 
Christ  among   the    Doctors ;    Baptism ;    Marriage    at  Cana 
Transfiguration ;  Raising  of  Lazarus ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem 
Bargain  of  Judas  ;  Last  Supper ;  Christ  washing  the  Disciples' 
Feet;   Institution  of  the  Eucharist;   Agony  in  the  Garden 
Betrayal ;  Capture  of  Jesus  ;    Mocking ;    Christ  before  Caia- 
phas ;  Flagellation ;  Journey  to  Calvary ;    Christ  stripped  of 
his  Garments ;  Crucifixion  ;  Deposition ;  Women  at  the  Tomb ; 
Christ  in  Limbus ;  Ascension  ;  Descent  of  Holy  Ghost ;  Coro- 
nation of  the  Virgin  ;  Golden  Candlestick  ;  Last  Judgment. 

Somewhere  nearly  contemporaneous  with  Era  Angelico's 
panels  is  the  bronze  gate  of  the  Florence  Baptistery  on  which 
Ghiberti  wrought  out  in  bas-relief  (1424)  the  life  of  Christ  in 
twenty  subjects.  Strong,  simple,  and  effective,  these  compo- 
sitions tell  the  sacred  story  with  forcible  directness.  There 
is  no  superfluity  of  figures  or  ornamentation,  but  the  groups 
are  well  balanced,  and  the  lines  are  simple  and  artistic.  The 
subjects  illustrated  are  as  follows  :  Annunciation  ;  Nativity  ; 
Adoration  of  the  Kings ;  Christ  among  the  Doctors  ;  Baptism  ; 
Temptation ;  Christ  driving  the  Money  Changers  from  the 
Temple ;  Apostles  with  Christ  on  the  Lake ;  Transfiguration ; 
Raising  of  Lazarus ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem ;  Last  Supper ; 
Agony  in  the  Garden ;  Betrayal ;  Flagellation ;  Christ  before 
Pilate  ;  Christ  bearing  the  Cross  ;  Crucifixion  ;  Resurrection ; 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 


liigelico  and  Ghiberti  were  active  in  Flormoe  in 
ive  of  the  life  of  Christ,  Jaoopo  Bellini,  the 
t  Venotiaii  school,  aildcd  some  contributions  to 
ch  undoubteflly  oxcrcised  a  great  influence  on 
A  series  of  fifteen  subjects  which  he  p^iwft^ 
1  Evangclista,  Venice,  have  entirely  disappeared. 
[useuin  contains  a  sketch-book  by  him  (dated 
MHisists  of  drawings  very  much  faded  but  still 
cmarknhlo  force  and  originality  with  which  this 

conccive<l  Scriptural  episodes.  A  number  of 
'oin  the  life  of  (hir  I^onl,  as  the  Presentation^ 
\doration  of  the  Kings,  the  baptism,  the  Mar- 

the  KaiHing  of  Ijazarus,  the  Flagellation,  and 

• 

of  tlio  fifteenth  century  the  spirit  of  the  Italian 
d  taken  possession  of  Italian  art,  and  in  the  rise 
cpartnicnts  of  painting  sacred  art  no  longer  held 
id  place  of  ])reen)inence.  The  life  of  Christ  as 
rt  series  declined  in  favor,  yet  we  are  not  left 
'ew  notable  examples  of  such  treatment,  even  at 
(I.  A  scries  of  this  kind  was  the  first  part  of 
coration  in  the  Sistine  (liapol,  several  painters 
ed  to  lionie  to  contribute  to  the  work,  which 
•escoes  on  the  side  walls.  The  pictures  natu- 
.  disadvantages  of  comparison  with  the  later  and 
by  Michael  Angelo ;  in  juxtaposition  with  the 
iling  frescoes  they  are  relatively  insignificant, 
utled  :  The  Nativity,  by  Perugino,  afterwards 
ake  room  for  the  Last  Judgment ;  the  Baptism, 
o ;  the  Temptation,  by  ]^otticelli ;  the  Call  of 
)y  Gliirlandajo ;  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  by 
. ;  the  Charge  to  Peter,  by  Perugino ;  Last  Sup- 
10  E-oselli ;  the  Eesurrection,  by  Ghirlandajo, 
rigo  Fiamingo. 

I  sixteenth  century  the  Cremona  (cathedral  was 
L  frescoes  by  various  painters,  chiefly  the  pupils 

The  pictures  have  sufi'ered  from  decay,  and 
L  seen  in  their  high  position  on  the  walls  of  a 

Their  excellence  varies  somewhat  with  the 
nter,  but  in  the  main  they  characterize  the  de- 
e  of  Cremonese  art  at  this  time.     The  following 


bjects  from  the  life  of  Christ  are  illustrated :  The  Nativity 

id  Circumcision,  by  Boccaccino ;  the  Adoration  of  the  Kings 

nd  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple,  by  Bembi ;  the  Flight  int( 

Cgypt,  and  the*  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  by  Altobello  de 

Melloni ;  Christ  among  the  Doctors,  by  Boccaccino ;  the  Las 

Supper,  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet,  the  Agony  in  th( 

Grarden,  the  Arrest  of  Jesus,  Christ  before  Herod,  all  by  Alto 

bello  de'  Melloni ;  Christ  before  Caiaphas,  and  Christ  bounc 

to  the  Column,  by  Cristoforo  Moretti;  Christ  crowned  witl 

Thorns,  and  Christ  presented  to  the  People,  by  Romanino 

Christ  led  to  Death,  Pilate  washing  his  Hands,  Christ  bearing 

the  Cross,  Christ  nailed  to  the  Cross,  and  the  Crucifixion,  al 

by  Pordenone ;  the  Resurrection,  by  Bernardino  Gatti. 

At  about  the  same  time  that  the  Cremona  Cathedral  was  ir 
process  of  decoration,  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  was  set  to  work  (1513^ 
upon  a  series  of  frescoes  in  the  Church  of  S.  Maria  delle  Grazie 
at  Varallo.  These  illustrate  twenty-one  scenes  from  the  life 
of  Christ,  and  while  some  of  the  compositions  show  the  ten 
dency  of  the  period  to  substitute  artistic  and  dramatic  effecl 
for  religious  earnestness,  there  are  a  few  conspicuous  subjectj 
which  are  worthy  contributions  to  Christian  art.  The  list  o: 
subjects  reads  as  follows  :  The  Annunciation ;  the  Nativity ;  the 
Adoration  of  the  Kings ;  the  Flight  into  Egypt ;  the  Baptism 
the  Eaising  of  Lazarus ;  the  Entry  into  Jerusalem  ;  the  Lasi 
Supper ;  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet ;  the  Agony  in  the 
Garden ;  Christ  taken  Captive ;  Christ  before  Caiaphas ;  Chrisi 
before  Pilate  ;  the  Flagellation ;  Pilate  washing  his  Hands 
the  Journey  to  Calvary ;  Christ  at  Calvary ;  the  Crucifixion 
the  Deposition ;  the  Descent  to  Limbus ;  the  Resurrection. 

In  connection  with  Varallo,  mention  should  be  made  of  { 
famous  resort  of  pilgrims  on  a  hill  outside  the  town,  callec 
the  Sacro  Monte.  This  was  founded  in  1486  by  a  Milanese 
nobleman,  Bernardino  Caloto,  and  consists  of  a  series  of  forty 
six  chapels,  through  which  the  pilgrim  passes  progressively 
from  the  Fall  of  Man  to  the  Entombment  of  the  Virgin,  the 
majority  of  the  subjects  being  devoted  to  the  life  of  Our  Lord 
The  subjects  are  represented  by  groups  of  life-size  terra-cottj 
statues,  arranged  in  tableau  compositions  against  a  frescoec 
background,  and  illustrating  the  scenes  with  startling  realism 

In  the  sixteenth  century  few  great  masters  devoted  to  th< 
life  of  Christ  the  extended  study  of  an  entire  series  of  sub 


I  iren  mIvcImI   for  aiiigl* 

nil  all  tile  fiml  artixtn  i>f  tito  [wriud  fiwiitnl  on«, 
lirF<--,  ur  mure  i>(  hmcIi.  wliuli  lu  luuujr  uuea  irora  Ui* 
orlu  tLiiy  L'vcr  {iroJucitl.  Ttiua  Com'ggio  in  tlia  \ortt, 
xio  ill  the  I'rcMutAtioii,  SvlBsUaii  ilel  PioailMi  tu  tbe 
(■  of  Ijuaraa,  Itapbael  in  tliu  TnuiBligunljon,  Lewnanla 
I  Lest  Supper,  Tilinii  in  IIk-  TribiiUt  Mont!)',  sud  Ven^ 
1  tho  Supp«r  at  Kiiimikus,  set  tha  record  of  their  bi|^kMt 
of  work  iijion  tlio  ^nitKl  uld  cyclu  of  Chmt  art. 
ihncl  ami  Tintoretto  nloni;  of  nil  tlin  (crciitor  pwoten  of 
^naisHBiicc  gionta  eut  their  huiuU  t^i  svriaU  of  Chria^a 
BajilinorH  Bttcmpt  was  iiit<:rni]itn]  by  1ii»  doatlt,  md 
ine  cartoous  wliich  wore  Imwd  ii]n>ii  hU  lint  rougfa 
ce  do  liitii  ui>  honor. 

Tintoretto  thuii  bt-longn  th«  ehjU  diHtiiictioii  of  n  groAt 
eiiient  of  this  kind  in  the  Cintfim  Oi-nto,  the  series  of 
:uola  Sail  K0C1.1J,  Venice,  fit  luuntcrimrt  of  the  vurk  of 
,  marking  tlie  cUuax  of  a  [)eriu>]  of  wliich  the  Arunn 
1  frescoes  were  tile  initiative.  The  cuntmst  liutwc«n 
two  great  art  nioiiumeDti^  is  full  uf  eiiggesliveness.  Kearly 
centuries  scjKkratc  them,  voiistitutin^  the  most  remarkiible 
riod  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Uiotto  liad  taken  the 
itep  towards  emancipation  from  By/^ntiue  models ;  Tin- 
D,  throwing  off  all  fetters,  puiut^  with  perfect  liberty  of 
nation  and  teptoduces  euch  subject  as  it  takes  shape  in 
>ru  mind,  I)elicutely  poetic  in  fancy  and  always  im- 
11s  in  e.tecution  ho  ap[)ears  to  have  duahed  off  every 
raition  upon  the  first  impulse  of  bis  inspiKition.  Tha 
of  the  Souola  San  Koimio  contain  some  seventy  sulgecta 
the  life  of  Christ,  the  life  of  San  Eocco,  with  a  number 
egorical  figures  and  cherub  heads,  most  of  them  painted 
1677. 

a  painter's  originality  is  seen  quite  as  much  in  the  eub- 
he  selected  as  in  his  method  of  treatment.  In  the  three 
;ies  preoediug  his  work  the  Passion  subjects  occupied 
irger  portiou  of  every  serial  treatment  of  Christ's  liie. 
i  Arena  Chapel,  Giotto  devotes  thirteen  out  of  twenty- 
subjects  to  the  Passion.  lu  the  panels  of  the  I'lorenoB 
imy,  Fra  Angelico  gives  twenty-two  out  of  thirty-five  io 
ime  class  of  subjects.  In  Gaudenzio  Feri'ari's  series  thtr 
)n  subjects  occupy  fifteen  out  of  the  twenty-one  frescueij.    ^ 


INTRODUCTION  10 

Tintoretto  entirely  revolted  from  this  precedent.  To  him 
fie  great  Passion  fact  was  sufficiently  set  forth  in  the  foui 
nain  subjects,  —  the  Agony  in  the  Garden,  the  Last  Supper. 
Jhrist  before  Pilate,  and  the  Crucifixion.  The  two  othei 
adjacent  paintings,  devoted  to  related  subjects,  the  Ecce  Home 
and  the  Cross  Bearing,  are  attributed  to  Titian.  For  the  rest 
Tintoretto  showed  admirable  insight  into  the  significance  oi 
Christ's  life  in  selecting  those  almost  entirely  neglected  sub- 
jects, the  Temptation,  the  Miracle  of  Loaves  and  Fishes,  and 
the  Healing  of  the  Lame  Man  at  Bethesda.  The  remaining 
subjects  of  the  set  are  the  Annunciation,  the  Adoration  oi 
the  Kings,  the  Flight  into  Egypt,  Massacre  of  the  Innocents, 
Circumcision,  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  the  Baptism,  the 
Raising  of  Lazarus,  and  the  Resurrection.  The  place  is  too 
dark  for  the  pictures  to  be  properly  seen,  and  they  are  on  the 
whole  deficient  in  the  splendid  qualities  of  color  so  peculiai 
to  Venetian  art.  But  the  original  spirit  in  which  they  are 
conceived  gives  them  a  unique  interest  above  that  of  any  othei 
series  devoted  to  the  life  of  Christ. 

In  our  own  century  the  art  serial  of  the  life  of  Christ  has 
assumed  the  form  of  the  illustrated  Bible.  A  few  notable  ex- 
amples should  be  mentioned  :  — 

By  Johann  Friedrich  Overbeck.  A  series  of  forty  cartoons 
designed  during  the  period  extending  from  1842  to  1853. 
engraved  and  published  in  1853-1854,  as  the  *^  Darstellunger 
aus  den  Evangelien ''  or  "  L'Evangile  Illustre."  In  these 
forty  compositions  we  find  the  spiritual  simplicity  of  Fk 
Angelico  united  with  the  superior  technique  of  a  more  advancec 
age.  The  early  Tuscans  were  the  object  of  Overbeck's  highesi 
admiration,  and  like  them  he  made  his  work  the  expression  oJ 
spiritual  ideas  rather  than  an  exhibition  of  artistic  excellence 
He  had  no  ambition  to  originate  new  compositions,  but  fol- 
lowed the  traditional  types. 

By  Gustave  Dore.  The  Bible,  illustrated  by  two  hundrec 
and  thirty  drawings.  First  published  in  1865  and  creating 
such  enthusiasm  that  three  other  editions  have  since  appeared 
Dore's  style  is  too  well  known  to  require  comment.  Some 
times  unexcelled  in  powerful  dramatic  effect,  it  too  ofter 
verges  upon  the  theatrical. 

By  Alexandre  Bida.  "  Les  Saints  Evangiles,"  published  ir 
1873.     The  text  of  the  four  Evangelists  is  given,  enriched  b^ 


ng  in  ntveKUo«,  and  Iiin  rtirut  tyjie  ia  reflued  a 
I  not  orer-stroDg.     Somu   of  lite  i-onipositioius 
luid  itit^riMtiiitj. 

IN  'i'isBoL     A  twriei  of  time   huDtlred  wtd 
iiul  a  great  numtNtrof  pvn  lirawingx,  which  occiti>iai 
Df  the  ortUt's  IaUt  (18tt6-l»!K*).     Sotno  of  tbM 
ilwl  in  I'nria  in  18114,  wiil  huvo  ain™  (IS97)    I 

in  tillitigmphg  uccoiiiiHinying  tho  tvxt  which   th*^ 
^hc  ninat  iiii]HirUinl  Iniiig  (ull-[Higa  plutus.      TUso^ 
i«e  wiM  to  rucunatrucl  I'ulcslino  in  thu  (.'hiistuw  t 
V  MB  JHrusulem  oiul  the  Juws  ils  they  were  know] 

Xaxarotli.  Hia  is  the  only  corics  evet  attempl 
arclueolt^icut  accunicy  of  dutuil.  Thu  couipositicM 
aly  pictunssque  aud  effective.  Thu  figure  of  Chrii 
rough  them  ia  not  the  coniniaudiiig    Frasenca 

sacrul  art,  but  simply  onu  uf  a  cuiujNiny  portmyet 
oriental  realism. 


L  Art  Treatment  uf  tub  Liff.  of 
TUB  Uaptist 

of  St.  John  the  Baptist  has  au  important  I 
}f  Out  Lord.     He  wits  the  Forcrunni^r  who  waa  t 
e'  way  for  the  Meaaiah,     The  miraculoua  i 
tndiug  hia  birth  aud  uamiug  are  circumstantifillf  n 
„  Luke  an  a  proper  introduction  to  the  narrfttivB  itf 
3.     We  next  hear  of  him  in  the  wilderuess  wlu 
as  lifted  in  a  call  to  repentance  and  baptisi 

recognition  of  Jeaua  as  the  Lamb  of  God,  and  f 

the  Saviour.     This  was  the  supreme  act  of  3 

.Ifillment  of  the  purpose  of  his  being.     From  tfaj 

,a  history  is  no  longer  closely  connected  with  1 

Hia  condemnation  of  Herod  and  Herodias  and  h 

imprisonment  aud  final  execution  are  events  witlji 

at  is  not  directly  concerned  except  to  send  a  Bigm& 

.ge  iu  reply    to  the    Baptist's  qfiestion  i 

P- 

B  a,  whole,  the  singularly  dramatic  career  of  this 

lightforward  man  has  a  diatiuctive  interest  which] 

ecognized  iu  art.     Series  of  representations,  contam»| 


g  all  the  incidents  from  his  life  mentioned  hy  the  Evangelists 

id  various  others  supplied  by  tradition,  are  very  common. 

he  forms  in  which  they  appear  are  as  varied  as  those  treating 

he  life  of  Our  Lord.     Some  of  the  most  prominent  will  be 

jnumerated  here  very  briefly  with  the  lists  of  subjects  they 

nclude.     A  few  of  these  subjects  are  selected  for  description 

n  the  following  pages  because  of  their  relation  to  our  main 

line  of  study. 

1.  A  series  of  twenty  bas-relief  panels  ornamenting  the 
bronze  (southern)  gate  of  the  Florence  Baptistery,  executed  by 
Andrea  Pisano  in  1330.  Admirable  in  simplicity  of  line  and 
purity  of  design.  Subjects  :  1.  Angel  appearing  to  Zacharias. 
2.  Zacharias  struck  Dumb.  3.  Visitation.  4.  Birth  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist.  5.  Naming  of  St.  John.  6.  St.  John 
departs  for  the  Wilderness.  7.  St.  John  preaches  to  Pharisees. 
8.  St.  John  preaches  to  People.  9.  St.  John  baptizes  in  Jor- 
dan. 10.  St.  John  baptizes  Christ.  11.  St.  John  reproves 
Herod.  12.  St.  John  led  to  Prison.  13.  St.  John  ques- 
tioned by  Jews.  14.  St.  John  announces  advent  of  Christ. 
15.  Daughter  of  Herodias  asks  for  St.  John's  Head.  16.  Be- 
heading of  St.  John.  17.  Herod  at  Supper  receives  St.  John's 
Head.  18.  Daughter  of  Herodias  carries  St.  John's  Head  to 
her  Mother.  19.  Disciples  obtain  St.  John's  Head.  20.  Dis- 
ciples bury  St.  John's  Body. 

2.  A  series  of  six  bas-relief  panels  decorating  the  font  of  the 
Siena  Cathedral,  the  joint  work  of  several  Tuscan  sculptors  of 
the  fifteenth  century.  1.  The  Call  of  Zacharias,  by  Giacomo 
della  Quercia.  2.  Birth  of  St.  John,  and  (3)  the  Preaching  of 
St.  John,  by  Turino  di  Sano  and  his  son  Giovanni.  4.  Bap- 
tism, and  (5)  Condemnation,  by  Ghiberti.  6.  Feast  of  Herod, 
by  Donatello.  The  last  three  of  these  panels  are  compositions 
of  strong  dramatic  power. 

3.  A  series  of  six  bas-relief  panels  in  enameled  terra-cotta 
in  the  Church  of  San  Leonardo,  Cerreto  Guidi,  1511,  from  the 
workshop  of  Giovanni  della  Robbia.  The  compositions  are 
apparently  imitated  from  Ghirlandajo's  frescoes,  and  treat :  An- 
gel appearing  to  Zacharias;  Birth  of  St.  John;  Naming  of  St. 
John  ;  St.  John  the  Baptist  as  Child ;  Baptism  ;  Beheading. 

4.  A  series  of  twelve  bas-relief  panels  ornamenting  the  solid 
silver  devant-autel  of  the  Florence  Baptistery,  enriched  with 
enamel  and   lapis  lazuli.     This  was  more  than  one  hundred 


n  malcing  an  t  ■.-.,    li.r  joinl 

chelouo  di    [: , n    i  .;iimi-u.  Tonioiuo  Finiguem,  Samtra 

lli,  Antonio  {'  ...  iih.iId,  Antonio  Sabi. 

t,  Miiei  of  ei;       .    iii[<artincnts  tniilptund  (n  liigli  raliel' 

wall  inc  e  clioir  in  the  catliedhil  at  Amj«iML 

liefs  are  p^^  d  gilt,  naA  wvre  niiulc  in  IKJI.    Sab- 

1.  St.  John  pninui  out  .Imus  to  tli«  Prajik.  2.  St. 
)reaching.  ;j.  Itapliem  of  Christ.  4.  St.  John  prramh- 
tpentanra.      5.  Captiirct  of   St.  .Tohn.      G.  Bao>iuct  oif 

and  Bequent  of  .Sntomp.  7.  Itohcflding  of  St.  John, 
quet  of  Heioil.  n-ith  St.  .lohu's  Head  on  Table.  BtUow 
teen  niedalljons  roprMcnling  l^nilnry  M«iies  in   Si,' 

life. 
\.  series  of  fredcofii"  by  (iiotto  in  the  1'  mti  Chapel  of  S. 

Florence.  Subjprtit ;  Angpl  npi<rniing  to  Znrhariaa;; 
)f  St.  John  tho  linptixt;  Nnitiing  of  St.  John  the  ~ 


•:^ 


le  Dance  of  .Snlomo ;  Bnlomi)  prewntiHg  St.  John'i 

»>■  .  M 

V  series  of  frcecoea  in  tho  Oratorio  delln  C'onfraterailb  d| 
vanni,  at  Urbino,  by  I^renKo  and  tiiacomo  da  San  Ser- 
a  141fi.  Thfi  work  in  impressive,  and  contains  intcrest- 
d  graceful  portraiL  hpads.  Suhjectti :  Angel  appearing 
larias ;  EirtSi  and  C'irenmciBion  of  St.  iFohii ;  Parting  rf 
from  Elizabeth  and  Zacharias;  St.  John  preaching; 
m  baptizing  ;   Baptism  of  Christ ;  St.  John  preachaa  to 

V.  series  of  frefcoes  in  tho  Baptistery  at  Castigltoiis 
a  (a  small  town  between  Saronno  and  A'aresej  near 
,  by  Masolino,  painted  1420-1437  at  order  of  Cardinal 
I  Castigliona.  The  works  aro  poor  in  composition,  bat 
xcellence  Ilea  in  the  careful  study  of  nature  they  exhibit, 
lly  in  the  character  of  the  heads.  Subjects:  Angel 
ing  to  Zacharias ;  Naming  of  St.  John ;  St.  John 
ing ;  Baptism ;  Salome  before  Herod ;  St.  John  in 
;  St.  John  brought  before  Herod  ;  Execution. 
V.  series  of  fTcscoes  hy  Ghirlandajo  in  S.  Maria  Novella, 
ce  (1490).  These  works  are  thoronghly  characteristic 
artist,  showing  at  once  his  best  qualities  and  his  moat 
g  defects.  Tlio  compositions  are  symraetrica!  and  well- 
1,  filled  with  portrait  figures  which  are  graceful  and  in- 
Qg.     The  colors  are  "  bricky  and  tawny  yellows, "     Sub- 


cts  :  Angel  appearing  to  Zacharias ;  Visitation  ;  Birth  of  St. 
ohn  the  Baptist;  the  Naming  of  St.. John  the  Baptist;  St. 
ohn  preaching ;  the  Baptism  of  Christ ;  the  Dance  of  Salome. 

10.  A  series  of  frescoes  by  Filippo  Lippi  in  the  choir  of  the 
Pieve  at  Prato.  They  were  painted  in  1456  as  a  companion 
subject  of  the  life  of  Stephen,  and  cover  the  lunette  and  lower 
courses  of  the  right  side.  Some  of  the  compositions  are  ad- 
mirable for  the  arrangement  and  distribution  of  figures  and  for 
harmony  of  line.  Subjects:  Birth  of  St.  John  the  Baptist; 
St.  John's  Departure  from  his  Parents ;  St.  John  preaching  ; 
Decapitation ;  Head  brought  to  Salome ;  Dance  of  Salome. 

11.  A  series  of  frescoes  in  the  cloisters  of  the  Scalzo  Mon- 
astery, Florence,  painted  in  grisaille,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto, 
1517-1526.  Competent  critics  pronounce  this  the  most  in- 
teresting series  of  frescoes  of  the  period  outside  the  Sistine 
Chapel  and  the  Vatican  Stanze.  The  painter  combines  certain 
of  the  best  characteristics  of  Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael, 
many  of  his  figures  possessing  both  force  and  beauty.  Sub- 
jects :  Faith ;  Annunciation  to  Zacharias ;  Visitation ;  Birth  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist ;  Departure  of  St.  John  from  his  Father's 
House,  by  Franciabigio ;  Meeting  of  St.  John  and  Jesus,  by 
Franciabigio  ;  Baptism,  by  Franciabigio  and  Andrea  del  Sarto  ; 
Charity ;  Justice ;  St.  John  preaching ;  St.  John  baptizing ; 
St.  John  made  Prisoner;  Dance  of  Herodias'  Daughter;  Be- 
heading of  St.  John ;  Bringing  St.  John's  Head  to  Herod ; 
Hope. 

12.  A  series  of  pictures  by  Andrea  Sacchi  in  the  baptistery 
of  the  Church  of  St.  John  Lateran,  Rome.  They  have  no 
remarkable  qualities  and  are  lacking  in  sentiment.  Subjects ; 
1.  Angel  appearing  to  Zacharias.  2.  Visitation.  3.  Birth  of 
St.  John  the  5^ptist.  4.  Rejoicing  over  the  Birth  of  the 
Baptist.  5.  Naming  of  St.  John.  6.  St.  John  preaching. 
7.  Baptism  of  Christ.  8.  The  Executioner  presenting  St. 
John's  Head  to  Salome. 


IE   PREPARATION    F<1R   OUR  LORD'S 
ADVENT 

.  The  Ankunoation-  to  Zaciiabub 

n  lh«  ilirnor  HptwI,  the  kihenl  .luiliT>B,  acrrtalii  prinl  tlamnl 
rhe  cnurw  of  AliiB  :  .aiiil  hi*  wifr  wii>  »(  Ihp  (Uuithtm  a$  Autin, 

VRA  EliHllfth. 

vcre  Iwlh  riKhtrciu*  lictorc  lii«I,  valkiiiK  in  >JI  tlii  cumnuuiil- 

linance*  of  Ihc  l^rd  lilnmclo*. 

ad  no  child,  Ixoause  Ibst  Klipwhvlh  wan  hamn,  atid  thej-  bath 

a  lo  paBK,  thnt  while  he  execulcil  tlir  iiriiuC*  ontm  Iwtnrn  God  In 

to  the  custom  of  the  prirM'n  nflli-e,  hin  Inl  wan  lo  Imni  incriiH 

-.  into  the  temple  of  Ihc  tjiTd. 

lole  mullilude  of  (he  people  y/tn  prnj'iiig  wlllimit  ut  thr  liiiic  uf 

appeared  unto  him  an  aiiftol  nt  tlie  Lnril  nlsnding  on  Itin  tight 


of  the  ,hildr™  of  Isriipl  .'ii.ill  he  tiini  to  (lie  Ur 

all  Ko  Iwforc  him  in  Ihe  spirit  ami  ]K.wi'r  of  I 

fatiivrn  to  the  ehildrpn,  iinil  tlir  disolH-ilieiit  (n  tl 

G  ready  a  people  prepared  for  Ihe  lyird. 

rias  said  unto  the  angel,  Whereby  hIioII  I  hni>v 

.nd  my  wife  well  Mriuken  in  years. 

igeX  anHwcring  !>aid  unto  him,  I  am  Galirii*!,  1 

od  ;  and  am  sent  to  speak  ttnlu  Ihee,  niid  In  she\ 


nis,  which 
led  in  Iheir  season, 
opie  waited  for  Zacharias,  and  nlar^■elied  that  he  tarried  sr>  long 

he  came  out,  he  could  not  speak  unto  them  :  and  tiiey  perceived 
seen  a  vision  in  the  temple  ;  for  he  beckoned  unto  them,  and 
echtesK.  —  Lukg  i.  6-32. 

he  philosophic  insight  of  the  true  historian,  St.  Luke 
leginning  of  the  life  of  Our  Lord  from  the  appear- 


ance  of  the  angel  Gabriel  to  Zacharias,  to  announce  the  birtl: 
of  St.  John  the  Baptist.  The  first  of  the  series  of  angelic  visita- 
tions which  prepared  the  way  of  the  Lord,  it  marks  the  initial 
movement  of  the  great  Christian  drama.  Some  four  hundred 
years  had  elapsed  since  Malachi  foretold  the  arising  of  the  Sue 
of  Righteousness  to  be  preceded  by  one  who  was  to  "  turn  the 
heart  of  the  fathers  to  the,  children,  and  the  heart  of  the  chil- 
dren to  their  fathers."  (Mai.  iv.  6.)  The  birth  of  this  one  is 
now  at  hand  (Luke  i.  17),  the  prophecy  is  to  be  fulfilled. 

From  the  nature  of  the  subject  the  Vision  of  Zacharias  is 
adapted  to  artistic  treatment  only  in  such  connections  as  make 
the  meaning  clear,  hence  it  occurs  chiefly  among  historical  arl 
series.  Perhaps  the  earliest  instance  of  its  appearance  is 
among  the  fifth  century  mosaics  of  S.  Maria  Maggiore,  at  Rome, 
where  it  is  placed  beside  the  Annunciation  to  the  Virgin. 

Next  may  be  mentioned  a  curious  example  on  the  old  doors 
of  the  grotto  sanctuary  of  St.  Michael,  Monte  Santangelo,  neai 
Manefredonia  in  Southern  Italy. ^  Here  some  mediaeval  sculp- 
tor wrought  in  bronze  relief  the  successive  incidents  in  H0I31 
Writ  when  angels  were  sent  to  earth  with  divine  messages,  the 
Annunciation  to  Zacharias  taking  its  due  place  among  them. 

The  subject  is  important  as  the  first  in  every  series  treating 
the  life  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  being  as  inevitable  in  this 
connection  as  is  the  Annunciation  to  the  Virgin  in  the  life  oi 
the  Virgin.  Both  belong  in  a  larger  sense  to  the  life  of  Oui 
Lord,  and  this  fact  was  recognized  by  the  old  designers  of  the 
Monreale  mosaics,  who  placed  them  among  the  introductor} 
subjects  of  Christ's  life. 

The  Gospel  narrative  fixes  definitely  the  setting  for  the 
Vision  of  Zacharias ;  the  scene  is  at  the  altar  of  the  temple 
This  is  represented  according  to  the  plan  of  the  Christiar 
church.  Zacharias  stands  at  one  side  of  the  table  swinging  i 
censer.  The  angel  approaches  from  the  opposite  side  to  delivei 
the  message,  with  hands  crossed  over  the  breast  (Andrea  de 
Sarto),  or  with  the  right  hand  raised  in  blessing  (Andrea  Pi 
sano),  or  pointing  heavenward  (Ghirlandajo).  As  the  pries* 
was  ofiiciating  in  the  Holy  of  Holies,  it  is  somewhat  disturbing 
to  the  modern  Christian's  sense  of  fitness  to  find   the  place 

1  The  bas-relief  compositions  on  these  doors  are  engraved  in  Quast's  editioi 
of  Denkmaeler  dtr  Knnst  des  Mittelalters  in  Unteritalien,  by  Heinrich  Wilheln 
Schulz,  Dresden,  1860. 


rith  witnemea  of  (lit)  mntn]  event. 
1  the  fUmusMnra  paint«r«,  U  m«t  n(>lW«t>la  willi 
o,  who  fllU  bis  pintiira  witli  two  )at>fi  mws  nf  liti 
«d  FktTontiiM  oontomponirira  eib-ndiiii;  from  tbe 
i«  fongronnil.  Thsjr  tnna  a  apUniliil  gallntj  nf 
lut  Uielr  iircMinw  i*  no  lr«  aa  intnuion.     Anilma 


Tile  Angel  niitxmri 


Delia  Robbia  with  the  Binipler  mtiti'f  of  the  sculp- 
he  scene  far  raore  Bolemn  by  giving  only  the  two 

t  of  expression  Giotto's  treatment  of  the  subject 
frescoes  of  the  PeniKni  Chapel  (S.  Croce,  Florence) 
leen  surpassed.     With  his  cliaracteristic  story-telling 

depicts  in  the  face  and  gcfituve  that  moment  when 
ipon''  the  troubled  priest  at  the  startling  apparitiou. 
that  Zacharins  reiiuiretl  of  the  angel  some  sign  of  his 
eems  never  to  have  impressed  any  artist  before  M, 
iot  the  modern  French  Biblaji  lustra  tor,  His  arch- 
lystic  floating  figursj  places  the  left  hand  on  the 
gue  to  command  dumbness. 

s  coming  out  of  the  Temple  is  made  the  subject  of 
composition  in  the  mosaics  of  Monrenle,  and  in  the 
meh  by  Andrea  Pieano  on  the  Florence  Baptistery 

also  one  of  the  subjects  in  the  embroideries  pre- 
he  Baptistery. 


II.    The  Annunciation  to  Mary  the  Virgin 

And  in  the  sixth  month  the  angel  Gabriel  was  sent  from  God  unto  a  city 
of  Galilee,  named  Nazareth. 

To  a  virgin  espoused  to  a  man  whose  name  was  Joseph,  of  the  house  oi 
David;  and  the  virgin's  name  was  Mary. 

And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her,  and  said,  Hail,  thou  that  art  highly  favoured, 
the  Lord  is  with  thee:  blessed  art  thou  among  women. 

And  when  she  saw  him,  she  was  troubled  at  his  saying,  and  cast  in  her  mind 
what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be. 

And  the  angel  said  unto  her.  Fear  not,  Mary;  for  thou  hast  found  favoui 
with  God. 

And,  behold,  thou  shalt  conceive  in  thy  womb,  and  bring  forth  a  son,  and 
shalt  call  his  name  JESUS. 

He  shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest:  and  the  Lord 
God  shall  give  unto  him  the  throne  of  his  father  David: 

And  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever;  and  of  his  kingdom 
there  shall  be  no  end. 

Then  said  Mary  unto  the  angel.  How  shall  this  be,  seeing  I  know  not  a 
man  ? 

And  the  angel  answered  and  said  unto  her,  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon 
thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee:  therefore  also  that 
holy  thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God. 

And  Mary  said,  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord;  be  it  unto  me  according 
to  thy  word.    And  the  angel  departed  from  her.  — Luke  i.  26-38. 

The  Annunciation  to  Mary  followed  soon  after  the  Vision 
of  Zach arias.  To  her,  too,  the  archangel  Gabriel  was  sent  as 
the  messenger  of  the  divine  revelation.  Their  mysterious  in- 
terview has  been  one  of  the  favorite  subjects  of  Christendom. 
Appearing  first,  though  not  frequently,  among  the  sculptures 
and  mosaics  of  the  early  centuries,  it  grew  steadily  in  popu- 
larity in  miniatures,  frescoes,  altar-pieces,  in  the  serial  treat- 
ment of  the  lives  of  the  Virgin  and  our  Lord,  and  in  separate 
compositions.  In  our  own  day  it  still  holds  its  own  as  one 
of  the  most  frequently  chosen  among  the  sacred  art  subjects, 
and  appears  among  the  pictures  of  almost  every  art  exhibition, 

The  elements  of  the  composition  remain  the  same  through- 
out the  centuries,  consisting  simply  of  two  figures  opposite 
each  other.  In  the  great  majority  of  cases  the  Virgin  is  at 
the  right  and  the  angel  enters  at  the  left.  Exceptions  tc 
this  arrangement  are,  however,  by  no  means  hard  to  find,  espe- 
cially in  northern  art,  as  in  the  Cologne  Cathedral  dombildj 
and  in  works  by  unknown  masters  in  the  Louvre  and  Berlin 
Gallery.    In  the  seventeenth  century  Rubens  and  Murillo  both 


h«  ftganm  rimI  Inter  itr^l^^^m^Hl^^li^^ 
liberty.     OthiT  cttre*  an  notod  In  the  niooaeding 

I  of  M>  irilii|>Ui  a  ba>w  tor  tlia  oompoBltJon  Iben  im 
tlniiulant  variety  iu  wetting  tuid  deUila,  in  Kttitudo 
>,  Mimy  of  IbeM  matten  won  BUj^gMtad  by  legends. 
Moii  t'xplaiiw  in  tlw  "  Lei^nds  of  the  Madonna " 
ivt  the  Frot«vango|{oD  of  St.  .lantcH  occountB  for  tlra 
hotce  of  a  court  for  the  backgratind,  aa  well  as  for 
■  symboU  of  the  Virtfin's  oMDpation,  the  dutiiff  and 
\*  St.  Itemard's  "  I'orfect  Legend  "  is  respotwblo 
nting  the  Virgin  rd  reading  from  tbo  Scrifitiircs,  a 

which  has  been  widely  adopted.  Somotiines  she 
h  her  book  open  upon  the  j>rir-ili«ii ;  cninetiinDe 
th  it  resting  on  bor  lap  or  stands  holding  it  cIowkI 

hand. 

;el  may  be  standing  or  knoKling  or  flying  in  roid-air. 
'  ap[ienrB  as  having  jusl  arrived  and  in  haste.  He 
^and  or  sceptre  as  thn  attribute  of  a  herald,  a  scroll 
MtsHador's  lueast^,  a  branch  of  olive  an  a  token  of 

lily  Rtiilk  118  a  tri^.utt^  to  the  Viryin's  piivity.  His 
ind  liy  a  jcwided  tinra,  a  t!inij>[o  (iffct,  a  wreath  of 
rland  of  llowers,  or  is  ornamented  by  a  tiny,  tong:ue- 
Thc  tiara  belongs  to  early  art,  both  (rerman  and 
e  olive  wreath  to  the  Sienese,  and  the  flowers  and 
he  Florentines.  Filippo  Lippi  has  several  times 
le  Annunciation,'  and  his  characteristic  ligure  of 
:ars  a  charming  garland  of  flowers  on  his  fair  ring- 
I  flame-touched  brow  belongs  to  the  two  monk  paint- 
;o  Monaco  and  Fra  Angelico. 

et  is  seen  in  the  lovely  Annunciation  by  Tiartolom- 
e  Villa  Ferati  di  San  Marco,  and  in  the  altar-piece 
ig,  in  the  Lubeck  Cathedral,  Many  pictures  show 
s  hair  unbound  and  unadorned.  In  a  few  rare  in- 
1  angel  has  no  wings,  as  in  the  bas-relief  by  John  of  ■ 
n  the  door  of  the  Pisa  Cathedral.      This  concep- 

rd  Burne-Jones  ha;  reviyedlhiB  legend  in  the  Anniincirition  among 
eeoralions  of  St.  Paul's  American  Episonpal  Churtli  at  Rome, 
ures  are  in  the  Nation*!  GalUrv,  London,  in  the  Pinscoteca  at 
Ihe  Doria  at  Rome,  in  the  Academy  at  Florence,  in  the  Church 
izo,  Florence,  and  in  a  private  collection  at  Rome. 


1  was  adopted   by  Eossetti  in  his   famous  Ecce  j 

mini. 

In  general  treatment  the  German  Annunciation  is  fa 

iborate  than  the  Italian.     The  background  is  usually  a 

irnished  bedroom,  with  fine  Gothic  windows  and  tilec 

Jhe  draperies  of  both  figures  are  voluminous  and  heavy. 

Italian  Annunciation  is  more  often  seen  in  an  open  co 

loggia,  and  the  treatment  of  draperies  is  much  simpler. 

Both  German  and  Italian  art,  ancient  and  modern, 
use  of  the  sacred  symbol  of  the  dove  as  the  embodin 
the  Holy  Ghost,  though  this  rule,  like  all  others,  is  not  "w 
exception. 

Properly  understood,  the  subject  of  the  Annunciatior 
tensely  dramatic.  Untold  ages  of  divine  love  lie  behi 
angel's  message ;  untold  ages  of  human  joy  reach  beyoi 
Virgin's  answer;  the  destiny  of  the  race  hinges  upo 
moment  of  history.  Thus  the  highest  point  of  interest 
Virgin's  reception  of  the  message,  and  the  religious  signi 
of  the  picture  is  gauged  by  the  artist's  comprehension  i 
fact.  In  general  this  was  better  understood  in  northt 
than  in  Italy,  though  there  are  not  lacking  Italian  p 
worthy  of  the  theme.  Many  artists  have  laid  the  en 
upon  the  fact  that  Mary  was  "  troubled,"  and  "  cast 
mind  what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be." 
have  indicated  by  some  appropriate  gesture  her  wor 
question,  "  How  shall  this  be  ?  "  The  more  seriously  i 
have  sought  to  express  her  humility,  "Be  it  unto  me  i 
ing  to  thy  word."  Too  many,  unfortunately,  have  not 
any  sympathetic  understanding  of  Mary's  mood,  but 
simply  given  us  a  pretty  young  woman  and  a  pretty 
angel  bowing  and  smiling  politely  to  each  other  acre 
canvas.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  any  enumeration  o 
works.  Let  us  consider  only  a  few  examples  of  th 
types. 

Ghiberti's  panel  on  the  Baptistery  gate  (Florence)  p 
the  troubled  aspect  of  Mary's  experience  very  vividly, 
falls  back  affrighted  at  the  vision,  raising  her  arm  almoi 
to  ward  off  a  blow.  Van  Eyck,  Roger  van  der  Weydt 
the  painter  of  the  Cologne  dombild  all  chose  the  m 
surprise,  showing  the  Virgin  turning  from  her  kneeling  ] 
at  the  prie'dieUf  her  hand  raised  with  an  air  of  mild  as 


iinil  iU  IwKt  t^xjirfMii^ii  in  bU  faviiriU  iiubj«ct  o(  t 
intion,  niid  always  lif  iimltdn  it  Uiu  ocmaiMi  for  hit 
ind  rnont  jnyoiis  niiguli^  unO  fur  liit  mtmt  ttmid  lod 
Virgin.  The  Ixtst  GX*ni|>lo  i*  ]icrha|Hi  tbe  freaco  on  tlw 
wall  at  Hnii  Mrtrcii,  KlurunM;,  (i[i[HMiU)  the  otair  ImmI- 
Keooiiil  in  n  frtvci]  in  dik-  nf  tlit;  couvbiit  cdU,  and  ■ 
Ml  eoool  ]iictuni  in  Ntfll  nuutbur  cull.  Tlie  church  of 
Cortoiia  al«u  cutiUiiu  o  lurely  Atuiuiu^tatiou  b>-  An* 
There  in  little  vorintiou  in  nil  tlieu)  upon  th«  aiutjlc 
QU  which  iHWHCweil  the  iwinter'x  imufjinatiou.  The 
is  the  convent  ImjijiU;  with  u  ({liiii|)Bi]  of  the  garden 
»urt.  The  M\ga\  HtauJn  ur  kneuli^  at  tbn  left,  hiii 
face  aglow  with  pure  hainiiiiumi.  The  Virgin  is  a 
girl,  timid  and  uhrinking,  receiving  her  visitur  with 
hildish  dignity  she  can  Biuunion,  and  bowing  himiLly 
tance  Qf  the  message,  with  her  hands  croasud  ujioti  lier 

m  del  Sarto's  iminting  in  the  I'itti,  Floruiicu,  is  an 
(ig  variation  U|wn  the  ordinary  coU)iK>9ition,  being  an 

scene,  with  the  \''irgiii  standing  at  the  left.  She  is 
lajestic  poae  of  an  antique  statue,  wearing  her  strong 
sauty  with  the  conlidence  of  mature  womanhood.  It 
e  hard  to  imagine  a  figure  in  greater  contrast  to  the 
maiden  of  Fra  Angelico.  The  Annunciatiou  in  the 
i'lorence,  attributed  to  Botticelli,  carries  the  peculiar 
'  that  painter's  unique  individuality.  A.&  in  all  the 
ipired  by  him,  the  chief  churm  of  the  picture  is  as  an 
111  of  the  poetry  of  motion.     The  attitude  of  the  angel 

Gtory  of  his  rapid  flight  and  sudden  entrance.  The 
if  the  Virgin  as  she  turns  from  her  prayer  is  full  of 
d  significance.  Surprise  and  humility  are  blended  in 
ade,  and  her  face  is  full  of  solemn  awe. 
1  be  seen  that  all  these  old  masters  followed  the  cub- 
heir  predecessors  in  the  mechanical  literalness  of  their 
tations.  To  them  the  angelic  visitation  was  a  matter- 
iality  to  be  treated  precisely  like  the  visit  of  any  mes- 

With  rare  divination  the  Bergamesque  painter,  Lo- 
itto,  sets  the  event  on  quite  a  different  plane.  In  his 
ion  the  augel  enters  at  the  right  in  the  rear,  and  the 
niuches  in  the  foreground  at  the  left,  looking  directly 


to  the  Virgin  (School  of  Botticelli) 


out  of  the  picture  and  not  at  all  at  the  messenger.  Thus  his 
presence  is  felt  rather  than  seen  by  her ;  it  is  the  message  it- 
self which  overwhelms  her,  and  not  the  bearer  thereof.  His 
figure  seems  introduced  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  the  spectator, 
as  an  external  symbol  to  account  for  the  Vii^iii's  emotion. 
Her  bands  are  thrown  up  like  those  of  an  orante  in  the 
ancient  attitude  of  prayer ;  her  face  is  illumined  by  the  vision- 
ary smile  of  a  mystic.  The  picture  is  iu  the  Church  of  S, 
Maria  sopca  Mercanti,  at  Becanati. 

Lotto's  conception  was  far  in  advance  of  his  time,  and  wa? 
never  fully  worked  out  until  modern  pre-Eaphaeiitism  laid 
hold  of  the  same  idea.  Both  Kossetti  and  Sir  Edward  liurne- 
Jones  have  expressed  the  same  underlying  thought  in  theit 
version  of  the  Annunciation.  With  them  the  message  is 
spoken  directly  to  the  Virgin's  soul.      In   Rossetti's   picture 


Cialler;^,  Lor )  it  comes  w  in  t  li 

cr  cnucli  Htariog  wiBtfiilly  into  ■(•<»,  her  Hweut,  ' 
lUc  with  perplexity.     Tlio  ongol  EUnda  in  front 
bo  MUS  him  Dot  with  Uio  «yu  of  Mnse,  stHtorbeil  iu 
I  prcMDl   to  he    iinagiD&tinn.     Sir  Edward  Bumo- 

a  loM  ucatic  idi  kl  at  tho  Yirpii ;  ho  ptinta  her  am  a 
(  girl  *liiiulitig  lit  u  cntirt.  'I'hc  ungol  hovers  ov«r 
il  u{>nn  tho  Inniiclicii  of  n  bay-tree.  She  does  not  we 
iihe  liniK  t)in  Vtiice  and  in  ■iiiittcn  ivith  woitder. 
hi  thu  only  otlier  n.-<.'eiit  jnintur  who  liu  shown  any 
r  in  luinJling  the  Lhvum.  Hin  piiiture  is  ono  of  the 
r&ler-color  illuutnitioiiM  ot  the  life  of  Christ.  The 
B  been  Hulecp  on  lier  rug  and  Iios  risen  to  a  sitting 
ritli  lieud  bowed  humbly  In-fore  tlie  Viaiou.  The 
eitaut  ia  a  curious  myiitic  il^ur«  in  mid-air,  similar  to 
e  Ilreoui  of  iTuHcpb  prcEwnlty  to  be  described. 
sit  of  Mary  to  KliubetL,  foUuwitig  iminediat«ly  u]>on 
nciation,  is  au  iuiportaut  art  siiliioLt  lieloiigiiig  specLsUy 
B  of  the  Virgin.  It  in  fully  tiuated  iu  Mn.  Jonte- 
egeiids  of  the  JImlonna." 


III.   TiiE  Annunciation  to  Joseph 

rpli  her  husbaiK),  Iwiti);  s  ju!-C  niiiti,  and  not  vfilliiig  to  make  bet  ■ 
iple,  wa!<  minded  Iu  put  her  sway  jirivily. 

he  tIiou);ht  iiii  tlivw  Ihiiigs,  Li:h(>ld,  lln^  aiiKi-'l  oE  the  Lord  appeared 
I  a  druaiii,  nnying,  Jusepli,  th'iu  son  iif  David,  fi'ar  not  to  take 
ary  tliy  wife:"  fur  tliat  wliicli  is  cmui^iitd  in  licr  is  of  the  Holy 

-hall  bring  fonli  a  xon,  and  lliou  ahalt  call  hii'  iiaiiie  JESUS:  for  he 


irgin  Mary  having  heard  and  accepted  the  royal  mes- 
ingel  of  the  Lord  now  appears  to  Joseph,  hur  espoused 

in  a  dream,  explaining  the  divine  character  of  the 
ixperience,  revealing  the  sacred  mission  of  the  com- 
1  and  committing  the  mother  to  his  guardianship, 
;ly  realize,  I  think,  the  importance  of  this  Annuncia- 

its  bearing  upon  the  life  of  our  Lord.  It  was,  in 
lecessary  complement    of    the    Annunciation    to    the 


(Raphnel  Meiig<) 


gin,  in  order  that  the  good  man  in  whose  keeping  the  holy 
Id  was  to  be  placed  should  have  the  same  assurance  of  his 
ine  origin   as  did  the  mother.      Art  has,    however,  made 


very  little  of  th<.*  event,  doubtleM  becauae  Joaeph's  aeoon 
aiigirlic  vihitatioii,  when  warniHl  to  take  flight  into  Egypt,  ha 
completely  overrihadowetl  the  first  with  its  larger  pictorial  poc 
sibilities. 

I  liave  found  in  early  art  a  single  repreaentation  of  the  even 
on  a  carved  lx)x  whoM  ornamentations  are  reproduced  ii 
Garrucci*8  *'  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana.''  Joseph  lies  with  hi 
liead  8U|)|K)rtcd  on  his  right  hand,  the  left  thrown  over  hi 
head.  An  angol  with  large  wingK  stands  at  his  feet,  raising  th 
right  hand  with  linger  extendi.  The  subject  is  identifiei 
here  as  the  first  Dream  of  Joseph  from  its  position  juat  pre 
ceding  the  Visitati(»n.  On  the  sculptured  facade  of  Amien 
Cathedral  is  a  group  wliich  Ruskin  has  taken  for  the  aami 
subject  in  his  '*  Hiblc  of  Amiens."  It  also  occurs  among  th< 
mosaics  of  tlic  Monrealc  C'athodral.  For  other  early  example 
we  must  search  illuminated  manuscripts,  'the  Gtospel  Bool 
of  Trier  contains  sucli  an  one. 

From  tlicse  we  must  pass  over  tlie  centuries  to  Murillo 
among  whose  works  was  a  small  painting  representing  Joaepi 
lying  asleep  on  a  bank  while  an  angel  whispers  in  his  ear. 

AVitli  Kaphael  !Mongs  the  SHbjcct  seems  to  have  been  a  fa 
vorite,  as  lie  ])ainted  it  several  times.  Tlie  l^elvedere  Gallery 
Vienna,  and  the  Dresden  Gallery  both  contain  such  pictures 
Tlie  scene  is  the  carpenter's  shop,  in  which  Joseph  is  seated  ai 
his  bench  deep  in  sleep,  while  tlie  angel  brings  the  message 
In  the  Dresden  picture,  the  carpenter's  face  is  lifted  in  the  aci 
of  listening,  while  the  messenger,  floating  gracefully  on  a  clouc 
just  above  and  behind  him,  points  directly  heavenward  to  em 
pliasize  the  assurance  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  the  source  of  th( 
immaculate  conception. 

In  Bida's  illustrations  of  the  Evangelists  the  subject  ij 
treated  very  poetically.  Joseph  lies  asleep  on  a  long  couci 
with  the  angel  figure  extending  lengthwise  across  the  pictun 
hovering  just  above  the  couch. 

In  Tissot's  "  Illustrated  Life  of  Christ "  we  have  an  inter 
pretation  of  Joseph's  Dream  from  the  standpoint  of  a  studem 
of  Jewish  traditions  and  customs.  Joseph  is  lying  on  a  ru^ 
in  oriental  fashion,  and  is  just  starting  up,  his  hands  raised  ii 
surprise,  as  the  vision  appears  to  him.  This  vision  takes 
form  from  the  descriptions  which  would  be  most  familiar  to  th( 
reader  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures.     Six  overlapping  wings,  pinl 


;ipped,  form  the  chief  substance  of  the  angePs  body,  as  in  the 
seraphim  of  Isaiah's  vision.  A  face  gleams  from  the  centre  oi 
the  whirl  of  yellow  light  which  veils  the  whole  figure.  In 
dim  outline  one  sees  two  tiny  hands  pointing  up.  That  all 
this  is  in  a  dream  we  may  know  from  the  fact  that  Joseph 
does  not  look  up  at  the  angel,  but  takes  rather  the  attitude  of 
one  listening. 

Closely  connected  with  Joseph's  Dream,  and  an  imaginary 
sequel  thereto,  is  a  subject  which  received  some  attention  in 
early  art  and  which  for  lacl^  of  a  better  title  I  may  call 
Joseph's  Formal  Recognition  of  the  Virgin's  Purity.  I  have 
seen  some  curious  examples  in  ancient  bas-reliefs.  One  of 
these  on  a  carved  book  cover  shows  the  two  figures  vis-a-vis, 
Joseph  raising  his  hand  in  benediction.  In  another  on  the 
carved  cattedra  (or  bishop's  chair)  of  Maximian,  Ravenna,  an 
angel  stands  behind  the  Virgin  as  witness  of  the  scene.  In 
the  Berlin  Gallery  is  a  quaint  picture  by  an  unknown  master 
of  the  fourteenth  century.  The  catalogue  describes  it  in  these 
words :  '^  Under  a  Gothic  canopy-like  structure,  from  the 
gable  of  which  hangs  a  lamp,  sit  Joseph  and  Mary  on  a  bench, 
at  the  left  Joseph,  a  staff  in  his  hand.  He  begs  Mary's  pardon 
for  his  distrust,  now  that  an  angel  who  appeared  to  him  in  a 
dream  has  shown  him  that  the  child  which  Mary  is  to  bear  is 
the  Saviour  and  springs  from  the  Holy  Ghost.  On  each  side 
is  a  musical  angel." 

IV.    The  Birth  of  St.  John  the  Baptist 

Now  Elisabeth's  full  time  came  that  she  should  be  delivered;  and  she 
brought  forth  a  son.       * 

And  her  neighbours  and  her  cousins  heard  how  the  Lord  had  shewed  great 
mercy  upon  her  ;  and  they  rejoiced  with  her.  —  Luke  i.  57,  58. 

The  Birth  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  is  naturally  a  prominent 
art  subject  in  every  serial  treatment  of  the  forerunner's  life,  and 
is  also  not  infrequent  as  a  separate  composition.  It  is  a  cham- 
ber interior  with  the  mother  lying  on  the  bed  surrounded  by 
various  attendants,  while  the  babe  is  in  the  hands  of  some 
maids  in  the  foreground,  who  bathe  him  (as  in  Filippo  Lippi's 
fresco),  or  feed  him  (as  in  Ghirlandajo's  picture). 

The  type  of  Elizabeth  is  as  distinctly  fixed  in  art  as  is  thai 
of  the  Virgin,  and  in  direct  contrast  to  the  latter.     She  is  a 


I  iMsl  mid<IIc  with  Urgf,  well-bnilt  figtm,  a  Btroncj 

tnn«ctiliiie  Incr,  i  vBrtltj'  in  lint  And  Rumnl  vith  WTi»>'^ 
Stie  lic«  or  i>il4  on  hrr  bott  with  a  atAtoljr  dtgni^. 
I  Pimna  Li  almont  tlin  only  artUt  i*li»  give>  b*r  »aj  i 
of  mothorlitM  H«  «bqw»  hor  nui^g  the  coverlid  toj 
t  hor  bklic,  wL       m  in  llw  bentl  of  Imr  onn.  j 

Viljoicing  oi  "tno  Deighbon  uitil  cuvmiuii"  with  thm] 
inolhiir  i«  by  ■omc  artiitU  inud«  tUs  ow-OMion  o(  mldii^  | 
i  oxtrn  [Kinioiiagiti  t(i  thfl  >c«ne.  (Ibirluiid^o  aeizwl  Dm  1 
unity  to  intriMlucv  u  numVr  of  portrait  Qguna  m  guest*  I 
grutiiliktioD,  uniouK  them  the  faiuoiu  Florcutliw  beau^t  i 
ra    Benci.       (Surii's    uf    freacooa  in    K.  Bilaria    Kovel^ 

«,.)  , 

iti frequently,  by  u  ha\i\ty  strt'tfti  of  the  artist's  iotagin** 
le  guest  of  honor  is  tlit  Virnia  Mary  nersplf,  who  is  sup^ 
to  have  prolouged  her  vieit  with  her  cousin  nntil   thii 

If  she  is  present,  it  u  to  her  naturally  that  ths  privi- 
ills  of  preaeiitiiig  the  babe  to  Iiia  father.  A  particularly 
ting  example  is  the  fresco  at  Uibino,  by  one  of  the  Sag 
ao  family,  where  the  Virgin,  standing  in  the  oeatf^B 
lund,  hblds  the  tiny  swaddled  Ijhbo  with  pretty  tendei^ 
reesiiig  her  face  to  his,  as  she  so  often  docs  to  the  Christ 

m  there  is  nothing  in  the  picture  to  identify  the  nauMs 

characters,  this  fact  being  eullicieutly  clear  from  tha  posi- 

'  the  subject  in  a  sariea.     In  other  cases,  as  in  the  works 

Irea  del  Sarto  and  Filippo  Lippi,  the   subject  ia  niada 

akable  by  the  figure  of  Zacharias  seated  at  the  head  or 

foot  of  the  bed,  writing  on  his  tablet. 

ioiae  compositions,  as  in  that  of  Filippo  Lippi  in  tho 

series,  there  is  a  vista  of  apartments,  in  one  of  which  (at 

ir)  is  the  Birth  scene,  and  in  another  (in  front)  Zacharias 

J  liis  son. 

ery  beautiful  illustiation  is  in  the  Berlin  triptych,  by 

van  det  Weyden.     Every  detail  ia  ho  exquisitely  fia- 

ihat  we  look  from  the  carved  archway  in  the  foreground 

h   the  entire   length  of  the  house.     In  the  first  large 

ies  Elizabeth,  waited  upon  by  a  single  attendant.     Under 

;h  sits  Zacharias,  whom  the  Virgin  approaches  with  the 

Baptist. 

s    picture  seems  to  be  a  typical   Teutonic  treatment  of 


'flic  Uirlli'if  St..Tul 


tlio  Mibji^ct,  for  wft  find  it  vety  simiUrly  nndand  in  Vai 
Nof^nra  window  in  St.  •Fan*rt  Kerk  at  Goiulfty  ezoept  thai 
here  Zacharias  is  in  a  n*ar  a|Nkrtment  instead  of  in  the  fore- 
ground, tho  change  of  |K>8ition  changing  the  relative  impor 
iancc  of  the  two  incidents. 

A  Dutch  |)ainting  of  thn  seventeenth  century  is  by  Bemhard 
FabritiuH,  in  tho  National  (valleryy  Ijondon.  The  babe  liei 
in  a  wicker  cradle,  and  the  mother  sits  beside  ity  offering  ax 
apple  to  a  child.     Zacharias  writes  on  his  tablet  near  l^. 

V.   TiiK  CiKruMC'iHroN  and  Naming  op  St.  Johk  the 

lUlTlST 

And  it  ninic  to  |>a^^  tlint  on  tin*  cif^htli  day  t hoy  came  to  cirenmeiae  the 
child:  niid  tli«\v  called  him  /nrhAria!<,  aftor  the  name  of  bin  father. 

And  his  niothi-r  answ4T«>d  and  ^Aill,  Not  hd;  hut  he  Khali  be  ealledJohn. 

And  they  siiid  unto  hvr,  Thcro  is  nont;  of  thy  kindre<l  that  is  called  by  thii 
name. 

And  they  ninde  si^s  to  bin  father,  how  h<>  wouhl  have  him  called. 

And  ho  asked  for  n  writing  table,  and  wrote,  saying,  Ilia  name  ia  John. 
And  thev  marvelled  all.  —  Ia'KK  i.  5JMW. 

It  was  tho  Jewish  custom  to  administer  the  rite  of  circum- 
cision on  tlie  eiglitli  day  after  the  hirth  of  a  male  infant^  and 
on  tliis  occasion  the  child  formally  received  his  name.  The 
circumstances  connected  with  the  naming  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist  were  so  peculiar  that  the  incident  has  entirely  over- 
shadowed the  actual  administration  of  the  rite  itself. 

It  would  appear  from  the  words  of  the  evangelist  that  the 
questioning  of  Zacharias  took  place  at  the  moment  of  the 
ceremony,  and  we  should  naturally  expect  that  art  would  so 
represent  it.  This,  however,  is  not  the  case  with  any  of  the 
old  masters.  The  Naming  is  either  treated  as  an  independent 
subject  or  in  combination  with  the  Birth,  in  the  manner  we 
have  noted.  The  Circumcision  is  usually  entirely  ignored,  or 
in  rare  exceptions,  as  in  the  series  at  Urbino,  and  on  the 
embroidered  cope  of  the  Florence  Baptistery,  it  is  a  separate 
subject. 

In  the  Urbino  fresco,  the  Circumcision  is  just  outside  the 
house  door,  under  a  vine-covered  trellis.^     A  table  has  been 

1  In  locating  the  ceremony  at  the  residence  of  the  parents,  tiie  artist  shows 
a  knowledge  of  Jewish  custom  entirely  disregarded  by  the  painters  of  Our 
Lord's  Circumcision. 


id  there,  over  wliith  <i  woman  holds  the  naked  babe 
est  performs  the  rite       Several  spectators  crowd 
way, 

moiig  those  who  have  made  a  separate  subject  ■ 
ing  are  Giotto,  Ghirlandajo,  and  Andrea  Pisano.  P 
lighly  praised  the  antique  simplicity  of  Pisano's  co 
and  other  critics  have  expatiated  on  the  excelle; 
to'a  work.     There  is  a  lovely  picture  by  Fra  Ange! 


Ihe  ritiri  Udllnrr,  Kloritnc*,  with  tlio  Mtiic  g«n«nl  trtottf^ 
(iiotto's.  ZorhAruw  in  torn  «Ml«rl  nt  tlie  left  in  >  court juj 
A  gRHip  of  wotnrti  riaiiJing  bafora  liim,  the  Virgin  yUry  viti 
Ibe  IhIv,  kll  nwailing  with  •weet  MriouineM  the  fathn-V  writ 
t«n  verdict  on  ih*  num^. 

In  HriJstio  qunlitias  (ihir)nniliij<i'«  fn>My}  tWa  uol  <;oiU|«n 
ffivonbly  with  oilier*  nf  the  umo  n>r\rii  in  S,  Maria  NovcIU 
tmt  hu  ohuwii  a  ccrluin  'luuint  Kncn  uf  humor  wliirh  is  JrtRiict 
iljd.  He  M4U1*  to  a{i|)reRial«  tha  contrmit  Wtwreu  the  vagei 
aflicioiutnuMi  (if  thi:  nvighbora  in  diacuMing  tho  nutno,  and  tht 
iiuiet  diicliiicHi  of  the  father,  to  wham  it  in  not  n  matter  ul 
choice,  but  of  divine  appointment.  ZaclinriaR,  Beat«ct  in  tha 
amUe  of  a  lur(;e  court,  looks  tint  at  the  neighbors,  uor  yet  ai 
hie  tablet,  but  at  hid  Ixiy,  held  by  u  wnniiin  kneeling  besith 
him.  Au  old  man  unable  to  reiitrain  hiH  curiosity  peepa  ov«i 
hill  tiho alder  to  read  the  tablet. 

Overlxtck'a  composition  in  his  (ioai>el  ecries  unites  adniir 
ably  all  tlie  concomitant  circumstances  of  the  event.  Thi: 
scene  is  laid  iu  the  portico  of  a  house,  from  the  rear  of  which 
we  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  pleasant  landst^ape.  In  the  back- 
ground at  the  loft  on  a  higher  level  and  iu  the  shadow  is  seen 
the  motlier  sitting  up  on  a  eurtaini.'d  bed,  with  two  or  three 
attendants  alxiut  her.  The  foreground  is  filled  with  the  group 
of  interest,  Zacharias  is  seated  bending  over  his  tablet,  while 
an  onlooker  jwepa  o>er  big  shoulder  as  in  Gbirlandajo's  picture. 
The  Virgin  Mary,  known  by  her  halo,  awaita  tho  father's  de- 
cision, holding'  the  ba1]c  in  lier  arms.  Behind  her  are  two 
women  and  a  child,  and  still  farther  to  the  right,  beside  b 
table  prepared  for  tlie  rite,  sits  the  priest,  who  has  come  for 
the  circumcision.  He  holds  a  knife  in  one  hand,  watching 
Zacharias  with  bland  interest. 


VI.    The  Annuxciatton  to  thf,  Siiki-jikrus 

And  there  were  in  the  jame  conntry  Ehepherds  abiding  in  i}ie  tithi,  keeping 
■watch  dver  thoir  flock  hy  iiight. 

And,  lo,  theangal  of  the  Lord  cania  upon  (hem,  and  thp  Kkirj-  of  Ihe  Lord 
nhone  mund  about  tliem  ;  and  thav  wera  bom  afraid. 

And  the  angel  naid  nnto  them.  Fear  not ;  for,  hehoM,  [  tiring  von  good 
lidinga  of  great  joy,  wfaicli  shall  be  to  all  pooplii. 

For  unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the  city  of  DRvld  a  Saviour,  whifh  is  Christ 
the  Lord. 


And  this  shall  be  a  sign  unto  you  ;  Ye  shall  find  the  babe  wri 
.ling  clothes,  lying  in  a  manger. 

And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the 
praising  God,  and  saying. 

Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  t 
Luke  ii.  8-14. 

As  Our  Lord  was  to  come  among  us  as  the  Goo 
seeking  the  sheep  which  had  wandered  from  his  fol( 
shepherds  of  Galilee  who  received  the  first  glad  ti 
arrival. 

The  Annunciation  to  the  Shepherds  is  conceiv 
ring  simultaneously  with  the  Nativity,  and  Christia 
nizing  the  connection  between  the  two  events,  ( 
them  in  a  single  picture.     Treated  in  this  way,  th 
tion  is  made  subordinate  to  the  Nativity.     In  the 
little  being  known  of  perspective,  the  scene  is  lite 
side  of  the  manger.     Sometimes  a  single  shepherd 
message,  as  in  the  Greek  Menologium  of  the  Vat 
times  there  are  two,  as  in  the  Nativities  of  Duccio 
sometimes  three,  as  in  The  Great  Latin  Psalter  of  tl 
Library.     When  art  became  more  advanced  "  the 
relegated  to  the  distant  background,  and  to  give 
prominence  it  is  a  hillside  rather  than  a  plain, 
example  is  Luini's  Nativity  in  the  Louvre,  and  a  ( 
Nativity  by  Peter  Cristus  in  Berlin.     The  Anni 
the  Shepherds  is  also  combined  frequently  and  i 
way  with  both  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds  and 
tion  of  the  Magi.     Examples  of  the  former  are  1 
the  Louvre,  by  Aspertini  in  Berlin,  and  by  Signc 
National  Gallery.     Examples  of  the  latter  are  by 
in  the  Foundling  Hospital  at  Florence,  and  by  '. 
Cittji  della  Pieve. 

In  such  pictures  the  "multitude  of  the  heav 
whose  song  followed  close  upon  the  annunciation  o 
angel,  appear  above  the  roof  of  the  stable,  transfe: 
from  the  field  by  poetic  license.  Three  figures  oi 
for  the  "  multitude  "  in  the  early  days,  the  numb 
mystic  significance.  In  later  times,  when  the  art 
were  greater,  the  number  expanded  into  a  genuine 

The  Annunciation  to  the  Shepherds  takes  on  i 
tance  when  introduced  into  an  art  series  as  a  sepai 
We  find  it  among  the  other  angelic  apparitions  on 


tturea,  two  ooUMe  cxniupIeH  Ij^Tiif;  tBoTo^ox  at  Sgtieri, 
blMho|>  of  TniVM  (t^uth  i.*iitury),  an-1  Ilia  Livre  d'Hmin* 
nue  lie  Bretngnu  (iifU«nth  c«ntury).  Mr.  Thonuu  F. 
anUoii,  of  Wuhinglou,  I).  (,'.,  1im  in  bin  T«lti*b]e  collee- 
ftl  liMUt  tlirce  tnUiiatures  of  this  subject,  full-[Mg«  Ulaiaiaa- 
in  Mrvice  books  of  tlie  foiirt«^ottlb  nml  Hftwnth  c«otunc«, 
All  after  the  Mine  type.  In  nvery  com  them  are  tbi«! 
Iiocds,  with  coii8i<1(inible  varioty  in  atlitmln  unl  gsature. 
is  playing  on  hngpipc^i,  a  rjunint,  rt'atistic  touch  wbicti 
B  pity  to  have  lo«[.  Thu  angttl  i^  only  nn  ap|writian  of 
and  shoulders,  holding  ■  xcroll  with  tbo  niotto  Olaria  in 

Gaddi's  fresco  of  the  Haroiixelli  t'hajMtl,  B.  Croc»,  Plor- 
there  arc  only  two  shephords  lying  on  the  hillnide  in  tfa« 
mist  of  <laH-n.  The  angel  is  a  dainty  bird-like  creature, 
ng  a  sceptre  and  flying  towards  them  on  a  yellow  cloud. 

artist's  iinperfuut  technique  cannot  injure  the  wonderful 
ivenesB  of  his  work.  Here  wo  have  the  atmosphere  of 
i  mystery  wliich  we  ought  to  associate  with  the  event. 
shepherds  show  a  sense  of  awe  quite  diOoront  from  the 
d  amazement  seen  in  some  early  miniatures,  or  the  super- 
us  terror  portrayed  by  the  seventeenth  century  Dutch. 
itside  series  of  the  life  of  Christ,  the  Annunciation  to  the 
herda  as  an  independent  subject  is  rare  and  belongs  di»- 
y  to  artists  specially  fond  of  pastoral  scenes,  of  cattle,  snd 
nt  life.  It  was  a  favorite  with  the  Da  Ponte  family,  who 
shed  in  Bassano,  Italy,  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  were 
■eal  originators  of  the  ffenre  style.  I  have  counted  sis 
tea  attributed  to  various  painters  of  this  name  in  the  gal- 

of  Europe.  They  are  tine  landaciipes,  with  well-rendered 
>B  of  cattle  and  men,  but  without  religious  si^ilicance. 
hat  raisers  them  above  the  ordinary  clever  pastoral  pictore 
e  strange  solemn  light  on   the  horizon,   an  atniospheiic 

which  is  peculiar  to  the  early  twilight  of  mountain-gilt 

the  seventeenth  century  the  genre  style  reached  its  high- 
erfection  in  the  Dutch  school,  hence  we  naturally  find 
'  among  them  who  attempted  the  appearance  of  the  angel 
E  shepherds.  The  list  of  those  who  treated  the  subject, 
iing  Dutch,  Flemish,  and  German  masters,  contains  the 


Thi   \i  gtl  appeal 


Miepherds  {Tadde   Gaddi) 


ames  of  Heiiibraiidt  and  his  pupil,  (jovert  Flinck,  Bercheni, 
hetncli,  '\\  oiuernian,  ^  in  Hapnsbergen,  and  Van  der  Werft 
Lembrandt  fttands  out  from  all  the  others  by  virtue  of  his 
izard  power  of  managing  light  E\en  in  black  ind  white, 
hich  11  thp  oiilv  form  in  which  be  gn  es  us  the  subject,  he 
lakes  a  manelous  contrist  between  the  inky  blacknpis  of  the 
hin  and  the  \^lLirl  of  glory  from   nhich  the    herald  angel 


Kembnndt,        nk,  luul  Vim  Hi 
^1  t«zt  and  nDuv  lu  with  the  lirnid  aiTgd  "«  nali^' 

the  heavenly  Itoat  pniaing  (io>l."  ThU  giTea  gmler  ' 
Wmtm  k  «  cri  it,lnit  Mm  effn-l  in  oUutrvriw  apoiliM]  by  I 
Minlr  CM  >{  th«  riiapberdd^tww  liecamo  <]uita  ^ 

my  —  faL.,  Jing  over  oue  oiiolhu  iu  Uieir  fright    ' 

rmui  shows  4  <tt«r  insight  in  lii«  piotnre  (Ttresdcn 
),  vhere  aa  ol  I  iil.ui  Ktrrkh^h  »ut  Lio  unim  bb  if  to  w«l. 
le  vision.  In  ■:.  (i-nil.  «•■  iiui^t  My  of  the  Thittlt  nchool 
ey  degraded  IIh  ilinii''.  nlivnitv  nisile  homely  by  th« 
•  painters,  to  tK.-  |..ii]ifijlly  to  mm  on  place, 
r  seventeenth  <. ntnry  picliires  of  tho  AniiUDciatlun  li> 
:pherda  are  by  I'luhnin  mid  Ilcncdetto  Cantiglione.  Hy 
ter  is  an  int«r  ^thi),'  monolyiie  in  he  Albertina  at  Vi- 
ntirely  unlike  In-  juiinling  in  Iho  I  Tinswick  (Jallety. 
imber  of  notiilili^    i-icturi-*  uf    Iho  subject  have   beea 

in  the  latter  [..nl  tif  tlii*  ninclrcnth  century. 
tastien  Lepage,  miu  ivhich  haa  received  high  prniss  fron. 
uatworthy  criiic-  ns  Mrs.    Heury  Ady  ("Julia  Catb-  ■ 
')  and  Mrs.  Sl.:iiiii}.an. 

!ftbanel,  a  striliin^  |iietiire,  reproduced  in  tlio  "Master- 
if  European  Art,"' 

'ritz  von  Uhdt',  a  pidnre  (.'xhibited  at  tlio  Columbian 
•ion,  1893. 
J.  Perrault,  a  picture  exhibited  at  the  I'nris  Salon,  1896. 

pictures  bear  witness  to  the  perennial  interest  of  a  story 

simple  and  improBsive  and  worthy  of  tho  brush  of  th« 

master. 

I.   The  Staii  Ari'KARiNfi  to  tiik  Wi^n  Men 

hen  JeHiiK  wns  born  in  Hctlilchcm  nf  .luiltra  m  th>!  Anya  i>[  Herod  th« 


g  of  Our  Tjord  was  to  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 

s  brought  to  high  and  low  alike.      So  he 

1  to  his  service  not  only  the  ignorant  shejiherds  of 

but  the  teamed  8age«  of  the  East.      To  the  latter  the 

on  came  in  the  vision  of  a  star,  but  exnetly  how  or  wjieii 

lot  know. 


■  may  rcasonaltljr  <lau-  Ui^k  (lie  Aimuiimtioii  tu  ihi*  Wiv 
«ii  as  ciLrl,v  iis  llic  Anniitii-ialiua  tu  IIil-  Slj<-i>li(-nU.  If  Itiblp 
Iticism  discnidit  thin  chtuiiology,  it  luUHt  Btiii  rvinain  trur 
«t  the  two  TeveUtioM  boloug  togi-tUnr  ib  a  very  rw«l  waj^. 
be  groat  modern  Kiigti«li  artiitt,  Ilume-Jotin,  maiiifvab  a 
Wp  sPHsn  of  great  rralitioo  in  iii«  pictura  of  Angels  lending  « 
lephorJ  and  a  King;  both  pcniuiiit  and  wise  man  j'iulding  in 
mpk  fnith  lo  the  uma  divine  innucnre  which  dtnwfi  them  to 
«  monger. 

Tha  Wise  Mvn'a  Vision  of  the  Star  linn  soldom  l>v«<n  loade  a 
jbject  of  art,  except  in  rather  early  Christian  CGntnrir*.  A  f»W 
iriouB  and  inter«Hting  eicaui|ilos  are  woll  worth  motitioning. 

It  appears  iu  the  carving*  of  an  ivory  book  cover,  sixtl)  c«n 
^ry,  preserved  in  the  Milan  Catlindral.  Tlirce  initD  stand 
oking  up  at  a  otjir,  the  two  outtir  figiirtiB  pointing  to  the  vj- 
311,  the  middle  one  clasping  his  bands  in  jirayer.    Very  similar 

an  eleventh  century  fresco  in  the  Church  of  St.  Urban  alia 
iffarella,  near  Rome,  although  on  a  far  larger  Rcale.  The 
agi  here  wear  the  Phrygian  cap,  and  beside  each  one  is  naively 
scribed  the  name  supplied  by  legend,  "  Caspar,  Alelchior, 
aldasar."  The  Magi  !«eeiug  the  star  i^  the  aubject  of  ma  of 
>e  mosaics  of  the  Monrealo  Cathedrnl. 

Mrs.  Jameson  teUa  us  that,  according  to  an  early  commeo- 
ty  on  St.  Matthew,  the  miraculous  star  had  the  form  of  a 
»be.  This  legend  explains  the  fresco  of  Taddeo  Gaddi  in 
le  Baronzelli  Chapel,  S.  Croce,  Florence.  The  composition  i 
worthy  companion,  to  the  AununciatiiiiL  to  the  Shepherds  i 
le  same  eeries.  We  now  have  the  three  men  clearly  diffn-- 
itiated  to  reprcEent  three  ages  of  life.  The  oh!  man  has  the 
ae  head  of  a  genuine  sage.  The  middle-aged  one  is  of  a  mora 
atter-of-fact  temperament.  The  youth  ia  ill-drawn  and  I&- 
imbles  the  shepherd  of  the  other  pictute,  but  his  attitude  end 
ipression  are  truly  devout. 

A  similar  treatment  of  the  theme  illustrates  perfectly  the 
orthern  spirit  of  art.  It  is  the  wing  of  a  triptych  in  the  ■ 
■eriin  Gallery,  by  Roger  van  der  Wejden,  The  star  is  again 
le  Christ-child  vision  viewed  by  old  age,  manhood,  and  youth, 
-ut  from  the  "  wise  men  "  of  St.  Matthew  they  are  transformed 
ito  the  "  kings  "  of  the  legend,  trailing  their  rich  embroidered 
>beB  ovei  the  ground. 


Modern  versions  of  the  subject  are  by  Portaels,  a  Belgiar 
artist,  and  by  Bida  in  his  illustrations  of  the  Evangelists 
These  revert  to  the  original  interpretation  of  the  story,  anc 
show  the  three  figures  in  the  desert  with  faces  lifted  to  i 
meteor-like  star,  which  sends  forth  a  great  burst  of  glory.  Ir 
the  Belgian  picture  they  are  standing  with  robes  trailing  alonj 
the  ground ;  in  Bida's  illustration  they  are  mounted  oh  lain 
Arab  steeds. 

The  Magi  en  Koute  is  one  of  the  subjects  in  Tissot's  illus 
trated  "  Life  of  Christ,"  and  is  a  very  picturesque  compositioi 
in  which  a  caravan  moves  straight  out  of  the  picture.  Th( 
approach  of  the  three  to  Jerusalem  is  also  the  subject  of  i 
picture  by  La  Farge. 


111.  THE  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD  OP  OUl 

LORD 

I.  TiiK  Nativity  ok  ouk  Lord 

And  it  came  t(i  ]iA»n  in  i\um>  (Uy«.  that  thiTf  went  out  a  decree  from  Om 
Au^UMtUH,  that  all  tlu*  world  ^h(lui(l  be  taxed . 

And  all  wont  tn  )w  tax«'d,  evrrv  one  intu  bin  own  citv. 

And  .ToKopIi  nUit  went  up  from  <!a)ili>«',  out  of  the  city  of  NaSAraCh,  ia 
Judu'u,  unto  thi'  city  of  David,  \\liirh  !•«  rallrd  liethlehem  ;  .  .  • 

To  Ih!  taxiMl  with  Mary  his  i'>|MiUM*d  wifr,  iN'in^  K*^*'  with  child* 

And  !M>  it  wu><,  that,  while  they  witc  thm',  the  4lays  were  mccomplislied  th 
^he  should  he  delivered. 

And  she  l)rouf;ht  forth  her  tirMlMtrii  mui,  and  wrapped  him  in  awaddlii 
elothes,  and  laid  him  in  a  maiifc^'r  ;  l)e«*ause  there  was  no  room  for  thiem] 
the  inn.  —  Lukk  ii.  1-7. 

The  literal  beginning  of  Our  Lonrs  earthly  life  dates  froi 
the  l^ethleliem  manger  where  Mary  laid  her  firstborn  soi 
"  because  tliere  was  no  room  for  him  iu  the  inn."  The  ver 
lowliness  of  those  surruundin«^'s  ft)rms  one  of  tlie  chief  el< 
ments  in  tlie  artistic  adaptability  of  tlie  event.  The  bed-chan 
ber  of  a  prince  would  be  commonplace,  indeed,  in  comparison, 

The  Xativity  is  extremely  rare  in  tlie  earliest  Christian  ai 
cycle,  but  appears  early  in  mediaeval  art  in  all  the  many  avail 
able  art  materials.  The  typical  composition  was  so  definitel; 
fixed  from  the  outset  that  to  describe  a  single  picture  is  it 
describe  all  the  primitive  examples.  In  complete  form  it  is  j 
crowded  combination  of  many  details.  The  setting  —  whei 
there  is  any  —  is  either  a  sort  of  rock  cave  or  the  open  frami 
structure  known  as  the  pent-house,  ornamented  with  a  largi 
star  above.  In  the  centre  lies  the  mother  beside  the  manger 
a  table-like  affair,  on  which  is  placed  the  child,  heavily  swad 
died.  Joseph  is  seated  at  one  side,  and  an  ox  and  an  ass  ar< 
seen  in  the  rear.  The  moment  just  preceding  may  be  re  pre 
sented  by  a  group  below  busy  with  the  babe's  natal  bath 
The  moment  just  following  is  indicated  by  the  approach  o: 
shepherds    from  the  right,   above  whom   hovers    the   heralc 


angel  In  the  upper  air  la  an  an^el  choir  bearing  ^  s,c 
iiiBtribed  dkria  ii  Excelsis  Jlhe  group  at  the  hath  is  soi 
times  omitted  and  occasionally  the  mother's  po  ition  is  chai 
from  the  reclining  to  the  sitting  josture  With  such  sh 
vanationb  thi  composition  obtains  throughout  the  lUumina 
min  ctipts  and  was  adopted  without  change  bj  Duecio  m 
l^ieJella  of  tie  Siena  Cathedral  altar  piece  the  picture  n 
hemg  in  the  Berlin  Iralleiy       Ihe  whole  interior  of  the  sti 


(Nitcolo  P  stt 


18  etpoied  to  view  by  the  omission  of  the  front  wall  1 
\  irgin  s  couch  runs  across  the  entire  width  the  manger  ta 
iiig  in  the  rearmth  the  heads  of  the  ox  and  ast,  seen  above 
p  Ige  The  structure  is  completely  surrounded  on  the  outs 
b\  the  accessorj  figurea  abo\e  the  loof  a.  louhle  choir 
idol  n^  anj^ek  at  the  bides  Joaeph  on  the  left  and  the  t 
bepherds  on  the  right  below  the  gro  ip  at  the  bath  am 
flock  of  sheep 

Aa  a  topical  evample  from  sculpture  we  may  compare  w 
Duccios  viork  Pisano  s  Natuity  on  the  pulpita  at  Siena  a 


his  fi|fu»a  ore  dUUnctl;  clniMcal,  tiit  ^^jHI^^^^^^^I 
vferiUltk-  .luuo  ill  tli«  BtAUKwjue  buastf  qH^^^^^^I 
robiml  umtnmly  dignitf.  ^'^^^^1 

All  tbiH  tiuiv  tbe  attitutl*  of  the  Vui^n  bu  ilmwa  fl^^| 
to  lii'iiielf  rather  than  to  the  child.  Hhe  tunu  h«r  bMI^^| 
him,  looking  ilircictly  out  of  the  ]iictiiK'.  It  was  a  ^"Uij^H 
innovalioti  iijwn  axiating  i'leax  when  (liotto  nuide  bold  f^M 
tray  a  grmiiino  tnnthfr  vrh"  tnkc»i  her  liabp  into  hor  OW^H 
Wo  innj  Kliidy  tlii*  new  mulif  loth  ut  A»ii*i  and  I^^^H 
th<i  Aasiai  fnicco  (8.  FronuAxco,  lower  chiirrb),  tfa«  V^I^^H 
up  nn  her  1m-iI  looking  dclighti>illy  at  tbe  C'hri(t-diQli^^| 
tike  holds  ujiright,  sliHIy  avroddlud,  lik>^  n  doll;  lu  MWh^H 
lit  FnduN  (Ari'iia  Clmpi-l),  »ho  tuni^  witli  cuger  ino4lM|^H 
to  receive  biiii  from  thu  huuda  of  uii  ntloniUnt.  Al  JJ^| 
(iiuttu  toilows  hia  pn-dttniiKsuTB  In  intrixliiring  tha  g|i«^| 
wotUBU  hiithiiit;  the  cliJld,  but  in  hiB  luler  fn'sco  ut  F^M^jb^l 
is  kft  out.  Tuddoo  (iaddi  imitated  tlin  Aselii  MW^H 
with  the  oiniHsion  of  the  grou])  in  the  foreground.  Hii^^H 
is  in  the  Berlin  Ualltiry.  ^Wt 

The  representation  of  the  Nativity  in  its  historical  einipUsi 
unased  almost  entirely  with  the  boginning  of  the  fifteenth  ce 
tury,  and  an  entirely  new  motif  wks  introduced,  which  chang* 
the  cBsential  character  of  the  subject.  With  the  same  trac 
tional  setting,  the  ox  and  ass  still  conspicuoue,  and  the  she 
herds  approaching  as  before  from  oue  aide,  the  three  ]>rincip 
tigitres  undergo  a  marked  change  in  position,  The  child  oo 
lies  on  the  ground  in  the  centre,  and  at  the  sides  ] 
Joseph  kneel  iu  adoration.  Properly  sjieaking,  thia  t 
should  be  called  the  Adoration  of  the  Child,  or  if  thA  I 
Nativity  be  applied,  it  should  he  qtialiiied  as  an  ideal  ot  i 
tional  treatment  to  distinguish  it  from  the  historical.  !K! 
speaks  of  this  subject  as  Umhrian  in  origin  and  peculiatl 
characteristic  of  this  school.  Ferugino  indeed  furnishes  ik 
most  conspicuous  examples  of  its  adoption  in  the  fresco  of  ib 
Cambio  at  Perugia  and  in  the  altar-pieces  often  repeated,  c 
which  there  are  specimens  in  tha  National  Gallery,  Londot 
and  the  Pitti.  Florence.  i 

Lorenzo  di  Credi,  Perugiuo's  Florentine  contemporary,  ■*! 
also  particularly  fond  of  thia  subject.     The  Florentine  schoj 


THE   INFANCY  AND   CHILDHOOD   OF  OUR   LORD  4^ 

is  full  of  lovely  examples  by  many  others,  both  sculptors  (an 
Andrea  della  Robbia  and  Antonio  K-ossellino)  and  painters  (sn 
Botticelli  and  Filippo  Lippi).  In  the  best  typical  examples  o: 
the  Nativity  in  northern  art  we  find  the  same  ideal  methoc 
of  treatment,  —  the  mother  kneeling  before  her  new-born  bab( 
as  his  first  worshiper.  Mem  ling's  Nativity,  in  the  Hospital  o; 
St.  John's  at  Bruges,  and  DUrer's  woodcut  in  the  series  "  Lif( 
of  the  Virgin,"  are  cases  in  point.  Here  the  homeliness  of  th( 
surroundings  and  the  simple  realism  of  the  peasant  types  por 
trayed  give  the  scene  a  more  historical  character  than  in  th( 
Italian  counterpart.  Joseph  does  not  join  in  the  adoration 
but  stands  apart,  while  angels  add  their  worship  to  the  mother's 
A  radiant  star  above  the  roof,  a  group  of  angels  hovering  jus 
outside,  some  shepherds  approaching  from  one  side,  are  th( 
other  features  corresponding  to  the  Italian  composition. 

Besides  the  change  in  the  mother's  attitude,  the  fifteentl 
century  brought  another  innovation  into  the  traditional  com 
position  of  the  Nativity.  This  was  the  advancement  of  th( 
shepherds  into  a  conspicuous  position  about  the  manger,  mak 
ing  the  essentially  new  subject  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds 
though  the  old  title  of  the  Nativity  was  still  incorrectly  re 
tained.  The  prevalence  of  this  subject  makes  a  genuine 
Nativity,  strictly  so  called,  a  rarity  in  the  best  art  of  th( 
Renaissance.  It  is  rare,  also,  at  the  present  day,  when  the  lov( 
of  elaboration  still  makes  the  larger  subject  more  popular 
With  Sir  Edward  Burne-Jones  the  Nativity  has  been  a  fre 
quent  subject  for  various  forms  of  church  decoration.  On( 
of  these  is  in  mosaic  over  the  arch  in  St.  Paul's  (American' 
Church,  Eome.  The  mother  is  kneeling  before  her  chile 
under  the  frail  shelter  of  a  shed  upon  which  the  snow  is  fall 
ing  heavily.  On  either  side  shepherds  are  climbing  up  a  steej 
hillside,  dazzled  by  the  light  from  the  Holy  Child. 

Still  another  design  is  intended  for  stained  glass,  and  is  i 
tall  narrow  panel.  In  the  lower  part  of  the  picture  the  tin) 
babe  lies  on  the  floor  of  a  cave,  while  the  mother  bends  ecstat 
ically  over  him.  Joseph,  on  the  opposite  side,  also  stands  ir 
reverent  adoration,  while  three  angels  approach  from  the  rear 
In  the  upper  part  of  the  composition,  above  the  roof  of  th( 
cave,  the  shepherds  stand  with  shaded  eyes  gazing  at  a  com 
pany  of  angels  floating  towards  them  in  a  double  row.  Stil 
different  is  the  famous  painting  at  Torquay,  England,  which  h 


trd  and  «  King  (p.  4'2).  It  i«  [iil«resling  U>  mo 
}deru  i«uttt!r  hu  tuvked  itu^k  t<i  tliu  carl;  motif  and 
»  the  motlidt  1511%  on  %  «ouch.  It  U  the  iliwt  iaalniMa 
iHrl;  Bve  cMiliiriH  tliat  a  {Mintor  has  ventured  upon 
nplo  nnd  nalunil  midvrinf;  of  aiothnrhood  nt  the  Savioiir't 
Uid  lite  Ksult  jiiHtifiiM  tlia  ncoj  of  (ir^-linphttelituUL- 
etuN  ia  nut  without  an  clomonl  of  tbr  mystic,  as 

UlMtct.     ThrM  lovply  ongvh  sUtni]  nt  tho  foot  of 
th  Korrowrfwl  fnew  whicli  foroltoiir.  tlio  future, 
n  ia  a  mum  pronuntunal  rttnlJam  liiit  not  \en  myBtioisq 

Holy  Night  of  FriU  von  Uh•l(^  Th?  Mwno  u  a  ruA| 
|hteil,  afl«r  th«  innnner  of  Kombnindt,  hy  nainglo  lant«ni 
m  Iha  wall.  Th«t  only  funiiiiliing  in  u  poiirh  on  wliiflli: 
itiicr  hu  hueii  tying  with  htrr  chilil.  At  this  monutl 
j»  ftirw&rd  in  u  Hitting  ponturu  In  iiend  ovur  hor  bdfaq 
nstoay  of  love  nnd  mlorutiou. 

very  Btrikiiig  pitrture  by  Le  Ttolle  lielongs  aiao  in  lhi« 
.  as  Die  Holy  Kight  of  Carl  Mliller.     They  are  diffit 
a  to  classify,  henause  while  mnkinj;  the  shepherds  ni 
luoua  than  in  the  true  Nativity,  thej  dn  not  represent  ' 
ual  moment  of  adoration.      ^Vo  may  coniproniise  on  the 
The  Arrival  of  the  Shppherds. 

Rolle  fihowe  great  originality  in  the  invention  of  his  set- 
ae great  dim  Bpaces  of  a  staiilij  with  shepherds  peering 
lary  and  Joseph  seated  far  witliiu  on  the  faay,  the  babe 
on  his  mother's  lap,  Mliller  frankly  follows  Italian 
in,  hilt  there  is  his  own  indefinable  individuality  in  his 
«  in  spite  of  that, 

II.  TnK  Adoration  nv  the  Shkpherhs 
:  came  to  pus,  as  tbe  angeis  were  |>:nne  away  from  thini  inio  heaven, 
"bttis  Mid  one  to  anoOier,  I.et  us  now  gu  even  uiiio  Bclhk-lieni,  and 
^ng  whicb  in  cnme  tn  pann,  whii^h  Die  Lord  bath  itindv  kiinH'ti  unto  lis. 
hi>v  tame  with  Imslp,  and  found  Morv.,  and  JnsPjili,  and  llif  Ijube  Iviug 
igcr. 

rhen  they  had  seen  it,  they  made  known,  abroad  tlic  saving  nhich  waa 
n  concerning  this  child. 

II  they  that  heard  it  wondered  at  those  things  which  were  lold  them 
hepherds. 

[aiy  kept  all  these  things,  and  pondered  them  in  her  heari. 
he  shepherde  returned,  glorifying  and  praising  God  fnr  all  the  thinji;a 
y  had  heard  and  seen,  as  it  was  tuld  anto  them. —  LuKt  ii.  15-20. 


THE  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  OUR  LORD 

First  to  welcome  the  shepherd-king  into  his  kingdom  " 
the  shepherds  from  the  neighborhood  of  Bethlehem.  SumnK 
by  night,  and  coming  in  haste,  we  may  believe  that  they  s 
beside  the  manger  before  the  day  dawned,  and  art  has  ab 
represented  their  Adoration  as  on  the  holy  night. 

We  have  seen  that  in  the  typical  Nativity  the  shept 
approach  from  the  side.  When  they  are  actually  in 
presence  of  the  babe,  kneeling  or  standing  in  attitude 
devotion,  the  subject  is,  properly  speaking,  the  Adoratic 
the  Shepherds.  The  line  between  the  two  cannot  alway 
rigidly  drawn,  but  in  general  we  may  take  the  title  from 
position  and  action  of  the  shepherds.  The  Adoration  of 
Shepherds  as  a  distinctive  subject  does  not  belong  to  earb 
but  was  developed  in  the  fifteenth  century,  from  thencei 
often  filling  the  place  in  historical  series  which  was  previc 
occupied  by  the  more  simple  Nativity.  Introduced  at  so 
a  day,  it  has  always  had  the  advantage  of  skillful  treatn 
and  scores  of  favorite  pictures  attest  its  popularity. 

Many  of  the  earlier  examples  are  ideal  and  devotions 
style.  The  shepherds  form  with  the  Virgin  and  Jose] 
circle  of  worshipers  kneeling  about  the  child,  who  lies  li 
tiny  idol  on  the  ground  in  the  centre.  Adoring  angels 
often  added  to  the  company.  Lorenzo  di  Credits  fine  p 
ing  in  the  Florence  Academy  is  a  representative  picture  of 
sort,  and  a  perfect  expression  of  the  intensely  pietistic  s 
of  Savonarola's  Florence.  Other  works,  conceived  in  a  sir 
vein,  are  by  Ghirlandajo  in  the  Florence  Academy,  bj 
Spagna  in  the  Louvre,  and  by  Signorelli  in  the  National 
lery.  In  the  same  list  belong  some  bas-reliefs  by  Giov 
della  E/obbia,  as,  for  instance,  one  at  Citta  di  Castello.  C 
in  this  devotional  form  of  the  subject  the  approching  car 
of  the  Magi  is  seen  in  the  background,  as  in  Pinturicc 
fresco  at  Spello. 

Turning  now  to  the  later  development  of  the  subject, 
reggio's  Notte  of  the  Dresden  Gallery  comes  to  mind  at 
as  the  most  famous  and  attractive  example.     Here  the  m 
of  chiaroscuro  had  full  scope  for  his  gift,  and  he  used 
opportunity  magnificently.     The  picture  is  so  well  known 
any  description   seems  an   impertinence.     No   one  has  s 
before  it  unawed  by  the  mysterious  and  brilliant  white 
emanating  from  the  babe,  and  shining  full'  in  the  face  of 


mug  Virgin  molbar.  _  „  _ 

iiliw  of  niikkint;  tb«  i;)iil<[  tlin  tooren  «f  TlluiuTtutinB, 
liug  u  onlinly  uniquD  and  lua  bmn  nt  odci<  tbe  dc- 
I  iu«iiintioD  of  hi*  ailnitrvra.  Many  Imre  MKtKht  to 
n  oti«  way  or  atmlhvr  )iia  iralchlM*  work.      Tb«  pie- 

Antiibola  (Vrncci  in  the  Louvra,  liy  C«rlu  ManU 
Iprmilaga  at  St.  I'vt'^rebnrg,  by  lEoplinol  Man^  i 
iml  by  OiiApitnl  d"  L'tm-yer  in  Mm  BniNMls  I" 
"t  tbi»  moJcl  anrf  ore  worku  n 
■mutt  bus  ftwitoil  n  IjiH-  iif  ln>  nwn.     Hi*  I 

Ml  tbu  commono»t  l>itch  pcatnnU,  Iho  t 

n  rudf^st  onrt,  but  the  homely  *.iniplicity  of  tlwM 

nkiii  tn  the  opirit  of  i\uf  gmumi  uttiry.     The  «1«|| 
y  in  nibloil  in  tho  mugic  rffpctti     *  ligbl  uul  i 
I>n>Miic  dptniU  of  tba  cnvironmei.  i  ura  loitt  in   I 
nnil   tho    [irinctpal    figunin  an  il  utninut«d  iy   | 
G;bt  iif  which  the  Dutch  muatcr  [xx^WHsed  the  a 
uch  (iallery  and  llie  National  Oatlery,  London,  oontg 
iy  Rembrandt  nf  the  Adoration  of  the  Shopfaerda 
rr,  the  illuminalinn  U  frnm  n  bmterti  held  by  Joi 

crib.     In  tbe  luttiT,  tlie  liiib.-  is  hims.'lf.  a 
No/.te,  tbe  chief  scmrc,.  of  light,  mid  tbe  Btnmge  a 
niraculotis  illuniliialion  is  beigbteiieU  by  ita  c 

light  from  lantcnis. 
panish  artiste,  always  marked  for  the  uuive  realism  a 
isant  types,  have  been  particularly  buppy  i] 
ation  of  tbe  Shepberds.     There  ate  four  notable 
flurillo,'  one  by  liiliera,  in  tbe  Louvre,  a  rare  in; 

be  riees  above  bis  singular  predilection  for  the  i 
I  one  by  Velasquez,  in  the  ^National  Gallery.  All  tfaoifrl 
nro  remarkable  for  the  spirit  of  simple  piety  whioh'T 
ibit.      Tbe  rude  simplicity  of  the  Spanish  sbepherde 

strangely  with  the  splendid  muscular  giant  of  Correg- 
le  carefully  costumed  models  of  Lorenzo  di  Credi  and 
la.  In  this  particular  the  only  parallel  with  Spanish 
h  Italy  can  show  is  in  the  Venetian  school,  where 
1  and  Bassano  ventui'ed  to  [Mint  tbe  shepberd  as  be  ia. 
are  by  Bonifazio  (III.)  in  tbe  Hermitage  at  St.  Peters- 
beautiful  and  successful  interpretation  of  tbe  theme. 


n 


THE  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  Om  l.OKD      ■ 

There    a  no  rel  able  a  thor  tj  for  any  offer  nga  o     the  { 

f  tl  e  shell  erd     but  art  haa  often  takea  tl  e  1  bertj  of    n 

s    feat  re      Lfln  ba    are    n  ost   co       only  broug 

doTSa  (Bon  faz  o)   son  et  mes  a  brace  of  b  rJs  (I 

llo)    and  even  a  wl  te  ox  (Dietr  ch   in  Dretdeu  Galleryl 

h  modern  pa    ters  as  ha  e  used   the  suljeot  m  pr 


I them 


The  Adurstjon  of  the  ShepherdB  (Miirillu} 

popular  pictures  —  as  Bouguereaii,  Feuerstein,  Sinkel,  ani 
rest  —  have  contributed  nothing  to  the  real  enrichment  od 
theme. 


III.   The  CiHcuMcisiox 


id  wbi'll  eight  diyii  were  accomplished  for  the  cii^umcisiag  of  the 
une  Has  called  Jvaait,  which  waa  so  nameil  of  Ibe  oiigel  befoFe 
&C«IvEd  in  iLe  womb.  —  Luke  li.  21. 

To  the  Gentile  Christian  the  Circumcision  of  Our  Lordj 
lompiLiatively  imintereeting  incident,  belonging  to  the  1 


VtliVMVthvi  to  llic  work  o(  Chrut  i 
On  tht*  sccmnt  it  wa*  not  mtle  b  mlgtttt  of  Mrlr 
n  art;  n<>r  lutd  it  any  artiHtic  fiutlnn-B  Ui  ntmmRicnil  it 
r  age,  boing  on  the  L-ontrnrj'  nilliM-  an  uiipluuntit  sub- 
nrthiiriQCjrr.  il«  rcniluring  i*  ■>■  nimilni  to  the  l*nif>«<DU- 
t  it  hoii  yiolilMl  til  the  mificriifr  claimi  of  thn  latt«r. 
Gi-nunn  aorli^a  of  tin.'  Itcrlin  Onlkry,  a  Dutch  *eri<» 
It^VUtiuy)  in  Aiiiklenlaiu,  Kra  AnKelim'a  wt  «t(  i«ne]» 
a  Acailetiiy,  niul  Tititoretto'ii  fnactxt  in  8.  Roeoo^ 
^*Xce[itiotial  pUvea  wlieru  the  sulijt^ct  is  found  n 
Httnent  of  Our  IjoiiI'k  lite.  The  first  two  htclnde 
lantatiou  bctiidos,  but  in  Tintoretto's  Mnes  the  Ciroum- 
»ub«tilitted  for  the  latter.  ^Ve  shall  Tiid  our  examplm 
niong  inilepondent  pictures,  and  of  those  there  lire  s 

0  notable  niid,  on  the  whole,  much  more  attractive  than 
Id  expect, 

loreraony  ia  nlwoyB  located  in  the  temple.  The  necea- 
ires  are  the  Virgin  and  Child,  St.  Joseph,  and  the  offi- 
priest,  kniio  in  hand.  To  thexe,  however,  are  almost 
ly  added  others  —  assisting  priests,  acolytes,  relatives 
n  and  Anna),  friends,  or  6i>ectators.     The  action  varies 

1  with  the  different  artists  that  we  can  hardly  define 
;rftl  type-composition.  The  child  is  most  often  held 
mother  (Mantegna,  Bartolommeo,  Oiulio  Romano) ; 
ea  by  the  priest  (Tintoretto  and  PUrer) ;  or  again  by 
(Bellini,  Bartel  Sprangher,  and  Rembrandt).  The 
'ho  has  the  child  is  usually  seated,  holding  him  in  the 
sometimes  stands  supporting  him  over  the  altar.     Per- 

I  best  known  of  all  the  pictures  of  the  Circumcision  is 
Giovanni  Bellini,  as  there  are  mimerous  copies  of  it 
I  all  over  Europe.     The  original  is  believed  to  be  the 

at  Castle  Howard,  and  is  esteemed  a  fine  work  by 
impetent  to  judge.     The  priest  stoops  over  tlie  babe, 

Joseph,  while  the  Virgin  stands  looking  on,  accom- 
hy  two  other  figures.  Mantegna's  Circumcision  is  a 
a  celebrated  triptych  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence, 
finest  of  the  three  panels.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
y  of  the  old  priest  as  he  looks  upon  the  child  Lrought 
There  is  here  no  altar-table,  but  a  tray  of  instru- 
i  held  by  an  acolyte.  The  child  clings  pathetically 
other,  alarmed  by  the  priest's  knife. 


THE   INFANCY   AND   CHILDHOOD   OF   COR  LORD 


TheCi 


ion  (Mantegna) 


Bartolommeo's  gem-like  paintiDg  was  originally  intended  fc 
the  door  of  a  shrine,  but  now  hangs  in  the  tJfflzi  Gallerj 
Florence.  The  priest  and  Mary  support  the  child  togethf 
over  the  altar-table.  The  former  being  thus  occupied,  th 
knife  is  not  in  evidence  as  usual.  Joseph  holds  a  taper  at  th 
tight.     A  quiet,  simple  picture. 

There  is  an  elaborate  composition  in  the  Louvre  by  Giuli 
Bomano.'      The  interior  of  a  targe  pillared  temple  is  see 

'  Attributed  in  the  Loarre  Catalogue  to  Bagnacavalln.  Morelli  and  Lajai 
assign  it  to  Giulio  Romano,  whose  drawing  of  the  same  composition  is 
Chntsworth. 


witli  I  MM  1 1  ill*  piiii^  aii<I  rnmiiig  about  Uieir  aflEun. 

Family  an*  gmiiiHMl  nt  the  lf*ft.  The  child  stands 
INM|i*>tal  sii|i)Nirt«'il  by  hiH  mother  on  the  right,  and 
iidcr  th<>  hands  of  the  pricfst.  A  showy  picture  in 
'  rhivf  ovi'iit  is  viTv  unplvnsantly  treatifil. 
■IIi*.s  pirttm*  in  tht*  Nathmal  Gallery  in  conHidered  one 
('(iiii|H)siti<in.s  well  arraii^ftl  and  fnll  of  life  and  energy. 

T lira's  piitun*  is  a  s|H>rially  int(*ro:(ting  work  of  a 
svn  master,  iM'Inii^in^  to  a  private  collection  in  Rome 
•pcncfl  to  tli«*  phntft^rapher.  It  is  a  toudo  showing 
1  and  high -priest  seated  /'/Wz-r/x,  the  hitter  leaning 
-)  ]M'rfonn  the  rite  on  the  ehild  hehl  in  his  mother's 
>  Virj^in  has  a  lovely  ^'irlish  fare,  with  heail  uncov- 
le.  Circumeision  «>f  Tinton^tto's  San  K(k;co  series  is 
if  for  de<M)rative  i'tlecfs,  rieh  in  scarlet  aiul  gold. 
(lid  roln^  of  the  high  priest  is  displayed  to  full  advan- 
g  held  out  on  either  side  hy  attendants,  one  of  whom 
:li  a  basin  for  use  in  the  ceremony.  The  fine  old 
•11  more  attractive  than  the  gorgeous  dress,  and  bends 
)al)e  witli  a  most  tender  expression.  The  child,  held 
cry,  is  supjjorte*!  on  a  (able  in  fn>nt  of  which  stands 
iller  table  holding  various  vessels.  The  Virgin  at  the 
le  table,  Jos(»|»b  bcliind  her,  —  a  noble  looking  man, 
tc  the  group  of  greatest  interest  at  the  left,  but  the 
at  composition  is  glorious  in  details, 
notable  examples  from  northern  art  should  l)e  meu- 
ly  DUrer  in  the  series  of  engravings  ^'Life  of  the  Vir- 
.1),  Avliere  the  subject  is  introduced  as  one  of  the  Seven 

The  mother  witnesses  the  ceremony  with  clasped 

I  an  expression  of  sympathetic  sutrering  on  her  face. 

se,  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna.      The  priest 

child  over  the  altar,  Joseph,  ^lary,  and   others  sur- 

tlie  table.      By  an  unknown  Swabian  master  of  the 

century,  in  the  Dresden  Gallery.  The  priest  sits 
le  with  the  child  on  his  lap,  a  second  priest  kneeling 
m  in  the  act  of  circumcision.      By  Rembrandt,  two 

in  one,  dated  1654,  Joseph  holds  the  child  on  his 
Virgin  seated  beside  him.  A  priest  kneels  before 
forming  the  rite.  In  another,  called  "La  petite  cir- 
"  two  priests  officiate,  one  holding  the  child.  The 
leels  in  the  foreground,  with  Joseph  above  her,  look- 
!  babe. 


There  has  been  a  tendency  to  confuse  the  sul 
Circumcision  with  that  of  the  Presentation,  thou 
events  were  separated  by  thirty-three  days.  The 
painters,  ignorant  of  Jewish  ritual,  frequently  fell  ii 
of  introducing  in  the  former  the  offering  of  doves,  w] 
properly  to  the  latter  subject.  Likewise  the  type 
made  popular  in  the  Presentation,  was  often  repe 
priest  of  the  Circumcision.  All  this,  however,  is  c 
a  sufficient  reason  why  modern  critics  and  com  pi 
logues  familiar  with  the  New  Testament  should 
naming  the  officiating  priest  at  the  Circumcision 
vice  versa,  should  misname  so  many  Presentations  i 
sions.  The  Circumcision  contains  unmistakable 
the  ceremonial  in  the  shape  of  the  knife  or  a  basin 
these,  the  position  of  the  child  should  indicate 
Treated  in  good  taste,  it  is,  if  not  an  interesting 
least  a  suitable  part  of  a  complete  art  presentation 
of  Our  Lord. 


IV.  The  Presentation  in  the  Temp 

And  when  the  days  of  her  purification  according  to  the  law 
accomplished,  they  brought  him  to  Jerusalem,  to  present  him  t 

(As  it  is  w^ritten  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  Every  male  that  ope 
shall  be  called  holy  to  the  Lord;) 

And  to  offer  a  sacrifice  according  to  that  which  is  said  in 
Lord,  A  pair  of  turtledoves,  or  two  young  pigeons. 

And,  behold,  there  was  a  man  in  Jerusalem,  whose  name  wa 
the  same  man  w^as  just  and  devout,  waiting  for  the  consolation 
the  Holy  Ghost  was  upon  him. 

And  it  was  revealed  unto  him  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he 
death,  before  he  had  seen  the  Lord's  Christ. 

And  he  came  by  the  Spirit  into  the  temple:  and  when  the  p 
in  the  child  Jesus,  to  do  for  him  after  the  custom  of  the  law. 

Then  took  he  him  up  in  his  arms,  and  blessed  God,  and  said, 

Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  accordin 

For  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation. 

Which  thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people; 

A  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  thy  people  1 

And  Joseph  and  his  mother  marvelled  at  those  things  whic 
of  him.  ^ 

And  Simeon  blessed  them,  and  said  unto  Marv  his  mothc 
child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of  many  in  Israel ;  and  f 
shall  be  spoken  against; 

(Yea,  a  sword  shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul  also,)  that 
many  hearts  may  be  revealed. 


occur*  ill  )<irtiirr*  bv  tu-n  \'rr«ni!M  MiMJ^^^^^^^H 
ito,  lioth    itl    the    Ilniwluii    (inlkry.      In    llk^WH 
«rliti  (tallnry,  Kunnato  tokiMi  a  itlill  mora  nrighnl  rtep, 
:ig  Inth  Simcun  aii<l  Mnry  kiiooli»)f  ujiposile  rncli  other, 
>riu«r  taking    ttin    tulw   friiiii   liiii    luuther.     ('ari>arcio'& 
itntion  is  iiiiiliiii)>t«<lly  tlio  ((nmlviit  wi^rk  of  art  Irmttn^ 
ibject.     Tim  jiicture,  oriuiiiHlly  |iuiuliil   (liilO)   for  the 
li  of  S,  (iitiWu.',  in  now  ill  t!io  Vfiiici?  At-aclenij',  and  is 
h1  among  tlio  hval  i>rixlui.'tiou>i  ui  [titi  Venettau  ae^|^_ 
eneral  styla  of  tTcatment  ih  ideal  railiur  thati  UM^^^H 
thfl  devotional  piirpDwa  of  Hit  altar-|iiece.     WlQt  4^^^^| 
reiicp   to   historical  aiiactiroiiiHin»,   tlie  artbt  Kpi^H^I 
n  a»  a  pontiff  bctwprn  attendant  cardinals,  who  CBi^i 
•am  of  Ilia  splendid   mlio.      Ho  pnt«r«  at  the    l<?ft  and 
MS  to  meet   Ihe   Virgin,  who  conies   forward    from    th« 
side  with  two  maiden  companions.     The  dramatic  mo- 
B  very  subtly  chosen,  and  recalls  the  old  mosaic  of  M.  Maris 
ore.     It  is  Simeon's  first  glance  nt  the  wondr<iiis  child, 
ook  of  recognition  and  solemn  joy-     The  child  lift*  WBK 
ful  face  to  the  old  man  with  sweet  wonder.  ^^^^H 

point  of  religious  sentiment  Borgognone's  picttiMtl'^^^^H 
•d  clmracter.     Kir.  Walter  Pater  has  written  of  one  ^^^^| 
h  of  the  Incoronata,  Lodi,  in  which  he  saya  the  ^fflH 
n   "  in  his   most   significantly   religious   mood,''     Moid 
ihle  to  the  public  is  the  picture  in  the  Louvre,  Paris, 
the  figures  are  but  half-length,  and  there  are  no  acces- 
to  divert  the  attention  from  the  solemnity  of  the  occaeioa. 
as  at  Lodi,  we  may  say,  in  Mr.  Pater's  words,  that  "  the 
ony  is  invested  with  all    the  sentiment   of  a  Christian 

ntegna's  Presentation,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  belongs  In 
lace  also,  being,  like  Borgognone's,  a  composition  of  half- 
1  figures.  The  heads  have  the  strong  individuality  which 
ivays  admire  in  the  work  of  this  master,  but  the  babe,  who 
1  be  the  centre  of  interest,  is  so  heavily  swaddled  as  to 
r  like  a  wooden  doll.  The  study  of  Borgognone's  works 
sed  a  strong  influence  upon  the  Swabian  master,  Mar- 
chafiner,  whose  Presentation,  in  the  Munich  Gallery,  is 
j  that  painter's  best  espressioue  of  beauty  and  ppiritunlily. 


Teiaple  (BorgO; 


For  other  German  types  we  may  study  the  b 
at  Dijon,  by  Melchior  Broederlam  (1382-14C 
specimen  of  the  transitional  period,  while 
by  Van  der  Weyden  (Munich  Gallery)  and  I 
sentative  works.  In  these  northern  pictu 
interior  is  of  course  of  Gothic  architecture 
setting  for  so  solemn  a  sceiie.  Meinling's  c 
twice,  one  being  in  the  Prado  Gallery,  Ma 
which  is  finer,  in  St.  John's  Hospital,  Bi 


an*  here,  as  in  the  type  described,  Hary  and  Jowph, 
hoMing  the  IjuIn*  on  a  napkin,  and  Anna  atanding 
They  are  all  tall,  Meiuler  Hgures,  with  the  aerious 
iicftA  KG  characteristic  of  northern  art. 
n  Kcinhrandt  we  have  aonie  notable  oontribationa  to 
ject, —  three  well-known  etchings  and  the  painting  in 
gtu*  MuKcum.  The  plate  of  IGi^)  is  remarkable  for  the 
ctioii  of  a  hovering  angel,  not  above  Simeon,  aa  in 
s  frcsc*o,  hut  1>rHidu  Anna,  into  whoee  ear  he  aeema  to 
r,  |)ointiiig  to  the  cliihl  in  the  arms  of  the  old  man.  In 
Lure  known  as  the  Tresentation  in  the  Vaulted  Temple, 
H  the  i)rii)ci])nl  i>erHoimge,  dominating  the  compoaition 
;r  tally  connnaiuling  presence.  So  often  represented  aa  a 
d  crone,  this  splendid  sihvl  is  a  unique  and  interesting 
Fruin  the  centre  of  the  fK:ene  she  advances  towards 
Id  held  by  Simeon,  who  kneels  on  the  pavement.  The 
itching  is  less  int43resting,  lK*ing  in  Rembrandt's  daric 
The  painting  at  the  Hague  is  a  very  beautiful  work, 
praised  ])y  critics  for  great  qualities  of  composition  and 
niro.  AVe  stand  within  a  splendid  Gothic  temple.  On 
hi  is  tlio  hi<,'li-])riost\s  throno.  reached  by  a  long  flight 
N  at  tlio  fo(it  of  which  steps  is  the  sacred  group,  illumi- 
-)}'  a  flood  of  li^'lit  —  Simeon  with  the  babe,  Mary  and 
,  all  kneeling  before  a  ])ricst  who  stands  with  raised 
The  nol)le  patriarclud  face  of  Simeon  lifted  heaven- 
he  dignified  figure  of  the  priest  in  his  rich  robes,  the 

grandeur  of  the  surroundings,  make  the  scene  deeply 
iive. 
?what  after  the  manner  of  Jlembrandt  is  the  painting 

Dresden  Gallery,^  by  Gerbrand  van  den  Eeckhout. 
oly  Family  have  just  entered  the  temple  wiiere  Simeon 
}  them.  Kneeling  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  he  blesses 
lat  his  eyes  have  seen  salvation.  The  Virgin  kneels 
e,  and  Joseph  stands  beside  them.  At  the  left  is  an 
lie  coming  up  the  stairway,  "while  at  the  right  is  a  group 
sts  among  the  seats.  The  picture  has  none  of  the 
ty  of  an  altar-piece,  but  tells  the  story*  with  homely 
ity. 

Berlin  Gallery  also  contaius  a  Presentation  by  Eeckhout,  which, 
y  the  description  in  the  catalogue,  is  similar  to  this. 


THE   IJSrAI^CY   AND   CHILDHOOD   OF   OUR   LORD  t)J 


V.    The  Adoration  of  the  Magi 

Then  Herod,  when  he  had  privily  called  the  wise  men,  enquired  of  then 
diligently  what  time  the  star  appeared. 

And  he  sent  them  to  Bethlehem,  and  said.  Go  and  search  diligently  for  the 
young  child  ;  and  when  ye  have  found  him,  bring  me  word  again,  that  I  ma^ 
come  and  worship  him  also. 

When  they  had  heard  the  king,  they  departed;  and,  lo,  the  star,  which  the} 
saw  in  the  east,  went  before  them,  till  it  came  and  stood  over  where  the 
young  child  was. 

When  they  saw  the  star,  they  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy. 

And  when  they  were  come  into  the  house,  thej-  saw  the  young  child  witi: 
Mary  his  mother,  and  fell  down,  and  worshipped  him :  and  when  they  hac 
opened  their  treasures,  they  presented  unto  him  gifts;  gold,  and  frankincense, 
and  myrrh. 

And  being  warned  of  God  in  a  dream  that  they  should  not  return  to  Herod, 
they  departed  into  their  own  country  another  way.  —  Matt.  ii.  7-12. 

Four  incidents  are  included  in  the  few  verses  which  tell  the 
story  of  the  Magi :  the  Appearance  of  the  Star ;  the  Intervie\^ 
with  Herod  at  Jerusalem ;  the  Adoration ;  the  Dream.  The 
first  has  already  been  considered.  The  fourth  has  rarely  beer 
noticed  in  art,  though  not  entirely  overlooked.  Quaint  exam- 
ples may  be  seen  on  the  sculptured  fa9ade  of  the  Amiens 
Cathedral,  on  a  window  in  Chartres  Cathedral,  and  on  Gio- 
vanni Pisano's  pulpit,  at  Pistoja. 

The  Three  Kings  before  Herod  is  a  subject  not  infrequent 
in  early  Christian  art,  but  practically  ignored  in  the  paintings 
of  the  Renaissance.  There  are  examples  among  ancient  bas- 
reliefs  which  are  full  of  interest  to  the  student.  The  three 
wise  men  stand  in  file  before  the  king,  who  sits  on  a  throne  a1 
one  side  or  stands  in  armor  between  two  guards.  The  visitors 
are  intent  upon  the  star  to  which  they  point,  while  Heroc 
replies  with  a  gesture.  The  subject  is  also  among  the  mosaics 
of  S.  Maria  Maggiore,  Eome,  and  on  a  twelfth  century  win- 
dow in  the  Chartres  Cathedral. 

The  Adoration  of  the  Kings  marks  the  climax  of  the  story 
and  has  naturally  been  the  subject  usually  chosen  to  represent 
the  entire  incident. 

The  religious  significance  of  the  visit  as  the  manifestation  oj 
Christ  to  the  Gentiles  and  the  romantic  suggestions  of  dis 
play  contained  in  the  mention  of  the  gifts  are  two  reasons  foi 
the  overwhelming  popularity  of  the  subject  in  art.  It  is  t( 
the  first,  doubtless,  that  is  due  the  frequency  of  the  represen 


t'en  U>  t^rcnta  of  ryiiiUilii-  lD<uulU)}^ 
of   llie    liainiiig  "(   I^uuni".  U   in   ]>p<hibly  IIm*  I 
iioong  llio  am  f'-w  BulywU  choMU  fro 

II  apix^i*  ajjuin  and  ai;aio  in  tlf-  frofcoos  of  the 
,  Oil  tliB  ba»-r«li<?[  ortiauieutalioua  of  Mrcopltftf^  aad 
I,  wliati  B>  yet  almuiit  no  otlicr  erenU  of  Cbriet'*  lifa 
toucliMl  by  art, 

«  tiiDon,  twtuh:  legend  had  l^ecome  contaaod  « 
ic  recunl,  grapbiu  art  vws  on  simple  as  Itin  iXoty  i1 


jor  of  wise  men  bt^ing  left  imlefinile,  wi 
'Cemetery  of  SS.    Mnrcellino  e    Pielro),   Bonietjj 
iculum  of  S.  Cecilia),  thougli  tliere  is  h  tendau 
the  mystic  three,  the  number  corresponding  t<ji  \ 
le  aleiider  reaoutces  of  oriental  learning  settled  u 
[ian  cap,  the  tunic  and  mantle  as  the  appropliAtQ  ^ 
lieir  oiferiiigB  were  brought  on  round  plates  o 
ir  age  and  appearance,  art  vros  long  too  crude  to  g 

distinctive  character.  Usually  there  ar 
1  composition  containing  only  the  figures 
I  with  the  Mngi  approaching  in  a  row.     Some  i 

attempts  include  the  manger,  the  os  and  ass,  ' 
anding  by  Mary. 

ei'a  magnificent  work  on  the  "  Storia  della  Arte  C 
'ralo,  1879)  contains  engravings  of  many  interesti] 
of  these  early  representation  b. 
the  lite  of  Christ  is  treated  in  a  series  of  subjects,  t 
,  of  the  Magi  is  never  missing,  I  think,  even 
5st,  aa  the  five  panels  of  a  pulpit  decoration  or  t 
1  of  a  door.  From  the  compositions  in  such  ser 
lerive  a  general  idea  of  the  typical  form  up  to  t 


fifteenth  century,  developed  out  of  its  primitive  simplicity 
not  yet  carried  to  its  final  elaboration.  The  Virgin  sits  in 
pent-house  holding  the  babe  on  her  lap.  The  Magi  are  ap 
eled  as  kings,  three  in  number,  —  an  old  man,  a  middle-a 
man,  and  a  youth.  The  old  man  has  the  place  of  honor,  i 
ally  kneeling  bareheaded,  his  crown  laid  on  the  ground,  w! 
he  kisses  the  foot  (Italian)  or  the  hand  (German)  of  the  Chi 
child.  The  younger  kings,  still  wearing  their  crowns,  aA 
their  turn,  usually  standing,  though  sometimes  one  of  tl 
also  kneels,  as  in  Pisano's  bas-relief  on  the  pulpit  in  the  cai 
dral,  Pisa.  In  the  background  may  be  seen  one  or  more 
the  animals  on  which  they  have  ridden,  horses  or  camels  as 
case  may  be.  In  an  old  German  fresco  (St.  Afra,  Schelkin^ 
Wurtemberg)  the  two  younger  men  remain  on  their  ho 
until  the  oldest,  who  has  dismounted,  shall  have  finished, 
a  bas-relief  in  Christ  Church,  Hampshire,  England,  referre( 
the  reign  of  Edward  III.,  all  three  kings  retain  their  crov 
The  manner  in  which  the  divine  babe  receives  his  guests  va 
with  the  artist.  By  the  more  mystical  painters  he  is  re; 
sented  as  bestowing  a  blessing.  By  others  of  more  reali 
tendencies  he  interests  himself  in  his  gift  as  an  eager  cl 
with  a  new  toy. 

In  the  fifteenth  century  the  fascinations  of  technique  be 
to  take  possession  of  art.     Themes  once  invested  with  sac 
meaning  were  now  used  for  the  pure  display  of  artistic  efFe 
Of  these  none  was  more  tempting  than  the  Adoration  of 
Magi.      In  addition  to  the  central  group  fixed  by  traditi 
there  was  room  for  an  endless  elaboration  in  the  matter  of 
kings'  retinue.     Here  imagination  fairly  ran  riot,  filling 
landscape  with  an  imposing  train  of  camels,  horses,  and  servai 

In  the  Umbrian  school,  Gentile  da  Fabriano's  picture  in 
Florence  Academy,  dated  1423,  is  the  most  conspicuous 
ample  of  this  elaborate  method  of  treatment.  The  pict 
fairly  glitters  with  splendor  in  the  heavy  brocades  of  the  ro 
garments,  in  the  fine  trappings  of  the  horses,  and  in  the  1( 
train  of  attendants  decked  out  in  oriental  fashion.  The  ] 
ture  is  considered  the  masterpiece  of  Gentile ;  and,  by  an  ini 
esting  coincidence,  the  best  work  of  Bonfigli,  an  Umbr 
painter  of  the  following  generation,  is  devoted  to  the  sa 
subject.  The  latter  work  (1460)  is  in  the  public  gallery 
Perugia.     Another  notable  contribution  to  the  subject  is  Pt 


THE  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  OUR  LORD     65 

Pitti/  another  in  the  Uffizi,  and  the  third  and  best  in  the 
Foundling  Hospital.  The  last  is  a  splendid  altar-piece,  being 
an  ideal  rather  than  a  historical  rendering.  The  background 
shows  at  the  right  the  Annunciation  to  the  Shepherds,  and  at 
the  left  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents. 

The  superlative  degree  of  elaboration  was  exhibited  in  the 
Kiccardi  Palace,  whose  walls  were  entirely  covered  with  the 
subject  by  Benozzo  Gozzoli  in  1459.  It  is  a  significant  fact 
that  the  wall  containing  the  Virgin  and  Child  was  sacrificed  at 
a  later  day  for  the  insertion  of  a  window,  leaving  the  magnifi- 
cent procession,  which  was  the  real  object  of  interest,  alone  in 
its  glory. 

The  high-water  mark  of  the  subject  in  Florentine  art,  all 
things  considered,  is  reached  in  the  beautiful  pictures  of  Botti- 
celli and  his  pupil,  Filippino  Lippi,  uniting  exquisite  delicacy 
of  sentiment  with  high  artistic  qualities.  With  Botticelli  the 
subject  was  a  favorite ;  there  are  two  early  examples  in  the 
National  Gallery,  London  (formerly  attributed  to  Filippino 
Lippi),  another  in  the  Hermitage,  St.  Petersburg,  and  a  fourth 
in  the  Ufiizi,  Florence.  The  last  has  a  peculiar  historical 
interest  from  the  Medici  portraits  it  contains  in  the  guise  of 
the  three  kings  who  represent  respectively  Cosimo  de'  Medici, 
Giuliano  de'  Medici,  and  Giovanni,  the  son  of  Cosimo.  The 
lovely  picture  by  Filippino  Lippi  is  also  in  the  Uffizi,  Flor- 
ence, and,  like  Botticelli's,  contains  some  interesting  contem- 
porary portraits.  It  was  painted  in  1496,  and  has  always 
been  admired  for  its  rich  composition  and  strong  devotional 
spirit.  Bonifazio,  Veronese,  and  Tintoretto  are  the  chief  of  the 
Venetians  to  paint  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  and  the  Vene- 
tian style  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  subject.  Tintoretto's 
painting  in  S.  Kocco,  Venice,  has  been  made  famous  by  Bus- 
kin's description  in  the  "  Stones  of  Venice." 

In  fifteenth  century  northern  art  the  simpler  form  of  the 
Adoration  of  the  Magi  was  exemplified  in  the  work  of  Mem- 
ling,  St.  John's  Hospital,  Bruges,  and  Roger  van  der  Weyden 
(Munich  Gallery)  ;  the  more  elaborate  in  the  engravings  of 
Martin  Schon  and  Lucas  van  Leyden.  DUrer,  though  a  little 
later,  retains  the  early  simplicity  in  his  wood-cut  in  the  ^'  Life 
of  the  Virgin,"  and  in  the  painting  of  the  Uffizi.     On  the  other 

1  See  full-page  plate  in  Mrs.  Jameson's  Legends  of  the  Madonna,  p.  256. 


snr.   1.1  FR  OF  OUR  LalRD  VX  ART 

liaii'i,  the  painter  of  the  (*olognc  ilombild  anticipated,  to  some 
•xtonty  tlie  ela))oratene88  of  his  foUowera. 

( 'oniing  to  tho  H<*veuteenth  century,  Rubena  wia  ao  fond  of 
the  Hiihjfct  that  he  tii  rattl  to  have  painted  it  fifteen  times. 
Mm.  •Fatnomui  conHiilored  the  Madrid  picture  the  best,  while 
tito  Frcnrh  critic,  Fromotitin,  givoH  tho  palm  to  the  picture  in 
tho  Church  of  St.  John,  Mechlin. 

<  )f  modern  picturoH  we  may  limit  oumelvofi  to  the  mention 
)f  two,  art  tho  majority  aro  Init  pretty  rf!|)etition8  of  hackneyed 
Italian  tiintifs,  (Miaractor  and  originality  belong  to  the  work 
)f  Hunio-tJonos  and  La  Farg<'.  l^itli  are  adapted  to  decorative 
[niriH)scH,  the  Aniuricaii  work  as  a  fresco  in  the  Church  of  the 
[ncamation,  Xcw  York,  and  the  English  as  a  tapestry  at  £xe- 
^r  (.\)lloge,  Oxford.'  Koligious  sentiment  is  not  on  this 
iccount  sul)onlinatcd,  but,  on  tho  contmry,  both  works  are  per- 
vaded by  a  profound  spirituality.  Altogether  dissimilar  in 
;enoraI  arran^^enicnt,  thoy  have  this  in  common,  that  the  Magi 
iro  led  by  an  angel.  !Many  conturios  l)cfore  the  same  concep- 
ion  bad  boon  wrought  out  in  tbo  crude  workmanship  of  a  few 
Nirly  artists,  as  on  tlic  tbroiu;  of  Uisbop  Maximian,  Ravenna, 
ind  in  tbo  (frock  ^lonolot^Muni  <»f  the  Vatican,  but  in  the  mean 
.line  no  one,  save  only  I>()tticolli,  in  bis  ideal  Nativity  (N"a- 
■ional  (Jallory),  bad  caught  the  suggestion.  Surely  nothing 
lew  and  "  ori^^nnal ''  could  be  better  than  this.  Tn  the  case  of 
I^urne-Jonos  tlio  motif  is  the  natural  sequel  of  the  idea  ex- 
[)ressed  in  the  Angels  leading  a  Sbe})berd  and  a  King,  the 
iVdoration  completing  the  trilogy  thus  ])egun. 

As  the  connection  has  been  noted  between  tbe  Annunciation 
bo  tbe  Shepherds  and  tbe  Annunciation  to  tbe  Magi,  so,  also, 
should  there  be  noted  tbe  relation  between  tbe  two  Adorations. 
We  have  already  seen  bow  tbe  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds 
includes  the  approaching  Magi.  Similarly,  tbe  Adoration  of 
the  Kings  may  include  the  presence  of  tbe  shepherds.  This 
is  seen  in  Francia's  beautiful  picture  of  tbe  Dresden  Gallery. 
Represented  thus,  they  stand  for  Jew  and  Gentile,  ignorance 
ind  "wisdom,  meeting  at  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  a  promise  of 
the  glorious  consummation  when  all  tbe  kingdoms  of  the  earth 
shall  be  gathered  into  one. 

1  The  same  composition  is  in  water-color  at  the  Manchester  Art  School. 


THE   INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  OUR  LORD 

VI.    Joseph's  Dream;  The  Flight;   The  Sojouk 

Egypt  and  Return 

And  when  they  [the  wise  men  J  were  departed,  behold,  the  angel  of  t 
appcareth  to  Joseph  in  a  dream,  saying.  Arise,  and  take  the  young  cl 
his  mother,  and  tlee  into  Egypt,  and  be  thou  there  until  I  bring  the' 
for  Herod  will  seek  the  young  child  to  destroy  him. 

When  he  arose,  he  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother  by  night, 
parted  into  Egypt: 

And  was  there  until  the  death  of  Herod:  that  it  might  be  fulfille 
was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet,  saying,  Out  of  Egypt  have 
my  son.  —  Matt.  ii.  1»3-15. 

Soon  after  the  departure  of  the  wise  men  to  thei 
country,  Joseph  was  for  the  second  time  visited  by  an 
in  a  dream.  The  message  being  entirely  concerned  wi 
safety  of  the  Holy  Child,  the  event  would  seem  of  impc 
in  the  artistic  treatment  of  Our  Lord's  life.  We  have 
Lady  Eastlake's  authority  that  this  was  the  case  in  early 
and  she  cites  as  an  example  a  miniature  in  an  Italian  spe 
of  the  fourteenth  century.  I  also  find  it  in  the  list  o 
jects  illustrated  hi  the  Gotha  Gospel  Book.  On  the 
doors  of  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Michael,  Monte  Santang 
is  likewise  to  be  seen,  treated  somewhat  after  the  mar 
an  early  Nativity.  Joseph  lies  in  a  coffin-like  bed  : 
centre,  while  a  tiny  house  stands  in  the  rear,  in  whic 
sumably  the  mother  and  child  are  lodged.  In  later  ser 
subject  was  replaced  by  the  Flight  into  Egypt,  which 
for  the  same  episode.  We  must  look  then,  for  our  exa 
chiefly  in  independent  pictures,  and  these  are  not  found 
the  seventeenth  century. 

By  Giulio  Cesare  Procaccini,  an  imitator  of  Correggio 
is  a  picture  in  the  Berlin  Gallery  considered  a  good  sp 
of  his  work.  Joseph  sits  at  his  bench  at  the  right 
picture,  and  is  seen  full  front,  his  head  tipped  back 
sleep.  Above  him  an  angel  hangs  vertically  in  the  air 
down  and  wings  extended,  pointing  directly  out  of  the  p 
In  a  rear  apartment  at  the  left  the  Virgin  bends  tenderl 
her  babe. 

Daniele  Crespi,  a  follower  of  the  Procaccini  school,  has  i 
the  same  subject  in  a  picture  now  in  the  Belvedere  G 
Vienna.  Two  rooms  are  represented,  —  one  a  workshop 
Joseph  is  asleep,  and  another,  beyond,  where  Mary  v 


S^Uld.     Tho  ui(;el  >ceini  to  nwalceu  JoMjili  i 
mother  and  bali«.     ]u  tli«  urue  t>idl»rT  i»  wu 
rork  by  Giordano,  who  varies  tb«  cuiui>oution  bgr  a 
Virgin  kneeling  at  her  jirayera. 
another  picture  treating  thia  aubject  i^  to  be  i 
odere  Uallory,  a  comp<ieition  tn  the  style  of  Hontl 
he  Italinna  callod  Glieranlu  dalle  N'otti.     Agahl  i 
joily  nro  together  in  an  interior,  Joseph  sitting  ■  ~ 
1  viaitor  laying  n  hand  on  hia  ahouliier,  Moij  hx  I 
md,  with  tho  balw  nl  lior  breimt. 
raudt,  OS  woiiM  ho  oxi>octud,  Iibk  not  let  slip  this  o 
ir  jMuiting  a  night  scono.      Ilia  pit^tiim  i»  in  ttia  I 
and  is  in  his  honicliuat  vnin  of  realism, 
ent  to  the  heavenly  viaion,  .Tuhl*|jIi  nise  by  ni{^  i 

on  his  way  with  tho  mollier  and  uhild.     The  I 
^pt  is  an  attractive  and  indiEpensiihlu  sul^eot  1 
irtant  aeries  of  the  liistory  of  Our  Lord,  aiid  is,  i 
ften  treated  bs  a  distinct  composition.     In  the  typj 
tation,  Mary  rides  an  ass,  holding  her  babe  in  her  a] 
onreale  mosaic,  Joseph  carries  the  child  on  his  she 

is  very  unusual,  as  commonly  his  office  is  to  | 
I.      Often  an  angel  leads  the  way,  as  if  the  niaa 
li's  dream  was  still  charged  with  their  protection. 
i  enveloped  in  a  heavy  mantle,  and  holds  her  I 
touching  tenderness  which  conveys   the  idea  of  i 
a  and  danger  of  the  flight, 
the  various  series  mentioned  in  our  introduction,  1 

the  subject  is  particularly  successful  are  Gaudeal 

at  Varallo,  Giotto's  at  Padua,  and  I'ra  Angelico's 
«nce  Academy.  The  first  two  contain  the  guid 
lit  the  Florentine  monk  gives  the  simplest  ] 
ation  of  the  event.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  1 
^ith  that  of  Melchior  Broederlam  (in  the  altar-p' 
),  who,  a  century  earlier,  and  in  a  northern  counti; 

similar  note  of  quiet  and  tender  simplicity, 
icture  in  the  S.  Kocco  series  is  not  carefully  paint« 
markiible  for  the  beauty  of  the  landscape  and  the  hea 

xlem  art  a  very  celebrated  picture  of  the  subject  i 
Mv.  Holman  Hunt,  the  English  pre-Eaphaelite, 
n  1888,  and  widely  known  as  "  the  greatest  religi 


THK    INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD    OF    OL'K    LOllIi      I 


picture  of  our  lime."     Joseph  wiilks  in  advance.  leading] 
rope  B  fine  Mecca  asa.     Sitting  thereon,  in  robust  1 
the  young  Virgin,  as  great  a  contrast  to  the  delicate  t 
shrouded  figure  of  earlier  ait  aa  Ib  her  gleefat  boy 


Till.-  Flight 


u  Egj-i«  l(;i.,ll../ 


lied  baba  of  tradition.  No  trace  of  anxiety  is  in  their 
er,  no  element  of  pathos  in  their  Bituation.  All  f^ar  of 
!t  Ih  forgotten ;  the  mother's  face  in  aglow  with  happiiiesB  j 
my  is  laughing  joyously.  About  them  circle  a  company 
by  flgureB  representing  the  spiritual  triumph  of  thelniio- 
Wliile  this  mystical  element  transfers  the  subject  froiu 
istoricai  to  the  ideal  realm,  great  pains  are  token,  to  follow 
fical  acuracy  in  the  treatment  of  details, 
most  all  the  separate  pictures  of  the  Flight  into  Egypt 
leal  and  legendary  in  eharncter  and  betotig  more  properly 
i  legends  of  the  Madonna  than  to  the  life  of  Our  Lord. 
Jameson  has  fully  treated  the  subject  on  pp.  268-275 
ir  work  on  the  Madonna.  The  reader  is  also  referred  to 
ame  authority  for  the  Eepose  in  Egypt,  a  purely  ideal 
ct.     The  Sojourn  in  Egypt  has  sometimes  been  treated 


THE   INFANCY   AND  CHILDHOOD   OF  OUR  LORD 

ill  art.  Diirer's  wood-cut,  in  the  series  of  the  "  Life  of 
Virgin,"  is  well  known,  showing  a  quaint  little  German  sc( 
with  angels  playing  about.  Tissot's  illustration  in  the  "  I 
of  Christ "  is  a  striking  picture  of  an  Egyptian  town  on  i 
!N^ile.  Mary  is  one  of  a  group  of  women  returning  from  1 
river,  with  a  water-pot  on  her  head.  She  carries  on  her  1 
arm  her  boy,  now  about  two  years  old. 

The  next  Dream  of  Joseph  is  almost  never  seen  in  i 
An  exceptional  instance  is  in  the  bas-relief  panel  on  the  do 
of  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Michael,  Monte  Santangelo,  where  1 
composition  is  almost  identical  with  the  one  which  represe 
the  preceding  vision.  Of  the  Return  from  Egypt  Mrs.  James 
mentions  a  few  rare  pictures.^ 

VII.  The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents 

Then  Herod,  when  he  saw  that  he  was  mocked  of  the  wise  men,  was  exec 
ing  wroth,  and  sent  forth,  and  slew  all  the  children  that  were  in  Bethleh< 
and  in  all  the  coasts  thereof,  from  two  years  old  and  nnder,  according  to 
time  which  he  had  diligently  enquired  of  the  wise  men. 

Then  was  fulfilled  that  which  was  spoken  by  Jeremy  the  prophet,  sayin/ 
In  Rama  was  there  a  voice   heard,  lamentation,  and  weeping,  and  gi 
mourning,  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  and  would  not  be  comforted, 
cause  they  are  not.  —  Matt.  ii.  16-18. 

While  the  Holy  Family  were  safely  on  their  way  to  Egy 
the  horrible  tragedy  was  being  enacted  in  Bethlehem  a 
vicinity  known  as  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents.  In  a  larj 
historical  sense,  this  event,  which  had  for  its  sole  object  t 
destruction  of  the  infant  Christ,  is  a  pivotal  event  in  the  1 
of  Our  Lord.  This  fact,  however,  would  not  necessarily  ma 
it  a  subject  of  art.  As  the  Holy  Child  had  no  part  in  1 
scene,  and  the  circumstances  are  in  themselves  so  shocking 
the  imagination,  we  should  set  them  down  as  totally  unfitt 
for  artistic  purposes.  But  here  is  a  case  where  a  priori  r 
soning  counts  for  nothing.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  and  contrf 
to  all  the  art  instincts  of  our  own  day,  the  Massacre  of  t 
Innocents  was  once  an  exceedingly  frequent,  not  to  say  poj 
lar,  subject  in  art.  It  is  in  almost  all  the  important  histori 
series  of  Our  Lord's  life,  appearing  even  when,  as  in  the  scu 
tured  pulpits  of  the  Pisani,  only  a  few  subjects  are  taken 
representative  of  the  whole  Christian  cycle.      From  the  midc 

1  See  Legends  of  the  Madonna^  p.  283. 


iftnriilli  cBMury  thiougli  tbii  _ 

BHci.-  it  wa>  klau  often  tn*t«(l  ui  u  M-purattt  comiMatioib 
tend  fcAtunw  of  »uoh  cwmpoitioiiii  amy  be  vrt;  briefly 
IliToJ  u  tuiudly  pniwnt,  UBiiiii)(  bin  onlcni  from  an 
I  tkroufl  or  Iwlooity.  Kelow  liim  U  tlio  slauglit«r, 
tooring  bebos  from  tli»  anat  of  temliod  motlHm  to 
them  witb  tbe  swonl,  amoug  tbvin  oiio  wunwa  Ltmi^Rt- 
denil  chilli,  a«  the  llgiire  of  "  KacUel  neepiiif;  for  hor 
I."  tiiKh  n  tiiamp,  treated  witb  crnd«  technique,  can 
1  grot«wiu<-;  lrpnt«ui  vrilh  gemiino  dnmatic  poirer,  it 
!tHI>K'  to  coiilouiplntv. 

:  ijtsiglit  iiitfl  thn  early  childish  spirit  of  interpretatioo 
gaiuud  from  the  pictures  by  Mntteo  di  Uiovanm,  in 
rith  wboiii  tlii'  grucsoioe  subject  wna  o  BpH>cial  favorite, 
s  oiiu  of  tht'Bu  in  the  ('burch  of  H.  Agoatino,  and  an- 
I  S.  Maria  dei  Servi.  Etthar  vrnuld  make  a  capital 
ioii  for  a  hoy's  book  of  famous  giant*,  ami  one  can' 
the  ecelatic  Bhivern  of  horror  they  would  produce  in 
ithful  reader.  Herod  is  repreaented  as  a  huge  giant, 
Mcphistophelian  leer,  looking  on  at  the  spectacle  from 
at«d  throne  at  one  side.  Iklow.  the  excimtioners  hack 
their  work,  grinning  with  fiendish  delight.  Through 
I  gate  in  the  rear  the  children  of  the  palace  look  on 
liles  of  innocent  pleasure  as  at  a  fCte.  The  childish 
»tion  of  style  tranefonna  the  incident  from  a  historic 
into  a  fairy  tale, 

3  is  a  picture  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  by 
no,  in  the  Dotia  Gallery,  Rome,  interesting  from  show- 
Holy  Family  in  tlie  distant  landscape.  They  have 
to  rest  in  their  flight,  and  ministering  angels  attend 
Meanwhile  villainous  men  and  shrieking  women  fill 
or  part  of  the  composition  with  horror, 
tfational  Gallery  contains  two  pictures  of  the  sut:iject 
^etto  which  were  formerly  the  wings  of  a  triptych, 
e  in  the  traditional  style,  and  are  "  coarse  and  cxagger- 
expreasion."  An  engraving  by  Mare  Antonio  after  a 
.ttrihuted  to  Raphael  ia  an  exceptionally  fine  treatment 
icult  subject.  Mrs.  Jameson,  who  admired  this  very 
las  described  it  as  follows :  "  Tiie  classical  elegance  of 
ngement,  the  perfection  of  the  drawing,  and  the  pathos 
entiment,  almost  redeem  the  horror  of  the  subject,  so 


THE   INFANCY  AND   CHILDHOOD   OF  OUR  LORD 

that,  as  in  everything  by  Raphael,  the  sense  of  beauty 
umphs  over  all.  The  scene  is  a  paved  court  with  building 
the  background ;  there  are  eight  women  and  five  executioi 
the  principal  group  on  the  left  is  a  soldier,  who,  having 
drawn  his  sword,  is  rushing  forward  and  has  seized  a  chil 
the  leg,  while  the  mother,  clasping  it  to  her  bosom,  turn 
fly,  looking  back  in  horror.  In  another  group,  more  to 
left,  a  dead  child,  of  pathetic  beauty,  lies  on  the  ground,  a 
mother,  kneeling,  holds  back  her  terrified  infant  with  one 
while  with  the  other  extended  she  tries  to  defend  him  fr( 
furious  soldier.'' 

VIII.  The  Child  Jesus  in  the  Temple 

Now  his  parents  went  to  Jerusalem  every  year  at  the  feast  of  the  pass 

And  when  he  was  twelve  years  old,  they  went  up  to  Jerusalem  afte 
custom  of  the  feast. 

And  when  they  had  fulfilled  the  days,  as  they  returned,  the  child 
tarried  behind  in  Jerusalem;  and  Joseph  and  his  mother  knew  not  of  it. 

But  they,  supposing  him  to  have  been  in  the  company,  went  a  day's  jou 
and  they  sought  him  among  their  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance. 

And  when  they  found  him  not,  they  turned  back  again  to  Jerusalem,  se« 
him. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  after  three  days  they  found  him  in  the  te 
sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  doctors,  both  hearing  them,  and  asking  them 
tions. 

And  all  that  heard  him  were  astonished  at  his  understanding  and  ans-w 

And  when  they  saw  him,  they  were  amazed:  and  his  mother  said  unto 
Son,  why  hast  thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ?  behold,  thy  father  and  I  have  s< 
thee  sorrowing. 

And  he  said  uato  them,  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?  wist  ye  not  t 
must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ? 

And  they  understood  not  the  saying  which  he  spake  unto  them. 

And  he  went  down  with  them,  and  came  to  Nazareth,  and  was  subject 
them:  but  his  mother  kept  all  these  sayings  in  her  heart.  —  Luke  ii.  41- 

Of  the  long  period  between  the  return  of  the  child  J 
from  Egypt  and  his  appearance  as  a  man  among  the  Bapi 
hearers,  the  single  incident  recorded  by  the  Evangelist  i 
peculiar  interest  in  Christian  art  as  well  as  in  Christian  f 
The  story  of  a  boy  of  twelve  lost  in  the  crowd  of  a  great 
tival  season,  anxiously  sought  during  three  days,  and  four 
last  in  the  temple  calmly  discussing  the  subjects  of  relij 
has  precisely  the  dramatic  quality  which  appeals  to  the  arl 
imagination.  The  boy's  mysterious  answer  to  his  mot! 
reproaches  adds  a  religious  significance  to  the  event  .w 


trb«a 


ridbiff  una  Mtmwn  hvis 
]  ooinjilpU-  iiamliti-  iwgg 

wiuU  ImiLiiiiiul.     TImi  1 1 

ia  Urn  titl«  of*  pniu 

thp  buy,  walking  botu 
to  a  poitil  on  tl»  niouiU'iui  i<.>  > 
;|imiiMti>f  tlio  Holy  C'ily.      IW-' 
toricAl   rii>t(iRu,  Iia«  i«|ift^arnl«il    > 
Filling  in  ■  limg  mraviin  of  (Hlo" 
m  ibijw*  that  nitimrnt  in  tlirir  boint 
uilhia  dim.tivn%  tlie  luw  of  Iicr  buy.     Stic  >tnit't>-  in  th* 
uuiul  uhmhu^  lier  uyi^a  witli  ber  band  and  p  inng  uu- 

along  the  windini;  truiii  in  nt-aniU  of  hor  rbill 
riat  alone  witli  tbi-  Doctuw  is  a  aubject  mmlv  En-atml  in 
iler  art.     Via  llnd  it  in  un  idtaliic^'i  form  in   [)<>^  famous 
*   iu   the  National   Gallery,  I^mloii,    on^iv   nvMgnn)    lo 
,r<Jo  da  Vinci  but  now  attributed  to  I.uini.     Th«  Cb^^ 
wevor,  no  boy  of  twelve,  btit  a  tbniigbtful  yuuth,     SlTL 
I  in  tbc  midilk  looking  out  at  the  simctnlor.     Two  doS?^ 
re  on  cacli  eido,  iind  all  the  tigiiroa  uro  in  liiilf-ltiogtli. 
ictly  siiniliu-  iu  nivtbrnl  uf  omngi^iiKMit,  but  imintttnij^ 
1  in  spirit,  is  tbc  [uiinting  attribulcd    to  AlliL-rt  Duni 
t  Itarberiiii  Oullcry,  Itoine.     Here  tlio  CliriBt-oliild  iaJ|Jj 
I,  girtibli  little  ligure,  wliose  cliildiah  grace  is  britugbt  i^^H 
ve  coiitraHt  with  the  ehrewd  foxy  old  faues.  six  in  afl^| 
Hiding  him.  1H 

an  entirely  different  style  are  three  etj'.hinga  by  BewfiB 
t  treated  with  charaoteriHtic  realism.  The  scene  ie  ^fl9 
e  interior,  with  the  doctors  seated  at  tables  or  standiBi3| 
.itudes  of  eager  interest.  Their  appearance  dues  not  BV^^9 
icbolarship,  or  even  shrewdness,  but  they  are  of  ttvMI 
on  hiu'ly    Dutch  type.     The  child   is  a   pathetic  littl^a 

seated  among  them,  or  standing  at  one  Ride  tu  addnMlfl 

accompanying  his  words  with  expressive  geaturea  ttM 
nation.  1 

ming  to  the  pictures  of  our  own  day,  Professor  Hofmann'r'n 
doubtedly  one  of  the  most   popvikr   wnrka  in   modem 
I  art,  and  justly   ko,  ns  a  noble  and  truthful  interpre- 

of  the  Gospel  narrative.     The  hoy  is  here  not  a  teacher, 


but  a  seeker  after  triilli.  Lifting  liia  frauk  young  fate  to 
sages  about  him,  lie  is  a  perfect  impersonatioD  of  the  spir 
reverent  inquiry,  wliile  in  hia  flaabiug  eyes  we  read  that  pi 
of  understanding  ■which  so  astoaiahed  hia  bearers.  The  p; 
iiig  is  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 

Other  modern  Germans  liave  essayed  the  same  siibjec 
a  somewhat  similar  style  but  with  iiiucli  less  Buecese,  —  Me 
(1851),  Zimmerman  (1879),  and  Liebermann{1879j.  Ind 
ing  their  types  from  contemporaueoua  Jewish  life,  they  1 


traiiBlatcd  into  uninteresting  prose  an  incident  which  bel 
essentially  to  tlie  realm  of  poetry. 

The  most  ilramatic  moment  of  the  story  is  the  discovei 
Jesus  by  Mary  and  Joseph,  and  this  is  the  basis  of  most  i 
priaitioiis  Ijeariug  the  title  Christ  among  the  Doctors,  the 
they  would  be  more  properly  called,  Christ  Found  in 
Temple. 


Q  cycle,  but 

uh  to  La  df  mnlisvat  origin.  It  b  in  th«  inoaaica  uf 
rnrtsale,  and  it  appcnre  occamniiBlty  in  illiiBiitiAtMl  nuiiu- 
IpU,  KxAmplR*  ore  in  Ihe  MS.  uf  St.  Gregoty  of  Jiwdau- 
1  (National  Library,  I'nri*) ;  in  tliu  G(w|)«I  1look«  at  ftlaoidi 
1  Trier,  and  in  a  tw*l(t]i  oentury  Greolc  US.  of  U)o  VatkaA 
tffary. 

An  a  subject  in  historical  mirioB  of  Our  Lont'a  lite  it  ia 
Qoat  ni^ver  niiwing,  Iriiin  Itiirnu  and  Uiotio  ili>wii  to  our 
n  time.  It  is,  umrvovur,  uttvii  found  among  the  subjects 
the  lifn  of  tli>^  Virttin;  uml,  liistly,  it  hnf  \xea  a  fnronte 
l)JMt  for  independent  pictures.  The  scone  is  usually  the 
aplii  interior.  In  tlie  carliur  typcH,  I'xemplified  in  the  eeries 
Ghiberli,  Giotto,  GfuUli,  Duccio,  uiid  t'ra  Angelico,  the  child 
seated  on  u  chair  ur  throne,  or  oven  a  oimple  bench  on  a 
;her  leval  than  hix  auditom.  He  has  the  appearance  of  a 
niatiin-  priest,  and  ia  sagely  dictating  his  doctrines  to  the  a»- 
ushed  acrib<!H  Hittin){  humbly  about  him,  as  Joseph  and  Mary 
ter  at  one  side.  IJiicnio's  compoMtion  is  one  of  the  best  of 
s  clasH,  full  of  earnest  dramatic  feeling.  The  six  doctois 
iged  at  tha  sides  in  two  lines  have  all  finely  expressive  heads, 
•a  young  teacher,  sitting  on  the  platform,  turns  his  head  with 
[nity  towards  hie  parents,  who  hasten  in  with  ontct retched 
nd.  (Sim«). 

In  the  composition  of  the  Cinque  Cento  be  stands,  and, 
ough  still  retaining  an  air  of  authority,  he  is  unmistakably 
;hild. 

Pinturicchio'a  fresco,  among  the  three  famous  works  painted, 
1500,  for  the  Collegiate  Church  at  Spello,  shows  the  trail' 
ion  from  the  earlier  and  more  formal  conception  to  the 
turalistic  method.  The  temple,  by  an  unusuu]  departure 
im  traditional  standards,  is  in  the  background.  It  ia  a  fine 
maissance  structme  modeled  upon  the  design  seen  in  the 
csalizio  of  Perugino  and  Kaphael.  The  child  stands  on  the 
irble  pavement  in  front,  —  a  tiny  figure  in  a  dark  purple  tunic 
th  a  light  blue  drapery  thrown  over  it.  At  his  feet  lie  the 
oka  of  the  law  which  he  has  come  to  fulfill.  He  raises  his 
nda,  laying  his  finger-tips  together  as  in  explanation.  The 
teners  are  grouped  about  in  attitudes  appropriate  to  tha 
tke-up  of  a  large  coinpositiou  and  without  any  relation  to 
e  wistful  little  figure  standing  apart  in  the  centre. 


Dccacciv  ccnccwo  tnasfeTs  tbo  KUie  to  the  inlvrior  i 
temple,  ulneb  u  a  umtUe  ixtiiedfal  iu  the  st^'lc  of  hi 
day.  The  child  is  a  di«aiu}'-«jretl  Iwy  staiidiii^j  in  tb 
si  ua'  ui     I     ude  of  diacuiKUtn.     Doctors  are  gruupe 

ivr  sto  kTgmuenl ;  others  stand  about  luteniqg 

t  and  li  t  fruni  the  left  in  Uio  rear,  the  uotlier' 

li  ciOMM  aaonngly  u|i>ni  Imr  hreast.  The  work  ia  tin 
of  the  Mtri«s  of  frwoo*  in  Did  (.'iviiiona  (.'atbvdnLl  illuatnt 
he  life  uf  ttie  Virgin. 

auolino  (Itcrlia  Uallery)  givM  the  Ohrixt  a  mor^  definili 
icter  at  au  cinitor.  l-'roiu  hJN  Mut  at  tlic  ri^lit  hv  IvtM 
^ly  forward  with  a  ]>leiu>ed  ninile  on  liia  boyish  face 
ra's  iiaiiitiuK  In  th«  BelvtHlure  (iallery,  Vieuna,  id  in  a  lik< 
jUauduiiiio  Furrarl  makeit  the  uiuther'a  )>nrt  in  tht 
■  more  [ironihii'nl,  and  for  hia  inotij'  reverta  ta  (iiotu 
Duccto  allowing  her  stretching  out  both  arms  tiiwardi 
ion.  The  Christ  is  a  tall,  graceful  boy  with  a  pure  fa« 
I  earneatly  as  he  speaks  to  the  puiteled  Hadieuce  ubotil 
The  picture  is  a  fresco  in  S.  Maria  delle  Orasie,  Vamllo. 
was  painted  in  1513. 

aini  goes  much  farther  and  introduces  llic  Virgin  into  tht 
centre  of  the  scene,  addri'&sing  ht'r  inqiiiiics  to  lier  son, 
boy  is  a  veritable  prince  standing  on  a  sort  of  throne, 
1  exqui'iita  courtesy  he  turns  to  his  mother,  replying  with 
nplc  dignified  gesture  to  her  question.  There  are  othei 
igurcH  in  the  composition,  but  on  these  two  —  the  beautiful 
ler  and  her  handsome  boy  —  all  the  interest  centres.  (Ii 
Sarcinno  frescoes,  1525.) 

lie  same  motif  was  adopted  by  Dlirer  in  the  "  Life  of  the 
in."  To  the  same  class  also  belongs  Mr.  Holman  Hunt't 
ing  of  the  Saviour  in  the  Temple,  now  in  the  art  gallery 
irniingham,  England.  In  this  remarkable  picture,  one  of 
iiost  representative  works  of  English  ])re-Kapha elitism,  we 
ntroduced  into  a  scene  which  we  nmy  confidently  accept 
correct  reproduction  of  the  Jewish  temple  in  the  first 
iry,  Seven  rahbia  are  seated  on  a  semicircular  divan 
irious  attitudes  of  attention  and  interest  which  the  strange 
i  questions  have  aroused.  At  the  right  Joseph  and  Mary 
:  the  lost  child  with  rejoicing.  The  mother  draws  him 
sr  in  an  agony  of  tenderness,  but  he,  still  absorbed  in  his 
ns,  receives  her  caresses  in  a  sort  of  wondering  submis- 


THE  INFANCY  AND   CHILDHOOD   OF  OUR  LORD 

siveness,  as  if  his  surprised  question,  as  yet  unspoken,  vi 
framing  itself  in  his  mind. 

Mary  and  Joseph  leading  Jesus  forth  from  the  temph 
the  subject  of  Tissot's  large  water-color  illustration  in  the  "  1 
of  Christ."  The  Holy  Family  are  walking  across  the  pa 
court  at  the  foot  of  the  temple  stairs.  The  child  is  betw 
them  and  in  front  of  them,  one  outstretched  hand  held 
each,  while  they  gaze  wonderingly  down  at  him.  With  i 
face  and  visionary  eyes  he  advances  like  a  somnambulist,  o] 
if  in  a  hypnotic  trance. 

The  Return  of  Jesus  to  Nazareth  was  a  subject  included 
Giotto  in  the  Assisi  series  and  treated  with  the  simple  m 
ralism  which  gives  the  old  painter  his  perennial  charm.  Jos' 
leads  the  way,  the  boy  laying  his  hand  confidingly  on. his  foi 
father's  arm ;  Mary  follows,  her  face  full  of  contentment. 
Rembrandt  there  is  an  etching,  of  1654,  representing  the  si 
subject.  The  child  is  led  between  his  parents  and  looks 
into  his  mother's  face  as  he  walks. 

Rubens  has  also  treated  the  theme  in  a  painting  descri 
in  the  "  Legends  of  the  Madonna  "  (p.  307),  and  now  to 
seen  in  the  Metropolitan  Art  Gallery,  New  York,  where  i 
catalogued  as  the  Return  from  Egypt. 


THE   PREPARATION  FOB   THE   irTNTSTRT 
I.  The  Pkeachiko  of  St.  John    tiik   liAiriaT 

lOH  days  eune  John  the  BaptIM,  )irrichinK  in  iliv  uildenie^  of  Juds*. 
■lying,  Repent  ye  :  for  the  kiDgdom  nf  lieaveii  if.  at  haoil. 
this  i>  he  that  wu  spoken  of  by  the  prophet  ICialas,  Hiyln^,  llie  VMce  «I 
fing  in  the  wildemesa,  Prepare  ye  the  way  <■!  ilie  Liird,  make  hiii  pallia 

(he  same  John  had  hii  raiment  of  camel'i-  hnir,  ami  a  leathern  ^nUe 
his  loins  ;  and  his  meat  was  locusts  and  wild  !i<iuiry. 
1  went  out  to  him  Jeroaaleoi,  and  all  Judsea,  uinl  all  the  rcfciuii  Tounit 

were  baptized  of  him  in  Jordan,  confessing  thtir  sIik. 

when  be  saw  many  of  the  Pharisees  and  SadiliL-ro  toiii.'  tii  Ins  bapluill. 


It  God  ia  able  of  thesi 


bringeth  nut  forth  good  fruil  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  lire, 
lead  baptize  you  with  water  unto  repenlancc  :  but  he  that  comcth  after 
nightier  than  I,  whose  shoes  I  am  not  worthy  Ui  bear  :  he  shall  baptize 
th  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  with  (ire  : 

ise  fan  Ie  in  his  hand,  and  he  will  tbronj^bly  puige  his  floor,  and  gather 
eat  into  the  gamer  ;  but  he  will  burn  up  the  uhalf  with  unquenchable 
Matt,  iil.  1-12. 

,0M  childhood  to  youth  and  from  youth  to  manhood,  the 
f  Our  Lord  moved  on  uneventfully  in  the  little  Galilean 
of  Nazareth,  until  the  occurrence  of  the  singular  circum- 
i  which  drew  him.  forth  from  his  obscurity.  In  the  wU- 
S8  about  the  river  Jordan  was  heard  a  Voice  calling  to 
tance.  Jerusalem  and  all  Judiea  were  roused  by  the 
,ge,   and  among  those   who  gathered  aljout  John  came 

e  Preaching  of  the  Baptist  is  of  course  an  important  art 
3t  in  any  historical  series  treating  St.  John's  life.  The 
nt  in  St.  Matthew's  Gospel  gives  an  opportunity  for  sev- 
.11  list  rations.      In  the  Scalzo  series,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto, 


THE  PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY 

and  in  the  San  Severino  series  at  Urbino,  we  have  the 
subjects,  —  John  preaching  to  the  People,  and  John  bapti 
the  People.  Pisano  goes  farther  and  distinguishes  bet^ 
the  prophet's  general  preaching  to  a  miscellaneous  com] 
and  his  words  of  denunciation  against  the  Pharisees  and 
ducees.  In  both  cases  John  stands  opposite  a  group  of 
listeners,  his  gesture  to  the  Pharisees  being  one  of  expl 
tion,  pointing  upward,  while  to  the  common  people  he  pc 
out  the  Christ  appearing  in  the  rear.  In  other  series,  a 
those  of  Ghirlandajo  and  Filippo  Lippi,  the  artist  sums  up 
story  in  the  single  subject  of  the  Preaching  of  John  the  ! 
tist.  In  general  features  these  compositions  do  not  d 
greatly.  Ghirlandajo's  may  be  taken  as  a  type.  The  Prea 
stands  on  an  elevation  in  the  centre  of  a  landscape,  while 
audience  sit  on  the  ground  about  him,  the  women  in  one  gi 
and  the  men  in  another.  We  note  at  once  the  dissimih 
between  his  figure  and  the  traditional  type  made  familiar  t 
through  devotional  pictures.  In  the  latter,  as  in  Bottice 
Enthroned  Madonna,  at  Berlin,  and  in  Raphael's  Poligno 
donna  of  the  Vatican  Gallery,  the  Baptist  is  a  strange,  ' 
figure,  gaunt  and  unkempt.  Here  he  is  a  handsome,  dign 
personage  with  long  curling  hair  falling  to  his  shoulders.  ( 
his  hairy  shirt  he  wears  a  red  robe  with  a  green  mantle  dn 
on  his  right  arm.  He  carries,  as  usual,  the  tall,  slender 
cross  in  his  left  hand,  and  seems  to  point  to  it  with  his  ri 
In  the  background  at  the  left  Our  Lord  is  seen  slowly  ad 
cing  with  bowed  head. 

The  introduction  of  the  figure  of  Christ  is  not  invaris 
but  is  frequent  in  the  subject.  In  Pisano's  bas-relief 
approaches  at  the  left,  and  the  Preacher,  with  pointing  hi 
directs  the  attention  of  the  people  to  him.  In  Andrea 
Sarto's  composition  he  kneels  in  the  distant  background. 

In  northern  art  the  subject  was  often  chosen  for  single 
tures,  especially  by  landscape  artists.  Examples  in  the  Be 
(lere  Gallery,  Vienna,  are  by  Bles  and  Marten  van  He( 
kerck ;  in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  by  Peter  Brueghel  d.  j., 
Philip  Wouverman,  and  by  one  of  Cranach's  school ;  in 
Munich  Gallery,  by  Jan  Brueghel  d.  a. 

Rembrandt  has  treated  the  subject  with  characteristic  v 
and  realism.  The  Baptist  stands  on  an  eminence  at  the  ri 
raising  his  right  hand  in  gesticulation  and  laying  the  lef 


»st.     iiD   is  tt   ba^anl    fnnatic,   dominAling 
personality  the  group  of  uncouth  li^Uiicrs 
"nil  about  him.     (Iterlin  Gallerj'.) 

>>'^  Baptist  is  one  of  iho  iiibjecU  in 
leigns  by  Aniiibulu  CiinKci. 


seated  ^n 


II.   Tbe  Baptism  op  Orn  Lord 

■MiBih  .lii«u»  (ri.m  <lalili<ii  i»  Ji.nlHii  iiutu  Jolm,  l»  be  bapUsad 

An  furbwl  iiim,  siiyli>Hi  I  bsvv  ikviI  to  lit>  baiilf^"!  "f  ItKiVj  Ud  Hnl 
n«7 

sing  ■nsn-ering  wid  untn  liiin,  tiluS«r  It  l<i  hr  M>  nuw  :  (or  IhU  it  f 
.9  lo  fulfil  all  right euinnes*.    Then  he  nifkKd  him.  ""  - 

SBUS,  wliun  hu  was  bnpllmid,  wwil  uji  »tn([(fhlw»y  nut  of  IlMWtNJ 
the  besveng  were  upfnvil  untu  hltn,  tiid  he  HW  th«  Spirit  of  fi 
ng  lihe  s  dove,  and  lighting  ujinn  him  :  ' 

K  vnice  from  heaven,  nyiag,  Tliie  is  ray  belavcd  Son,  In  irlMMiiIi 
md.  — Matt.  iii.lS-lT. 

Lord's  appearance  among   the  Baptist's  listenera  in 

idldate  for  baptism.     John's  protest  being  set  aeida,  Uj 

rite  was  perforrnod  in  the  river  Jorilaii,  and  celeatia] 
;tested  the  Father's  approval.     The  event  marks  at 
Iraination  of  John's  work  and  the   beginning  of  OttJs 

the  point  from  which  one  wns  to  decrease  as  the  otbeV 
3d.     As   such  it  has  been  considered  an  indispeusah)^ 

in  all  the  historical  art  series  treating  the  lives  of  both^. 
jrther,  looked  at  as  the  divine  establishment  of  a  peiv 

sacrament  in  the  Christian  Church,  the  subject  ba^. 
■om  early  times  the  keynote  in  the  decoration  of  eTefyi 
jry;  introduced  into  the  mosaics  of  the  apse  and  thej 
}  on  the  walls,  in  the  sculptured  groups  over  altars  and'< 

and  in  the  bas-reliefs  ornamenting  the  fonts.  Thua^ 
B,  all  told,  an  enormons  number  of  art  representations' 

event.     The  tecbnical  difficulties  of  the  subject  were,. 

sfirions  obstacles  in  the  path  uf  the  early  artist,  but  these 

deter  him  from -his  task,  and  his  solution  of  the  problem 
■  scenery  is  extremely  interesting  and  often  very  amus- 
n  some  early  pictures  the  water  is  represented  by  a  series 
!lel  lines  drawn  horizontally  across  the  composition  be- 
:wo  angular  hanks  rising  abruptly  at  the  sides,  Exam- 
«  seen  in   Che  catacomb  of  iSt.  Pontianus  and  in  the 


THE    PltEPABATIO.N    FOH    THE    MI»ISTKY  i 

baptistery  of  the  Eavenna  Cathedral.  In  other  cases,  especial 
in  the  norti  the  r'ver  's  a  s'ligle  con'cal  wa  'e,  standing  ov 
the  Sa  o  r  a  fa^  re  and  rpach  n^  to  1  ■^  va  st  or  even  to  1" 
shoulders  a  d  lop  ng  abr  ptly  on  each  b  de  The  Baptie 
on  the  (jaeta  c 

As  a  rel  c     f  pagan  im  a  d    in  F  sk  n  s   opinion, 


of  t 


expresBion  of  the  beneftcent  power  of  the  river,  soi 
early  compositions  contain  the  figure  of  the  nver^od  reclini 
nnder  the  Mater  As  time  HPiit  on  the  river  became  nii 
and  more  shallow  until  m  the  tjpieal  picture  of  the  Itali 
Renaissance  it  co\ers  only  the  Saviour's  feet,  thus  affording 


f,  so  cDJoyed  by  the  clevei-  piiiiter,  foi  a  study  uf  ttio 

■d  almost  always  stands  in  iii<<  mntn>  of  the  coiupo- 
I  face  turned  towards  the  >;Ki't;itor.  In  'i'ititorotlo's 
the  San  Bocco  series  he  I^ik^i-In;  n  very  <ixc<>ptiooal 
i  attitude  is  of  great  humitity  ^  the  head  usually,  but 
,  slightly  beut  forward;  11k:  hunds,  which  in  primi- 
ng loosely  st  the  aides,  ar''  in  the  tiiial  type  crossed 
1st  or  folded  palm  to  paliii  iit  jiraycr.  The  Baptist'^ 
on  the  rocky  bank,  ordinmily  t^ljindiiig,  but  in  some 
es  kneeling.  The  kneeling  ^itlitiule  ie  illustrated  iu 
picture  in  the  Caatiglione  Mri-'S  mid  in  Andrea  della 
as-relief  on  the  font  in  thi'  ( 'Imrch  of  Sunta  Flora, 
jject  is  a  tempting  oppoitunity  fur  n  fine  artistic 
of  the  two  figuros  of  Christ  uml  tliu  Itiiptist,  the  one 
delicate,  sensitive  beauty.  t)i'.'  other  of  dark,  ru^^d 
le  figure  of  Out  Lord  is  muli'  »avo  for  a  loin  cloth  ; 
!  garment  of  skin  is  aliviiys  clHcfly  in  evidence, 
sometimes  wears,  besides,  v.-iluniintnis  dra]»riea  of  a 
nt  character.  He  is  somelimi's  gmint  nnd  haggard, 
handsome  and  stalwart,  Midi  finply  ikvetoijed  phy- 

y  of  the  older  representations  the  Baptist  performs 
simply  laying  the  liand  on  t'hrist'a  head.  Other 
as  show  him  raising  the  patera  in  the  act  of  ]>ouring 
)ver  the  head.  Finally  this  move  formal  vessel  is 
y  the  shell,  which  adds  a  pretty  poetic  touch  to  the 
[n  tlie  final  development  of  tlie  typical  composition 
t  invariably  carries  his  tall  reed  cross. 
!ry  early  times  it  was  customary  to  introduce  angels 
scene.  There  was  at  first  a  single  fif^nre,  as  in 
mel,  then  one  or  two  more  were  added,  tlie  number 
jming  rigidly  fixed.  Fi'ancia,  Bissolo,  Verocchio, 
have  two  ;  Masolino,  Fra  Angelico,  Piero  della  Fran- 
i,  and  Bellini,  three;  Penigino,  four.  The  office  of 
tial  attendants  is  ostensibly  to  hold  the  Lord's  gar- 
de comiwsitionally  they  balance  the  figure  of  John 
ig  or  kneeling  on  the  opposite  bank.  Sometimes 
seon  hovering  in  mid-air  over  the  group,  as  in  Ghi- 
atiful  panel  on  the  Siena  font,  and  iu  Carlo  Maratta's 
'  S.  Maria  degli  Angeli,  Rome.     Sometimes  human 


THE   PREPARATION  FOR   THE   MINISTRY 

spectators  are  also  added  to  the  scene.     This  is  a  perfe* 
legitimate  interpretation  of  St.  Luke's  text,  which  relates  1 
"  when  all  the  people  were  baptized,  Jesus  was  also  baptize 
Masolino  introduces  several  of  John's  disciples  awaiting  tl 
turn,  while  one  dresses,  having  received  the  rite.     Other 
amples  are  in  Ghirlandajo's  Baptism  of  the  series  illustrai 
the  life  of  St.  John   (S.  Maria  Novella,  Florence)  ;    in 
Baptism    of   the  Vatican    Loggie    (the    so-called    "  Kapha 
Bible  "),  and  in  a  seventeenth  century  Spanish  work  by  Can 
de  Miranda  in  the   Hermitage   Gallery,  St.  Petersburg, 
other  cases,  as  in  Giotto's  fresco,  people  stand  by  merel}/ 
spectators.     In  Pisano's  series  a  separate  panel  is  devoted 
spectively  to  the  baptism  of  the  people  and  of  Our  Lord.     ' 
symbol  of  the  dove  is,  of  course,  never  missing,  usually  ho 
ing  directly  over  the  Saviour's  head.     The  Father's  appro\ 
words  were  in  some  early  illustrations  inscribed  on  a  scroll 
the  heavens.      Sometimes  a  ray  of  light  extended  perpend 
larly  from  the  top  of  the  composition  and  rested  upon  the 
ure  of  Christ.     In  this  were  seen  two  hands,  symbols  of 
Eternal,  retained  as  late  as  Andrea  della  Robbia  and  Verocc 
Giotto  introduced  the  head. of  the  Almighty  in  visible  presei 
and  others  followed  his  lead,  as  Ghirlandajo  and  Bellini, 
this  literalism  did  not  often  enter  into  the  best  works. 

The  reader  may  compile  for  himself  a  long  and  interesi 
list  of  Baptisms  from  the  historical  series  of  the  lives  of 
Lord  and  St.  John  the  Baptist  as  enumerated  in  the  Introc 
tion.  A  detailed  description  would  be  wearisome,  as  all  < 
form  more  or  less  closely  to  the  type  outlined.  Ghirlanda 
is  one  of  the  best  of  these.  Andrea  del  Sarto's  (painte( 
conjunction  with  Franciabigio)  is  particularly  poor. 

Of  separate  pictures  devoted  to  the  subject,  there  are  S' 
of  peculiar  value. 

In  the  Venetian  school,  the  two  finest  works  are  those 
Cima  da  Conegliano  in  the  Church  of  S.  Giovanni  in  Brag 
Venice  (1494),  and  by  Giovanni  Bellini  in  the  Church  o: 
Corona,  Vicenza  (1510).  It  is  customary  to  compare  these 
pictures,  which  in  setting  and  general  arrangement  are  "\ 
similar.  Were  we  to  choose  between  them  we  must  turn  f 
one  to  the  other  in  real  perplexity.  If  Bellini  surpasses  C 
in  richness  of  color,  the  latter  has  also  his  strong  points  in 
artistic  handling  of  light  and  shade.     Cima's  landscape  cha 


rith  iui  Yunety,  bill  Itcllini's  has  a  beaolifiil  Iranqnil- 
aa'a  Ht.  John  is  a  moir  gaunt  ligure  than  the  Boptbt 
'»  picture,  oiul  p«rhai>B  mor«  pictiirMque  though  less 
laa  the  latter.  Kvcn  in  tho  Christ,  where  the  real 
(1  come,  there  ia  Ifiw*  dilfvreucc  than  one  would  iin- 
1  hoth  cases  we  have  that  soft,  exquisitelj'  moulded 

Venetians  so  loveil  to  piLiut,  with  the  caltn,  haiitU 
Uectual  face  looking  out  of  the  picture  with  tender 
jr.  But  oue  must  confess  that  Bellini's  selection  of 
es  with  it  an  element  of  vanity,  as  of  one  stepping 
audience  to  be  seen  and  admired,  while  Cima'a  Christ 
htly  towards  the  Itaplist  with  deeper  eameetnesfi  of 
Other  later  Venetian  painters  —  Titian,  Tintoretto, 
—  painted  the  subject  mure  or  less  frequently,  but 
Tpretation  of  Christ's  character  is  generally  rather 
intoretto's  painting  in  San  Hocco  has  become  familiar 
he  description  of  Mr.  Kuskin  ("  Modern  Painters  "), 

many  delicate  points  of  symbolism  in  the  composi- 

iintings  of  the  Baptism  by  Francia  are  worthy  of 
ud_Vj  one  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  and  another  at 
Court.  St,  John  kneels  on  the  bank  at  the  left,  and 
:s  the  cup  of  water  from  the  stream  he  lifts  his  face 
yith  an  almost  impassioned  earnestness.  The  Saviour 
o  the  appeal  with  humility,  his  hands  folded  palm  to 

lie's  Baptism  in  the  Florence  Academy  is  of  peculiar 
ecause  of  the  scarcity  of  that  painter's  works.  It- 
understanding  of  scenery  rare  in  his  period,  while  the 
[  accuracy  of  the  drawing  reveals  the  hand  of  a  sculp- 
figures  are  more  vigorous  tlian  refined,  but  there  ie 
incerity  and  directness  in  the  whole  conception  which 
istinct  religious  character  to  the  ivork.  The  two 
leling  angels  at  the  left  are  attributed  to  Leonardo 
who  was  an  apprentice  in  Verocchio's  workshop  at 
h^  picture  was  painted. 

ptism  appears  to  have  been  a  favorite  subject  in  the 
of  Perugino.  By  the  master's  own  hand  is  the  pic- 
i  Museum  at  Eouen,  a  part  of  the  predella  of  the 
originally  painted  for  the  Church  of  S.  Pietro,  Pe- 
two  others  in  the  gallery  at  Perugia,  one  being  the 


THE   PREPARATION  FOR  THE   MINISTRY  »< 

predella  of  the  Transfiguration.  A  fourth  is  in  the  Church  oj 
SS.  Annunziata,  Foligno,  and  a  fifth  was  added  in  1894  to  th( 
National  Gallery,  London.  In  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna, 
is  a  Baptism  copied  after  Perugino,  and  in  the  Munich  Gallerj 
is  a  work  of  this  painter's  school.  Most  conspicuous  example 
of  all  is  the  Sistine  Chapel  fresco  by  Pinturicchio,  in  which 
the  two  principal  figures  are  evidently  taken  from  one  of  Peru- 
gino's  drawings.  The  work  has  unfortunately  been  so  fre- 
quently cleaned  and  repainted  that  it  is  impossible  to  judge  itg 
original  color;  but  for  beauty  of  landscape,  fine  drawing  oi 
heads,  and  skill  of  composition  it  is  still  a  great  work.  It 
may  be  noticed  in  the  Peruginesque  Baptism  that  John  stands 
in  the  river  beside  the  Saviour,  rather  than  on  a  bank,  and  is 
enabled  to  raise  his  shell  above  the  latter' s  head  by  virtue  oi 
his  superior  height  and  long  arm. 

There  is  an  interesting  print  by  Lucas  van  Ley  den,  treating 
the  Baptism  in  a  manner  which  differs  widely  from  the  Italian 
method.  Crowds  of  people  are  gathered  on  either  bank  of  a 
narrow  stream.  On  the  farther  side,  in  a  still  pool,  kneels  the 
Saviour,  over  whose  head  John  stretches  his  hand  in  the  act 
of  baptism.  The  figures  in  the  foreground  are  so  interesting 
that  the  sacred  group  is  at  first  almost  overlooked. 

A  notable  modern  picture  of  the  Baptism,  by  Mr.  F.  V.  Dn 
Mond,  reproduced  in  "  Harper's  Weekly  "  of  March  17,  1894. 
possesses  some  technical  qualities  of  excellence  which  com- 
mend it  to  respectful  favor.  It  is  interesting  to  trace  the 
artist's  deviation  from  traditional  standards.  The  figure  oi 
Christ,  instead  of  the  usual  nude,  is  draped  in  long  white  gar- 
ments, while  St.  elohn  is  clad  in  a  short  tunic  of  fur.  Side 
by  side,  the  two  advance  in  the  water  towards  the  spectator, 
both  intent  upon  the  heavenly  vision  to  which  they  point. 
They  are  men  of  about  the  same  age,  in  accordance  with  the 
historical  fact  which  the  older  masters  ignored  in  their  effort 
to  produce  an  effective  contrast.  There  is  also  a  resemblance 
between  the  two,  as  of  cousinship,  too  marked  perhaps  to  be 
consistent  with  characters  so  entirely  dissimilar.  The  setting 
is  wonderfully  artistic,  with  the  still,  glassy  pool  and  the  reedy 
shores  surrounding,  where  picturesque  groups  peep  among  the 
trees,  staring  curiously  at  the  strange  scene. 


III.  The  TEMPTATinN  or  Our  Lobd 

luiu  led  Dp  o[  ihc  t]itrll  luta  ttu  Mbtenww  lu  Im  Mm|ili"l  nt  tti« 

he  h«d  (uted  lonr  daf*  aud  tony  niKhU,  h*  WW  attarwitnt  an 

the  UmpterinDir  m  hln,  lir  <«ld,  If  ihuu  bn  Iho  Sou  nf  f;<>il. 
It  then  itoDem  lir  niiu]i>  lirmil. 

wered  and  uld,  Ii  )■  writtfn,  Han  tlull  not  llvn  \>y  hnad  al>jn<', 
'  word  that  pnwvndilb  nal  »(  lli<f  miinlli  »f  (;<id. 
levil  taketh  him  up  Into  thv  holy  dl.v,  and  wltetli  him  on  a  )iiii- 

unto  him,  If  thuti  be  tho  Sun  of  Gnd,  cait  Ih^tulf  dinrn:  for  U 
Ic  shall  give  hi*  angel*  I'harKv  I'unmrning  thfi' :  and  tn  their 
tball  bear  thef>  n|i,  Ivnt  at  aii.r  time  Ihuo  da>h  thy  lout  agtinst  a 

unto  him,  It  i),  vrriitpii  atcaJn,  Tlioa  shall  not  (oinpl  Iht  Lord  thy 

I  devil  taketh  him  up  into  an  encMditij^  hifch  tnounttin,  tad 
all  the  kingdomt  at  the  world,  and  the  gliirr  of  Ilium ; 
oato  him,  All  theite  things  will  I  give  thee,  Uthou  wilt  falldoWB 

JesuB  unto  him,  Ret  ihee  hence,  Satan:  fur  it  is  writt«n,  Thou 
)  the  Lord  thy  God.  and  dim  only  sliilt  Ihou  servo, 
levil  leavelli  hiui,  »nd.  IwIit.M,  angels  camp  nnil  ministered  unW 


thoughtful  student  of  the  Gospels,  the  Temptation 

great  crisis  in  the  life  of  Our  Lord,  when  he  came 
rting  of  the  ways  anil  made  his  choice.  All  the 
;  events  of  his  career  derive  their  meaning  and 
from  this  victory.     Theologically,  tliis  fact  is  clearly 

;  artistically,  it  has  been  practically  ignored,  rrom 
wint  of  reason  it  is  impossible  to  reconstruct  Christ's 
.it  the  forty  days  in  the  wilderness ;  from  the  artist's 
-,  they  are  merely  an  unpleasant  incident  ill  adapted 
3  of  painting.     Counting  out  illustrated  manuscripts, 

text  was  closely  followed  witli  as  many  miniatures 
s,  few  historical  series  include  the  subject,  and,  as  it 
tly  inappropriate  for  altar-pieces  and  easel  pictures, 
number  of  examples  is  small.  The  early  treatment 
dingly  grotesque.  There  was  no  fixed  type  for  the 
and  ingenuity  was  taxed  to  the  utmost  to  produce 
r  diabolical  attributes.      Sometimes  he  appears  as  a 

imp,  as  in  the  Book  of  Kells  (seventh  century)  at 


'■  THE    PREPARATION    FOR   THE    MINISTRY 

Trinity  College,  Dublin.^  Wearing  tlie  human  form,  he  ia 
moat  always  equipped  with  huge  bat  wings,  while  homa,  te 
and  webbed  feet  are  usually  in  evidence.     A  creature  of  tl 


description  may  be  seen  on  the  doors  of  the  Pisa  flathedn 
leaping  over  a  precipice. 

In  the  miniature  by  Liberale  da  Verona  (Siena  Cathedi 
Library),  where,  by  the  way,  he  ia  without  winge,  he  is  simp 
a  clown,  whose  horns  and  claws  seem  a  pait  of  his  circ 
«nlm-u  of  Anffh-.-^ii3 


By  Auiiie  prcM-'uiu  ot  rmuoning  wliicli  lia«  not  been 
I,  tliu  Ttiiipt«r  wan  liimlty  (l(rve]o[Mi)]  into  on  ol<I  maa. 
tornii,  wiiigH,  aiul  webbed  fcul  were  atill  ntoined,  but  the 
fftttt  that  of  writiklMl  old  age.  It  wan  thuN  that  Ghiberti 
senU.-d  hiiu  ou  Ida  panel  of  the  Ba|itiaU:rjr  gnUt  nt  Florence, 
and  ituilo  are  written  on  bia  coiiiiUtmiiM,  but  the  domi- 
toiie  is  overwhelming  chagrin,  as  ivith  a  swift  defensive 
nient  of  the  arm  he  recoiU  from  thi?  lifti-d  hand  of  the 
ur,  who  stands  on  a  slight  eminenuo  uppoaite,  looking 
BcMullj  at  his  enemy.  A  group  of  angela  hover  grace- 
above.  There  is  a  suggestion  of  King  Lear  in  tbe  pathetic 
.ng  of  tliB  Tempter,  sud  in  spite  of  ourtselves  an  involun- 
ieeling  of  pity  arises  nt  his  defeat.  Wc  suddenly  realize 
as  ill  Milton'H  Paradise  Lost,  lie  ia  the  real  hero  of  tbe 
rather  than  Our  Lord.  Here  we  touch  tbe  fundamental 
lUy  of  tbe  subject  artistically  conceived.  AVe  .■teem 
1  to  choose  between  a  Satan  so  inferior  as  to  make  the 
ry  trivial,  or  so  interesting  that  his  defeat  is  of  more 
quenca  than  Our  Lord's  victory.  Perhaps  it  was  with 
difficulties  in  mind  that  when  the  subject  was  assigned 
■tticelli  for  a  fresco  in  the  Ristinc  (l^lmjiel,  he  approaclied 
ubolically  and  disposed  the  literal  scenes  of  the  tempta- 
in  tbe  background.  The  centre  of  tbe  foreground  ia 
ied  by  an  altar  at  which  a  high-priest  and  an  assistant 
re  to  offer  a  sacrifice  for  the  cleansing  of  the  leper,  who 
forward  from  the  side  by  two  companions.  This  group 
believe,  intended  to  be  regarded  symbolically,  the  high- 
.  being  the  type  of  One  who  is  "  touched  with  the  feeling 
r  infirmities,"  and  in  tbe  distance  we  see  him  "  in  all 
9  tempted  like  as  we  are."  In  the  middle  background  is 
;mple,  on  whose  apex  the  dialogue  is  enacted  between  the 
iter  and  Our  Lord,  At  the  left,  on  a  hillside,  Satan  points 
i  stones,  urging  the  miracle  upon  the  Saviour.  At  the 
tbe  two  again  appear  above  tbe  edge  of  a  precipice, 
3  Satan  makes  his  last  proposal ;  behind  them  angels 
re  a  table. 

itics  have  specially  praised  the  various  groups  of  this 
re.  In  each  one  the  Tempter  is  in  tbe  form  of  an  old 
nt  or  hermit,  wearing  a  pointed  hood  drawn  over  his 
an  innovation  adopted  we  know  not  ivhen,  but  widely 
■ed  to  after  this  date.     Botticelli's   threefold  picture  is 


THE  PKEPARATION  FOR  THE  MINISTRY 

unique  in  its  scope.     The  Flemish  painter  Patenier  is  perh 
the  only  other  artist  who  has  tried  to  put  more  than  one 
the  temptations  into  a  single   composition.     Usually,  if 
three  are  represented,  as  in  some  mediaeval  art,  they  are  gi 
in  a  series,  as  in  the  old  mosaics  of  Monreale  and  on  one 
the  windows  of  Chartres  Cathedral.     Most  often  the  firsi 
selected  as  typical  of  the  entire  conflict.     This  is  the  ( 
in  Perugino's  composition,  which  fills  one  of  the  medalli 
on  the  ceiling  of  the  Camera  delP  Incendio  in  the  Vatic 
Rome.     Christ  and  the  Tempter  stand  vis-a-vis  in  the  f( 
ground,  the  former  the  gentle  benignant  figure  common  to 
the  Umbrian  painter's  Christ  pictures,  the  latter  a  fine 
man  resembling  a  prophet.     Even  his  horns  do  not  give  1 
an  evil  enough  character  to  insure  identification,  and  the  cri 
have  often  hastily  mistaken  him  for  Moses.     He  holds  in 
hand  a  stone,  and  the  dignity  of  his  bearing  lends  an  imp: 
siveness  to  a  scene  too  often  made  trivial  by  exaggeration, 
the  background  the  victorious  Christ  is  seen  a  second  ti: 
with  ministering  angels,  one  on  each  side,  offering  him  refre 
ment. 

From  German  art  we  have  an  example  of  the  Temptat 
in  an  engraving  by  Lucas  van  Leyden.     Christ  leans  oi 
rock  at  the  left,  turning  with  a  sorrowful  face  to  rebuke  Sat 
who  as  a  wily  old  man  in  hermit's  hood  holds  a  stone  in 
hand,  pointing  to  it  with  the  other. 

Tintoretto,  with  characteristic  boldness,  conceived  the  Tem j 
as  an  angel  of  light  with  radiant  wings  and  an  armlet  of  glei 
ing  jewels.  It  was  a  subtle  thought  worthy  of  a  great  picti 
but  the  artist  failed  to  carry  it  out  successfully.  The  < 
angel  is  a  nude  figure,  too  coarsely  fat  to  be  attractive, 
each  hand  he  carries  a  stone  which  he  holds  up  triumphal 
as  if  sure  of  victory.  The  Christ  is  seated  on  a  high  ban! 
the  right,  under  the  shelter  of  a  sort  of  rustic  hut.  His  p 
tion  is  not  calculated  to  give  him  a  commanding  aspect,  ; 
the  face  which  bends  to  speak  to  the  Tempter  is  not  admin 
for  strength  (S.  Eocco  series,  Venice). 

Ary  Scheffer's  Temptation  is  one  of  his  three  best  wc 
and  is  perhaps  as  .good  a  picture  as  can  be  made  on  the 
literal  basis.     The  Christ  is  a  noble  and  dignified  figure, 
result  of  a  sudden  inspiration  swiftly  executed.     With  a  s 
pie  gesture  he  points  heavenward,  turning  his  face  serenel} 


,  whoao  «jv.  .nect  hin  with  a  fl^rc^  glitter.  It  waj  witli 
gute  of  tlic  'I'onipter  that  tlic  nrtu-t  Ktriigglsd  long,  paitit- 

ad  t«i:u> jilting  iii  liis  Miarch  for  a  tnio  iioperaonatiou  ol 
His  KiircR**  IK  iiinrkod.  ^Vc  ma  b»re  a  vigoioua  youth, 
I  dark.  hniiiUoinn  fucc  i>  n  worthy  coiilnuit  to  the  p]juii<i 
jr  of  till-  Siiviiiiirj  tin  trivial  viilgnrity  sjwils  the  strong 
vene&s  i>f  iii.i  RpiMnkl.  But  thn  picture  leivi^s  no  uucer> 
as  t<)  ttiti  iloniiiiiuit  iHirKunnlity  ;  the  best  thing  about 
he  seiiiu:  uf  coiuplclu  victory  which  it  coiiveyg.  , 

»)mposilii)ii  hy  Profeuor  Hofintinu  (in  u  iseries  of  dmw# 
follows  ill  Ary  SchetTer'tt  fiioutep*  iu  Die  iiiterpretattoi^ 
IF  LorJ'H  uttitiulH  mill  gesturt*.  The  Salan  ia  of  quite 
9r  typL',  Imt,  Htieii  from  the  rear,  tht*  huge  hat  wiags  aail 
tised  tiliuuldor  toiiuuul  miiuh  uf  the  upper  part  of  the 
,  and  we  uvo  uiily  thu  auggetitiuu  of  the  strong,  evil  face. 
the  wtifkuf  Domeiiioo  Morelli,  we  have  a  iiiodem  vusttH^ 
story  which  is  strikingly  original  and  significant  tkBi. 
^  is  a  vast  stony  desert,  with  four  vultures  cowering  iipinta 
:  ill  the  distant  background.  Satan  resemhies  some  hid^ 
reptile  ^  peeping  forth  with  a  leer  from  a  deep  c»ck  il^ 
rth  opeiiiiii,'  not  ftir  frum  the  feet  of  the  Saviour.  Oi» 
is  a  fine  virile  figure,  standing  ahuve  with  his  eyes  raised 

ris^ot's  "  Illuftiated  Life  of  Chriit,"  the  story  of  the  Temp- 
is  told  in  four  iquarelka  In  the  hrst  we  have  a  some- 
fantastic  representation  of  Cliiist  Ixiiue  to  tlie  mountain. 
inds  in  mid  air,  dad  in  a  diaplianous  drapery,  hia  arms 
etched,  his  eyes  closed,  like  a  sub)(,ct  of  hypnotism ; 
from  hoiund  a  huge  shadowy  figure  propels  liim  through 
We  mylit  fincy  that  th^  pictuio  was  inspired  by  the 
.n  Milton's  Piradise  Kcgiined  We  next  see  Our  Lord 
3ck  giotto,  standing  with  hib  hands  loo&ely  clasped  before 
ook       d     n    t  ai       1y    Id  1  t    h       tran  e 

hid  p      to  hhdThthdptre 

tempt  th    t      pi         f      h       CI  n  t    t     d        th 

y  dlplhd  fpj  Ag         bt-lk 

reisgly      tldbhdlm       dl        bih        d 
p  h       h     Id  h  gl  y  il     1    t   11  s- 

th    m         y    f  th        fe  1         d      1  th    t  cal 

H 

m       De    m 


manner  which  suggests  Dore'.  Christ  lies  outstretched  on  the 
ground  surrounded  hy  dimly  discerned  figures  reaching  long, 
slender  fingers  towards  him. 

There  is  a  recent  picture  of  the  Temptation,  by  Cornicelius. 
which  expresses  with  singular  force  the  modern  spirit  of  psy- 
chological interpretation.  It  is  in  the  manner  of  a  portrait 
showing  Our  Lord  in  half-length  seated  with  his  arms  resting 
apparently  on  a  table.  His  face  has  the  drawn,  haggard  lools 
of  one  passing  through  deep  waters.  His  large  eyes  are  dilated 
as  they  gaze  absently  out  of  the  canvas  seeing  great  visions. 
The  nature  of  these  visions  is  indicated  by  a  crown  held  just 
over  his  head  by  a  shadowy  figure  in  the  rear,  whose  darkj 
sinister  face  can  scarcely  be  seen.  It  is  a  profoundly  impres- 
sive picture. 

IV.   The  Marriage  at  Cana 

And  the  third  day  there  was  a  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee ;  and  the  mothei 
of  Jesus  was  there  : 

And  both  Jesus  was  called,  and  his  disciples,  to  the  marriage. 

And  when  they  wanted  wine,  the  mother  of  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  They  have 
no  wine. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  with  thee  ?  mine  hour  is 
not  yet  come. 

His  mother  saith  unto  the  servants.  Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you,  do  it. 

And  there  were  set  there  six  waterpots  of  stone,  after  the  manner  of  the 
purifying  of  the  Jews,  containing  two  or  three  firkins  apiece. 

Jesus  saith  unto  them.  Fill  the  waterpots  with  water.  And  they  filled  them 
up  to  the  brim. 

And  he  saith  unto  them.  Draw  out  now,  and  bear  unto  the  governor  of  the 
feast.    And  they  bare  it. 

When  the  ruler  of  the  feast  had  tasted  the  water  that  was  made  wine,  and 
knew  not  whence  it  was  :  (but  the  servants  which  drew  the  water  knew;)  the 
governor  of  the  feast  called  the  bridegroom. 

And  saith  unto  him.  Every  man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good  wine ; 
and  when  men  have  well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse  :  but  thou  hast 
kept  the  good  wine  until  now. 

This  beginning  of  miracles  did  Jesus  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  and  manifested 
forth  his  glory  ;  and  his  disciples  believed  on  him.  —  John  ii.  1-11. 

Not  more  wonderful  than  the  other  miracles,  and  on  the 
surface  rather  less  useful,  the  conversion  of  water  into  wine 
has  nevertheless  a  singular  place  of  importance  in  the  life  oi 
Our  Lord,  historically  and  religiously  considered.  That  it  was 
"  the  beginning  of  miracles  '^  is  in  itself  a  sufficient  reason  foi 
its  prominence.     Moreover,  it  was  universally  accepted  by  the 


1  an  prefiguring  tlie  institution  of  the  Euclumt. 
among  the  few  aubjeeta  chosen  for  tbe  oniamenta* 
f  Christian  moQumente,  «»i>eci3Uy  the  »arco[>biigi. 
ot  theu  andent  reprcsentationB  the  Itcalmeut  b 
than  historical,  no  attempt  being  made  to  r«pro- 
rirotinient  of  the  mirnclc. 

Dsl  composition  shawii  (Hir  LorJ,  joiitUiiI  and 
id  wt-aring  n  togii-likn  drn|iiTj-,  ntftiiding  before  a 
■nd  tuiicbing  onii  of  thciu  with  a  wanci,  which 
his  right  hand.  The  number  of  pots  varies,  — 
»  ttix.  Oucaaioually  the  wuid  U  dispensed  with, 
«  towards  the  pot  effi^utn  the  niiriide. 
ui  HUBgeBt«d  that  tiuH  idualiited  treatment  was  sub- 
the  historic  SMiie  of  the  niarriaf^  oil  account  of  the 
]f  monaKtic  iustitutions  and  the  consequent  disre- 
Aige.  There  are,  however,  to  refute  this  theory,  a 
few  genuine  hiatorical  repreeenta- 
I     /C!m^  ''i'"'"  '"  *''^'''y  f"^*-     ^"*  of  these 

I   ^^S  '^  ^  tteecQ  in  the  Cemetery  of  SS. 

r  ^"^^Byr  Maicellinp  e  Pietro,  Rome.  At 
the  reiir  side  uf  a  semicircular  ta- 
>ilc  ftit  Nvi'  figures,  three  being 
iVDineii,  presumably  the  Virgin, 
tlio  bride,  and  the  bride's  mother. 
The  two  men  are  probably  the 
bridegroom  and  tbe  ruler  of  the 
feast.  In  tbe  foreground,  oppo- 
site tbe  table,  stands  the  row  of 
water-pots,  four  in  number.  Our 
Lord  at  tbe  end  of  tbe  table  re- 
ceives from  a  servant,  whose  hand 
only  ia  seen,  a  goblet  of  wine.  Aa 
a  device  to  emphasize  tlie  mira- 
cle and  to  distin^iish  this  from 
—  any  other  banrjtieting  scene,  the 
le  three  women  point  to  tbe  jars. 
""  Another  example  is  on  a  carved 
ivory  book  cover,  and  shows  Cbrist 
e  jars,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  nine 
le  of  these  is  a  boy,  who  pours  water  from  an 
e  of  tbe  jars. 


V  of  tbr. 


Once  introduced  into  the  cycle  of  Christian  art  subjects,  the 
marriage  at  Cana  held  its  own  by  reason  of  its  picturesque 
suggestiveness  and  its  ready  adaptability  to  artistic  purposes. 
We  find  it  frequently  in  the  illuminated  manuscripts,  as  in  the 
Gospel  Books  of  Gotha  and  Trier,  and  in  historical  series,  as 
those  of  Giotto,  Barna,  and  Fra  Angelico.  In  the  latter  case, 
be  it  understood,  it  is  by  no  means  the  invariable  factor  which 
we  have  found  the  Baptism  to  be.  Sometimes  it  is  the  only 
miracle  in  an  entire  series,  standing  apparently  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  them  all.  No  fixed  type  of  composition  can  be 
described.  Both  motif  and  style  of  arrangement  vary  greatly. 
Without  the  guests  there  are  at  least  six  figures  seated  at 
table,  as  in  the  ancient  fresco  already  described.  In  addition, 
there  are  the  servants  in  attendance,  busy  with  the  water-pots. 
That  some  of  Our  Lord^s  disciples  were  also  present  seems 
often  to  have  been  ignored ;  and  when  the  fact  is  recognized 
it  is  with  the  assumption  that  they  consisted  of  the  twelve, 
who  were  not  definitely  organized  till  the  following  year. 

The  entire  narrative  of  the  Marriage  at  Cana  contains  ample 
material  for  a  serial  art  treatment,  but  this  I  have  never  seen 
except  in  a  quaint  old  thirteenth  century  window  (Notre  Dame 
de  Belle  Verriere)  in  the  Chartres  Cathedral.  Here  the  story 
is  admirably  dramatized  in  several  scenes,  which,  read  from 
below,  show  Christ  and  his  disciples  approaching  as  guests,  the 
table  set,  the  Virgin  talking  with  her  son,  Christ  giving  the 
orders,  the  Virgin  directing  the  servants,  and  the  final  judg- 
ment on  the  wine. 

In  selecting  for  representation  a  single  moment  of  the  story, 
three  motifs  may  be  chosen.  There  is,  first,  Mary's  request 
to  Our  Lord ;  second,  Our  Lord's  order  to  the  servants ;  and 
third,  the  surprised  exclamation  of  the  ruler  of  the  feast. 
The  first  makes  the  Virgin  prominent,  the  second  emphasizes 
the  miracle,  while  the  third  has  no  religious  significance  what- 
ever. 

We  have  seen  that  the  earliest  theme  adopted  was  Our 
Lord's  order  to  the  servants,  and  this  was  continued  down  to 
the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  After  this  the  Virgin 
is  more  conspicuous,  sharing  the  place  of  honor  with  her  Son. 
Finally,  when  the  subject  was  a  mere  excuse  for  a  brilliant 
picture,  and  entirely  without  sacred  meaning,  the  ruler  of  the 
feast  was  the  hero  of  the  occasion.      Giotto's  fresco  in   the 


L  Of  the  mx  jienonii  •eatniT  at  tlio  fvati,  Wi  tuuIiTy  iomi- 
Our  Iiinl  at  une  trnil,  the  bridegroom  )ie*iJ«  htm,  and 
»ph  beyonil.  Thi^  Iwlde  siU  in  the  iniiiaii!  of  the  ottMT 
I  of  tliR  Miiiare  tjible,  willi  the  Vlrxlii  i>ii  hvr  Ml  atid  «i- 
IT  female  ii^um  ou  her  right.  Font  Hon-int^  hTv  in  att«nd' 
B,  one  of  whom  stanile  humbly  receiving  ChrirtV  blcMitii^ 

I  ruler  of  th«  feaat  is  tasting  the  wine  bosidc  <he<  wal<>r-pat*, 
Fta  Angolico's  piiturc   (Klorpnco  Academy  *erii>(  L'hriat 

ulone  at  the  enil  of  Iho  tahie,  the  Virgin  phii'cil  oa  pit« 
rniul  next  to  hira,  fnhling  her  hiunls  in  mlorutjon  w  h<»  {^TM 

order  to  the  servwit,  Tht!  hride  fiiUowH  her  uxmnple.  jJ 
Fbere  is  a  tiny  engraving  by  Jncques  f'nllnt,  the  ndclirfttaml 
nch  engraver  of  the  seventeenth  century,  in  which  the  stoijni 
Did  with  a  siniplti  dircirtnesH  which  viett  with  tbi:  ^iiirit  ol^ 
y  Chriatian  art.     Thu  jKirty  of  six  sit  ultoiit  a  round  lAbfo^-'l 

Our  Lord  niwaks  Ui  n  buy,  who  is  turning  waiter  from  %.  ] 

into  a  jar.  Small  aa  the  iiJi'ture  is,  —  lesa  than  two  iuchflg^ 
are,  —  the  face  of  Our  Lord  is  noble  and  dignitled.  ^ 

II  the  Venetian  school  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  IbS^I 
;e  at  Cana  was  an  exceedingly  popular  subject  for  the  dWpjJ 
on  of  refeuloriea.  The  composition  now  grew  to  huge  pV^fl 
tions  and  included  an  immense  number  of  persons.  ^M^H 
pie  marriage  feast  among  Galilean  peasants  is  transfoiAij^H 
)  a  superb  wedding  banquet  among  Venetian  nobles.  13v| 
le  is  a  lofty  marble  hall,  the  table  is  laid  with  costly  tttf^B 
I  of  gold  and  silver,  the  guests  are  attired  in  gleaming  aaHt^H 
.  rich  brocades  made  in  the  fashion  of  Venetian  cOSOfU 
Bses,  Crowded  with  so  many  figures,  tiie  composition  la^fflB 
erence,  Our  Lord  cannot  lie  easily  recognized  as  the  prixtW^ 
il  figure,  nor  does  the  company  show  any  uuity  of  inter^^S 
iction.  It  is  diliicult  to  discover  what  dramatic  moraoiiaH 
stitutes  the  main  nwtif.  Veronese's  pictures  are  the  md$^| 
ibrated  of  this  cbiss,^  chief  among  them  the  huge  cauT^^f 
the  Louvre,  twenty  by  thirty  feet  in  dimensions  and  eoU"  n 
ling  some  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons.  Figuring  aa  I 
ists  are  manj'  royal  personages  of  the  time,  —  Francis  I,  and  1 
ry  of  England,  Eleanor  of  Austria,  Charles  V.,  and  others,  i 
B  place  of  prominence  is  held  by  the  orchestra,  in  the  centoe    j 


po,  LunigD,  lu 


THE   PREPARATION  FOR  THE  MINISTI 

)f  the  hollow  square  formed  by  the  tables.  Th 
ire  so  interesting  as  to  completely  overshadow  thi 
ure  of  Our  Lord,  who  neither  by  gesture  nor  attit 
any  dominating  interest  in  the  action.  The  m 
person  of  the  entire  composition  is  the  ruler  of  tl 
at  the  right  holds  up  his  glass  and  talks  with  the 

Another  picture  by  Veronese  is  at  Dresder 
crowded  with  figures.  Here  the  ruler  of  the  feasi 
the  principal  person,  not  only  in  action  but  in  pos 
ing  as  he  does  the  exact  centre  of  the  compositior 
looks  on  from  the  side  with  beneficent  interest, 
ture  is  in  the  Brera  Gallery,  Milan. 

Tintoretto's  treatment  of  the  subject  is  difFerei 
ment,  but  has  the  characteristic  charm  of  the  V 
The  table  runs  lengthwise  through  the  composit 
guests  ranged,  the  women  on  one  side  and  the  i 
Christ  and  his  mother  sit  at  the  farther  end,  fa 
appear  to  be  talking  together.  The  principal  rei 
miracle  is  the  action  of  the  woman  at  the  near 
rises  with  her  glass  to  show  the  wine  to  her  oppoi 
The  picture  was  painted  originally  for  the  refc 
Crociferi,  and  after  the  suppression  of  this  orde 
to  the  Church  of  S.  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice, 
remains.     A  copy  is  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florer 

One  more  Venetian  picture  should  be  mentione 
nection.  This  is  by  Padavanino,  in  the  Venice  Ac 
considered  his  masterpiece.  The  feast  is  laid  in  1 
At  one  side  of  a  table  running  lengthwise  sits  Ou 
end  nearest  the  spectator.  By  this  arrangement 
nearer  than  in  any  other  picture  I  have  seen,  so  t 
by  no  means  dominating  the  composition,  he  is 
lated  in  a  dignified  way,  instead  of  being  lost  i 
At  his  left  is  his  mother,  with  whom  he  talks,  an 
the  disciples.  The  bridal  party  are  on  the  othe 
table,  interesting  themselves  in  the  wine  as  a  t 
from  a  large  jar  into  a  smaller  vessel. 

With  examples  in  northern  art  we  are  not  vei 
provided.  One  picture  of  great  interest  is  in 
where  it  has  been  variously  attributed  to  Memlin 
der  Weyden,  and  Gerard  David.  It  has  those  dis 
ities  of  strength  and  seriousness  which  are  peci 


«U.     The  figure  of  Our  U^rd  U  fillf^ 
raiwH  liiH  lisii*!  in  lieutNliitiun,  tutiiii)(;  tt)  the  i 
jrlioiii  Htaada,  wUili>  atiuthet  km-vlii. 

.'u  din»ct  contract  to  thin  work  uf  an  earlier  aud  more  r«li- 
M  nptril  ia  tlia  yfnre  pk'ture  by  Jan  St««D  in  the  Dresden 
llery.  It  reOecta  tlio  I)utch  life  of  the  aeveuteeutb  century 
fivjdly  SB  Verou«w  pictures  the  Venetian  life  of  the  eix- 
ith,  and  is  as  conrw  as  the  latter  U  elo^nt.  The  oceiie  i^ 
I  in  a  sort  of  veetibulo  l<?a<:ltn(;  out  of  the  dining  hall  hy  a 
ht  of  nteps.  Our  Lord  ia  coming  down  thi«  stairway,  hav- 
jiut  left  the  inner  room,  where  the  bridal  party  still  sit 
itiug.  He  (lauaea  to  point  ripward  with  the  riglit  hand,  and 
h  the  left  makes  a  gesture  referring  to  the  table  in  the 
r.  In  the  foreground  is  the  group  of  real  interest,  —  the 
iter  of  the  feast,  a  burly  man,  inmieiisoly  tickled  by  the 
ility  of  the  wine,  a  glass  of  trliich  ho  offers  a  fiddler ;  a 
id  giving  a  child  to  drink,  and  the  Virgin  looking  on  with  a 
le  of  proud  gratification. 

Dhe  Marriage  at  Caiia  is  the  eubject  of  a  deaign  foi  stained 
jB  by  Sir  Edward  Burne-Jonea,  executed  in  a  window  at 
rritz,  France. 


V.  FEOM  THE  FIEST  TO  THE   SECOND 

OVEK 

I.  The  First  Cleansing  op  the  Tempi 

And  the  Jews*  passover  was  at  hand,  and  Jesus  went  up  to  Jen 

And  found  in  the  temple  those  that  sold  oxen  and  sheep  and  do 
changers  of  money  sitting : 

And  when  he  had  made  a  scourge  of  small  cords,  he  drove  the 
the  temple,  and  the  sheep,  and  the  oxen ;  and  poured  out  the  chan^ 
and  overthrew  the  tables ; 

And  said  unto  them  that  sold  doves,  Take  these  things  hence ;  n 
Father's  house  an  house  of  merchandise.  —  John  ii.  13-16. 

The  ministry  of  Our  Lord  dates  properly  from  the 
following  the  Baptism,  when  he  came  to  Jerusalem 
his  public  work.  That  his  first  recorded  act  hei 
cleanse  the  temple  of  the  defiling  influences  of  the  tra 
on  within  its  precincts  is  more  significant,  perhaps, 
commonly  been  remarked.  It  is  the  more  striking  fro: 
that  three  years  later  the  circumstance  was  repeat 
his  last  Passover  season.  The  two  incidents  were  i 
confused  by  early  commentators,  the  first  recorded  oi 
John,  and  the  last  mentioned  in  the  three  Synoptic 
A  like  confusion  has  naturally  existed  in  the  minds 
and  wherever  we  find  it  difiicult  to  tell  whether  tl 
second  cleansing  is  intended,  it  is  probable  that  the 
tation  is  a  sort  of  composite  of  the  two.  In  a  set  o: 
tive  illustrations  of  Christ's  life,  we  may  of  course 
from  the  position  the  artist's  purpose.  On  Ghibert 
the  Florence  Baptistery,  the  subject  follows  the  T( 
and  hence  plainly  refers  to  the  First  Passover. 

In  Bida's  illustrated  "  Evangelists "  the  same  re 
clear,  as  the  etching  accompanies  the  second  chapl 
John.  Ev^  thus,  however,  the  artist  does  not  alv 
a  strict  adherence  to  the  text,  for  Ghiberti  omits  th 
which  is  expressly  mentioned  on  the  first  occasion. 

As  an  independent  subject,  the  Cleansing  of   th 


lot  belong  to  early   art,  and   v;i>  <l<-vil»]wi]  chiefly  iq] 
iteeuth  uiiil  seveiitct-ntli  ceiitiiri<':<.      Siiii^  theMi  pictnrH^ 
>  be  defiaitely  referred  to  eithiT  oiiu  of  tlirt  twi>  incident^  ' 
y  very  well  consider  them  in  lliis  plai%. 
I  subject  is  one  which  tests  well  the  artiHt's  indght  inM 
ter,  and  hb  ability  to  hold  tu  the  golden  mean.     1^ 
ret  Our  Lord's    conduct   as    mi    uxprension  of  comiiKn( 
is  a  gross  misrepresentation  of  tlie  incident,  whilv,  on 
,her  hand,  to  soften  right«ous  indi);iii)tion  iiit«  tuild  d{» 
ral  is  equally  infelicitous.      I  Piio  or  tbe  other  of  tlw 
xtrenies    is  a   frequent  defect    in    the  many    paiott 
id  to  the  subject.      Usually,  it  i»  but  too  evident  f 
lief  attraction  in  tlie  theme  i^  the  ^triliitig  scenic  et 
;ed  by  many  figures  full  of  lift-  nml   iirlion.     To  thM 
nte  i>aint«rs  (of  Bassano)  it  otl'iTed  a  ilesiruble  cattle  anlta 
nd  we  have  examples  from  their  hands  in  the  Katie 
y,  London,  and  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna- 
Giordano  it  gave  an  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  1 
jous  dramatic  gifts,  and  the  colossal  fresco  at  S.  Gen^ 
,  Naples,  is  a  vigorous  and  characteristic  work. 
ISonifaKio,  in  tlie  vestibule  of  the  chrijid  of  the  Ducal 
!,  A'enice,  is  a  picture  higlily  praised  by  Mrs.  Jameson, 
.escribes  it  in  tlie  foUoHiug  terms :  — 
lur  Saviour  towering  in    tlie  midst — a  most  dignified 
,    severe,    and  yet    not    agitated    by    displeasure — just 
his  hand  armed  with  the  scourge.     The  crowd  of  peo- 
y  hither  and  tJiitber  in  consternation;  one,  standing  he- 
magnificent  table  heaped  with  gold  and  silver,  tries  to 
■  it  up  and   escape   with   it.     The  architecture  of  the 
e  is  seen  in  the  background ;  the  numerous  figures  agi- 
by  different  passions,  —  amazement,  terror,  anxiety  for 
possessions, — the  fine,  vigorous,  truly   Venetian    color, 
all,   the   fine  expression  in    the  liead  and  attitude  of 
b,  render  this,  perhaps,  the  masterpiece  of  Bonifazio." 
e  Cleansing  of  the  Temple  is  the  subject  of  an  interest- 
tching  by  Rembrandt,  of  the  date  llxty.     The  scene  is 
iterior  of  a  stately  Gothic  cathedral,  and  a  fine  effect  of 
iiisness  is  produced  by  the  perspective  of  pillared  arches 
ng  the  background  at  the  left.     In  the  right  background 
i  high-priest's  throne,  reached  by  a  long  flight  of  steps, 
le  foreground.  Oar  Lord  is  the  centre  of  a  frightened 


FROM  THE   FIRST  TO.  THE   SECOND   PASSOVER         101 

throng  of  traders  hurry irig  ^  ayrky  on  both  sides,  some  of  then 
prostrate.  He  clasps  in  both-;;&ands  the  scourge,  raising  i1 
above  his  head  in  the  act  of  strikir/g^/^A  single  touch  redeems 
the  character  of  a  scene  which  wouliJ*' otherwise  seem  one  oj 
fierce  and  commonplace  anger.  It  is'tke-'iiiysterious  hale 
which  surrounds  the  Saviour's  clasped  hands/ making  his  figure 
the  impersonation  of  holy  and  consecrated  wrath.* 


11.  The  Discourse  with  Nicodemus 


There  was  a  man  of  the  Pharisees,  named  Nicodemus,  a  ruler  of  the  Jews«»* 

The  same  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  and  said  unto  him,  Rabbi,  we  know  thai 
thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God:  for  no  man  can  do  these  miracles  that  thot 
doest,  except  God  be  with  him. 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him.  Verily,  veril}-^,  I  say  unto  thee,  Except  f 
man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Nicodemus  saith  unto  him.  How  can  a  man  be  born  when  he  is  old  ?  can  Ik 
enter  the  second  time  into  his  mother's  womb,  and  be  bom  ? 

Jesus  answered,  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  Except  a  man  be  born  o] 
water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 

That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh ;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spiril 
is  spirit. 

Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee.  Ye  must  be  born  again. 

The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  bul 
canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth:  so  is  every  one  that  if 
born  of  the  Spirit. 

Nicodemus  answered  and  said  unto  him.  How  can  these  things  be  ? 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him.  Art  thou  a  master  of  Israel,  and  knowesl 
not  these  things  ?  —  John  iii.  1-10. 

Two  contrasting  sides  of  Our  Lord's  character  are  brought 
into  striking  relief  by  the  first  two  incidents  of  his  ministry. 
The  energetic  measures  which  he  used  with  the  traders  in  the 
temple  were  followed  by  the  abstruse  utterances  with  which 
he  met  the  questions  of  Nicodejnus;  the  man  of  action  is 
transformed  into  the  mystic.  It  is  naturally  in  the  formei 
aspect  that  he  is  the  more  easily  understood,  and  it  is  this 
side  of  his  life  which  art  has  undertaken  to  illustrate.  A 
conversation  does  not  ordinarily  present  a  sufficiently  dramatic 
situation  to  attract  the  notice  of  an  artist,  and  for  this  reason 
the  Discourse  with  Nicodemus  is  seldom  made  the  subject  oi 
art. 

I  can  find  no  early  examples  of  its  treatment,  nor  does  it 
appear  in  any  of  the  famous  series  illustrating  Christ's  life 
previous  to  our  own  century.     There  are  a  few  rare  pictures 


ating  Ilie  inciJcnt,  cliiolty  il»  ■mirlhcm  art,  where  tba. 

(tOMibilitirii  of  a  iiigM -iwfltic  ivun  iiigri)  rewttljr  twted 
HwhcTV-  One  'jFaAo—  in  by  Fnuix  Fmnekvn  II.  to  th* 
ttt  Gnllerjr,  .Vjeift>j&.  It  iboMrii  aii  iiil«ri<>r  lig)it«d  by  % 
rith  ClirM/ieetoil  at  a  Utile  with  hl»  vwitor.  Smitb'a 
9guu  faUpDhi-"  describos  a  picture  liy  Rcmtinmlt  (a 
fat  SI,  Tetertburg),  nini  auother  by  Kiibeiis.  Tba 
put^na  nix  fi^xiKu  ill  hatMeti^lb. 
lOderit  art,  the  Duicoiiree  with  Niuodemiu  occurs  in  lbs 
f  illustratioDs  by  Bida  and  Ttssot.  The  former  chooses 
nertt  when  Nicodamua  enters  the  room  and,  leaning  on 
f  addresses  his  question  to  iletiiis,  who  is  seated  at  onn 
iking  down  eiully.  Titwot's  picture  is  intensely  oriental 
loter :  the  two  men  sit  i-)i-a-i<i.»  on  a  nig  abrarbed  in 
AMiBsion.     Their  positioD  in  tho  roar  of  n  large,  dimly 

apartment  impartti  nn  sir  of  mystery  ami  srcrecy  to  the 

'arge'B  fresco  in  Trinity  Church,  Boston,  is  well  known. 
uus  is  seated  &t  the  left  with  u  scroll  over  his  knee,  bis  ■ 
id  resting  thereon,  a.  finger  indicating  a  passage.  Christ 
lown  upon  him  from  an  easy  half  silting  posture  on 
1  of  a  stone  nrch,  and  listens  with  gentle  patience.  It 
>us  that  the  initiative  here,  as  in  Bida's  illustration,  is 
}y  Nicodemns  rather  than  by  Christ ;  the  ruler  is  the 
lersonage  of  the  dialogue,  Our  Lord  the  passive  listener. 

The  D18COURSK  WITH  THE  Woman  of  Samabia 

omelli  he  to  a  city  of  Samaria,  ivtiicli  is  called  S.vctiar,  near  to  the 
gronnd  tliat  Ja<:ob  gave  10  hia  son  Joseph. 

acob'a  well  was  there.     Jesus  tlierefore,  heiii^  wearied  with  his 
sat  thus  on  the  well;  mid  it  was  alwut  the  sixth  liutir. 
soDieth  a  woman  of  Samaria  to  draw  water:  Jesus  saith  unto  her, 
10  drink. 

s  disciples  were  gone  away  unto  the  city  lo  buy  meat.) 
aitli  the  woman  of  Samaria  unto  him,  How  is  it  that  thou,  being  a 
!St  drink  of  me,  which  am  a  woman  of  Samaria  '.'  lot  the  Jews  have 
gs  with  the  Samaiitans. 

Qswered  and  said  nnto  her,  If  thou  koewest  tlie  gift  of  God,  and  who 
saith  to  thee,  Give  me  to  drink;  thoDWOuldest  liave  asked  of  him,  and 
liave  given  thee  living  water. 

iinaii  ^aitli  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with,  and  the 
■ep:  from  whence  then  hast  thou  that  living  water  ? 
in  greater  than  our  father  Jacob,  which  gave  us  the  well,  and  drank 
imself,  and  bis  Ghildien,  and  his  cattle  ? 


FROM  THE  FIRST  TO  THE  SECOND  PASSO" 
answered  and  »aiil  unto  her,  Whosoever  drinketh  of  ll 
[  shall  give  him  eba 


laoeverdriiiketli  of  th 
Iter  that  I  »hall  j;ive 
ertaHting  life. 


.  shall  ht 


ell  ofw 


lailh  auto  hitn,  Sir,  give  me  this  water,  (hat  I  thii 
come  hither  tu  draw.  — Johb  iv.  5-15. 

That  same  beloved  disciple,  whose  finer  ins^ht  ii 
things  has  preserved  for  us  Our  Lord's  discourse 
demus,  omitted  by  the  other  Evangelists,  is  likewi 


ia  (ba=- 


recording  the  discourse  with  the  Samaritan  woman, 
naturally  come  to  associate  the  two  conversations 
belonging  to  the  same  Gospel,  and  there  are  deeper 
their  connection  in  the  quality  of  thought  conimc 
The  fonns  of  expieesion,  however,  are  much  more  . 


rch  maiie  it  promiiiebt  In  art  wlii1«  6 
Q  oxtcrnal  object  could  bo  ii«od  b>  vicpUui  < 
to  Nicodeiiins,  but  liie  teaching  tu  thti  wotDau 
Siimariii  cnald  «aailj  t 


ilhiotrntin)    by    th«    a] 

]>canuic4!  of  the  w«iU  an 

"      .f"^          1 

wnliT-(Hit     u    iiial«rii 

--  vWX.  -'     / 

symbols  of  the  water  < 

lit... 

^?^8lta"» 

The  Bubject  was  vei 

\    \OT2v 

frequent  in  the  enrliei 

}.■    ^M^ 

eeuturioe    among    emU 

=L^  J^^^<r 

comb  frescoes   and    d 

^(»^^ 

bofi-r^liefs  pf  All  kinds. 

The  primitivfl  coni)>OBi- 

J^t  lllvvyr-"*^^ 

tion  showed  simply  tlie 

two  figures  standing  on. 

either  aide  of  the  weU 

Our   Lord   pointing  \t 

the    bucket,    geatuiinf 

with   the  hand,   or  be 

1^ towing  thti  benediction. 

K   r^W 

Sometimes  he  currieB  a 

large  cross.    The  woman 

^^  T^^^Kl 

usually  holds  the  TopO) 

of    the    bucket   in    onq 

'        y./^^ 

hand,  and  with  the  oihst 

makes  a  gesture  of  satf 

prise.    On  the  throne  oj 

oinancf  Siimnriatraippin 

„     Bishop  Maximian,  Ba< 

LippiJ 

venna,  she  seems  to  hi 

raising  hei  hand  ii 
IB  gesture  of  benediction  as  Christ  himself  u 
teenth  and  seventeentli  centuries  the  Discouiacrfl 
iman  of  Samaria  developed  a  popularity  in  atifl 
e  difl'erent  teasous  from  those  which  first  cause' 
;ion.  It  was  then  that  dramatic  and  pictorial  qual-" 
erly  sought  after,  and  these  were  well  supplied  in 
A  landscape  setting  and  a  pretty  woman  in  an 
rprise,  or  rapt  attention,  were  attractive  elements 


to  the  artist.  The  Samaritan  woman  is  a 
charming,  bearing  her  water-pot  with  the  j 
She  stands  at  one  side  of  the  well,  while  0 
opposite  addressing  her.  The  disciples  appi 
tance.  Such  is  the  type-composition,  and  a 
pies  could  be  cited  corresponding  to  this  ge 
The  earlier  pictures  are  better  from  every  p* 
for  religious  significance  and  artistic  qualities 

A  picture  by  Moretto,  in  the  Morelli  col 
"  as  remarkable  for  its  fine  sentiment  as  foi 
coloring." 

A  small  picture  by  Filippino  Lippi  (a  par 
in  the  Seniinario,  at  Venice,  is  an  exquisit 
Against  the  background  of  a  high  mountair 
stand  together  beside  a  stone  well-curb  e 
with  Renaissance  designs.  The  delicately 
brought  into  immediate  opposition,  the  Sa'' 
being  one  of  gentle  explanation,  the  woman' 
quiry.  On  a  cartouche  below,  supported  by 
are  the  words  :  — 

SI    SCIRES 

DONUM 

DEI 

DA    MIHI 

HANC 

AQUAM 

The  inscription  is  a  keynote  to  the  moment 
Our  Lord  begins  his  explanation,  "  If  thou  k 
God,'^  and  the  eager  reply  comes,  "  Give  me 

By  Lucas  Cranach,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery 
Christ  and  the  Samaritan  woman,  treated  in 
German  manner.  A  large  round  well  is  a  c 
in  the  foreground,  separating  the  two  figures, 
on  the  edge  at  the  right,  raises  his  hand  in  fc 
The  Samaritan  is  a  pretty  young  girl  charmir 
German  costume  of  the  period,  with  a  prin 
her  head. 

The  Italians  of  the  later  sixteenth  and  the 
turies  all  treated  the  subject  in  a  sentimental 
way.     There   are    examples    by  Guido  Ken 


;  by  Annibale  Caracci  uml  I'.ilivtrii  iu  ili«  Bvhcdei^; 
7,  Vienna;  by  Botticiiii  {ur  "Vumii"),  ut  tko  Uffi^ 
7,  Florence,  repeating  the  eume  geaenil  typ«  withou^ 
ality  or  religions  insight.  j 

long  Bembrandt's  etcliiiiM.  wo  Hiiil  two  plates  devotacL; 
irist  and  the  SBmiiril m  \\<>mnn,  treating  the  sul^leet^ 
homely  realism,  but  mhI.   itiI'Iim-   cnnicahiew.     One    in. 

"At  the  Ruins"  (l("..';ij,  fmin  lln-  large  ruined  build-^ 

the  left  of  the  compwitiuii.  Tim  ^vell  U  at  the  righ^^ 
hit  Lord  sits  on  the  e<l>;«  umkiug  nu  expre^iuve  gestuM 
ingers  spread  apart,  a»  he  lunif  Ui  t!ie  woman  opposit&i 
■ther  picture  is  an  arched  priut  (KISS),  nnd  the  well  ie* 
t  the  left,  with  Jesus  xlitin^  btliind  it.  He  leans  far-i 
IS  he  Hpeake,  Bpreadiufj  lug  huiid  over  the  water  aa  if  to ' 
te  the  symbol.  . 

modern  art,  the  subject  of  ('hrist  end  the  Samaritacn 
.n  has  not  been  frequent,  An  interesting  picture  wMl 
d  by  an  English  artist,  Geoij;e  llichnioiid,  early  in  tha? 
y  (1828),  which  is  based  ou  the   Italian  niasteis,  b^t^ 

also  shows  the  influence  that  William  Blake  at  that' 
ixertcd  over  a  group  of  ymmg  ndniiri-rs.  The  Savionr 
:ed  on  »  hank,  leaning  against  tlie  wall  of  a  well,  and 
g  to  speak  to  the  Saniai'itan  woman,  who  ha»  approached 
he  other  side  and  now  listeuw  with  reverent  att«ntion. 
licture  is  in  the  National  Gallery,  lyUiidoii.      By  Bume- 

the  subject  is  used  for  the  central  light  of  a  window 
Peter's,  Vere  Street,  London. 

John  La  Farge,  in  the  frescoes  of  Trinity  Church,  Bos- 
le  Discourse  with  the  Samaritan  Woman  in  appropriately 
d  as  the  companion  subject  of  the  Discourse  with  Nico- 


i  Call  of  Pktbk  and  A^"DR^:w;  James  and 
AND  THE  Miraculous  Dkaucjht  of  Fishes 


le  eaith  unto  them,  Follow  i 

ne,  and  I  will  make  yo 

iiey  slraightway  left  their  n 

lets,  and  followed  him. 

going  on  from  tlience,  he  a 

aw  other  two  brtthren 

!,  «nd  John  his  hrother,  ill 

a  ahip  with  Zebedee  tli 

Is  ;  and  he  called  them, 

And  they  immediately  left  the  ship  and  their  father,  and  f 
Matt.  iv/l8-22. 

Now  when  he  had  left  speaking,  he  said  unto  Simon,  Laun 
deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught. 

And  when  they  had  this  done,  they  inclosed  a  great  multi 
and  their  net  brake. 

And  they  beckoned  unto  their  partners,  which  were  in  the  < 
they  should  come  and  help  them.    And  they  came,  and  filled 
so  that  they  began  to  sink. 

When  Simon  Peter  saw  it,  he  fell  down  at  Jesus'  knees, 
from  me  ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  0  Lord. 

For  he  was  astonished,  and  all  that  were  with  him,  at  the 
fishes  which  they  had  taken  : 

And  so  was  also  James,  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  whicl 
with  Simon.  And  Jesus  said  unto  Simon,  Fear  not ;  from  l 
shalt  catch  men. 

And  when  they  had  brought  their  ships  to  land,  they  forsoi 
lowed  him.  —  Luke  v.  4-11. 

The  call  of  the  four  fisher  disciples  is  given  by 
Evangelists,  —  by  St.  Matthew  (iv.  18-22)  and  i 
16-20)  somewhat  briefly,  and  by  St.  Luke  (v.  4-11) 
fuller  narrative  of  Christ's  preaching  from  Petei 
lowed  by  that  miraculous  draught  of  fishes  which 
four  partners  to  forsake  all  and  follow  Jesus.  1 
sions  present  no  serious  difficulty  to  the  harmoni 
have  been  made  the  basis  of  two  distinct  artisti 
tions.  Those  following  the  shorter  story,  whicl 
scene  on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  again  fall  into 
classes,  as  they  make  prominent  one  or  the  other 
pairs  of  disciples,  Peter  and  Andrew,  or  James  an( 
is  the  first  group  naturally  which  takes  precedence 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel,  where  all  the  surroundings 
to  the  glorification  of  the  prince  of  apostles.  [ 
Zebedee  appear  only  in  the  background,  where  t 
in  a  boat  with  their  father,  approaching  the  ban 
Christ  stands  beckoning.  Peter  and  Andrew  k 
lureground  on  the  shore  stretching  in  front  of  the 
fills  the  centre  of  the  picture.  Gilbert  praises  t 
ness  of  the  landscape,  the  excellent  perspective,  anc 
of  graceful  trees.  The  figures  of  the  apostles  a 
ceived  in  character  and  expression,  and  are  far  m( 
ing  than  the  Christ,  who  stands  giving  them  his  bh 
point  of  view  is  indeed  apostolic,  and  the  scene  is 


ktc  St,  IVlur"*  lit."  rather  Ihnn  Our  I^jnl'ii.     The  fote-j 
I  of  the  coid[>oiutiuti  in  crowdtid  with  fipmtatora  in  Ghir>  ' 
D*B  c)ur*'*'^hiitla  ctyle,  jtriiduRiiig  an  inlcrc*titig  pictoria] 
•^l  lewhett!,  ttut  jaiiitor'n  ■c^nic  prmlileO' 
I      ,».  "  portnituiK  mtv  i^ntirply  iiiMiiitnbte  fior  | 

berprvt  sUuple  tulu  of  t\ta  (Islii-nueii's  call  ai  | 

Lby  the  c^vangoiiSM.  Tiasot'it  wuteivculor  i;aai  lisek  to  tits  { 
[  aimplicity.  Christ  calls  from  the  opptMit«  Bbom,  and 
ro  men,  standing  kn«e-deep  in  the  lake,  witlt  truueetB 
up  in  fisherman  fashiont  pause  in  their  work  as  they 
is  voice,  and  ba«t«n  to  wadit  Mhore.  Bida's  illuetratioa,,; 
1  aimplo  orirt  offective.  Christ,  seen  from  the  rear,  standa 
igh  rock,  with  the  two  dlBciples  looking  »]>  to  him  from 
Kb  below,  liaviug  laft  the  ship  at  a  tittle  diat«nce  on 
u. 

■  Call  of  I'otHjr  and  Andrew  is  the  subject  ot  a  pictore  hy^ 
occi,  in  tho  Mueeiun  at  Brussels.  Jesus,  in  a  grey  dreai 
d  mantle,  etimds  on  the  shore,  turning  to  the  right,  Be-i 
:m  kneels  Peter,  boldiug  hie  cap  in  hie  hand ;  Androv 
stepping  from  the  boat,  which  a  young  man  pushea  tO 
nk  with  a  pole. 

the  Church  of  St.  Andrew  at  Antwerp  is  a  beautiful 
wood  pulpit  representing  the  call  of  the  first  two  dis- 
Hera  where  tho  scene  is  stripped  of  nil  needless  acceB- 
m  have  a  very  strong  and  real  reading  of  the  text.  Our 
r,  dignified  and  gentle,  stands  at  the  left  with  beckoning 
and  the  two  half-naked  fishermen,  with  brawny  muaclea 
renuous  faces,  tnm  earnestly  to  the  Master.  One,  bar- 
ling from  the  boat,  advances  to  meet  liira.  The  other 
3  seated. 

en  the  sons  of  Zehedee  are  the  object  of  Christ's  appeal^ 
and  Andrew  stand  Inside  tbeir  IVIaster.  This  is  illus- 
in  Mantegna's  picture  among  the  frescoes  executed  for 
remitani  Chapel,  Padua.  The  most  celebrated  treat- 
if  the  subject  is  by  Easaiti  in  two  similar  paintings  in 
mice  Academy  and  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna. 
rmer  was  painted  in  1510,  and  the  latter  some  five  years 
but  except  for  some  differences  in  the  landscape  setting 
e  reversal  of  the  figures,  the  composition  is  essentially 
ne  in  the  two.  Out  Lord  stands  on  the  shore  between 
o  older  disciples,  bending  to  bless  the  two  younger  men, 


HE    I^IHHT    ilJ  TUU   »EUUJ>JU   l-ASSI. 


The  Call  of  Petei  aad  Andrew  (pulpit  in  Church  of  St.  Aiidr 


who  have  just  stepped  out  of  their  boat.  Jam 
front,  and  John  presses  forward  behind  him,  while 
Zebedee,  still  stands  in  the  prow,  looking  on  u 
Behind  the  group  stretches  a  pleasant  landscape,  ' 
winding  river-like  between  castle-crowned  hanks,  i 
ing  the  distant  background.  The  earlier  writer! 
Kidolfi,  considered  the  painting  at  Venice  the  art 
piece,  and  while  later  judgments  upon  its  artis 
vary  widely,  it  ie  still  accounted  an  interesting 


RHnUi  estri'ine  delicacy  of  workmanship, 

spirit  of  reverence.      The  Call  of  James  and  Jolin  %' 

>riate  for  diurchea  tiedicated  to  citlior  one  of  tlioso  two 

}8.    Tbus  by  Cesi,  in  the  Church  of  S.  Giovanni  in 

la,  there  is  a  painting  of  the  aubjecl,  and  on  the 

Church  of  St.  JameB,  Philadelphia,  there  ia  h  ' 

Bitnie  incident. 
irbeok  treatt-d  the  subject  with  great  simplicity 

Our  liOrd  stands  on  the  lake  shore   between  Pelor 
Jidrew,  tiie    older  apostles    standing   on  the    left,    and 

and  John,  the  newly  called,  kneeling  in  their    boat 

up  on  the  beach  at  the  right.  The  Saviour's  ligure  is 
E  gentle  dignity  as  he  extends  his  right  hand  towards' 
ke  with  a  comprehensive  gesture, 
enever  a  laden  net  is  a  conspicuous  feature  of  the  scene 
bject  becomes  properly  The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishea. 
osition  of  Our  Lord  may  be  in  the  boat  or  on  the  shore ; 
Dment  chosen,  the  actual  drawing  in  of  the  net,  or  the 
B  of  unlading  it.  Among  the  mosaics  of  S.  Apollinare, 
na,  we  have  the  subject  in  its  simplest  form,  with  Christ 
Qg  on  the  fhore  blessing  the  two  men  in  the  boat  as 
jend  to  their  task,  one  holding  the  oar  and  the  other 
J  ill  the  net, 

Duccio  there  is  a  picture  of  the  same  subject  in  the 
Hon  of  Mr.  E,  Benson,  of  London. 

ire  are  two  notable  pictures  of  the  Miraculous  Draught 
iliar  as  to  need  no  long  description.  Raphael's  cartoon 
I  ^Kensington  Museum)  is  in  some  respects  the  beat  oJ 
onderful  series.  The  composition  covers  the  complete 
ve :  before  us  lies  the  sea  of  Gennesaret,  with  a  strip  of 
in  front,  and  in  the  distance  the  farther  shore,  where  the 
!  still  linger  which  bad  gathered  to  hear  the  Master's 
ing.  Two  boats  fill  the  field  of  vision,  the  one  contain- 
ir  Lord,  with  Peter  and  Andrew,  while  the  other  is  that 

partners,  James  and  John.  Every  figure  is  in  action: 
□rd,  sitting  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  at  the  left,  makes 
seal  with  a  motion  of  the  hand ;  Peter  falls  on  his  knees 

him  with  the  exclamation,  "  Depart  from  me  ;  "  Andrew 
behind  him  throws  out  both  hands,  palm  outwanl,  with 
miliar  Italian  gesture  of  deprecation.  Meanwhile,  the 
1  the  other  boat  are  straining  mightily  at  the  laden  nets. 


i 


The  Call  of  Jsmes  and  John  (Bauiti) 


1 


i  to  Raplint^rH  in  culubrity  i»  the  great  altar-piece  bf 
i,  at  Mei^tiliii,  iu  Ihrtw  coiufMirttneuta.    Uur  I<onl  in  Meen 
le  staiidiug  iii  onu  end  uf  tUc  bniit,  which  oxtenila  acroas 
ttre  of  the  cotnixniition.     He  puts  out  both  hantU  in 
what  meaningleu  gesture.     Opposite  hiiu  uts  Peter,   I 
;  his  cap  to  hia  breast  with  his  left  hand  and  gesturiug 
jl  right,     Andrew,  beside  him.  leans  over  to  manage  the    I 
lile  tinother  luan  beckons  to  the  [Mirtnrro  in  Ihc  other 
id  still  another  wields  an  oar.     On  the  shore,  three  men    , 
the  net,  two  of  Iboni  Ijiiig  in  tlio  wnlor  hnlf  naked,  to    , 
it  the  load.     Tliu  scone  in  oiio  which  might  he  noticed 
f  along  the  Hcheldt,  and  tlie  sunbumed  lishermen  were    ! 
m  directly  from  Flemish  models.     The  artistic  qualj- 
the  work  are  unquestiouubly  great,  and  in  its  vigorous    ' 
it  has  un  int«rcEt  entirety  ajiart  from  sacred  signifi'    1 

Saapard  de  Craeyer,  a  contemporary,  and  to  some  extent    I 
«tor,  of  Rubens,  there  is  a  painting  of  the  Miraculous 
it  in  the  Brussels  Museuui,   counted  among  hia    best  i 
Our  Lord  at  the  right  turns  to  the  group  of  men  ^ 
g  in  the  net  from  the  sea.     Peter  listi'ns  to  the  Master's 
at  the  same  time  showing  him  a  fish.     The  boat  is  just 
,  with  a  single  figure  in  it. 

Miraculous  Draught  was  one  of  tlie  four  subjects 
,  by  Jouvenet,  in  1700,  for  the  Church  of  St.  Martin 
.amps,  and  now  in  the  Louvre.  Christ  stands  in  the 
of  hia  disciples,  raising  his  hands  and  ujes  to  heaven, 
right,  a  man  fastens  the  boat  to  a  stake  by  a  rope,  and 
'omen  are  taking  the  fish  out  of  the  nets, 
st  Preaching  from  the  Ship  is  a  rare  subject  in  any 
I  can  mention  only  two  example.^  from  the  old  maa- 
■  by  Mazzolino  in  tiie  Louvre,  and  by  Jan  Brueghel,  in 
Th  re      a      py  pi  ca  of  the  latter  in  the  Itres- 

11    y       d    1 11        th     p    tnre  in  the  Turin  Gallery. 

d        I     t  t  j1     cited,  —  Tissot's  water- color 

th      11     t    t  f  tl        Life  of  Christ,"  and  one  by 

dhpanteCd      tm       A  noticeable  point  in  the 

th  t  th      h  p  f        siderable  size,  so  that  Our 

It       11        h        the  preacher  would  have  in 

y      tl    d    1  p    p  t 

mb     t    n    f  tl       ai  bjects  included  in  the  narra- 


FROM  THE  FIRST  TO  THE   SECOND   PASSOVER         11 

tive  was  taken  by  Burne-Jones  as  the  basis  of  a  window  desig 
for  the  New  Ferry  Church,  Cheshire,  England.  The  centn 
light  shows  Christ  seated  in  the  boat,  preaching  to  the  peop 
on  the  shore.  In  the  compartment  at  the  right  is  the  Mira 
ulous  Draught,  showing  James  and  John  busy  hauling  in  tl 
nets,  while  Peter  turns  to  the  Saviour  with  his  "  Depart  fro: 
me."  The  left  compartment  represents  Christ  standing  c 
the  beach,  with  Peter  kneeling  at  his  feet. 


V.   The  Healing  of  the  Demoniac  in  the  Synagogt] 

And  they  went  into  Capernaum ;  and  straightway  on  the  sabbath  day  ] 
entered  into  the  synagogue,  and  taught. 

And  there  was  in  their  synagogue  a  man  with  an  unclean  spirit;  and  1 
cried  out, 

Saying,  Let  us  alone ;  what  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  thou  Jesus  of  Naz 
reth  ?  art  thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  I  know  thee  who  thou  art,  the  Holy  0: 
of  God. 

And  Jesus  rebuked  him,  saying.  Hold  thy  peace,  and  come  out  of  him. 

And  when  the  unclean  spirit  had  torn  him,  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  ] 
came  out  of  him.  —  Mark  i.  21-26. 

On  several  occasions  Our  Lord's  tender  ministry  of  healic 
was  extended  to  demoniacs,  but  such  themes  have  naturall 
had  little  attraction  for  the  artist.  Again,  among  the  few  n 
presentations  which  may  be  found,  it  is  often  difficult  to  distil 
guish  what  special  incident  is  referred  to. 

In  Garrucci's  "  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana  "  is  an  engravii] 
of  an  ancient  ivory  carving  on  a  book  cover,  representing  tl: 
general  subject  in  a  symbolic  form.  Our  Lord,  holding  tl 
cross  in  his  left  hand,  exorcises  the  demon  by  raising  the  rigl 
hand,  the  evil  spirit  issuing  at  the  top  of  the  demoniac's  hea 
in  the  form  of  a  tiny  doll-like  figure  with  arms  extended  hor 
zon  tally. 

In  the  series  of  miracles  portrayed  in  the  frescoes  at  Oberzel 
the  Healing  of  the  Demoniac  takes  a  place.  The  subject  wj 
also  treated  by  Masaccio  in  a  picture  whose  present  wher 
abouts  is  unknown. 

That  the  demoniac  referred  to  is  he  who  was  cured  in  tl 
synagogue  of  Capernaum,  we  may  of  course  know  only  whe 
the  setting  is  definitely  that  of  a  temple  interior,  or  when  tl: 
subject  is  an  illustration  accompanying  the  text  of  the  Evai 


.1 


Tjgaot  Las  twice  illiintral^'^  thn  incidnni  in  hin  "  Lif«  «l' 
,"  —  oncQ  for  tho  rorwion  of  }^t.  Mnrk.flml  igiiiii  for  thatoT 
kc,  tboiigh  the  narrntivo  in  KtihsUntmlly  tlm  same  in  tbfl  i 
eonls.  In  the  tint  picttini,  Oiriat  {ioiiit»  to  tlin  d^nioiiiM  t 
ihe  rctirling  ili>»k  at  wliich  lin  4lanON,  buiI  ttia  man  fallfl^ 
Mforn  t))(i  iniperativH  gesture.  In  the  uthir  roproeente- | 
ihrist  rniiieH  a  twisted  ro[ie  and  drivi'it  t\n^  inun  fortli  after 
inner  of  cxpelliug  the  tnutere  froiti  tlio  ti!iii{ile, 

VI.   Christ  IIsAi-isn  tiik  Siik 
General  Suhjret 


t  mij''i  I"  iiiiii'..!  "Iiich  wu)  upAkeii  by  EuJBa  the  propliet,  (^infe. 
too.  <:i>i  Ijirc  OUT  lieknciiMM.  —  Matt.  vili.  IS,  IT. 

esui-  .  '  '  "iiil'i.', IcKhing  ill  thvir  ej'tiB^guaii and pntdi^ 
gw\.'  I  '  I   i'> '  .   I '..'I ,  iind  btftling  %\\  rouineiof  Hckneu  and  att' 

of  dl-.':.-.rniiir>IIRlLli.-pmple. 

lis  li\ni!  n'l'nt  ibraagbnuc  all  Syria:  and  they  brought  unto  him  alt. 
iple  tliut  VI6TP  lakrii  with  dircn  diMiMS  and  torments,  aod  tbow-l 
■ere  |pii--cL.«(i  H-ilh  di'Vils,  and  (bnun  whirh  vinB  lunatick,  and  lho»e 
I  the  pal»y;  and  he  healed  th«iii,  —  Matt.  iv.  i%  24. 

answered  and  said  unto  Iheni,  Go  and  ^lii'w  .Inhn  again  those  things 

e  do  hear  and  see : 

Iind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed, 

deaf  hear,  the  dead  are  raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel 
1  to  them.  — Matt,  xi.  4,  B. 

unio  me,  all  ye  that  labour  anil  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
Uatt.  xi.  28. 

the  Pharisees  went  out,  and  held  a  council  against  him,  how  they 

estroy  him. 

hen  Jeaus  knew  it,  he  withdrew  himself  from  thence:  and  great  multi- 

Uowed  him,  and  he  healed  them  all.  —  Matt.  xii.  H,  15. 

rhen  they  were  gone  over,  tliey  came  info  Ihe  land  of  Gennesarel. 

'hen  the  men  of  that  place  had  knowledge  of  him,  they  sent  out  into 

country  round  about,  and  brought  unto  him  all  that  were  diseased; 

lesought  him  that  they  might  only  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment:  and 

-  as  touched  were  made  perfectly  whole.  —  Matt.  xiv.  34-36. 

oediately  after  the  call  of  the  first  disciple*),  Our  Lord 
his  ministry  to  the  sick  by  healing  the  demoniac  in  the 
■gue  Then  followed  the  restoration  of  Peter's  wife's 
r,  and  on  that  \erj  evening  \w  was  hesieged  h\  a  multi- 
if  the  aick  and  afflicted  whom  he  restored  to  health. 
I  out  from  Capernaum  on  a  tour  of  Galilee,  his  teaching 


JJKUM.    THJS    flKST    TU    THIS    mSUUXSJJ    JfAS 

was  everywhere  accompanied  by  active  deeds  of 
the  diseased,  and  through  the  rest  of  his  life  I 
went  on  continually  among  the  people  who  thro 
The  occasions  on  which  he  healed  large  number 
not  mentioned  by  the  Evangelists  with  any  desc 
and  the  old  masters  did  not  venture  beyond 
limits  of  specific  incidents.  The  general  sub. 
healing  the  Sick  is  distinctly  modern,  dating  in 
teenth  century.  Rembrandt's  "  Hundred  Gwi. 
comes  to  mind  at  once  as  the  most  celebrated 
example.  I  quote  Mrs.  Jameson's  description : 
seen  in  front  with  a  large  glory  surrounding  h: 
leaning  upon  what  looks  like  a  fragment  of  mai 
hand  raised,  and  the  right  hand  extended  towai 
A  woman  who  has  been  brought  before  him  is  1 
tress  ;  near  her  is  an  old  woman,  who  stretches 
eled  hands,  as  if  in  supplication.  Another  worn 
with  a  sick  child.  To  the  right  are  other  sic! 
persons,  —  one  has  been  brought  in  a  wheelbarro 
is  an  aged  woman  leading  an  aged  man.  On 
again,  are  seen  several  persons  who  appear  tc 
about  the  miracles  performed  in  their  sight; 
'When  Christ  cometh,  will  he  do  more  miracles 
hath  done  ?  '  In  the  background  is  seen  an  El 
camel,  to  denote  that  many  who  were  present  ] 
a  great  distance,  led  hither  by  the  fame  of  Our  i 

By  Jouvenet,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  is  a  picti 
illustrate  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew 
heals  the  sick  by  the  shores  of  the  lake.  Our 
in  the  midst,  stretching  out  his  hand  over  the 
about  him  on  the  ground.  Others  are  brougl 
rear. 

Another  picture  of  the  same  subject  is  in  th( 
lery,  and  is  the  work  of  Christian  Wilhelm  En 
German  painter  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Christ  healing  the  Sick  is  one  of  the  finest  c 
Overbeck's  Gospel  series.     Our  Lord  stands  at 
broad  flight  of  stone  steps,  on  which,  as  on  th< 
Piazza  di  Spagna,  Rome,  the  poor  and  lame 
gathered.     They  cluster  about  him  importunat 

1  So  called  from  the  price  set  on  it  by  the  ina 


iiif.  larr.  of  oin  Lonn  is  *bt  ^^ 

fl  temleroeu  lie  betide  forward  to  place  liu  harnifi  on 
■  y  lei         at  bin  feet.   Atoneside  Jsngronp 

0  h  >Ted,  rejoicing  over  the  luiracJc. 
■mn.  ul^t<ct  of  Chriat  healiog  the  Sick 

1  for  tne  i-eniuylvapia  ilospilal,  when  the  artist 
v«  ye^ra  of  age.  The  origiiinl  picture  was  aald  id 
d  a  replica  was  aent  to  Aiaorica.  The  compotution 
ickcil  with  figures  gathering  about  the  Great  Physi- 
Ui<ls  in  tlio  foreground,  soniouhnt  at  the  left  of  the 
ig  out,  nitli  botli  band«  extonilixl  in  a  beneficent 
is  an  itnpresBive  and  dignified  composition,  but  the 
s  of  n  vagiio  general  philanthropy  rather  than  the 
mnl  ministry  to  each  individual  '.     ich  is  expressed 

here  are  two  modem  Gurmnn  pi"''  res  t*  be  noticed 

contrasting  chanictur.  (hw  in  i  drawing  in  the 
)f«!SKor  Hofmaim.  Our  Lord  atamia  bending  gently 
baV  held  by  u  uiotlier  kneoUn^  before  bini.  He 
laii.l  ,111  Mk'  rliiKIV  liL'ad  i.iid  with  bis  other  clasps 
iTiip  littlo  iinii.     An  interested  group  of  spectators 

including  a  man  leaning  on  a  crutch,  a  helpless 

gilt  by  two  friends,  and  others. 

an's  picture  brings  Christ's  ministrations  into  our 

>n  every-day  life.      Tlie  Lord  has  come  into   the 

f  the  simple,  hard-working  poor.     A  sick  boy  lies 

)allet,  with  two  women  kneeling  beside  him.     The 

)ds  over  the  pathetic  figure,  and  all  the  room  is 

lis  presence. 

)  the  general  subject  of  Christ  healing  the  Sick  is 

pictures  based  on  Our  Lord's  beautiful  invitation, 
)  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
ou  rest."  The  treatment  is  here  more  ideal  and 
n  method,  and  the  group  of  which  Our  Lord  is  tbe 
iposed  of  all  classes  and  conditions.  In  St.  Luke's 
ew  York,  is  a  fine  window  containing  a  design  of 

Christ  sits  on  a  throne  in  tbe  centre,  attended  on 
by  the  archangels  Michael  and  Gabriel.  Ou  the 
are  various  groups  of  the  sick  and  sorrowing,  the 
sed  and  the  sin-laden. 

ir  picture  of  the  same  subject  is  by  A.  Dietrich, 
s  in  the  middle  of  a  landscape,  with  hands  extended 


FIIOM    THE    FmST    TO    THE    SECOND    rASSOVEIl  1 

aiid  face  looking  steailfusily  out  towards  the  spectator.  Abo 
hira,  kneeling  and  standing,  gather  the  weary  hearted,  the  xnc 
conspicuous  place  in  the  foreground  being  given  to  two  you 
girls,  supported,  half  fainting,  in  the  arms  of  others. 

Ary  SchefFer's  well-known  Cristus  Gonaolator  belongs 
the  same  class  of  idealized  pictures,  though  the  text  select 
by  the  artist  for  representation  is  Luke  iv.  18,  and  spec: 
emphasis  is  laid  upon  the  deliverance  of  captives. 

In  Tiasot's  "  Life  of  Christ,"  several  water-colors  illnstra 
different  passages  of  the  Evangelists,  which  refer  to  Our  Lore 
ministry  to  the  sick,  as  Matt.  xiv.  34-36,  Mark  vi.  1-5,  ai 
others. 

VII.   The  Lefeb  Gleaksed 


And  it  came  to  pass,  wlien  lie  was  in  K  it 

rtain  tity,  beliold  a  man  full 

leprosy:  who  seeing  Jeaui  fe!l  oa  his  face,  i 

id  besought  him,  aayiLg;  Lo 

And  he  put  forth  his  hand  and  touched  hi 

n,  ssvinir.  Iwill:  be  thou  clei 

And  iiumediatdv  the  Ic|)rosy  departed  from 

im.-Ll-KEv.l3,  IS. 

Christ  healing  the  Leper  [rotii 


■  nn  nmlUr  of  siiriirisn  llmt  the  rleatising  •>{  the  leper 
been  a  common  urt  subject  in  niiy  era.  We  search  in 
r  any  rvprcMiitatiou  of  it  Riiiong  early  Clirixliaa  inonu- 
or  umong  the  niosterpiecea  of  the  Kenaissituice.  Tha 
torco  of  examples  is  iu  the  illniuiuat«d  mnnuscripts  of 
-Bliem,  and  we  fiud  the  subject  txicuiring  in  all  three 
Bookti  which  we  have  taken  as  typical  of  their  class 
a  well  us  in  the  C'oilex  of  Egbert.  It  is  also  among  the 
I  of  the  Monreale  Cathedral.  In  the  series  of  miracles 
on  the  walla  of  the  Church  of  St.  George,  Oberzell,  ths 
naturally  finds  a  place,  and  it  occurs  in  due  course  in 
ted  Bibles.  In  Bida'a  etching,  Christ  standing  &t  the 
lys  his  hand  on  the  forehead  of  an  old  man  oonipletely 
wd  in  heavy  drapery,  who  bends  reverently  towards 
The  Saviour's  expressiou  is  one  of  gentle  beneficence. 
Cleansing  of  the  Leper  is  the  subject  of  one  of  the 
in  a  largo  fresco  by  Cosimo  Roeolli,  in  the  Sistins  ' 
,  where  the  leading  place  is  given  to  the  Sermon  on  the 
the  two  incidents  being  closely  connected  in  the  Goa- 
3t.  Matthew.  Tlie  leper  kneels  in  the  foreground  in 
;ude  of  supjilicatioii,  aud  Christ,  advancing  a  little  from 
]pany  of  disciples  forming  a  semicircle  about  him,  raises 
A  in  benediction. 

VIII.    The  Paralytic  Healed 

lehold,  men  brought  in  >  bed  a  man  vrhicli  was  taken  with  a  palsy  : 
sought  meanu  to  bring  liim  in,  and  to  lay  liim  before  him. 
'hen  they  coulil  not  find  liy  what  way  tliey  might  hring  him   in 
of  tlie  multitude,  they  went  upon  the  housetop,  and  let  him  down 
the  tiling  wifli  hi»  couch  into  the  midst  before  Jeaus. 
lien  he  saw  their  faith,  he  aaid  unto  him,  Man,  thy  sins  are  forgiven 

he  scribes  and  the  Pharisees  began  to  reason,  saying,  Who  is  this 

leaketh  blasphemies  ?    Who  can  forgive  sins,  hut  God  alone  ? 

hen  Jesus  perceived  their  thoughts,  he  answering  said  uato  them, 

ason  ye  in  your  hearts  ? 

ler  is  easier,  fo  say,  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  ;  or  to  say,  Rise  up 

lat  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath  power  upon  earth  to  for- 


nmediately  he  rose  up  before  them,  and  took  up  that  whereon  he  1 
irted  to  his  own  house,  glorifying  God. 

hey  were  all  amazed,  and  they  glorified  God.  and  were  dlled  v 
-ing,  We  have  seen  strange  things  today.  —  Luke  v.  18-36. 


FROM  THE  FIRST  TO  THE   SECOND 

Conspicuous  among  the  few  miracles  of  1 
representation   in  early  Christian  art  is  ti 
Paralytic.      Among  the  mosaics  of  S.  Ape 
venna,  the  whole  story  is  told  with  simpli 
In  the  first  scene,  we  have  at  the  right 
house  with   two  tiny   figures  on  the 
roof,  holding  suspended  by  ropes  the 
couch   on    which    the    paralytic    lies. 
Christ  stands  outside,  being  just  the 
height  of  the  building,  and,   turning 
to  the  right,  raises  his  hand  in  the  act 
of  benediction.    Another  mosaic  shows 
a  man  walking  away  with  his  couch, 
Christ  and  another  figure  standing  at 
the  left.     This  may  be  the  latter  part 
of  the  same  story,  or  it  may  refer  to 
the  impotent  man  restored  at  the  Pool 
of  Bethesda,    upon    whom   the   same 
command  was  laid,  to  take  up  his  bed 
and  walk.     Where  there  are  no  addi-       ii 
tional  accessories  it  is  of  course  impos- 
sible to  identify  the  incident  with  ab- 
solute certainty.     Equally  applicable 
to  either  is  a  group  found  on  many       > 
early  sarcophagi,    showing    the   three      ^ 
figures,  —  Christ,  the  man  with  a  bed     C^' 
on  his  back,  and  a  spectator.     The  fig-        , 
ure  carrying  the  bed  is  of  diminutive        g 
stature,  like  a  child,  and  is  heavily 
weighted  with  the  bench-like  pallet,  unde 
Christ  often  carries  a  scroll  in  one  hand,  an 
towards  the  beneficiary.     This  group  app< 
subject  with  the  Healing  of  the  Blind  Mar 
each  other  on  each  side  of  the  centre  of  th 
the  sarcophagus. 

Among  the  catacomb  frescoes  we  find  th< 
man  carrying  a  bed  on  his  back.  There  a 
circular  ceiling  of  S.  Callisto,  and  in  S.  Ag 
the  allusion  is  still  more  vague,  and  withou 
it  either  as  the  paralytic  or  the  impotent 
to  say  that  it  is  a  general  symbol  for  Chri 


THF.  MFK  OF  nVR  LOKP   IN   ART  ^PlB 

till!  laniti.      Wi!  ha\n  alntitily  m».u  (p.  8)  that  the  mit- 

li«altnK  were  among  the  vutyecU  whiob  did  not  snr- 
«  tranBilton  from  enrly  to  later  Ohmtian  art,  and  the 
;  of  the  I'Aralyttc  w&s  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Doubt- 
V8S  oc«asiiinally  included  among  tha  miniaturea  at 
ited  ni&iiiiBcri|ttA,  as  in  the  Gosginl  itook  of  Gotha,  but 
m  in  no  iioluhle  serieg  saving  oTily  thnt  nt  MeEEarata, 
blogna,  where  the  exception  JH  so  int^rcnting  that  I  i 
^nl  Lindsay's  deBcription  of  tho  compoaitiou :   "Our 

■its  among  his  disciples,  diiwourning,  while  those  with- 
over  the  roof  of  the  house  und  let  down  the  man  sick     I 
pftUy,  who  turiifl  to  Christ  with  tl8B|wd  liands,  whilo 
ight  ho  IB  seen  walking  away  healed,  with  his  ntattresa     , 
[  upon  hia  ahouldera.     The  whole  compoeition  ia  very     ( 
Qt  it  ia  full  of  life  and  character." 

y  mention  next  a  picture,  hy  one  of  tho  Van  Orlcy  fam-  ( 
resenting  tho  ecene  with  no  little  dramatic  force.  The 
is  a  paved  court  with  a  balcony  in  the  rear,  from  wliich 
le  ropes  recently  put  into  service.  The  paralytic  stands 
just  raising  his  bed  over  his  shouldors.  Christ,  with 
.ched  hand,  is  at  the  right,  turning  nbniit  lo  apeak  to  a 
lehiiid  him. 

Healing  of  tho  Paralytic  naturally  finds  place  among 
strations  of  Bida  and  Tissot,  and  in  both  cases  it  is  an 

scene.  Tissot  chooses  the  picturesque  moment  when 
den  is  being  lowered  into  the  room,  with  all  eyes  fixed 
s  descent.  Bida  portrays  the  later  moment,  and  shows 
1  lying  on  the  pallet  with  clasped  hands,  while  Christ 
lis  right  hand  commandingly,  the  finger  pointing  up, 
■■  turned  compassionately  upon  the  sick  man. 

IX.   The  Oall  of  Matthew 

<  Jpsiis  paE^j'fd  fnrtli  from  tlicnce,  ke  ^w  a  iiinn.  iininor!  Matthew, 


1  Binncrs  came  and  Mt  down  w 

i  dissimilar  in  circumstances  to  the  call  of  the  fisher 
s,  the  Call  of  Matthew  is  also  much  less  suggestive  to 
Stic  imagination.     The  character  of  this  apostle  has  not 


FROM  THE  FIRST  TO   THE   SECOND   PASSOVER         1$ 

indeed  that  striking  individuality  which  makes  his  relations 
Our  Lord  in  any  way  prominent. 

It  is  only  in  that  rich  storehouse  of  treasures,  the  mosaics 
S.  Apollinare  Kuovo,  Ravenna,  that  we  find  any  early  examp 
of  the  call  of  the  publican.  Here  we  have  all  the  elemen 
that  make  up  the  typical  composition  of  a  later  period.  Chri 
stands  at  the  right  with  his  hand  raised  in  blessing ;  the  apost 
is  at  the  left,  standing  beside  his  desk  with  his  hand  restii 
on  it. 

The  subject  belongs  naturally  to  the  life  of  St.  Matthe 
rather  than  to  the  life  of  Our  Lord,  and  is  found  in  the  seri 
treatment  of  the  former.  Such  a  series  is  in  the  Church  of 
Maria  in  porto  fuori,  Eavenna,  attributed,  though  probab 
erroneously,  to  Giotto.  In  the  call  as  represented  here  tl 
apostle  rises  eagerly  from  his  table  at  the  right,  about  to  f( 
low  the  Master,  who  is  already  receding  at  the  left.  Our  Lo 
seems  to  hasten  on  as  if  bent  on  some  important  errand,  tur 
ing  around  to  speak  to  Matthew,  and  at  the  same  time  poii 
ing  without  with  both  hands.  The  action  of  both  figui 
suggests  the  haste  of  an  imperative  summons. 

A  series  of  pictures  devoted  to  St.  Matthew,  painted  1 
Caravaggio  for  S.  Luigi  de'  Francesci,  Rome,  contains  also  t' 
call  of  the  apostle,  treated  after  the  coarse  and  powerful  ma 
ner  of  the  artist. 

We  have  but  few  separate  Italian  pictures  of  the  Call 
Matthew,  and  these  chiefly  by  the  later  artists,  as  L.  Carac" 
in  the  Bologna  Gallery,  and  Jacopo  Chimenti  (da  Empoli), 
the  Uffizi,  Florence.  Chime nti's  picture  portrays  the  apost 
as  a  handsome,  graceful  youth  of  a  romantic  character  '\ 
rarely  connect  with  the  publican.  The  Christ  is  of  the  ge 
tie  effeminate  type  of  the  decadence,  but  not  without  digni 
and  attractiveness,  as  he  gestures  to  his  new  disciple  to  folk 
him. 

The  Call   of   Matthew   was   not  an   uncommon  subject 
northern  art,  and  there  are  interesting  examples  from  the  earli 
period  by  Hemessen  and  Mabuse.^    In  the  seventeenth  centu 
they  became  quite   numerous,  and  were    treated  with  gre 
attention  to  detail. 

In  the  Brunswick  Gallery  is  a  picture  by  Nicolas  Moyae: 
and  another  in  Berlin  by  Salomon  Koning.    Both  recall  at  on 
1  See  Mrs,  Jameson's  Sacred  and  Ler/endary  Art,  p.  137. 


in  ui  n«iuiti»ii(lt,  ill  wliom  Aloyuert  U  jiutly  cousldered    j 
ireor,  while   KoiiinK  tic<;anic  a  di-'Vote<l  follover  of  tUe 
>utch  naatcr.     The  meUD  is  tho  interior  of  «  large 
1  iiftny  clorka  busy  over  their  ledgers.     Oiir    , 

door  at  the  farther  side,  beckoning  to  1 
=v  iiew  has  risen  from  his  place  at  the  taUe,    ' 

[lor-raoi  wim  uia  eyes  fixed  on  the  distant  figure.  | 

Bture  in  a  similar  style  is  described  in  Smith's  "  Cata-    ■ 
lisonn^,"  and  is  attributed  there  to  K\tl>ens.  j 

icturo  by  Otto  Voenius,  in  the  Antwerp  Museum,  la 
the  bast  works  of  this  Flemish  painter.  Christ  stuids 
foot  of  a  stairway,  beckoning  to  Matthew,  who,  risiiig  i 
8  desk,  hastens  down  the  steps,  bending  forward  eagerly, 
it  hand  still  holding  a  paper,  and  his  left  pointing  to 
lat. 

Call  of  Matthew  is  among  the  illustrations  of  the  "Life 
it "  by  Bida  and  by  Tissot.  Both  of  these  modem  art- 
e  ua  an  oriental  street  scene,  showing  Christ  stopping 
way  to  summon  the  tax-gatherer,  lu  Bida'a  etching 
rd  is  a  gentle  and  dignified  figure,  beckoning  with  hia 
id.  The  apostle  looks  siirprisod,  and  lays  his  hand 
on  his  breast.  In  Tissot's  water-color  the  summons 
conventional,  Christ  raising  his  band  in  benediction, 
[east  which  St.  Matthew  afterwards  made  in  Our  Lord's 
i  not  marked  by  any  event  save  the  Pharisees'  surprise 
ate  with  publicans  and  sinners,  and  the  answering 
Lacking  in  action,  the  scene  has  not  been  treated  in 
-  by  Veronese,  who  lost  no  opportunity  to  paint  a  ban- 
subject.  His  picture  is  a  great  canvas,  jwinted  for  tho 
y  of  SS.  Giovanni  e  Paolo,  and  now  in  the  Venice 
.y.  The  table  is  laid  in  the  central  arcade  of  a  splendid 
Our  Lord,  in  the  middle,  facing  out,  converses  with 
iples  at  his  right.  Many  and  varied  groups  of  figures 
'he  efiectiveness  of  the  composition  as  a  brilliant  ban- 
scene,  but  the  work  counts  for  little  as  an  interpreta- 
the  life  of  Christ. 


tow   THK  SECOXP  TO   THE  THIRD  I'ASS- 
U  VIC  It 

i  Impotent  Man   Hkai.ki)  at  tiik  I'noi.  of  Bk- 

TIIKXDA. 

«)«  i>  at  JrruJulpiLi  liv  tbc  •licep  luvkft  ■  |-tml,  ubinh  U  called  In    i 

IT  loriguc  IttlliVHtu,  lutvliig  Arc  jHirrtirj-.  < 

•  hl.r  ■  lEivat  inu1lilufli>  of  iniiwtftit  folk,  of  bimil.  halt,  wiUlMviI,     ' 

a  the  moviii);  ot  lh«  WtXet. 

Kn|[i-I  wi-nt  duvrn  kt  m  vvriiuii  wbbud  into  Ihv  |w'-1,  auJ  troublvd  tha 

wwrtVLT  thtn  llrat  tllor  Iho  Iruubliiiy  i>t  tlie  <riitDr  Btopind  in  was 

4*  of  whaMiAvcr  diiawxii  liu  liad. 

Bcriain  inui  wna  Ibsrc,  wlikb  bad  ru  ialirniily  IliiKf  and  Bight 

[fni>  Mw  bim  He,  and  Vnew  that  he  had  boeii  now  a  long  dmo  in 
.Itc  ntlih  UAlD  him,  Wilt  tbuu  be  uudi!  nhiilu  ?  ^ 

IWtent  nuu]  aniwercd  liitn.  Sir,  I  have  iiu  man,  wlien  ibe  water  it 
U  put  lae  inio  Ihc  [hH'I:  but  wltlltt  I  am  ('uiniii^-,  uiuithvr  HteppMI) 

lilb  itiito  liini    Itise   laki-  tip  lliv  Iwd  and  walk 

lined  1  bie  bed,  and 

iiid        h  ^        b  - 

Of,             J     'ifll  m    t      fea  t               Our  Lord's 

ord  d      t       tl  f  th        1    t     t             t  the  pool 

3sd        n           d    t  t    be    1       d      11    tl  e  Healing 

L'ai  lyt  be  g  f  tl  f  1  of  healing 
as  ly  t  Ij  t  tl  1  1  k  tl  latter,  its 
Ity  d  d      t      d  th 

rioi        p         t  t  ig  tl     Ix       1    f    of  a  sarco- 

in  tl     L  t         M  R  m       I          m]     tiitenta  tell 

■y,  tl     1                   ]  th              1}              his  couch, 

uppe              p         I  f,  1             t      d       1      frying  the 

y  o    h     b    k       ri  fg          f  tl                    jing  a  bed 

hack      f  in  1  If             t        ly      t,  and  has 

bee        f       d  to  d            tl       t  p      <p    lift).      It 

lally  11  he  5  1  11  t  t  f  the  Healing 
nip  t     t  M        t  B  tl     d 


■  K[)  T    THr  riiiitr 


Aft      tl 


I 


1 1 


f  th  bj    t  pt  f     t! 

"it       (  li    h  th  (      p  1  Book 

f        h           pi         Th  bj    t 

Mezz  rat     d  1j  d  th  hy  Lo  i!  L    di-aj       '  The  augel  d 

uJ    t    t      bl  th        te  k  p    ai      ta  Us  iu  it  prayini 

tl          ppl        h  has  b  ff       g  f     til   4  eight  years,  si 


1  ng  blank  in  tl 

t      a  of  illuminati 

f  (.  otha  and  Tri 

g  the  frescoes 


Han  (after  Yen  Dyck) 


Up  in  liei-l  in  the  centre  of  the  composition,  looking  with  ei 
nest  supplicatory  gaae  and  clasped  bands  towards  Christ,  wht 
attention,  however,  is  drawn  away  from  him  by  another  wo 
of  love,  the  resuscitation  of  a  little  child."  We  may  nc 
here  that  lack  of  discrimination  common  to  the  early  paiiite 
whose  only  Bible  was  tradition,  iu  portraying  as  a.  supplica 
one  who  had  no  thouglit  of  asking  a  favor. 

In  the  later  si.\teenth  aud  the  seventeenth  centuries  t 
miracle  at  Bethesdu  was  singled  out  from  other  similar  in 
deuts  for  s]iecial  favor.  There.are  esamples  by  h.  Caracci, 
Parmigiano,  hy  Tintoretto,  in  the  serieB  at  S.  Bocoo,  by  Pel 
van  Lint,  and  hy  Poussin. 


inn«t  fsiiiou»  oi  ull  i*  by  Murilla,  jiuiriM  fur  Uie  Ho»- 
f  ClisriLy  nt  St-villi?,  but  uuw  m  a  [irivate  oollectioit  in 
id.  Our  hoTil  etatvlt  in  the  c«iitre  lookiii|[  down  on 
A  nian,  who  li«is  sliwtchnl  on  a  coucli  iii  the  extreme 
'  tho  fongroimd.  Tho  head  of  the  Saviour  ie  a  nobis 
dI  mniiljr  brniUy.  II?  Kochm  bin  band  dowu  with 
jr  hcliifiihiiM  to  wiy,  (.'unic,  nriw.  The  Biiii)ilicity  at 
(«oii  <;uiiLm«l«  »trnti;^ly  will]  the  cunvciitioiml  treatmeut 
Ati  iw  )iiuiKt,  whnni  his  gnsturo  is  commnniliiig,  as  that 
ogiuiati,  ur  hlessing,  as  that  of  a  pricsl.  Ilirua  diwiplea 
any  Our  Lurd  and  an.-  just  bthiiid  the  {inmlylic, 
g  over  a  littlt  U>  peer  at  him  with  (.-iiriusity.  Tha 
Dund  showa  u  riuli  arcadtid  [lortico  tmrrouiiditi^  u  |x>ol, 
which  eeverol  of  tho  iinjiotvnt  are  gathert'd,  wliilu  an 
hovtirs  far  abitve  in  thu  Upper  air.  Critics  aru  united 
cing  thi«  boaiitifitt  picture  in  the  foremost  rank  of 
l/t  works.  It  wnH  nt  one  tiniu  owned  by  the  Etigiiah 
Ifr.  Samuel  Kii^ers,  at  whoso  Iiouse  Mrs.  Jameson  asw 
'riting  of  it  aftuTwurda  she  »iid,  "  For  grandeur  and^ 
.  for  the  sober  yet  mimical  splenilor  of  coloring,  iot  itV 
iltogetliLT  on  the  fecliii^'a  ami  ou  the  p,yi\.  there  are  few 
tiotis  of  aii  that  can  \ie  conijKircd  to  lliis." 
iaintin<,'  after  Van  Uyck,  in  tlic  Muiiicli  Gallery,  called 
talking  with  tho  Lame  Man,  whom  he  has  cured,  refers 
tly  to  the  incident  at  the  pool  of  Ijethestla.  The  com- 
n  consists  of  a  group  of  half-lenglh  figures,  Our  Lord  in 
itre  turning  pitifully,  hut  as  if  with  sorrow,  to  the  old 
.  his  rij;ht.  The  latter  carries  ,1  Inmdle  of  bedding  under 
»,  and  bends  towards  Ida  beni^fuctor  with  nu  expression 
ent  gratitude.  Two  other  figures  are  seen  in  the  rear. 
I  and  Tiasot  both  include  the  subject  in  their  set  of 
itioiis,  showing  in  each  case  the  actual  moment  of  healing. 
Bida,  Our  Lord's  gesture  is  one  of  command,  raising  the 
and  as  he  speaks ;  with  Tissot,  it  is  one  of  benediction. 

The  Man  with  the  Withfred  Hand  Healed 

.  came  10  paan  oIew  on  anotlicr  Eiabliath,  that  he  filtered  Into  the  syna. 
Ill  tniight:  and  Ihere  was  a  iiibii  whose  right  hand  uas  nitliered. 
le  scribes  and  Pliarixees  natclied  him,  whether  lie  would  hcnl  on  the 
day;  tlial  lliey  miffht  find  an  nccuimtioii  againwl  him. 


FROM  THE  SECOND  TO  THE  THIRD  PASSOVER 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  them,  I  will  ask  you  one  thing;  Is  it  lawful  on 
sabbath  days  to  do  good,  or  to  do  evil  ?  to  save  life,  or  to  destroy  it  ? 

And  looking  round  about  upon  them  all,  he  said  unto  the  man.  Stretch  f 
thv  hand.     And  he  did  so:  and  his  hand  was  restored  whole  as  the  other. 

And  tiiey  were  tilled  with  madness;  and  communed  one  with  another  -v 
they  might  do  to  Jesus.  — Luke  vi.  6-11. 

For  illustrations  of  the  miracle  of  Healing  the  Withered  H; 
we  must  look  entirely  in  modern  art.  The  subject  is  practice 
omitted  from  the  New  Testament  cycle  from  beginning  to  < 
of  the  era  of  great  Christian  art  except  in  a  few  cases 
mediaeval  series  which  are  uncommonly  complete,  such 
the  mosaics  of  the  Monreale  Cathedral  and  the  Gospel  B( 
of  Trier. 

I  have  seen  an  old  engraving,  after  John  Van  Orley,  re] 
senting  the  scene  in  a  dignified  composition.  The  settini 
tlie  ])ortico  of  a  temple,  where  the  principal  figures  are  grou 
about  a  pillar  in  the  right  foreground.  Our  Lord  stands 
tlie  centre,  turning  his  head  to  speak  to  a  man  at  the  left,  ; 
at  the  same  time  indicating  by  a  gesture  the  man  upon  wl: 
he  has  wrought  the  cure,  and  who  sits  at  the  base  of 
pillar. 

The  emphasis  here  is  plainly  upon  the  rebuke  to  the  Ph 
sees,  and  Bida  makes  the  same  point  in  the  etching  of  the  s 
ject  among  his  illustrations  of  the  Evangelists.  Our  Lord 
on  a  bench  beside  an  ecclesiastical  dignitary,  and  turning 
wards  him,  with  a  gesture  in  the  direction  of  the  man  ^^ 
the  withered  hand,  he  searches  keenly  the  crafty  face. 

Tissot's  water-color  chooses  the  moment  of  healing,  wl 
Christ  effects  by  raising  both  hands  as  the  man  stands  bei 
him. 

III.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount 

And  seeing  the  multitudes,  he  went  up  into  a  mountain:  and  when  he 
set,  his  disciples  came  unto  him: 

And  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  taught  them,  saying, 

Blessed  are  the  i)oor  in  spirit:  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Blessed  are  thcv  that  mourn:  for  thev  shall  be  comforted. 

Blessed  are  the  meek:  for  thev  shall  inherit  the  earth. 

Blessed  are  they  which  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness:  fori 
^hall  be  filled. 

Blessed  are  the  merciful:  for  thev  shall  obtain  mercv. 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart:  for  they  shall  see  God. 

Blessed  are  the  peacemakers:  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  G< 


r<l  »re  thty  Mui^a  anr  (inwruiul  Itir  ri(tIil«uMip|ii™''  null*;  tar  thrin  la 

IClloni  uf  llMTEU. 

U  nniD  tfl  pSH.  when  Jhu*  lud  vnilnl  llien  Myiog*,  iIif  pvojili:  win' 
viDftauthDritf,  »Di|  daluthoHrilieri.  — UArr- 

sortant  as  is  tne  Hurtiiuii  ou  Ihu  Muuiit  from  a  roligiotu 
of  view,  as  layiu);  tlw  cunierstutiu  of  Cliristiaii  iiiorulity, 
etic  uf  its  delivery  lius  riMviv-tMl  muiiit  arlistiu  trtutniRiit. 
mad  cliietly  witli  tlii'  duiiiijs  ratlier  than  with  tlie  my- 
f  ilosiu,  Chmitiau  art  hax  nu(>leet«d  all  mibjecU  of  tlija 
This  fact  bas  already  b««ii  noW  in  counc-ctioit  with 
wvcrsations  with  Kici>doiiius  and  with  the  Woman  of 
ia,  when  it  was  aecn  that  tltu  Hymbolic  espreesicms  of 
tter,  tugutker  with  ttiQ  drttuiatic  aitiiatiga  it  involved, 
ven  it  much  greater  popukrity  in  art  than  has  been 
i3<l  the  former.  The  ^nuon  on  thu  Mouiit  is  nlLvigother 
g  in  dramatic  incident,  aiid  contains  little  symholism,  but 
aological  import  ha»  ueverthelese  savud  it  from  entire 
in  on  theee  grounds. 

;  Bubjeot  souietimos  occurred  in  iJluiiiinuteJ  manuscripts, 
)me  examples  wortii  noting'  lire  in  tlie  Gtisjwl  Ilook  of 
h,  ill  the  Evangelurium  of  the  Aschaffenburg  Jjibrary 
m  about  1200  in  Mayeueu),  nud  in  the  set  of  iiiiiiiatures 
vmle  da  Veroua,  now  preserved  in  the  Siena  Cathedral 

■y- 

pill  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  ia  the  subject  of  a  fine 
window  ill  St.  Jan's  Cliuroh,  Gouda,  Holhinii,  after  a. 

by  the  famous  Dirk  Craheth  {165G). 
ong  tlie  fredcoea  of  the  cella  in  the  Munastery  of  S. 
,  Florence,  the  monk  painter  Fra  An^tliL-o  included  the 
n  on  the  Mount,  treated  with  the  childlike  sweetnesB 
aiveto  which  is  so  characteristic  of  him.     The  Saviour 

the  upper  centre  of  the  picture,  talking,  with  an  exprea- 
i  gentle  earnestness,  the  left  hand  resting  on  his  knee, 
[ht  pointing  up.  lielow,  and  in  front  of  him,  the  twelve 
es  ait  in  a  semicirele,  the  most  of  them  liack  to  the 
lor.     This  limited  interpretation  of  the  subject  is  excep- 

aa  commentators  and  artists  usually  agree  that  the  ser- 
'as  preached  to  the  "  multitude." 
the  series  of  frescoes  on  the  side  walls  of  the  Sistiue 


UOKuiio  ittwiii  "  S<!rniiiii  '111  llin  Mount  ik  tho  bo^t 
«rliM.  It  is  n  largo  ('.ijni)M»iiti(iti  with  n  pliumtiit  laiui- 
tting,  in  which  MtriTul  wull  urnmguil  gToupit  nro  sytii- 
Tibut«(l.  One  of  tliew  —  tha  largest  —  is  tho 
trenching,  whotQ  Chriat  titaiultt  cm  a  slight  emi- 
Hftia  ifiit  uii>l  nililruMing  a  grvut  (yiiii[iniiy  nt  p(ti>[>la  ' 
I  nliout  him,  th«  iiKwt  i)(  thorn  e<?at<!il  im  tlii!  gmuiiit. 
«l|ili.'s  iiru  juHl  U-'hhul  htm,  Iiik  mmt  <tfvmil  tuxl  nt- 
Budltiirs.  At  lliu  ritilil  in  the  K'^^up  iHuatnitiii);  thti 
of  thu  I<e|wr,  whiuti  him  alruait)'  U-tii  nioutioiied  oii 

JameBon  refers  briefly  to  paintings  of  the  Sermon  on 
unt  by  I'ariniHbno  and  Peter  Jlrueghe],     In  later  art     ! 
reateil  by  ("lauilu  Lorraine  and  Lebrun.  I 

aicturo  by  ClaiidQ  Lorraine  is  in  the  (.Irosvonor  (lallery,  ' 
,  and  is  ono  of  the  tnrgost  over  iwititoil  by  that  artist,  i 
dscHpo  is  coTn]iose<l  of  s  great  inonntJtiii  with  a  duster     | 

at  the  suimnit  in  the  shiiilc  of  wliich  is  seon  tho  Sa- 
■rrouinled  by  hia  disciples.  A  multitude  of  people  *r6 
jd  at  t!ie  base,  and  some  are  going  up  a  (light  of  stopfl 
i-h. 

subject  of  the  Sermon  on  llic  Riount  naturally  occurs 
ho  iliuftratioiis  of  Bida,  ubo  treats  the  theme  in  tho 

nioleni  spirit  of  informality,  (liir  Loni  is  seated  on 
ig  hillside,  with  tho  people  gathered  about  in  n  wide 
eated  or  lying  on  the  gromiil.  He  points  upward  with 
t  liaiid  as  lie  looks  down  into  their  fanes, 
.ill  later  date  is  tho  picture  by  Fritz  von  Uhde,  the 
nr  and  leader  of  the  (lernian  school  of  mystic  realism. 
e  sunset  hour,  and  Our  Lord  is  seated  on  a  bench  in  a 

the  foot  of  a  mountain  slope.  In  the  distance  is 
i,  and  the  people  arc  tmoping  down  the  nioiinfain  side 
c  way  thither  at  tho  close  of  the  day's  wurk.  The 
words  have  drawn   them  about   Iiim  to   listen;  men, 

and  children  kneel  or  stand  with  serious,  awed  atten- 
3ir  heads  bowe<l  as  if  the  Ijetter  to  reltcct,  or  their  faces 
3  his,  with  wide  eyes  trying  to  fathom  his  meaning. 

is  the  Lord  in  our  midst  to-day  speaking  to  us  the 
f  eternal  life. 


FKQM    THE    SEUUJNU    TU    THJfi    THIKJJ 


IV.  The  Healing  of  the  Centurio; 

And  when  Jesus  was  entered  into  Capernaum,  there 
turion,  beseeching  him, 

And  saying.  Lord,  my  servant  lieth  at  home  sick  of 
tormented. 

And  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  will  come  and  heal  him. 

The  centurion  answered  and  said.  Lord,  I  am  not  wortl 
come  under  my  roof:  but  speak  the  word  only,  and 
healed. 

For  I  am  a  man  under  authority,  having  soldiers  ur 
this  man,  Go,  and  he  goeth;  and  to  another.  Come,  an 
my  servant,  Do  this,  and  he  doeth  it. 

When  Jesus  heard  it,  he  marvelled,  and  said  to  them 
I  say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not 

And  Jesus  said  unto  the  centurion.  Go  thy  way;  and  i 
so  be  it  done  unto  thee.  And  his  servant  was  healed  in  i 
Matt.  viii.  5-13. 

In  the  development  of  Christian  art  the  n 
the  Centurion's  Servant  has  been  wellnig 
only  very  early  representations  of  the  subj( 
been  able  to  find  are  in  the  form  of  bas-relief; 
are  engraved  in  Garrucci's  "  Storia  della  Art 
from  an  ivory  book  cover,  and  the  other  from 
a  sarcophagus.  The  group  consists  of  Our  L 
by  two  disciples,  and  the  centurion  in  front  o 
over  in  an  attitude  of  deep  humility. 

The  subject  appears  later  in  the  illumim 
as  in  the  Gospel  Books  of  Gotha  and  Trier. 

There  is  a  fine  picture  of  the  subject  by 
Madrid  Gallery,  and  three  similar  pictures, 
same  painter  or  his  pupils,  in  the  galleries  of 
and  Munich.  The  conception  of  Our  Lord  is 
than  Veronese's  other  Christ  ideals,  but  the  g 
able.  The  figure  of  Christ  stands  at  one  sidt 
his  disciples ;  from  the  other  side  approach 
between  two  soldiers.  Though  his  attitude  is 
reverence,  his  proud  mien  rather  belies  his  hui 
dress,  the  splendid  horse  behind  him,  the  o 
ants  on  either  side,  make  up  the  kind  of  pictc 
nese  so  delighted  in. 

Bida's  rendering  is  more  strictly  in  acco 


ry»i>  ..^.^tation.     The   scen»   in  otiUidn   tha 

nt's  hontio,  viiilhvr  Olirixt  Iiuh  bcou  iHHiducleJ  by  tlia^' 

»n  referml  to  in  St.  huke's  narrative      Aa  tlio  party 

>f',  the  Itonati  officer  oouk'm  out  of  hwi 

lO  stops,  bcni)8  doprocatingly  towni^ 

\j  to  his  followprs  with  the  worda,  "  T 

A  foiiiiu  su  ((resi  laith,  no,  not  in  Israel." 

^imot's  water^olor  thr  montont  chosen  in,  aa  uaual,  tha 

peaking  the  dci^isivo  wnnU,  and  tho  niiraclo  ia  wrought 

la  gesture  m  fr(M|ucnt  with  Iho  Frunch  illiiatrator,  tlie 

of  the  hand. 


iv'.s  Sii\    AT  Nain 
ml"  n  rily  rallwl  N&iiii  ai 


■■'1  "III.  I 1    -.-..Mr I-,  nlicl  >lllL-  WJIK  widow;  NUd 

HD  ttie  Lurd  naw  lier,  be  luuJ  cnmpafiiion  on  hpr,  and  «aJd  nnta  Iw^ 

csinp  nrid  touchfil  (tie  hipr:  and  tlity  that  luirc  him  stood  Btilli    And' 

!  fbtil  wan  iltad  niit  up,  and  Ivgiui  to  epeak.  And  lie  delivi-red  blm 
thw LUKK  vil,  11-15. 

le  Raising  of  tho  Widow's  Son  at  Wain,  wo  come  to  the 
three  miraclea  of  restoring  the  dead  to  life,  and  here,  as 
re,  we  find  the  history  of  art  extreniely  one-sided,  There 
pparent  reason  why  all  three  should  not  he  equally 
iut,  but,  with  strict  economy,  one  has  been  selected  to 
it  the  class,  while  the  others  are  left  to  neglect.  The 
subject  is  the  Eaisiug  of  Lazarus,  and  tho  Raising  of 
low's  Son  is  in  comparison  decidedly  inaignifioant  in 
ply  in  series  devoted  especially  to  minicles,  .such  as  the 
at  Oberzell,  and  in  the  long  series  acconipiiiiying  the 
the  Evangelists,  as  in  the  illnminated  Gospel  Books, 
•hare  the  honors  with  the  greater  incident.  It  is  among 
iects  of  the  mosaics  of  the  Monreale  Cathedral,  where 
'  miracles  are  represented.  I  have  seen  no  examples 
parate  treatment,  but  Mrs.  Jameson  mentions  two  pic- 
'  the  subject,  —  one  by  Zuccaro,  and  the  other,  which 
itly  admired,  by  Agostino  CaratMii. 


FKOM    THK    KECONn    m    TTTF    1 


By  Biria  and  Tissot  the  subject  has  been  treated  with  cart 
fill  regard  for  the  many  details  which  contribute  to  the  pit 
tiiresqucness  of  the  scene,  —  the  procession  wending  its  way  jut 
outside  the  city  walla,  the  crowd  pressing  around  the  bier,  th 
astonished  mother  stretching  out  her  arms  to  her  boy,  aad  i 
the  midst  the  calm  figure  of  the  Saviour  who  has  wrought  th 


IME   LIFE  or  OfR   1J3KD   IS   ART   ' 

III  ijii'i''  >*nttr-color  he  blaiuU  beside  the  Wer 
jwakiii)^  tlie  wonls,  "  VouDg  man,  I 
1  liida's  etching  be  is  occupied  with 
t  bis  feet,  and  upon  whom  bo  jookti 

T,.r  He  !iiin's  series  ct  drawings  the  Bubject  is 
■  n  n-cll  arrniigud  group  ot  figures  ngainst  tho  back- 
'-  urch.     Th«  Snviotir  standing  in  the  midst, 

i  01IU  liaiid  tu  tho  youth  on  th6  left  of  the 
le  othor  to  the  mother  kne«ling  at  the  right, 
suiing  me  Kou  tn  bis  mother  with  gracious  tenderness, 
;liU  occupied  ratlier  with  the  woman's  longing  than 
mimcle,  as  liia  face  bcnila  compassionately  towards 


T.   Christ  oivino  Siuht  to  the  Bli 


be  bliii 

d  eyes, 

tol 

jrinp  o^ 

It  the  prisone 

rsfrom 

(he  prison, 

and  them 

arkilc^! 

J  prison 

house. -Is: 

UAH  xii 

ii.  fi,  7. 

t  of  Ih. 

D  Lord 

e,  because  he  hath  a 

nointed  me 

other 

■.ha 

nie  tu  heal  t 

:enhearted, 

10  preach 

to  lll« 

capln 

-es, 

and  re 

covering  of 

sight  to 

the  blind, 

to  aet  at 

1  that  n 

ised 

..-U' 

KB  iv.  18. 

ohour 

he< 

cured  r 

imny  ot  their 

indrmii 

ties  and  plagnef,  and 

-a;  and 

unloi 

nan 

y  that  ■ 

ivere  Wind  he 

1  gave  si 

ight.  — LuK 

E  vii.  21. 

■st  recorded  instance  of  Our  Lord's  giving  sight  to 
was  at  the  time  John  the  Haptist  sent  two  disciples 
he  was  the  Clirist.  Tho  reply  was  in  deeds  rather 
ords,  and  the  messengers  returned  to  tell  what  they 
"  Unto  many  that  were  blind  he  gave  sight,"  and 

followed  from  time  to  time  other  miracles  of  the 
,  of  which  we  have  fuller  details.  A  peculiar  inter- 
es  to  these  incidents  from  their  symbolic  character, 

has  been  universally  regarded  in  all  the  world's  great 
as  a  most  appropriate  expression  for  moral  and  spirit- 
mess.  So  apparent  a  symbolism  was  sure  to  be  made 
n  tlie  early  church,  and  tlds  group  of  miracles  was 
:  most  popular  subjects  as  frescoes  of  the  catacombs 
!-relief  ornaments  on  scarcophagi.  These  nidimen- 
sentations  contain  no  accessories,  and  do  not  appear 


FROM  THE  SECOND  TO  THE   THIKD   PASSO^ 

to  refer  to  any  specific  incident.  They  are  rather 
general  iilealtzation  of  the  entire  class  of  Christ's  m 
to  the  blind,  intended  to  suggest  his 
higher  ministry  to  the  darkened  spirit. 
The  blind  man  is  always  a  diminutive 
figure,  as  of  a  child,  standing  in  front 
of  Christ,  who  lays  one  hand  on  liis 
head  or  touches  his  eyes  with  the 
lingers.  Our  Lord  sometimes  carries 
a  wand,  as  in  the  Kaising  of  Lazarus, 
or  again  a  cross,  as  is  frequently  seen 
in  sarcophagus  sculpture.  Usually  a 
single  spectator  looks  on  at  the  mir- 
acle. Sometimes  there  are  two  blind 
men  present,  who  may  be  the  men 
referred  to  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  St, 
Matthew's  Gospel,  or  the  blind  iuen 
of  Jericho. 

In   later  art  the  specific  incident   , 
may  be  identified  either  by  some  de- 
tails iti  the  representation  or  by  the 
text  which  it  accompanies.     Pictures  *^'"'"'  S'*''ng  ■ 

,    ■  ,     ■        -n        -      ,    J  Blind  (bas-reli 

are    frequent    in    ilhiminated    manu-      chrisiiaa  sarci 
scripts  and  in  illustrated  Bibles,  but  are 
not  common  as  independent  subjects,  or  as  parts  of  t 
torical  series.     Some  examples  will  be  given  under  e; 
as  it  occurs  in  chronological  order. 


VII.    The  Fka.st  in  thk  Housk  < 
Pharisee 


Simon 

M  with  I 


id  dill'  nt  the  rhnrispefl  desireil  him  Hint  he  wniilrt 
intu  the  rhari»ce'H  houM,  niid  i<iit  down  lo  meat, 
icl,  MtaM,  a  woman  in  the  cily,  wliioh  wa»  a  sinner,  wlie 
'  sot  at  meal  in  the  Pharisee's  house,  brought  an  slabaf 


nn..iiitcd  thcin  wi 

ilh  the 

ointment. 

Now  when  tlic 

PhnrJ! 

iee  which  had  biddei 

1  him  saw  it,  he  spak 

self,  aayinE,  Tliis 

man, 

if  he  were 

a  prophet, 

,  would  hav 

e  known  i 

sthatmuchelhhim; 

:  for  she  is 

And  Jofliis  aiis' 

werinK 

said  unlo 

■  him,  Simon,  I  have 

somewha 

Ihce.    And  his  sa 

ith,  Master,  say  i 

3n. 

THE   LIFE   OF  OUK   LOUD   IX   ABT  ^^^H 

Bwanncvruin  crrdilur  nlikli  hsil  I  wo  ilfblnMi  Ihoone  iiwad  flr*  koipi 
■ee,  anil  iho  fliher  )IRy, 

yth*ii  (hoy  hid  ntitliini:  t"  (lay,  h>  fmnkly  fuim*"  ihrnn  ImiIIi.  Tw 
rif«rf,  which  of  them  will  low  lilm  innit  ?  m 

»  Mifirmil  umI  xtiJil,  1  HUtiifKw  llial  hv,  bi  whiim  ho  tniR>n  nnaU 
tMudunio  bini,  TliouliMti^hOyJadecd.  .ji 

^  lurni-tl  to  tln<  witinaii,  biiiI  Mid  uuli>  Hiiu'xi,  UmiM  thoa  lhiB«fitnH.T! 
«d  iiilo  tliini!  houw,  thou  g'^veet  m*  uo  wnlnr  lur  my  tett:  bat  Nim 
MiDil  my  hvt  with  Ivun,  aii't  wipud  Ihviii  willi  thv  hoin  of  b*r  bnuli  1 
l^TctlKKnoklu:  but  thli  woiaan  mul'b  lh«  tiinc  t  L-am*  In  baUinqll 
<0  I'll*  my  fwjt.  J 

(■ul  wilh  oil  thou  illd]>l  nnl  anolni:  bul  Ihl*  wamiii  hub  anoinlnd  fM 
Uluiut.niriil.  'I 

wtUiK  lm\  "  I'l"    II   '  -III-,  ithii'li  urp  niatiy,  arc  fni^vni;  for  At) 

■OCh;  but  l<'  '< '.  <  ri,  Ihl'  onnic  furctli  litllo.  'L 

lumlduiiK.  I.'      I  ■■■_!. .'JI.  ._' 

Uliiy  l.bal.  "Ill ■  11  ■!'■  1  !■■  jrii"  i"  Miy  within  ihrmwivw,  Vttob 

(Ifwgivellini..  Ill  .-  1 

'll»  said  Ui  Ihl'  wimmn,  'j'lii  Isilli  lialli  "ovi'il  llic';  gii  in  ppace.-^ 
ni.3a-60. 


B  of  the  most  romantic  and  poetic  incidents  in  0\li 
a  life  WQE  the  anointing;  of  Iiis  fc«t  by  a  Hinfol  woBuili' 

sat  at  Simon's  tiibk.  Tliure  were  other  occasions  on 
I  he  v/as  a  gu<:»t  of  honor  at  a  feast,  one  even  in  which 
IS  similarlj  anointeil  by  a  loving  woman,  but  this  stands 
nique,  from  the  character  of  the  ivoman  and  the  gracious 
1  of  forgiveness  sjiokeu  to  lier  by  Our  Lord. 
e  Feast  in  the  House  of  Simon  lias  Iwcn  a  popular  art 
;t,  not  indeed  dating  from  an  early  period,  but  attaining 
favor  during  the  Renaissance.  It  must  lie  remembered 
tradition  identified  the  woman  as  Mary  Jlagdalene,  who 
n  extremely  popular  saint  on  her  own  account,  and  who 
ed  additional  attention  in  art  as  the  supposed  sister  of 
IIS.  Thus  it  happens  that  the  Feast  in  the  House  ol 
1  occurs  in  connection  with  the  life  of  tlie  Magdalene,  as 
e  Einuccini  Chapel  at  S.  Croce,  Florence,  and  is  also 
ently  a  companion  subject  of  the  Raising  of  Lazarus,  as 
e  triptychs  of  Froment  and  Mabiise.  In  the  schools  of 
em  Italy  it  was  a  favorite  feast  subject,  thoiLgh  never  so 
on  as  the  Marriage  at  Cana,  because  less  suitable  for  a 
ory. 

e  principal  figures  in  the  composition  are  Our  Lord  and 
voman,  with  Simon  the  Pharisee,  to  whom  are  added 
J  and  servants  in  numbers  proportioned  to  the  style  of 


the  feast.  The  disciples  are  sometimes  present,  but  more  ofter 
are  omitted.  Ignoring  the  oriental  custom  of  reclining  at 
table,  the  European  painters  of  the  Renaissance  were  some- 
what at  a  loss  in  disposing  the  Magdalene  in  her  proper  place 
at  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  and  at  the  same  time  making  hei 
position  prominent  and  graceful.  Mabuse  solved  the  problem 
naively  by  placing  the  Magdalene  under  the  table,  on  all 
fours;  but  the  most  frequent  arrangement  is  to  seat  Our  Lord 
at  the  end,  thus  allowing  space  for  the  woman  beside  or  in 
front  of  the  table.  Moretto's  painting  is  an  example.  Stil] 
another  style  of  composition  shows  Our  Lord  sitting  somewhat 
apart  from  the  table,  as  in  Veronese's  Turin  picture.  The 
moment  chosen  is  almost  always  Christ's  rebuke  to  Simon, 
the  face  of  the  Saviour  being  turned  to  the  Pharisee,  while 
his  hand  indicates  the  woman  at  his  feet. 

The  love  of  display,  so  characteristic  of  northern  Italian  art 
and  culminating  in  Veronese's  canvases,  is  well  exhibited  in 
Moretto's  Feast  in  the  House  of  Simon,  in  the  Church  oi 
S.  Maria  della  Pieta,  Venice.  The  picture  may  be  considered 
a  precursor  of  Veronese's  banqueting  scenes  for  the  elegance 
of  the  setting  and  the  richness  of  accessories.  Yet  it  is  fai 
simpler  in  composition  than  the  elaborate  pictures  of  Veronese, 
containing  only  such  characters  as  tell  the  story  vividly  and 
directly.  In  a  splendid  marble  portico  a  small  table  is  laid 
for  two,  the  host,  at  the  left  end,  seen  in  profile,  and  Our  Lord 
opposite  him  at  the  right.  The  woman  lies  prone  upon  the 
pavement  beside  Christ,  one  hand  resting  on  his  foot  and  hei 
face  pressed  against  his  ankle.  She  is  a  beautiful  and  modest 
figure,  a  perfect  expression  of  a  pure  and  exalted  devotion. 
From  the  left  a  servant  approaches  with  drinking  vessels,  and 
on  the  right  two  women  whisper  together,  one  pointing  to  the 
Magdalene.  The  Saviour,  gesturing  towards  the  woman  with 
his  left  hand,  speaks  his  parable  to  Simon,  his  eyes  searching 
the  Pharisee's  face  with  a  gentle  entreating  glance.  The 
latter  is  a  dignified  and  elegant  old  gentleman,  wearing  a  rich 
ermine  cape  over  his  velvet  garment.  He  listens  with  keen 
and  respectful  attention,  while  a  servant  in  the  rear  also  bends 
forward,  with  hands  on  the  table,  absorbed  in  the  words  of 
the  Master. 

The  Feast  in  the  House  of  Simon  was  painted  several  times 
by  Veronese  in  the  grand  style  for  which  he  is  so  famous.     In 


,  it  |.icture  of  tlie  Luuvrt-  bIioiiM  lie 
ua  nnu  aiut  ouiera  are  in  tht-  Itrera  (ialler^,  Tklilaii, 
thn  urin.      Tlioy  aie  all  spleotlid  ei'iiiiio 

«  for  groat  artistic  qoalitiee.  The 
the  Inr^rst,  in  thu  sjniplcHt'in  coiiii>o- 
rdeii  will)  iigures  whiuli  cuufuae  mid 
is  prrsona:  Two  tal.lea  are  laid  in 
DBJj,  Lii^  <rj.<.i>ii>^  lietwetn  them  comiu^  iti  the  centre 
canv^ia.  Here  ut  the  end  (if  tUo  right  hand  tuhle  gits 
with  the  woman  kneeling  at  his  feet  facing  the  spec- 
At  the  end  of  the  otlier  table,  and  oppotiite  Christ, 
Simon  3]ieuking  to  the  Master.  The  gtiesta  are  clug^ 
nto  groups,  and  do  nut  for  the  most  part  interest  them- 
|n  the  central  figures.  In  the  Turin  picture  Christ  site 
Rght,  seen  in  prolile,  speaking  to  hia  liust,  who  is  beeide 
led  table  in  the  centre.  A  group  of  people  press  ahout  i 
the  woman  at  his  feet.  One  woman  leans  over  his  j 
nr  famUiarly,  and  others  exhibit  only  vulgnr  curiosity. 
it  examples  from  tlie  ecUouIa  of  northern  Italy  are  by 
i,  in  the  Ifelvedure  Gallery,  Viennn,  and  by  Jacopo  Itafi- 
t  Haiuj^on  CauH.  , 

11  the  art  of  the  Teutonic  schools  we  may  draw  a  very 
;ing  example  of  the  Feast  in  the  House  of  Simon,  by 
!,  the  centre  of  an  aUar-piece  in  the'Brussels  Museum. 
hie  runs  lengthwise  through  the  hall,  and  the  host, 
Iressed,  sits  at  the  farther  end.  Christ,  in  the  middle 
left  side,  addresses  two  Pharisees,  who  stand  in  the  fore- 
,  one  of  them  pointing  to  the  woman  under  the  table, 
kissing  Ins  feet. 

Lucas  Cranach,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  is  another  picture 
same  subject.  Christ  is  seated  at  the  table  with  Simon 
■o  guests,  and  behind  the  table  are  four  spectators  and 
learer.  The  kneeling  Magdalene  is  in  the  act  of  wiping 
s  feet  with  her  hair. 

ens  has  treated  the  theme  in  his  usual  dramatic  manner 
picture  of  the  Hermitage,  St.  Petersburg.  Christ,  sit- 
profile  at  the  right,  addresses  the  group  at  the  left,  who 
eaning  across  tlie  table  with  almost  fierce  imiMjtuosity. 
agdalene  wipes  his  feet  with  effusive  sentimentality, 
ther  seventeenth  century  Fleming  who  treated  the  sub- 
as  Philippe  de  Champaigne,    whose  picture  is  in  the 


Louvre.     In  this  the  guests  lie  on  couches  surroi 
table  in  a  semicircle,  Christ  opposite  his  host,  and 
latter^ s  attention  to  the  woman  at  his  feet. 

In  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence,  is  Froment's 
triptych,  the  right  panel  of  which  is  devoted  to  tl 
the  House  of  Simon.  Christ  lays  both  hands  on 
and  looks  passively  at  the  woman,  who  holds  his  : 
hand.  A  man  standing  at  the  left  points .  scornf u 
but  the  others  are  occupied  with  eating  and  drinkin 
principal  action  passes  unnoticed. 

There  are  examples  by  later  French  artists,  —  by 
in  the  Louvre  and  in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  by  Jc 
the  Lyons  Museum  (replica  in  the  Louvre),  and  b; 
Tissot.  The  last  two  have  departed  widely  from 
tional  composition,  treating  the  subject  in  the  orie 
In  Bida^s  etching  Christ  sits  on  a  low  divan,  a  mai 
on  each  side  of  him,  the  woman  kneeling  in  froi 
table  to  be  seen.  In  Tissot 's  water-color,  the  won 
behind  the  Saviour  holding  the  flask  of  ointment  ove 

It  should  be  pointed  out  that  pictures  of  the  F 
House  of  Simon  are  often  described  in  catalogues  ar 
tories  in  a  way  which  indicates  the  confusion  of  th 
with  other  feasts,  especially  with  the  supper  at  Bet' 
Judas  received  a  rebuke  similar  to  that  given  ! 
Pharisee.  Careless  writers  sometimes  designate  th< 
Simon  the  Pharisee  as  Simon  the  Publican,  or 
The  apostate  disciple  can  always  be  distinguished  : 
other  character  by  the  bag  which  he  carries,  and  t 
reason  for  mistaking  Simon  for  him. 


VIII.    The  First  Group  of  Parables  :  The 
AND  THE  Enemy  sowing  Tares 

The  same  day  went  Jesus  out  of  the  house  and  sat  by  the  sea  s 

And  f^reat  multitudes  were  gathered  together  unto  him,  so  that 
a  ship,  and  sat  ;  and  the  whole  multitude  stood  on  the  shore. 

And  he  spake  many  things  unto  them  in  parables,  saying.  Be 
went  forth  to  sow  ; 

And  when  he  sowed,  some  seeds  fell  by  the  way  side,  and  th 
and  devoured  them  up  : 

Some  fell  upon  stony  places,  where  they  had  not  much  eartl 
with  they  spruug  up,  because  they  had  no  deepness  of  earth  : 


hen  the  sun  wan  up,  they  were  scurched  ;  and  because  they  had  no 

V  withered  awav. 

»me  fell  aiuoiig  thoiHH  ;  and  the  thorns  sprung  up,  and  choked  them  : 

her  fell  into  gcHnl  ground,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  some  au  hundred- 

le  sixtyfold,  some  thirtyfold. 

tath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear. 

er  parable  put  lie  forth  unto  them.  Haying,  Tlie  kingdom  of  heaven  is 

unto  a  man  which  sowed  good  seed  in  his  Held  : 

liile  men  slept,  his  enemy  came  and  S4)wed  tares  among  the  wheat, 

t  his  wav. 

hen  the  blade  was  sprung  up,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  then  appeared 

i  also.  —  Matt.  xiii.  1~2Q, 

parables  of  Our  Lord  are  to  be  classed  with  his  other 
"ses  in  being  artistically  unpopular,  and  the  same  selec- 
inciples  have  been  applied  to  them  in  the  choice  of  sub- 

A  striking  vein  of  symbolism,  such  as  is  contained  in 
rable  of  the  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins,  commeiided  a 

to  early  artists,  while  at  a  later  period  dramatic  and 
d  qualities,  like  those  in  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal, 
ere  the  first  consideration. 

Sower  is  one  of  those  subjects  which  are  rare  in  any 
I  our  list  of  examples  is  short.  Except  for  the  pic- 
I  Donienico  Feti's  series,  at  the  Venice  Academy,  we 
Dthing  in  Italian  art  outside  the  illuminated  manuscripts. 

latter  we  find  a  typical  composition  among  the  minia- 
y  Liberale  da  Verona,  in  the  Siena  Cathedral  Library, 
liole  story  is  compressed  into  the  circle  of  a  single  letter, 
represented  in  an  idyllic  manner  peculiarly  appropriate 
parable.  The  Sower  steps  blithely  on  his  way  with  the 
lical  motion  of  a  dancer.  In  the  gentle  face  we  recog- 
e  painter's  eilbrt  to  convey  the  idea  that  the  Sower  is 
)rd  himself.  He  carries  the  seed  in  a  basket  on  his  left 
id  flings  it,  as  he  walks,  into  the  furrows  of  a  ploughed 

On  either  side  we  trace  the  various  results  of  the  sow- 
n  the  right,  the  fowls  of  the  air  arc  flying  up,  having 
ed  the  seed ;  in  front  are  the  thorns  which  have  choked 
i  rightful  crop ;  on  the  left  are  the  stony  places  where 
n  has  scorched  the  new  growth  ;  beyond  stretch  the 
L  green  fields  where  the  seed  fell  into  good  ground, 
is  an  old  print  by  Albrecht  Altdorfer  which  interprets 
rrative  more  fully.  Our  Lord  stands  at  the  right  of  a 
ipe,   surrounded   by  his    disciples,   whose    attention   he 


FROM   THE   SECOND   TO  THE  THIRD   PASSOVER         141 

directs  by  i  gciture  to  a  sower  at  the  left,  Hia  head  is  sur- 
rounded by  the  lirge  odd-shaped  nimbus  seen  in  DUrer's  wood- 
cuts, while  the  disciples  wear  the  smaller  circular  glory.  The 
seedsman  advances  from  the  right  to  the  left,  scattering  the 


The  Sower  (MiUet) 

grain  in  horizontal  rows.  Above  the  field  rise  the  fowls  of  the 
air,  and  in  the  road,  also,  they  are  picking  up  seed.  At  the 
edge  of  the  licld  grow  the  thorns,  pushing  up  conspicuously 
among  some  hushes. 

Tt  will  1)c  noticed  that  this  version  of  the  scene  is  not  strictly 
in  accordance  with  the  actual  circumstances,  as  the  Evangelists 


that  tho  iKiraHe  wok  delivered  from  a  ship.  A  modem 
sh  artist^  Kdwiii  JiOiig,  has  thus  represented  it,  portraying 
'readier  seated  in  a  boat,  hohling  a  grain  of  wheat  in  his 

while  two  wheat  ears  lie  on  his  knee. 

Jacopo  Rassano,  in  tho  Ikilvedcre  Cilallery,  Vienna,  there 
ostoral  scone  untler  the  title  of  the  Sower.  A  group  of 
ats  and  cattle  occupies  the  foreground,  and  tho  seedsman 
n  in  tho  rear  at  his  task. 

ly  picture  of  seed  sowing  is  in  one  sense  an  illustration  of 
ext,  provided  only  that  the  theme  ))o  universalized  and 
gure  of  the  Sower  stand  out  on  the  canvas,  as  in  the  par- 
as a  general  ty[)c.  Wherever  11  le  artist  is  great  enough 
nl  thus  witli  the  universal,  we  do  not  need  the  specified 
s  of  the  varying  harvest  to  complete  tlio  story.  Millet's 
r  fulfills  perfectly  this  condition.  In  tho  single  splendid 
s  there  is  a  suggestion  of  latent  power  which  contains  all 
equel;  the  imagination  leaps  forward  to  tho  day  when 
rop  shall  be  gathered  in.  The  process  is  reversed  when, 
Robert's  series  of  panels,  tho  results  only  of  the  planting 
►resented,  and  it  is  tho  work  of  tin?  imagination  to  run 
vard  to  tho  sower,  whoso  faithfulness  cast  alike  the  fruit- 
id  the  unfruitful  seed. 

c  Parable  of  the  Sower  is  one  of  the  subjects  in  the  set 
Listrations  by  liida  and  Tissot. 
le  allied  parabbi  of  the   Kneniy   sowing  Tares  lias   been 

the  subject  of  a  few  modern  pictures.  I'liere  is  one  by 
olin  ^iillais,  and  anoibor  in  Tissot's  set  of  illustrations, 
er's  powerful  painting  has  brought  out  unsuspected  signif- 
3  in  the  tbenie.  In  the  darkness  of  midnight  the  enemy, 
bing  stealthily  near  the  foot  of  the  cross,  scatters  among 
)cks  a  lijindful  of  coin.  Heavy  leaden  clouds  lie  in  strata 
i  a  sky  of  dark  steely  bbie.  On  the  horizon  a  segment  of 
ising  moon  gleams  with  a  yellow  metallic  lustre,  like  a 
coin,  and  glints  on  the  falling  pieces  of  money, 
ere  is  a  fine  contrast  l)etween  this  j)iciure  and  ^Millet's 
r.  The  latter  is  the  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  progres- 
ind  fruitful  life,  working  its  healthful  way  in  the  open 
;  the  former  is  an  expression  of  the  destructive  forces  of 
iccomplisbing  its  insidious  work  under  cover  of  darkness. 
•>ower  as  a  presentation  of  the  orderly  working  of  God's 
al  laws  is  fitly  treated  with  simple  realism ;  the  other 


s  OP  orn  Lonii  IS  art 


)ntriiry  with  tlie  vinlation  of  the  lawa 
li  fortli  with  Bome  suggestion  of  th« 


Stiliiko  thk  Tk 


.,  Ut 


^  the  muHitudcthry  look  him  xvtnnhewu.  j 

no  with  him  Mh«r  llitU  Mp».  I 

.-lofwinil,  anAUie  wiwftbfai  tnio  tk«  tblp,  m  1 

itt  ol  ih*  Bhiji,  iij<1i!vp  on  p,  pillow :  vid  they  i 

I    MnHtcr,  rarvil  tfagu  nut  lb*l  WH  puriah?  I 

c  wind,  anfl  aaiit  iiiitv  the  nea.  Peace,  be  still.  ' 

w«K  *  ffreW  calm.  j 

ftre  j-B  »o  tiurful  ?  hiiw  i«  It  that  ye  hove  no  ] 


wo  waya  Our  LorcVs  pnwrr  nver  the  sea  was  made  mani- 
his  disciples,  —  hy  calming  the  waves  in  a  great  storm, 
'  walking  across  the  water  from  the  shore  to  the  ship, 
r  incident  has  seemed  specially  attractive  to  the  artist, 
■t  rather  less  than  the  second. 

earliest  example   I  have  hcen  able  to  find  of  Christ 

the  Tempest  is  among  the  series  of  miracles  in  the 
s  of  the  church  of  St.  George,  Oherzell.     Here  we  have 

those  curious  dual  compositions  of  primitive  art.  In 
i  of  the  ship  sits  the  Saviour  leaning  hack  asleep,  at 
let  end  he  stands  rehuking  the  wind.  As  tho  waters  of 
rdan  were  represented  in  an  early  time  hy  the  figure 
river  god,  so  here  the  storm  winds  are  represented  as  evil 

whose  homed  heads  peep  from  the  clouds.  To  these 
Onr  Lord  addresses  his  rebuke,  raising  his  hand  in  the 

gesture  of  benediction.  For  other  examples  of  the 
abject  as  early  as  this,  we  must  refer  to  the  illuminated 
:ripts  in  which  it  fonnd  a  place,  as  in  the  Gospel  Books 
lich',  Gotha,  and  Trier. 

.he  Dresden  Gallery  is  a  picture  by  some  imitator  of 
i,  showing  a  sailboat  on  a  wild  sea.  Christ  sleeps  in  the 
ind  a  disciple  tries  to  awaken  him,  while  the  others 
1  the  craft. 


wiuu  iAiUiXiiXSiuxsiiv  vunv       ovt7XJi  vixxs   wxuu.  ckix\jL  vixK>  oca  WOJ 


X.    The  Demoniacs  of  Gadara  Healed 

And  when  he  was  come  to  the  other  side  into  the  country  of  the  Ge 
[or  Gadarenes],  there  met  him  two  possessed  with  devils,  coming  on 
tombs,  exceeding  fierce,  so  that  no  man  might  pass  by  that  way. 

And,  behold,  they  cried  out,  saying.  What  have  we  to  do  with  the 
thou  Son  of  God  ?  art  thou  come  hither  to  torment  us  before  the  time 

And  there  was  a  good  way  off  from  them  an  herd  of  many  swine  fc' 

So  the  devils  besought  him,  saying,  If  thou  cast  us  out,  suffer  us  to  j 
into  the  herd  of  swine. 

And  he  said  unto  them.  Go.  And  when  they  were  come  out,  they  m 
the  herd  of  swine :  and,  behold,  the  whole  herd  of  swine  ran  violentl\ 
steep  place  into  the  sea,  and  perished  in  the  waters.  —  Matt,  viii,  28- 

As  has  already  been  seen  (p.  113),  the  miracles  of  1 
demoniacs  do  not  furnish  suitable  material  for  popular  a 
jects.  Among  them  all,  the  incident  in  the  country 
Gadarenes  contains  perhaps  the  most  dramatic  and  pictu 
details.  The  subject  is  always  to  be  distinguished  eit 
the  tombs,  which  the  unfortunate  men  inhabited,  or  the 
into  which  the  dispossessed  spirits  entered.  There  x 
curious  early  representations  which  refer  clearly  to  this 
tive.  One  is  an  ancient  bas-relief,  an  engraving  of  whi 
pears  in  Garrucci's  ^'  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana."  A 
four  figures  extends  across  the  composition,  two  apostles  i 
ing  Christ,  opposite  to  whom  stands  the  demoniac,  naked 
waist.     A  tomb  at  the  right  identifies  the  country  of  Gj 


....,  niiiuiia  '""'  ■"•'s'iii-s  "f  S.  Apollinare  Kuovo.  Rav<'niia, 

ib.ject  is  given  with  (WHaidiTablE  Bjiiril.     Oiir  Lord,  fol- 

by  A  Btwotalor.  stnijiin  Iwfon-  the  door  of  a  cave  where 

tii[>eal.     At  the  right,  three  swine  are 

c.ii  the  subject  is  by  Doraenieo  Miirclli. 

mg  ift  icn  of  liosert  with  a  rocky  cliff  extending 

a  left  side  in  which  tombs  arc  hewa  out   roughly. 

■  iidviinMB  towards  the  front  of  the  picture,  and  ncros^  his 

ie  two  hnlf-naked  denioitiacs,  roacliing  out  their  arms  to 
Onn  grnveU  bpRidi>  him  on  the  ground,  proseing  bis  face 

t  the  licm  of  his  garment. 

illustrated  Bibles  the  subject  miturally  finds  a  place  as  in 


.1.   Christ  Baistnu  the  Dadghteb  of  Jairuk 

behold,  Ihcre  cajneth  uiu  0/  Ihe  ruloTii  of  tho  .•ynagogut,  .Tuini!!  by 
■nd  whoii  be  itw  blm,  ba  tvll  kI  hi>  tiwl, 

beaougbt  bini  graiAy,  MyinR,  M]'  little  lUugUlor  llotit  at  the  point  nf 
t  pray  Ibce,  come  aud  lay  thy  hiuiitB  on  btT,  (hut  nhu  may  bu  bMilcl; 

JcBiis  went  wilb  htm  ;  and  imich  people  tolloweil  him,  and  thronged 

B  be  yet  spake,  (here  I'Hme  tron 
which  said,  Thv  daugliter  is  deai 
7 

on  as  .Tesus  heard  tlie  word  (hat  wbs  spoken,  he  saith  unio  the  ruler  ol 
agogUE,  lie  not  afraid,  only  believe. 

lie  anffcred  no  man  lu  follow  him,  save  Peter,  and  James,  and  Jobi 
ther  of  James- 
he  Cometh  to  the  house  of  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  and  seeth  th> 
and  them  that  wept  and  wailed  greatly. 

when  he  was  come  in,  lie  saith  unlo  them,  TVhy  make  ye  this  ado,  and 
the  damsel  ii  not  dead,  but  sleepeth. 

they  laughed  him  to  scorn.  But  when  he  had  put  tlieui  all  ont,  he 
the  fothcr  and  the  mother  of  the  damsel,  and  them  that  vrere  with 
d  entereth  In  where  the  damsel  was  lying. 

he  took  the  damsel  by  the  hand,  and  said  niito  her,  Talitlia  cumi ; 
s,  being  interpreted,  Damnel,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise. 
straightway  the  dumecl  arose,  and  walked;  lor  she  was  of  the  age  of 
yean.    And  they  were  antonisbed  with  a  great  astonishment. 
lie  eharged  them  straitly  that  no  man  should  know  it;  and  commanded 
nething  should  he  given  her  lo  eat.  -  -  Mark  v.  22-21  and  35-43. 

ttpared  with  the  Raising  of  the  Widow's  Son  at  Nain,  the 


FROM  THE   SECOND   TO   THE  THISD   PASSOVEK 


Christ  raising  the  Daughter  of  JairUB  (Dor*) 


Kaiaing  of  Jairus's  Daughter  is  somewhat  more  popular  in 
doubtless  because  the  story  itself  is  told  in  greater  deta: 
the  Evangelist.  We  even  find  some  examples  of  its  treati 
in  early  sculpture  (see  p.  150),  but  such  cases  are  rare. 
subject  appears  beside  the  correlated  miracles  in  the  mo 
of  the  Monreale  Cathedral,  in  the  series  of  the  Church  o 
(leorge,  Oberzell,  and  forms  one  of  the  best  works  in 
series  at  Sacro  Monte,  Vamllo. 


iM-rt.  •-  tt  fiiw  iticliire  of  Itie  Bulijuut,  kiiiiivn 

JikiukIi  at-  iviug  I>j'  I!i'utr!«it. 

rliii  (iitUery,  in  a  pictuK  vonsideTi'd 

1  treated  tkflet  tlie  luuiiiier  of  Reiii- 

ouietimtiH  t>een  erroneouMly  attacliRil 

iagonally  tljrough  thi-  middle  of  the 

lereoii    lifeless.     (>i)r  I,oii:l  elands  at 

I  lukiiirr,  wliiln  two  dixciiilei'  critrifoit  tlie 

,.ii.m-  III  i(i,i  .enr.     At  IIih  foot  of  tbp  bod  standi 

t  nil.     Tlip  Saviour  in  of  the  simple 

.  .11  lE^iiiliraiidt'tt  pictiu'es,  and  recalls 

)   ...^  I..UIII1....0  rijriBt  of  ilip  Louvre,  in  the  almoet 

I  geiitlenesB  of  cxjirexHion.     llo  bctids  over  the  bed, 

lie  hand  ligbtly  on  the  girl'H,  not  with  Iho  c-onstraining 

if  force,  hut  with  the  vivifying  touch  of  lovB. 

all  the  painters  of  Nicred  siihjecti  in  our  own  ceii~ 
-  included  the  RaiKtng  of  Jairutt'x  Dau  ;ht«r  among  thetc 
IS  Overheek,  Richter,  ,1.  K.  Steiiile,  Hida,  Hofmann, 
ad  Tissot.  All  theeo  have  been  giiided  strictly  by  the 
vtt  in  the  general  amuigement  of  the  composition. 
lerBons  usually  make  up  the  Rceuc,  —  Our  Lord  and 
d,  Jftirus  and  hia  wife,  grouped  at  the  bed,  while  the 
sciples,  Peter,  Jauiea,  and  .Tohn,  stand  a  little  apart.  aB 
is.  The  attention  fixes  of  course  njjon  tlie  great  physi- 
l  the  little  maid.  As  in  the  Gospel  story,  he  takes  her 
hand  while  she  rises  to  a  sitting  posture  with  eyes  still 
Our  Lord  is  usually  standing,  Kometimes  in  the  fore- 
or  again  on  the  farther  side  of  the  bed,  but  in  either 
the  centre  of  the  composition.  In  Overbeck'a  picture 
Is  on  one  knee  the  letter  to  reach  the  low  level  of  the 
le  has  in  the  best  pictures  the  tender  expression  of  a 
[  children.  The  miracle-working  gesture  is  variously 
ted ;  Richter  gives  Christ  the  theatrical  pose  of  an 
others  repeat  the  traditional  gesture  of  raising  the  right 
Don!  and  Tissot  show  the  Master  more  in  the  character 
'sician,  placing  hia  hand  on  her  forehead.  The  father 
.her  are  usually  both  kneeling,  though  Rida  assigns  the 
the  more  active  task  of  siipjiortiiig  her  dndghtcr. 
me  pictures  the  arrangement  indicates  that  the  girl  has 
niH  time  dead.  Albert  Keller,  who  has  never  been 
with  imitation,  has  represented  her  on  a  stone  sarco- 


FROM   THE   SECOND   TO  THE  THIRD  PASSOVER         1^ 

phagus,  at  the  head  of  which  stands  Christ,  gently  raising  h 
to  a  sitting  posture.  She  has  the  dazed  half-sleeping  expre 
sion  often  seen  on  the  face  of  the  awakening  Lazarus. 

By  J.  de  Vriendt  the  subject  is  treated  in  a  strikingly  o] 
ental  style.  The  girl's  body  is  laid  upon  a  rug,  her  ha 
crowned  with  a  garland  of  roses,  and  a  jar  of  incense  burnii 
beside  her.  The  mother  lies  prone  upon  the  rug,  her  fa 
pressed  upon  her  child's  body,  and  a  circle  of  mourners  s 
crouched  in  the  rear,  weeping  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  pi; 
upon  which  a  youth  is  playing.  Jairus  has  just  brought  O 
Lord  into  the  apartment  and  speaks  to  him  as  he  points  to  1: 
dead  daughter.  The  Saviour  listens  gravely  and  attentivel 
making  as  yet  no  sign  of  what  he  will  do. 

A  similar  motif  is  used  in  the  picture  by  Domenico  Morel 
Christ  having  just  entered  the  atrium,  where  the  girl  is  la 
out  for  dead,  with  the  women  mourners  crouching  around  h( 


XII.    Christ  Healing  the  Woman  who  touched  ti 

Hem  of  his  Garment 

And  a  certain  w(»nian,  which  had  an  issue  of  blood  twelve  years, 

And  had  suffered  many  things  of  many  physicians,  and  had  spent  all  tl 
she  had,  and  was  notliing  bettered,  but  rather  grew  worse, 

When  she  had  heard  of  Jesus,  came  in  the  press  behind,  and  touched  1 
garment. 

For  she  said.  If  I  may  touch  but  his  clothes,  I  shall  be  whole. 

And  straightway  the  fountain  of  her  blood  was  dried  up;  and  she  felt  in  1 
body  that  she  was  healed  of  that  plague. 

And  Jesus,  immediately  knowing  in  himself  that  virtue  had  gone  out 
him,  turned  him  about  in  the  press,  and  said,  Who  touched  my  clothes  ? 

And  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Thou  seest  the  multitude  thronging  tli 
and  sayest  thou.  Who  touched  me  ? 

And  he  looked  round  about  to  see  her  that  had  done  this  thing. 

But  the  woman  fearing  and  trembling,  knowing  what  was  done  in  her,  ca 
nnd  fell  down  before  him,  and  told  him  all  the  truth. 

And  he  said  unto  her,  Daughter,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole;  go 
peace,  and  be  whole  of  thy  plague.  —  Mark  v.  25-34, 

On  the  way  to  the  house  of  Jairus,  accompanied  hy  thron 
of  people.  Our  Lord's  progress  is  interrupted  by  the  miracle 
liealing  a  woman  who  touched  his  garment.  The  simple  fai 
of  the  woman  has  made  her  one  of  the  typical  characters 
the  New  Testament,  and  at  the  same  time  a  familiar  figure 
early  Christian  art.     She  perhaps  comes  next  to  the  paraly 


(if  tiie  mia 

Kxnmplet  nwt  in  rarions  fomi»  "(  Itw-n-HofB,  on  «i*(k 
liriitiH*  nii<l  iviiry  UMcU ;  '  in  tbe  muwcs  of 
pollinun',  Knvciiiin,  nml  in  illiimiuakil  nianunvripU. 

iDoiiiL-nt  in  Htly  M'lnclei),  not  aa  that  «f  toiicliJDK  Chrut^s 
enl,  wlillc  be  poBtMiH  (111  liU  way  wtiliuiit  noticiug  her,  but 


liitrr  liceiici  of  lii^r  uoiifueeion  when  sli?  Falls  on  her  kitpps 
U  feet  ti)  rttoeive  the  gmcioiia  word*  confirmiug  the  cure, 
lUfChtor,  he  whole  of  thy  [ihigue."  In  some  early  repre- 
alions  tho  scoiio  is  pluccl  h.v  the  bedside  of  the  daughter 
aims,  the  wottimi  kiiut-ling  ul  the  feet  of  Christ  hb  lie  is  in 

net  of  ntulliiig  the  ninid  to  life,  1  have  seen  tw<.  bas- 
I  wuijiositions  of  this  kind.  Usually,  however,  we  have 
dy  the  group  of  Christ  and  the  woman,  with  two  disciples 
pevtators. 

lomr  o(  ihwo-  «Hy  rrpttwutntiuo 
wljp  inlerimlrd  Bs  Ih)-  Knnwn  loncl 
a  takvn  in  adiiltcry. 


FROM   THE    f?FCO>Tl    TO    THE    THTRn    r\HSOVEIt 


CliriBl  healing  lUe  Wi 


There  is  no  way  Ijj  nccount  for  the  fact  that  in  Eenaissa 
art  the  incident  ceaseiJ  to  be  of  interest.  It  certainly  set 
to  contain  artistic  poasibilities,  but  Ihey  have  been  aim 


ticigletteil.  We  have  a  single  in'tuWc  [licture  in  Vero- 
Jlirist  before  t!ie  Hause  of  Jaivus,  iu  tlie  Helvedt-re  (ial- 
ieuna.  Christ  stands  at  the  top  of  a  flifjht  of  steps, 
of  which  kneels  the  woman,  youiiy  anil  Iwautiful,  ami 
Iressed.  She  ia  supported  by  a  woman  on  bur  left  side, 
:ma  to  be  making  a  request  rather  than  a  confeseiou, 
rd  bends  iiiquiringly  towards  her  witli  s  look  of  gentle 
?ion.  The  picture  is  in  Veronese's  best  vein  for  its 
conception  and  olevated  sentiuient. 
modem  Illustrations  by  Bida  and  Tissot  seem  to  me 
'actory  for  ao  beautiful  a  theme.  As  {Jlirint  hurries 
ae  street  with  his  diedples,  the  woman  cornea  up  on  her 
•ebind  bini  to  toiicli  bis  garment.  This  is  certainly  not 
e  reeling  of  the  text.  When  the  woman  fell  on  her 
he  was  no  longer  touching  his  robe,  but,  healed  of  her 
J,  was  making  a  trembling  explanation  of  her  conduct. 


.    CflitisT  Hkalino  Two  Blind  Micn  in  Gapeb- 

NAUM 

ben  Jesus  departed  thence,  two  blind  men  followed  him,  crying, 
ig,  Thou  son  of  David,  have  niercv  on  uk. 

len  he  wax  come  into  (he  luiuHe.'ihe  blind  men  came  lo  him  :  and 
h  unto  them,  Believe  ye  that  I  am  able  to  do  this  ?     They  said  unto 

luched  he  their  ej-es,  saying,  According  to  your  failli  be  it  unto  you. 
eir  eyes  were  opened  ;  and  Jesus  straitly  charged  them,  saying.  See 
lan  know  it. 

ey,  when  thev  were  departed,  sprciid  abroad  his  fame  in  all  that 
-Matt,  ix.  27-31. 

n  ancient  carved  ivory  book  cover,  in  the  Milan  Cathe- 
a  representation  of  Christ  healing  two  blind  men,  which 
lainly  refers  to  the  incident  recorded  in  the  ninth  chap- 
3t.  Matthew.  Christ  approaching  a  house  with  a  dis- 
met  by  the  two  men,  cacli  carrying  a  staff  and  stretching 
appealing  hand.  The  miracle  is  wrought  by  the  gesture 
diction. 

and  Tissot  illustrate  the  subject  in  the  course  of  their 
In  Bida's  etching,  Christ  is  just  entering  the  house, 
ns  on  the  steps  to  speak  to  the  men  who  approach,  ask- 
m  gravely  if  they  believe  he  can  grant  tlieir  request. 


FROM   THE   SECOND   TO   THE   THIRD   PASSOVER         I5i 


XIV.    Christ  Walking  on  the  Water 

And  straightway  Jesus  constrained  his  disciples  to  get  into  a  ship,  and  to  g( 
before  him  unto  the  otlier  side,  while  he  sent  the  multitudes  awav. 

And  when  he  had  sent  the  multitudes  away,  he  went  up  into  a  mountaii 
apart  to  pray:  and  when  the  evening  was  come,  he  was  there  alone. 

But  the  ship  was  now  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  tossed  with  waves:  for  th( 
wind  was  contrarv.. 

And  in  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night  Jesus  went  unto  them,  walking  on  th( 
sea. 

And  when  the  disciples  saw  him  walking  on  the  sea,  they  were  troubled, 
saying,  It  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  cried  out  for  fear. 

But  straightway  Jesus  spake  unto  them,  saying.  Be  of  good  cheer  ;  it  is  I 
be  not  afraid. 

And  Peter  answered  him  and  said.  Lord,  if  it  be  thou,  bid  me  come  untc 
thee  on  the  water. 

And  he  said,  Come.    And  when  Peter  was  come  down  out  of  the  ship,  he 
walked  on  the  water,  to  go  to  Jesus. 

But  when  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid  ;  and  beginning  tc 
sink,  he  cried,  saying.  Lord,  save  me. 

And  immediately  Jesus  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  caught  him,  and  said 
unto  him,  0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  ? 

And  when  they  were  come  into  the  ship,  the  wind  ceased. 

Then  they  that  w'ere  in  the  ship  came  and  worshipped  him,  saying,  Of  a 
truth  thou  art  the  Son  of  God.  — Matt.  xiv.  22-33. 

The  incident  related  in  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew, verses  22-33,  is  variously  referred  to  as  Our  Lord's 
miracle  of  Walking  on  the  Water,  or  the  Rescue  of  Peter, 
being  an  appropriate  subject,  both  historically  and  artistically, 
in  treating  either  the  life  of  Christ  or  the  life  of  the  apos- 
tle. Furthermore,  an  early  theology  having  appropriated 
the  ship  as  a  symbol  of  the  church,  the  subject  was  often  han- 
dled in  an  ideal  manner,  and  then  received  the  title  of  the 
Navicella.  This  is,  properly  speaking,  the  title  of  Giotto's 
well-known  mosaic  over  the  portal  of  St.  Peter's,  Rome.  The 
general  features  of  the  com])osition  are  copied  on  the  ceiling 
of  the  Spanish  chapel  at  S.  Maria  Novella,  Florence,  among  the 
frescoes  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  one  Antonio  Yeneziano. 
The  ship  occupies  almost  the  entire  width  of  the  triangular 
space  of  the  vaulting,  set  against  a  foreground  of  billowy 
waves,  while  in  the  sky  above  are  three  wind  gods  blowing  on 
long  trumpets.  In  Giotto's  mosaic  there  are  in  addition  four 
of  the  church  fathers  seen  in  half-length.  In  the  lower  right 
corner  of  the  triangle  is  the  group  of  Our  Lord  and  Peter,  and 
in  the  corresponding  space  on  the  other  side  a  fisherman  kneels 


RTIIK   LIFE   OF   Ul'II   l.olilJ   1.V   AUt  ^H 

iliiing  a  ruil.  Tii  lliB  sliip  ii  grniiji  of  iliEciples  tm 
Kil  ut  the  bow,  tvalcliiti){  with  gi'Gtiires  nf  fcnr  und  uuiiiKe- 
tlie  rescue  ut  t]i<?ir  compnninti.  One  is  croiicliing  lit  llie 
fitli  his  handle  ijvlt  Iiis  fnrt:  in  an  attitiidu  of  shudilerhig 
'.     At  tlio  otlier  end  lliey  ace  occnpioil  with  the  luaiiage- 


f  th    1     t   tl       t    rs  t  d  ■    tb      t    n,  and  others 

g  th       pe      F  th  sail 

h    f  diff  It  tl            1      t        of  Veneziano 

t    f  f     tt  th      tt  t  d      f  th    S  VI  ur.      In  Giot- 

osB      h      ta  d  p   ght  J    t       tt  tude,  his  out- 

d     m  be          11  tl   t  d  d  t             Peter.     In  the 

p    t        1      i    1[  t  d      1     t     3  as  he  bends 

d    tl  k  1     tl 


FROM   THE   SECOND   TO   THE   THIRD   PASSOVER         155 

Ghiberti's  bas-relief,  on  the  Florence  Baptistery  gate,  treats 
the  subject  from  the  standpoint  of  the  life  of  Christ,  and  the 
figures  of  Our  Lord  and  Peter  have  more  relative  importance 
in  the  composition,  standing  at  the  right  of  the  foreground, 
just  beside  the  ship.  We  notice  at  once  the  omission  of  the 
fisherman  on  the  bank,  which  was  a  curiously  incongruous  fea- 
ture ^'  in  the  midst  of  the  sea.^^  We  find  it  again,  however, 
in  an  early  Venetian  picture  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  and  infei 
that  it  had  some  traditional  symbolic  meaning. 

Two  quaint  pictures  by  Schaeufelein,  one  in  the  Ufiizi  Gal- 
lery, Florence,  and  another  in  the  Munich  Gallery,  make  the 
apostle  the  most  prominent  figure  in  the  incident.  It  is  a 
strangely  distorted  version  of  the  text,  showing  a  fishing  scene 
near  the  shore  of  the  lake.  In  the  rear  is  the  ship,  with  men 
hauling  in  a  net.  Our  Lord. stands  on  a  bank  at  the  right, 
while  Peter  flounders  in  the  shallow  water  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  feet.  The  apostle,  heavily  attired  in  long  flowing  robes, 
makes  an  inglorious  figure  as  he  appeals  for  help.  Christ  re- 
plies by  a  gesture  of  rebuke,  while  he  reaches  him  one  hand 
for  help. 

Some  seventeenth  century  pictures  may  be  mentioned  :  bj/ 
Bubens,  in  the  predella  of  the  Mechlin  altar-piece  ;  by  an 
unknown  Fleming  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  ;  and  by  the  Italian 
painter  Lanfranco.  In  this  last  work  it  is  interesting  to  notice 
that  the  wind  gods  of  the  primitive  composition  have  developed 
into  a  group  of  cherubs.  Both  Bida  and  Tissot  include  the 
subject  in  their  sets  of  Gospel  illustrations,  and  it  is  also 
among  the  New  Testament  subjects  treated  by  the  living 
(1897)  Italian  painter,  Domenico  Morelli. 


XV.    Christ  Feeding  the  Five  Thousand 

When  Jesus  then  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  a  great  company  come  unto 
him,  he  saith  unto  Philip,  Whence  shall  we  buy  bread,  that  these  may  eat  ? 

And  this  he  said  to  prove  him:  for  he  himself  knew  what  he  would  do. 

Philip  answered  him,  Two  hundred  pennyworth  of  bread  is  not  sufficient 
for  them,  that  every  one  of  them  may  take  a  little. 

One  of  his  disciples,  Andrew,  Simon  Peter's  brother,  saith  unto  him, 

There  is  a  lad  here,  which  hath  tive  barley  loaves,  and  two  small  fishes:  but 
what  are  they  among  so  many  ? 

And  Jesus  said.  Make  the  men  sit  down.  Now  there  was  much  grass  in  the 
place.     So  the  men  sat  down,  in  number  about  five  thousand. 

And  Jesus  took  the  loaves;  and  when  he  had  given  thanks,  he  distributed 


KHE    LIFE   OF   Ol'R    LORD    IS  i 
I  llie  •rW\pli-K  Id  lli<'m  Ihiil  Wen-  Ht  dowa;  «BdlllE«riM«t 
<  KB  Riucli  an  )!ivy  would. 

liiey  wem  ttUrA,  h«  saiil  untn  his  diM:iplf^  G»iher  up  ih(<  fregmfint* 
Rtn,  thai,  niitlilng  Im  lo^t. 

Ibre  thry  gsUiiTed  ltii<m  togplher,  and  (IIImI  Iwtlve  ImskrU  with  thn 
b  of  )lie  live  iwrley  Inaven,  whicti  nm«ini«1  nv«r  anil  abnrn  unln 
II  liarl  catiMi. 


the  wine  creBtcil  for  the  wedding  giiestB  at  Cana  has 
igarded  as  typicnl  of  the  wine  of  the  Eucharist,  so,  like- 
le  bread  miraciiloiialy  provided  for  the  hungering  inulti- 
itands  aymbolically  for  the  bread  of  the  sacranieDt. 
'o  tnimelea  are  inseparably  bound  together  in  character 
eaning.  We  have  already  seen  how  popular  was  the 
early  art  on  account  of  its  symboliem,  and  are  prepared 
,  the  second  ef[ually  well  represented  in  early  monu- 
In  this  we  are  not  disappointed,  and  turning  the  pages 
fucci's  volumes  of  engravings,^  we  soon  identify  the  sub- 
many  places,  — among  the  frescoes  of  the  catacombs,  in 
I  forma  of  aculpture,  and  in  mosaics.  Two  general 
of  composition  may  be  distinguished.  In  the  simpler 
Ihrist  stands  alone  with  a  row  of  baskets  before  him  or 
him,  to  one  of  which  he  points  a  wand,  A  larger  group 
s  when  he  is  supported  on  either  side  by  a  disciple,  and 
es  out  both  arms  horizotitally  to  bless  the  bread  and  Hah 
they  hold  in  their  hands.  The  number  of  baakets  may 
or  seven,  referring  respectively  to  the  first  and  second 
n  of  the  multiplication  of  loaves.  Sometimes,  but  rarely 
ipariaon,  the  indefinite  numbers  three  or  aix  are  used 
t  any  attempt  at  historical  accuracy,  the  object  being 
religious  symbolism. 

refer  now  to  a  single  example,  for  the  sake  of  definite- 
re  may  take  the  fresco  in  8.  Callisto  as  typical.  Our 
is  hsre  a  beardless  youth  iu  classic  drapery,  extending 
ttd  horizontally  over  the  loaves.  The  baskets  are  sim- 
fityle  to  the  ordinary  waste-paper  basket  used  in  business 
and  three  stand  at  hia  right,  two  at  the  left. 
'  attempt  at  n  historical  method  of  treatment  ia  ex- 
y  rave  in  early  art,  I  have  seen  such  an  instance  once 
ind  this  was  iu  one  of  the  panels  on  the  bishop's  chair 

1  GaiTUaci,  Storin  della  Aiit  CrUliana,  Prato,  1879. 


FROM   THE    SECOND    TO  THE    THIHU    FASSO( 

of  St  MaxiiuiaD,  Kavenna.  Following  immediate] 
ideal  group  of  Christ  blesi^ing  the  bread  and  fish,  il 
the  distribution  of  the  loaves.  Three  figures  sit 
the  foreground,  eHcb  holding  a  loaf  in  one  hand  i 
ing  the  other  in  the  formal  gesture  of  surprise.  I 
two  others  ask  for  a  portion,  and  two  disciples  w 
attend  to  their  needs.     The  next  examples  of  th 


trea,tnieut  are  in  the  illuminated  manuscripts  of 
Gospel  Books  of  Munich,  Gotha,  and  Trier  furnish 
In  Renaissance  art,  the  Multiplication  of  Loaves 
less  frequent  than  the  companion  subject,  the  Marris 
It  was  a  time  when  popular  taste  ran  more  to  elab 
ors  than  to  beautiful  landscapes.  Moreover,  there 
technical  difficulties  in  represejiting  so  vast  a  crow 
theless  we  find  a  few  painters  capable  of  appreciatii 
suggestiveness  of  the  subject.  One  of  these  was  ( 
took  it  as  the  Christly  prototype  of  the  Francis< 
of  alm^iving.  His  composition  was  a  fresco  in  t 
of  S.  Chiara,  Naples,  but  it  has  suffered  so  muc 


)s  of  time  tiiut  «e  must  ilBpeiiJ  upon  oliiet  writera  for  ai^ 
it  of   its  fealiiros.     The  Saviour  eits  on  an  elevation, 
ig  the  Iwskets  of  loaves  wliich  tire  at  Lis  feet.     His  dis- 

are  grouped  ubout  liim  ou  endi  eide,  busying  themselves 
I  way  and  aiiotlier  ia  Die  distribntiuu  of  the  loaves  and 
St,  Peter  is  the  most  active,  and  ia  giving  hreud  to  a 
of  men,  women,  and  children  in  front  of  hiiu.  In  thu 
ound  kneel  St.  Francis  on  one  side  and  St.  ttlara  on  the 
The  method  of  treatment  being  here  devotional  and 
rather  thau  hialoricj  the  incident  cannot  !«  distinguished 

first  or  second  miracle  of  feeding  the  multitude,  hut  may 
y  well  ineau  either. 

1503,  the  Sieiiese  painter  Bozzi,  then  ut  the  beginning  of 
.reer,  was  called  to  decorate  the  rt^feetory  walls  of  the 
nt  of  S.  Anna,  Pien»i.  Hero  he  represented  the  Feeding 
1  Five  Thousand  in  three  large  panels,  the  most  impor- 
of  course,  containing  the  group  of  Our  Lord  with  his 
los,  while  the  other  two  are  tilled  with  the  miscellaneous 
uy  waiting  for  the  bread.  Among  them  all  there  are 
w  interesting  figures,  and  there  is  little  or  no  dramatic 

shown  in  their  action   or  grouping.      A  single  group 

forth  as   possessing  a    striking    interest    and    Iwauty, 

kis  is  happily  Our  Lord  himself  and  the   lad  with  five 

loaves.     The  child  has  apparently  come  running  up  in 

and  holds  up  his  otTeriug  with  innocent  delight.  The 
IT  greets  him  with  a  gentle  smile  of  approval,  raising  his 
to  bless  the  bread.  His  face  is  singularly  rehned  and 
,  without  weakuesH,  and  the  entire  figure  is  full  of  dig- 

The  exceptional  qualities  of  this  single  figure  have  been 
lized  by  the  Arundel  Society,  which  has  ])ublished  a 
.notion  in  colors. 

ither  set  of  convent  frescoes  depicting  the  Miracle  of  the 
6  and  Fishes  ja  by  Geriuo  da  Pistoja,  a  pupil  of  Perugino, 
Lucchese  (now  suppressed),  near  Po^ibonsi. 

Tintoretto's  series  at  8.  Eocco,  Venice,  the  MidLiplica- 
[  Loaves  is  one  of  the  sulgects  treated,  substituted,  per- 
tor  the  Marriage  at  Cana,  which  does  not  appear.  Here, 
.uuately,  time  has  wrought  such  destruction  that  we  can 
ly  measure  the  original  value  of  the  work,  and  have  no 
rom  which  to  judge  whether  the  first  or  second  miracle 
irred  to.     The  setting  is  a  fine  landscape  on  the  slope  of 


FROM   THE  SECOND   TO  THE   THIBD  PASSOTEK 

a  woody  hill,  with  the  people  lying  on  the  grass  in  the  1 
ground. 

Among  works  of  a  cuntury  later,  the  picture  by  L.  Cai 
is  not  one  of  his  best  productions.  By  Pedro  Orrente,  a  S 
ish  painter  of  the  sehool  of  Toledo,  there  is  a  picture  in 


Hermitage  Gallery,  St.  Petersburg.     Christ  is  seated  In 
middle  of  a  landscape,   surrounded    by   his   disciples, 
crowd  fill  in  both  foreground  and  background  of  the  comj 
tion,  and  from  the  right  a  young  fisherman  approaches,  bea 
a  dish  of  lishes. 

By  Jlurillo,  in  the  Caridad  (or  Charity  Hospital),  Sev 
the  Miracle  of  Feeding  Five  Thousand  was  very  appropria 
chosen  as  the  twin  subject  of  Moses  striking  the  Eock. 
exteiisive  landscape  forms  the  setting,  with  uplands  where 


!a  are  gathered.  lu  tlia  forejjrounJ  are  two  iiidepend- 
w,  — (Jur  Lord  aiid  ilia  discijik-a  at  one  side,  and  aouie 
I  on  the  other.  The  Maetei'  in  seated,  holdiug  a  loaf 
ud  and  raisiiiif  the  otlier  in  heuodiction.  A  disciple 
act  uf  placing  the  whole  collectiuu  of  lonvua  in  hia 
other  Dpoatli;,  prcsuiuahly  Andrew,  is  talkiug  with  a 
3  Hide,  and  taking  the  basket  of  fish  which  the  latt«r 
The  picture,  thuugli  jiot  one  of  the  artisfa  masler- 
*  many  interesting  features.  The  original  sketch  is 
ite  collection  in  England,  and  a  replica  is  owned  in 

lyect  of  Feeding  the  Five  Thousand  is  included  among 
clihigs  us  an  illuatratiou  of  the  pussuge  iu  tit.  Luke 


VII.   FROM  THE  THIED  PASSOVER  TO   T 
ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM 

I.   Chrtst  and  the  Canaanite  (or  Syro-Phcenk 

Woman 

And,  behold,  a  woman  of  Canaan  came  out  of  the  same  coasts,  an 
unto  him,  saying,  Have  mercy  on  me,  O  Lord,  thou  son  of  David ;  my 
ter  is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil. 

But  he  answered  her  not  a  word.  And  his  disciples  came  and  besoug 
saying,  Send  her  away;  for  sh^crieth  after  us. 

But  he  answered  and  said,  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost  sheep  of  th 
of  Israel. 

Then  came  she  and  worshipped  him,  saying.  Lord,  help  me. 

But  he  answered  and  said.  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bre 
to  cast  it  to  dogs. 

And  she  said.  Truth,  Lord:  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which  fs 
their  masters'  table. 

Then  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her,  O  woman,  great  is  thy  faitl 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt.  And  her  daughter  was  made  whole  fro 
verv  hour.  —  Matt.  xv.  22-28. 

The  prayer  of  the  Canaanite  woman  for  her  dan 
like  that  of  the  centurion  for  his  servant,  is  one  of  the 
remarkable  exhibitions  of  humility  and  faith  which  oci 
in  Our  Lord's  ministry^  We  can  only  wonder  that  a 
been  so  blind  to  the  picturesque  suggestiveness  of  the 
Together  with  the  woman  who  touched  the  hem  of  C 
garment,  the  Greek  woman  of  Canaan  was  relegated  to  a 
oblivion  at  a  time  when  the  Samaritan  woman  and  the  \ 
taken  in  adultery  received  a  most  flattering  attention, 
can  scarcely  repress  the  suspicion  that  a  mor^  romantic  ir 
attaches  to  the  repentant  sinner  than  to  those  good  \ 
whose  simple  virtues  commended  them  to  the  master 
proval. 

The  appeal  of  the  Canaanite  woman  occurs  in  its  ] 
place,  as  an  illustration  in  the  illuminated  manuscri] 
medisevalism,  as  in  the  Gospel  Books  of  Gotha  and  Trie 
is  also  among  the  mosaics  of  the  Monreale  Cathedral,  t 


cum]Mi.'<itioiiM,  [ii  tlio  lirst,  lliii  iiiollir.'r  iippeals  to  the 
' ;  ill  t.lie  seconil,  ttiR  ilailghter,  lying  on  lier  bod,  is  svid- 
reed  from  tlie  devil,  wliich  flies  tip  out  of  her  mouth, 
■hese  mediieva]  exuraples  the  subject  is  wellaigh  for- 
tintil  the  time  of  modem  illustrated  Bihles,  where  it 


ppeara 


n  due  e 


the  intervBuing  period  may  he  n 


*alma  Vecchio,  in  the  Venice  Academy,  is  a  beautii 
i;  representing  the  inoutent  with  an  nitist's  keen  enjcn 
t  a.  dramatic  situation.  Christ,  in  the  middle,  leans  fot 
ith  tender  eagerness  to  hlesa  the  woman.  Kneeling 
:aape<i  handa,  she  looks  up  into  his  face  with  almost 

intensity.  Bebind  her  is  the  daughter,  introduced  into 
16  by  artistic  license,  as  St.  Mark  expressly  relates  that 
nained  at  home,  where  the  mother  fonnd  her  later  re- 
»  health.  .  In  the  picture  she  has  the  strained  expres- 

the  mentally  deranged,  lifting  her  face  to  the  Master 
le  eame  look  of  longing  which  her  mother  has.  The 
Christ  is  of  the  fine  Venetian  type,  which  Titian  after- 
perfected,  at  once  wise  and  loving,  gentle  and  strong. 
De  of  the  picture  is  quiet,  the  color  subdued,  and  the 
f  composition  particularly  fine. 
B  are  pictures  of  the  subject  by  both    Lodovico  and 


Annibale  Caracci,  —  the  former  in  the  Brera,  at 
but  I  have  not  seen  either,  and  can  find  no  descr 
them. 

By  Drouais,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  is  a  fine  picture 
ing  the  moment  when  one  of  the  disciples  appeals  tc 
send  the  woman  away.  Our  Lord  stands  in  the  centi 
down  thoughtfully.  A  group  of  disciples  is  near  hi 
foremost,  pointing  to  a  beautiful  woman,  who  kneels 
distance,  lifting  her  clasped  hands  appealingly. 

The  Canaanite  woman  pleading  for  her  daughter  i; 
among  the  Gospel  illustrations  by  Bida  and  Tissot. 
etching  the  woman  comes  to  hep  door  as  Christ  is  ] 
with  his  disciples.     In  Tissot's  water-color  the  dai 
companies  her  mother,  as  in  Palma's  painting. 

11.    Christ  Feeding  the  Four  Thousa: 

In  those  days  the  multitude  being  very  great,  and  having  not] 
Jesus  called  his  disciples  unto  him,  and  saith  unto  them, 

I  have  compassion  on  the  multitude,  because  they  have  now  b 
three  days,  and  have  nothing  to  eat; 

And  if  I  send  them  away  fasting  to  their  own  houses,  they  will 
wav :  for  divers  of  them  came  from  far. 

And  his  disciples  answered  him,  From  whence  can  a  man  satisf 
with  bread  here  in  \he  wilderness  ? 

And  he  asked  them,  How  many  loaves  have  ye  ?    And  they  sa 

And  he  commanded  the  people  to  sit  down  on  the  ground:  and 
seven  loaves,  and  gave  thanks,  and  brake,  and  gave  to  his  dis 
before  them ;  and  they  did  set  them  before  the  people. 

And  they  had  a  few  small  fishes:  and  he  blessed,  and  commi 
them  also  before  them. 

So  they  did  eat,  and  were  filled:  and  they  took  up  of  the  brok< 
was  left  seven  baskets. 

And  thev  that  had  eaten  were  about  four  thousand:  and  he  sent 
—  Mark  viii.  1-9. 

On  the  second  occasion  of  miraculously  feeding  \ 
tude,  the  original  number  of  loaves  was  seven,  inste 
as  in  the  previous  miracle.  We  are  therefore  to  v 
that  representations  containing  seven  baskets  refer  s 
to  feeding  the  four  thousand.  Many  such  are  amon^ 
coes  of  the  catacombs,  as  in  the  cubiculura  of  S.  C 
the  Cemetery  of  SS.  Trasone  e  Saturnino.  They  a 
similar  in  style  to  those  already  described  (p.  156),  t 
groujang  of  the  larger  number  of  baskets  is  variously 


i^re  in  two  rows,  nt  tlic  right  of  (Uirist ;  some-  ^^H 

grmipH,  nf  four  and  three,  or  five  ant!  two.              ^^H 

Buhjt^ct  tiaBACR  into  the  later  historical  method  of  ^^B 

treatment,  it  is  diOicuU  ^^H 

to  ilistinguish   it  from   ^^^^ 
thfi  Miracle  of  Feeding 

Five  Thousand.     It  u 

leas   jxipTdnr  than  tho  ^^1 

Intter,   liecause    it  con-^^^H 

i»fv '  y*#3^^?&^ 

tains  no  nuggestive  in-^^^H 

KN-r3^iW^?*J'/f 

cident    similar    to   An-^^^H 

drew's  discovery  of  the  ^^^^ 

lad  with  the  loaves  aud 

fishes.     The  only  sure 

means  of   identification    ^^1 

Wi^nii  aIiTr^  M 

is   its   association   with  ^^^| 

KH^^aiiS 

the                                     ^^H 

III  a.  missal  illuminat-  ^^^H 

ed  by  Liberale  da  Ve-  ^^^ 

rona '  (Siena    Cathedral 

T.ibrary),  the  initial  for 

Mil  iif  Loaves  (lni«-ri>Iii'f  fro 

„     the  service  on  the  sixth  ^^J 

lirirtian  Bflru..i<haKii*l                   Sunday  after  VentecOat.^^H 

contninfl  h  mininture  ia^'^^^H 

istrate  the  lesson  for  the  <lay  tu  the  eighth  chftp^^^H 

irk.     The  tiny  picture  is  full  of  figures,  crowding.^^^H 

ord,  who  is  seen  in  profile,  standing  apart  at  th»  ^^^H 

,  bleseing  the  basket  of  bread  at  his  feet.     Two  ^^H 

1  front  of  bim,  and  the  others,  closing  in  the  cir-  ^^^| 

n  their  faces  various  emotions  of  fear  iiud  surprise.  ^^^| 

B  rear  heiida  over  a  basket.                                            ^^^| 

T  Healtnt.  the   ULixr.  Man   «f  Uktiisaida     ^^M 

til  II,  Bc^tliHuUlu;Bi.d  IlioybriuK  a  blin<!  mull  imlo  liim,  vid.^^^| 

he  lilii.'I  tiisn  1.V  thu  lianrl,  ami  led  hhii  out  of  the  town;  ma^^^l 

It  on  h»  e.r<.'»,  and  pill  hh  lianda  upon  li!m,  he  ashed  him  '<^^^| 

1  up,  ninl  i>aid,  1  !?t'  nioii  at  trees,  walking.                                  ^^^^| 

put  his  bands  nj;Rm  upon  liis  eves,  and  inadt  liiin  looll  Up^^^^B 

ired,  and  »tw  vvvrv  nnui  cltarly.'— Makk  viii.  31-36.             ^^^M 

FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO  ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      J 

The  Healing  of  the  Blind  Man  of  Bethsaida  is  the  subj 
of  one  panel  of  the  Rossetti  memorial  window  in  the  church 
Birchington,  England,  where  the  painter-poet  is  buried.  1 
composition  is  nearly  filled  by  the  two  figures,  Christ  stand: 
at  the  left,  on  a  little  higher  level  than  the  blind  man,  towa 
whose  eyes  he  reaches  his  hand.  The  blind  man  is  a  beard  1 
youth,  carrying  a  staff  in  one  hand,  and  lifting  his  face 
thetically  to  the  Saviour's.  In  the  background  is  seen  i 
gate  of  the  city,  where  two  spectators  stand,  lifting  their  hai 
in  wonder  at  the  miracle.  Above  is  the  reference  to  St.  Mj 
viii.  22,  23,  and  below,  the  legend.  The  Light  shineth  in  Da 
ness. 

The  window  was  designed  by  Shields,  and  erected  by  E 
setti's  mother. 

IV.  The  Transfiguration 

And  it  came  to  pass  about  an  eight  days  after  these  sayings,  he  took  Pt 
and  John  and  James,  and  went  up  into  a  mountain  to  pray. 

And  as  he  prayed,  the  fashion  of  his  countenance  was  altered,  and  his 
ment  was  white  and  glistering. 

And,  behold,  there  talked  with  him  two  men,  which  were  Moses  and  Elij 

Who  appeared  in  glory,  and  spake  of  his  decease  which  he  should  acc< 
plish  at  Jerusalem. 

But  Peter  and  they  that  were  with  him  were  heavy  with  sleep:  and  w! 
they  were  awake,  they  saw  his  glory,  and  the  two  men  that  stood  with  hin 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  departed  from  him,  Peter  said  unto  ,Jef 
Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here:  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles; 
for  thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias:  not  knowing  what  he  said. 

While  he  thus  spake,  there  came  a  cloud,  and  overshadowed  them:  ; 
thev  feared  as  thev  entered  into  the  cloud. 

And  there  came  a  voice  out  of  the  cloud,  saying,  This  is  my  beloved  S 
hear  him.  —  Luke  ix.  28-35. 

And  suddenlv,  when  thev  had  looked  round  about,  thev  saw  no  man  j 
more,  save  Jesus  onlv  with  themselves. 

And  as  thev  came  down  from  the  mountain,  he  charged  them  that  tl 
should  tell  no  man  what  things  they  had  seen,  till  the  Son  of  man  were  ri 
from  the  dead. 

And  they  kept  that  saying  with  themselves,  questioning  one  with  anot 
what  the  rising  from  the  dead  should  mean.  —  Mark  ix.  8-10. 

The  Transfiguration  of  Our  Lord  stands  entirely  apart  fr( 
every  other  event  during  his  ministry  as  a  single  extraordint 
manifestation  of  his  divine  glory.  Hitherto  his  life  had  be 
poured  out  for  others  in  active  deeds  of  mercy  and  in  c( 
tinuous   preaching,  and  it  seemed  no  part  of  his  purpose 


his  owa  glory.     It  was  while  he  prayed,  and  when  his 

companions  were  sleeping  heavily,  that  suddenly,  as  if 
te  of  himsislf,  the  divine  IjilM  a  moment  the  limitations 
i  human  flesh  iind  sbuue  foith  with  doKxling  effulgence, 
retod  hy  Ilia  disciplus  iu  his  trans%ured  beauty,  he  en- 
L  secrecy  upon  them  until  he  should  rise  from  the  dead. 
^fti^B  cltwely  connects  in  religious  significance  the  Trans- 
tion  with  the  llcsnrrection,  ttie  former  as  a  promise  and 
ecy  of  the  latter. 

a  Buhject  of  art,  the  Tnnafigtintion  has  assumed  two 
,\  forms  of  composition.  In  the  more  literal,  Chrnt 
I  on  an  eminence,  between  Moses  and  Elitta ;  in  the  more 
the  three  figures  are  raised  above  the  surfnce  of  the  «arth, 
:  being  surrounded  by  a  mandorla,  or  oviil  i^lory.     The 

form  limy  liuvii  hi^en  suggested  by  the  Ev^n^'clist's  stitte- 
that  the  prophets  -'  appeared  in  glory,"  hut  in  nny  case  ' 

5  very  appropriate  artistic  expression  fov  a  supornaturalj 
B  in  the  uppeHraticc  of  Jesus. 

e  gesture  of  tlie  transfigured  Christ  js  viiriouely  inter- . 
I,  —  sometimes  u!4  one  of  blessing,  sonictimcs  us  one  of 
r,  most  often,  perhaps,  as  an  outreaehing  to  the  heavenly 
r,  with  both  hands  raised.  The  prophets  are  in  an  atti- 
of  adoration,  kneeling  or  standing,  each  a  digniiied  old 
The  three  disciples  are  always  on  a  lower  level,  seated 
ng  on  the  ground,  and  apparently  just  starting  from  a 
Their  attitudes  and  gestures  of  surprise,  fear,  and  adora- 
are  similar  to  those  of  the  shepherds  in  the  Annunciation 
e  Shepherds,  or  of  the  guards  in  the  later  types  of  the 
Taction. 

6  history  of  the  Transfiguration  as  an  art  subject  dates 
mably  from  the  mosaics,  as  I  find  no  evidence  of  its  ap- 
nce  in  earlier  monuments,  such  as  bas-reliefs  of  any  kind, 
^scoes  ill  the  catacombs.  Two  examples  in  mosaics  are 
veil-known  symbolic  representation  in  S.  Apollinare  in 
i,  Ravenna,  and  the  decoration  in  the  vault  of  St.  Cath- 
s  Monastery,  Mt.  Sinai. 

llowing  these  next  in  chronological  order  come  the  minia- 
of  illuminated  manuscripts  ;  as  in  the  Evangelarium  at 
a-Chapelle,  the  Gospel  Book  of  Munich,  and  the  minia- 
of  Girolamo  da  Cremona  at  Siena, 
historical  series  illustrating  the  complete  life  of  Christ, 


FROM  THIRD  PASSOVER  TO  ENTRY  INTO   JERUSALEM      16 

there  has  been  no  unanimity  as  to  the  importance  of  th 
Transfiguration,  owing,  it  seems  to  me,  to  ignorance  of  th 
theological  relations  of  the  event,  and  also,  perhaps,  to  the  sim 
larity  between  the  subject,  artistically  regarded,  and  the  moi 
important  incidents  of  the  Resurrection  and  Ascension.  Giotto 
series  at  Padua,  usually  regarded  as  a  typical  selection,  do( 
not  include  it,  nor  is  it  in  the  Cologne  school  panel  of  th 
Berlin  Gallery ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  Barna,  Gadd 
Ghiberti,  and  Fra  Angelico,  all  introduce  it  into  their  series. 

Ghiberti's  treatment  is  along  the  more  literal  lines,  Chri; 
and  the  prophets  standing  on  a  level;  while  Gaddi's  is  of  tl 
other  type,  showing  the  Christ  in  mid-air  in  a  raandorla,  wit 
Moses  and  Elias  kneeling  on  the  earth.  Fra  Angelico's  in  tl 
Florence  Academy  series  is  of  the  former  type,  but  in  one  < 
the  frescoes  of  San  Marco  the  monk-painter  rises  to  an  unusu; 
originality.  Christ  stands  on  a  rocky  eminence  with  his  arn 
extended  horizontally,  to  represent  the  Crucifixion,  of  whic 
he  was  talking  to  Moses  and  Eliae.  The  prophets  appear  i 
visions,  their  heads  alone  being  seen  on  the  outer  edges  < 
the  mandorla.  The  three  disciples  are  grouped  below  in  tl 
usual  manner. 

In  the  later  Renaissance  the  Transfiguration  never  becan 
fl  very  frequent  subject.  There  are  a  few  interesting  exar 
pies  from  the  Venetian  school. 

By  Lorenzo  Lotto  there  is  an  early  work,  profusely  gilde< 
in  the  Municipio  at  Recanati. 

By  Bellini  there  is  an  early  work  (attributed  to  Mantegnj 
in  the  Correr  Museum,  Venice. 

By  Pennachi,  in  the  Venice  Academy,  is  a  lunette  showir 
only  the  three  figures  of  the  Christ  with  the  prophets. 

By  Titian  there  is  a  very  interesting  picture  of  the  Tran 
figuration,  painted  at  the  age  of  eighty-nine.  Christ  is  ju 
rising  from  the  earth,  which  he  touches  with  his  right  foot  ; 
with  outstretched  arms  he  looks  to  heaven.  The  prophets  a: 
on  either  side,  and  the  three  awestruck  apostles  watch  hi 
from  the  foreground.  The  picture  is  in  the  Church  of  ! 
Salvatore,  Venice,  and  Titian's  brother,  Francesco  Vecel] 
painted  the  same  subject  on  the  organ  shutters  of  the  san 
church,  as  a  companion  piece  to  the  Resurrection. 

By  Tintoretto  there  is  a  picture  of  the  Transfiguration  i 
the  Church  of  S.  Afra,  Brescia. 


J  Savoldo  there  are  two  pictures,  one  in  the  Uffizi  Gral- 
Florence^  and  another  in  the  Ainhrosiana,  Milan.  The 
;ing  of  the  Uffizi  is  noted  for  fine  color.  The  arrange- 
.  is  simple  and  without  originality.  The  Christ  is  a  rather 
Qonplace  figure,  standing  on  an  eminence  between  the  two 
bets  and  raising  both  arms  to  heaven.  Moses  and  Elias^ 
somewhat  lower  level,  adore  him,  and  the  three  disciples 
V  fall  backwards  in  fear,   their  faces  illumined  by  the 

from  the  Saviour's  glory, 
le  Transfiguratidn  was  twice  painted  by  Perugino,  the  first 

in  1500,  among  the  frescoes  of  the  Cambio  at  Perugia, 
the  second,  in  1522,  as  an  altar-piece,  now  in  the  Perugia 
3ry.  The  latter  work  is  not  notable,  but  the  former  is 
ed  by  some  the  painter's   best  inspiration.     It  occupies, 

the  Nativity,  the  wall  opposite  the  entrance  in  the  great 

of  Exchange,  the  two  representing  together  the  divine 
the  human  united  in  the  person  of  Christ.  Lifted  above 
earth  and  the  things  of  earth,  the  Saviour,  gentle  and 
jn,  is  seen  standing  on  a  small  cloud,  surrounded  by  the 
iorla.  The  prophets  kneel  each  on  a  cloud  on  either  side, 
e  the  disciples,  looking  up  from  the  earth,  express  emotions 
iner  than  common  fear  and  amazement,  —  rather  a  solemn 
and  ecstasy  in  the  beautiful  vision. 

3rugino's  picture  carried  to  full  perfection  the  style  made 
id  by  preceding  generations  of  painters.  It  would  seem 
nothing  better  was  possible  within  these  limits,  but  when 
>ame  compositional  elements  had  been  fused  in  E-aphael's 
ing  imagination  they  wore  wrought  out  in  an  essentially 
form.  There  is  here  nothing  artificial  or  mechanical  in  the 
ition  of  Christ  above  the  earth ;  it  is  rather  the  inevitable 
ancy  of  a  human  body,  suddenly  freed  from  the  restraint 
itural  law,  rising  in  the  spirit  of  prayer  towards  the  Father 
pirits.  The  poise  is  a  fine  example  of  Raphael's  un- 
ig  power  to  hold  to  the  golden  mean  between  a  heavy 
lanical  attitude  and  a  fantastic  and  exaggerated  agility, 
is  less  successful  in  the  figures  of  the  prophets,  whose 
ions  are  somewhat  incongruous  with  their  dignity, 
lie  dazzling  glory  of  the  vision  is  indicated,  not  by  any 
lanical  mandorla,  but  by  an  emanation  of  golden  light,  the 
b  of  which  is  vividly  manifested  in  the  group  of  disciples 
V,  blinded  by  the  radiance.      The  face  of  the  Saviour  is 


F&UM    TUIKD    FASSOVJfiK    TO    EJiTJtY    LNTO    JEKUSALJSM       It)', 

lifted  heavenward  with  an  expression  of  holy  rapture,  as  i 
looking  into  the  heaven  of  heavens.  The  lower  half  of  th 
picture  is  devoted  to  a  group  surrounding  the  demoniac  child 
whom  Our  Lord  healed  upon  descending  the  mount.  The  tui 
moil  of  excitement  below  brings  into  striking  relief  the  celes 
tial  apparition  above,  towards  which  eager  pointing  hands  ar 
lifted  from  the  crowd.  The  total  effect  is  of  an  elongatec 
pyramid,  filled  at  the  base  with  struggling  humanity,  ani 
crowned  at  the  apex  with  the  serene  figure  of  the  diviu' 
Kedeemer. 

The  history  of  the  picture  is  of  peculiar  interest  as  Raphael' 
last  work,  left  unfinished  at  his  death.  It  was  originally  in 
tended  for  the  Cathedral  at  Narbonne,  and  was  painted  at  th' 
order  of  the  Cardinal  de  Medici,  who  at  the  same  time  com 
missioned  Sebastian  del  Piombo  to  paint  another  work  for  th 
same  place.  The  two  artists  were  thus  brought  into  opei 
competition,  and  the  verdict  of  the  ages  has  been  in  favor  o 
the  Transfiguration.  After  the  death  of  Raphael  it  was  de 
cided  to  retain  the  picture  in  Rome,  and,  passing  through  man^ 
vicissitudes,  it  has  found  a  final  resting-place  in  the  Vaticai 
Gallery. 

In  modern  church  decoration  the  Transfiguration  is  ai 
appropriate  though  not  frequent  theme.  There  is  a  curiou 
window  design  by  Ford  Madox  Brown,  in  which  the  subjec 
is  treated  as  prefiguring  the  Passion,  Our  Lord  being  repre 
sented  with  the  crown  of  thorns  and  the  stigmata.  Th< 
Transfiguration  is  the  suj)ject  of  the  reredos  in  high  relie: 
in  the  Church  of  the  Transfiguration,  New  York. 

V.  Christ  Healing  the  Demoniac  Child 

And  one  of  the  multitude  answered  and  said,  Master,  I  have  brought  untc 
thee  my  son,  which  hath  a  dumb  spirit; 

And  wheresoever  he  taketh  him,  he  tearetli  him:  and  he  foameth,  anc 
ffnasheth  with  his  teeth,  and  pineth  awaj"-:  and  I  spake  to  thy  disciples  tha 
they  should  cast  him  out;  and  they  could  not. 

lie  answereth  him,  and  saith,  O  faithless  generation,  how  long  shall  I  be 
with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ?  bring  him  unto  me. 

And  they  brought  him  unto  him:  and  when  he  saw  him,  straightway  th( 
spirit  tare  him;  and  he  fell  on  the  ground,  and  wallowed  foaming. 

And  he  asked  his  father,  How  long  is  it  ago  since  this  came  unto  him  * 
And  he  said.  Of  a  child. 

And  ofttimes  it  hath  cast  him  into  the  fire,  and  into  the  waters,  to  destroy 
liini:  but  if  thou  cunst  do  anything,  have  compassion  on  us,  and  help  us. 


-eaaa  snkl  iinio  him,  If  lliuu  ciiiiM  tiillcvL',  M  Ibiiigt  arc  |W9silU  tlM^O 

ilwlieveth. 

Ad  stiaighlwaj-  the  father  of  lUc  chlltl  cried  oul,  and  sud  wilb  U'si?,  Lord, 

-lievt^  h«l|i  thou  tuine  uulipliel. 

fhea  Jesoii  «vr  ihM  the  people  i 

of  him,  MLil  enter  iiu  more  into  hi 

ne  deail;  iiisaniucJi  Hint  many  mid,  He  b  dead, 

M  Jeniii.  took  him  hv  (he  hand,  and  lifted  him  «[.;  und  he  aruM.  -  Mauk 

17-87. 

riie  Healing  of  the  Demoninc  ('hild  is  velatod  witii  great 
llicitiiess,  and  as  the  details  are  of  a  nature  to  make  llie 
iject  entirely  unfit  for  art,  it  has  seldom  been  repreaeuted. 
We  have  already  noted  Raphaera  allusion  ti(  the  incident 
the  lower  portion  of  t!ie  Tranafigumtion.  Here  the  mo- 
at depicted  is  the  father's  iuelTectvial  appeal  to  the  disciples 
llie  ahaeuce  of  tlie  iVIaater.  The  child  throws  out  liis  arms 
)  rigid  gesture  while  the  father  holds  him  from  heliind  and 
disciples  press  forward  on  the  other  side  with  every  ex- 
Bsion  of  pity,  imiazument,  and  solicitude. 
(t  is  related  that  the  sudden  cessation  of  the  dreadful  di&- 
8  at  Our  Lord's  bidding  left  the  child  as  dead,  whereupon 

Master  lifted  liim  up  by  the  hand.  This  closing  episode 
ihe  narrative  is  the  subject  of  Bida's  engraving  illustrating 

Jiiuth  chapter  of  St.  Mark.  The  child  lies  on  the  ground, 
the  centre  of  the  composition,  with  Christ  beuiling  over  him 
01  the  rear,  and  a  man  (probably  the  father)  kneeling  beside 

proatmte  form  and  raising  his  face  to  the  Master's. 

Tl.  The  Tribute  MoHBr  MiBACULOUSLy  Pkovided 

nd  when  they  were  eome  to  Caperoanm,  they  that  received  tributu  miinoy 

e  to  Peter,  and  Biuii,  Doth  t:ot  your  maBtor  pay  tribute  ? 

esaith,  Yea.    And  when  he  was  come  into  the  hunse,  Jesus  prereuted  bim, 

ag,  What  thiokest  thott,  Simon  ?  of  whom  da  the  kin^.s  of  tlie  earth  taka 

om  or  tribute  1  of  their  own  ehildrEn,  or  of  atraQgorH  1 

«ter  BDJth  uutn  iiim,  Of  Htntngers.    Jfbus  solth  unto  him.  Then  ace  the 

otwithatauiliug,  lent  we  should  ofFend  Ihem,  go  thou  to  the  .^ea,  mid  cast 
took,  and  lake  uptha  Gahthat  first  eometh  up;  and  when  thou  hant  opelisd 
(Douth,  thnn  shalt  lind  a  piece  of  money:  that  take,  and  give  unlo  them 
■ue  and  lh«e.  —  Matt.  xvii.  24-37. 

Dur  Lord's  relation  to  the  civil  government  was  twice  dis- 
sed  in  connection  with  the  payment  of  tribute  dues,  —  oncSj 


rRo\f  inuii  PA=;'5f)\ni  ro  i\rR\  i\ro  jfiils\l1'M    1/ 


at  liis  own  instance,  with  the  apostle  Peter,  and  agaiu  ivitl 
some  of  thp  Pliariaeca  specially  delegated  to  entrap  him  ii 
debate,  These  inciiieiita  have  on  the  surface  a  contemporar 
rather  than  universal  interest,  and  Lave  therefore  not  beei 
luode  a  part   of  the  serial  treatment  of  Christ's  life  in  art 


miraculous  provision  of  the  tribute  moiioy  ii 
seuted  aa  ii  aceiio  In  the  life  of  the  prince  of  apostles, 
luch  it  ia  one  of  Masnccio's  fresouts  in  tlm  }iran(\icci 
el  in  the  Church  of  the  Carmine,  Florence.  Three  Beetles 
Dnibined  in  one  L'otniwsition.  In  the  centre  Christ  stands, 
uailed  by  a,  circle  of  bis  disciples,  giving  the  order  to 
•f  who  points  to  the  4Viiter  at  the  left.  At  one  side  I'cter 
ax  again  on  the  bank,  tending  over  to  take  the  coin  from 
Qouth  of  a  lish.  At  the  right  the  aiiofitte  appears  a  third 
pnying  the  trihnte  to  an  otticial.  The  picture  has  bc- 
y;enerul!y  familial'  on  account  of  its  historical  importance 
part  of  the  famous  series  which  became  a  veritable  art 
imy  for  succeeding  generations  of  Italian  painters. 
'  the  ypanisji  painter  Kibura,  known  in  Italy  aa  Lo  Spa- 
itto  (the  little  Spaniard),  there  is  an  interesting  picture 
e  Corsitii  Gallery,  Rome,  of  Christ  commanding  Peter  to 
the  tribute  money.  The  group  is  well  conceived,  with 
it  standing  in  the  centre,  facing  out,  and  Peter  kneeling 
e  foreground  at  his  feet,  his  fine  strong  face  seen  in  pro- 
Two  other  disciples  stand  beside  .lesua  on  the  right  of 
iicture.  i)a  tlie  groimd  lies  a  fish,  to  which  Peter  poiuta, 
Dg  the  coin  in  the  right  hand  uud  raising  his  face  inquir- 
The  Saviour  makes  a  commanding  gesture  with  out- 
ihed  hand,  pointing  out  of  the  picture.  lu  the  background 
.tirman  is  seen  on  a  rock  by  the  lakeside. 


VII.  Thk  Ten  Lkpers  Healed 

>a  be  entered  inio  a  ceilaiii  village,  there  met  him  ten  men  IhU  Wi 
whicli  stuud  sfiu'  all; 

Oiey  lifted  up  tlielr  rolcex,  and  Haid,  Jeaiif,  Master,  have  mettj  an 
■  311  he  saw  Ihein,  be  said  untn  Ihem,  Go  shew  yourBelfiiB  unto  I 
ind  it  eaine  to  p»w,  that,  aa  they  went,  thty  wera  clennBeil, 
of  them,  when  he  suw  that  he  was  hoalod,  turned  bac)<,  and  w 
!e  glorified  Qed, 
ilnwa  on  his  lane  ai  hjs  fuel,  giving  liiin  thanks:  and  he  WK 
Itaiu 
Jestu  answering  said,  Were  there  nut  ten  cleansed  ?  hut  wliere  are  i 


retunitirt  Id 


FROM   THIRD  PASSOVER  TO  ENTRY   INTO  JERUSALEM      1 

So  loathsome  a  disease  as  leprosy  would  seem  quite  beyo 
the  proper  sphere  of  artistic  representation,  and  the  healing 
the  ten  lepers  as  an  art  subject  is  found  chiefly  in  the  cou 
of  complete  sets  of  Bible  illustrations.  It  occurs,  for  instan 
in  the  mosaics  of  the  Monreale  Cathedral.  From  illuminal 
manuscripts  we  may  cite  as  examples  the  Gospel  Book 
Gotha,  and  the  miniatures  by  Girolamo  da  Cremona  a 
Liberale  da  Verona,  in  the  Siena  Cathedral  Library.  Liberj 
has  selected  with  great  delicacy  of  feeling  that  moment  of  t 
narrative  when  the  Samaritan  leper,  alone  of  the  ten,  thro 
himself  gratefully  at  the  Saviour's  feet.  The  other  nine  i 
seen  receding  in  the  distance,  passing  through  the  gate  of  t 
city. 

In  Bida's  series  of  etchings  the  story  is  treated  as  a  str( 
scene,  with  the  ten  lepers  huddled  together  at  the  end  of  t 
street  in  the  background  of  the  compositioh.  Our  Lord  star 
in  the  foreground,  looking  down  the  street  towards  the  i 
fortunates,  raising  his  right  hand  with  the  miracle-worki 
gesture. 

In  Tissot's  water-color  the  lepers  are  portrayed  with  a  re 
ism  which  makes  them  a  grotesque  and  painful  sight. 

VIIT.    Christ  with   the  WoMAir  taken  in  Adultei 

And  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  brought  unto  him  a  woman  taken  in  ad 
tery ;  and  when  they  had  set  her  in  the  midst. 

They  say  unto  him,  Master,  this  woman  was  taken  in  adultery,  in  the  vi 
act. 

Now  Moses  in  the  law  commanded  us,  that  such  should  be  stoned:  1 
what  fjayest  thou  ? 

This  they  said,  tempting  him,  that  they  might  have  to  accuse  him.  1 
Jesus  st()oi)ed  down,  and  with  his  finger  wrote  on  the  ground,  as  though 
heard  them  not. 

So  when  they  continued  asking  him,  he  lifted  up  himself,  and  said  u 
them,  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her. 

And  again  he  stooped  down,  and  wrote  on  the  ground. 

And  they  which  heard  it,  being  convicted  by  their  own  conscience,  w 
out  one  by  one,  beginning  at  the  eldest,  even  unto  the  last:  and  Jesus  > 
left  alone,  and  the  woman  standing  in  the  midst. 

When  Jesus  had  lifted  up  himself,  and  saw  none  but  the  woman,  he  s 
unto  her,  Woman,  where  are  those  thine  accusers  ?  hath  no  man  condemi 
thee  ? 

She  said,  No  man,  Lord.  And  Jesus  said  unto  her.  Neither  do  I  conde 
thee:  go,  and  sin  no  more.  —  John  viii.  3-11. 


le  doubt  cnst  by  niodLTii  criticism  upon  tbe  authentieitjH 
18  incideut  of  Christ  and  the  Adulteress  lias  bad  do  effect 
,  tbe  popular  sentiment  in  regard  to  the  event.  It  is  naU 
y  accepted  as  a  parallel  to  tiie  incident  in  the  hoiixe  of 
m,  and  there  can  be  no  impropriety  in  assuming  tliiit  He 
ioz^ve  the  sinner  who  anointed  hia  feet  would  deal  with 
1  geutleneas  with  uny  other  erring  woman. 

diversity  of  opinion  exists  in  regard  to  tlie  origin  of  the 
lie  treatment  of  the  subject.  There  is  occasionally  found 
Ig  early  art  monuments  n  group  represeuling  ('hrist  with 
man  kneeling  at  his  feet,  wlio  is  variously  eoiisidered  the 
an  who  touched  the  hem  of  liis  garment,  the  Syro-Phceni- 
woman,  or  the  woman  Itiken  iu  adultery.  In  whatever 
this  question  is  settled,  it  reujaiiis  true  that  the  subject 
not  actually  developed  before  the  sixteenth  century,  when 
18  quite  popular  iu  every  art  school,  and  particularly  with 
^■enetianB. 

0  subject  from  Christ's  life,  originating  in  this  jwriod,  is 
L  comparable  with  those  of  longer  standing  as  an  exponent 
Bred  sentiment.  Selected  at  this  late  day,  the  attraction 
purely  testhetic,  and  not  at  all  religious.  This  principle 
pecially  marked  in  the  subject  under  consideration.  It 
(egarded  as  a  romautic  episode  in  which  a  handsome  young 

espouses  tbe  cause  of  a  pretty  woman  in  distress.  Like 
roman  of  Samaria,  the  adulteress  shows  no  si^ni  of  shame 
Worse,  nor  is  Our  Lord  the  dignified  figure  of  one  who, 
ring  the  sinner,  yet  rebukes  the  sin.  In  short,  both  the 
al  figures  are  generally  far  from  being  an  ideal  expression 
e  true  meaning  of  the  incident. 

le  scene  is  usually  in  the  precincts  of  the  temple,  and 
jomposition  includes  the  figures  of  numerous  spectators, 
es  and  Pharisees.  The  woman  stands  opposite  Christ, 
aits  or  stands  in  the  middle  of  the  picture.  Sometimes 
B  brutally  dragged  iu  by  soldiers,  a  version  quite  uuwar- 
d  by  St.  John's  narrative.  In  the  later  pictures  she  is 
ling.  Tbe  moment  varies  with  the  artist.  Most  often 
it  addresses  tbe  scribe  who  has  asked  him  the  question, 
ither  pictures  he  is  writing  on  the  ground,  or  perhaps 
;ing  to  what  he  has  written,  the  latter  action  being  the 
tei's  own  interpolation. 
lave  nowhere  seen,  except  iu  Tissot's  series,  any  rejireEeuta- 


f 


tliat  later  luometit  uheti  (Jlirist,  left  uloiie  with  the 
Idresses  Lis  imui  worda  to  her.  It  soetna  strange  that 
atiful  eoleiiinity  of  this  scene  has  not  appealed  to  artiBte. 
principal  examples  rjiust  lie  taken  fruin  V'euutian  art,  in 
he  aul^ject  was  fur  obvious  reusoiis  a  K|i«ciul  fftvorite. 
A  are  at  least  two  piotares  of  Ciu'ist  ani.1  the  Adulteress 
nea  Lotto,  one  in  Loreto,  and  one  in  the  Louvre,  Paris. 
latter  there  are  copies  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  and  in 
da  and  Barberini  Palaces  ut  Borne.  The  eonipoBition 
I  seventeen  half-length  lij^ures,  five  actiug  as  dramatix 
B  iu  the  foreground.     The  woman  etauds  at  the  left, 

u  soldier.  A  scribe  in  front,  accoinponittd  by  a  young 
efers  his  charge  to  Christ,  who  is  in  the  centre,  etaud- 
a  raised  hand. 

fal  pictures  ot  the  subject  have  been  attributed  to  Titian, 
■e  among  them  are  authentic  in  the  light  of  recent  critj- 
One  of  these  in  8.  Afra,  Brescia,  is  probably  the  work 
io  Oampi.  In  a  landscape  setting,  with  a  temple  and 
ten  in  the  distance,  the  Saviour  addresses  a  Pharisee  on 
1,  while  a  woman  stands  on  the  right,  surrounded  by 
users,  and  bending  before  Christ.  The  figures  are  in 
gth,  and  the  heads  are  all  interesting,  though  that  of 
e  unfortunately  the  weakest  in  the  picture, 
iher  in  the  Belvedere,  Vienna  (copy  in  the  Gallery  at 
,  may  be  the  work  of  Pailovauino.  In  this  the  motif 
iwhat  unique,  as  Christ  is  apparently  moving  away, 
tearing  the  uhai^e,  he  turns  about.     A  man  drags  the 

forward  towanls  Christ,  and  a  venerable  scribe  holds 
;roll,  presumably  the  Mosaic  law.  In  the  Capitol  at 
B  a  third  picture,  formerly  attributed  to  Titian,  but  now 
,n  early  work  of  Palma.  The  picture  of  the  Corsini 
,  Rnme,  once  assigned  to  Titian,  is  now  authoritatively 
J  lloeco  Marconi.  Another  by  Eocco  Marconi  is  in  the 
Gallery,   showing  the  painter  himself  as  one  of  the 

jretto  several  times  repeated  the  subject  of  Christ  and 
alteress,  examples  being  in  the  Venice  Academy,  in  the 
I  Gallery,^  and  in  tlie  archbisliop's  palace  at  Milan. 


>iclureB  in  tba  Venice  Arademy  anil  in  the  Dresden  Gnllery  are 
in  Berenson'n  list  uf  TintoretCu'u  works  ia  tlie  VcHtltim  JWntertJ 


n 


FKOM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUS 

The  motif  in  these,  as  is  elsewhere  so  common,  is 
reply  to  the  scribe.  He  sits  at  the  base  of  a  pi 
already  traced  the  words  on  the  pavement  at  his  fe 

Some  pictures  from  northern  art  deserve  mentioi 

By  Franz  Francken  II.,  in  the  Dresden  Gallery 
in  the  act  of  writing  on  the  ground. 

By  Lucas  Cranach,  in  the  Munich  Gallery.     Th< 
in  half-length,  and  the  heads  of  Christ  and  the 
admirable. 

From  the  workshop  of  Cranach,  in  the  Dresd 
A  spirited  conception  of  the  scene.  Christ,  g 
woman's  wrist,  turns  to  a  man  who  holds  a  ston( 
lenges  him  to  throw  it,  gesturing  with  his  free  ha 
the  woman. 

Of  seventeenth  century  painters  who  have  treat 
ject,  the  best  known  names  are  Poussin,  K-ubens 
brandt. 

Poussin's  picture  is  in  the  Louvre,  Paris.  ^. 
kneels  weeping  in  front  of  Christ,  surrounded  by 
Pharisees.  At  the  right,  a  group  of  spectators  are 
words  Christ  has  traced  on  the  ground. 

The  picture  by  K-ubens  is  at  Leigh  Court,  Ei 
contains  twelve  figures  in  half-length. 

Rembrandt's  painting  is  in  the  National  Galle 
and  is  dated  1644.  The  scene  is  the  interior  of  a  { 
cathedral  at  the  foot  of  a  broad  staircase  leading 
altar.  All  the  light  is  concentrated  on  the  figure  oi 
kneeling  on  a  lower  step  at  the  feet  of  the  Mas 
priest  beside  her  lifts  the  veil  from  her  face.  Th 
ures  are  but  dimly  discerned  in  the  deep  obscurity 
velops  the  picture.  It  is  a  characteristic  work, 
well  Rembrandt's  peculiar  qualities  both  in  techn 
interpretation. 

Our  latter-day  painters  have  not  neglected  th 
though  pictures  are  not  common  because  unsuital 
eral  distribution.  Hofmann's  painting,  in  the  Dresc 
is  well  known,  and  combines  with  the  classical  el 
well  balanced  composition  a  dignified  and  earnest  r 
timent.  Other  pictures  are  by  Siemiradzki,  by  Ot 
Domenico  Morelli,  and  the  subject  is  included  ii 
trated  Bibles  of  Bida  and  Tissot. 


m 


Trb  Qood  Saxamoias 


as  answerinc  siud 

A  certain  m 

a  went  di.w 

m\  fi-11  amring  tin 

eves,  whieh  h 

ripped  him 

f  hia  raiment,  and 

iin,  alid  departed, 

leaving  liiro  lialf  dend. 

chmica  there  tarn 

dnwuacerUl 

way:  and  when  ho 

hepa^fdbj-imth 

other  side. 

ewi»e  a  Levile,  wb 

mihewaawttl 

and  looked  on  him, 

I  by  on  the  dtlur  lidc 

rtain  SamariUu, 

8  be  ioumaye 

i,  eame  where  he  was;  and  when 

n,  be  had  com]ia»A 

oil  on  him, 

nt  ["  him,  and  km 

III  up  bia  woi 

mis,  peuring 

n  oil  and  wiae,  and 

hJB  own  bcait,  and  brought  liini 

took  care  of  him. 

tho  morrow  whe 

wo  iwnce,  and  gave 

e  liost,  and  ™d  u 

lo  him.  Take 

are  of  him; 

nd  whalaoover  thou 

•aon,  wh>ni  I  c«me 

agua,  I  win  r 

pay  thee. 

Dc-wpftbiwci  three 

tbinhest  thou, 

was  noighbo 

or  UDto  him  tiiat  fell 

thieves? — Litke 

x..so-m. 

1 


)uF  Lord's  definition  of  a  neighbor,  the  atoiy  of  the 
imaritaa  is  deeply  impressed  upon  the  popular  imagi- 

It  is  one  of  the  few  parables  which  has  had  any 
ince  in  art,  Iming  second  to  the  Parable  of  the  Prodigal 
antiquity  and  importance.  It  appears  in  the  Gospel 
:  Munich  and  is  iimong  the  miniatures  by  Liberale  da 
in  the  Siena  Cathedral  Library,  In  the  sixteenth  cen- 
WAB  frequently  treated  both  in  northern  and  Italian  art. 
rii-h  Aldegre\er  gives  us  the  story  in  four  scenes. 
CO  Feti  includes  it  in  his  series  of  the  parables  in  the 
1  tiallery. 
.  the  Bassano  family,  as  would  be  expected,  it  was  a 

subject.  Like  the  Appearance  of  tho  Angel  to  the 
ds,  it  afforded  a  simple  mntif  for  a  landscape  picture, 
asant  figures  in  the  foreground.  There  is  a  line  picture 
fftcopo,  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna,  and  another  in 
ional  Gallery,  London.  A  third,  by  Francesco  Bassano, 
B  Berlin  Gallery,  and  is  evidently  based  upon  the  origi- 
Vienna.  The  moment  chosen  in  every  case  is  when 
Ejd  Samaritan  binds  up  the  wounds  of  the  unfortunate 
,  his  ass  and  dog  standing  near  by.  The  priest  and 
ire  seen  disappearing  in  the  distant  landscape.  Mrs. 
n  praises  especially  the  picture  in  the  National  Gallery, 
he  says  is  "  full  of  character,  while  the  color  has  the 
nd  transparency  of  gems." 


1 


0    KR      U    E\    lY      N  E    Ua\    tft 


\  e  HP  I  ctu  e  tl  e  Dr«eJen.  C  allery  si  o  vs  esse  t 
tl  e  same  iles  g  tb  (  nod  Sama  tan  be  ng  11  the  act  uf  p 
ng  0  1   n  tl  e       q    !a    f  b  a    e  ^1  bor 

In  tl  e  Dutcb  art  f  tbe  se  enteenth  century  tbe  th 
cbo  e     f  tl  e  story   1  tho  moment  of  am  ai  at  the 

There    ?  a  p  cture  of  th  s  subject  >y  Adt  an  van  der  "S  e 
and  t  TO  by  Rembrandt       11  e  pa  nting  by  Kembrandt  (16 

tlelov       Pra        f     ous  as  tbe  finest  of  tbe  mast 


liHtl'jj ' 


Tl  e  sett  ng  s  tl  oro  gbly  cbaracter 
nn  across  wh  ch  tl  p  wounded  ma 


orks  of  tl  b  class 
—  ti  e  do  ryari  of  n 
car  od  by  t  vo  ervanta  a  tb  rd  bol  l  ng  tbe  borse  n 
TCI  rhe  C  od  Sa  nantan  1  as  ^one  n  n  ad  ance  of 
1  ttle  ca  alcaie  and  sta  1  on  II  e  door  teps  at  the  ght 
the  Hndlorl  As  he  turns  abo  t  be  shows  ua  bis  fine  str 
n  anly  f a  e  I  gl  te  I  vath  compos  on  He  is  handaor 
(ires  e  i  and  s  e  k  tly  a  person  of  consequence  A 
lo  V  look  u^  out  nto  the  yard  s  cto  vded  w  th  tbe  bea 
those  who  wish  to  see  tbe  new  arr  val 


veml  years  before  (1033),  Rfinilirsnilt  Imii  nIrcaHy  eaaaj 
ame  general  suliject  in  an  etching,  but  with  slightly  differ^ 
letaiifi  in  arrangement.     The  wounded  traveler  is  being 

from  his  horse  on  tu  the  inn  steps,  while  the  Samaritan, 
tore,  makes  )iis  eKplanutiou  to  the  host  iu  the  doorway. 
'  Sir  Charles  Ettstlake  there  is  a  celebrated  picture  of 
Jood  Samaritan,  painted  in  1850.  The  earlier  motif  is 
,  of  tbe  Samaritan's  iirst  ministrations  to  the  stranger, 
the  treatment  is  strongly  religious  in  sentiment.      The 

Samaritan  ia  very   plainly   intended  to  represent  Our 

himself,  hia  face  and  dress  being  of  the  usual  Clirist 
Sitting  on  the  gronnd,  he  tenderly  supports  the  wounded 
igainst  his  knee.  A  fine  horse  stands  at  one  aide,  nibbling 
rasa  while  he  waits  for  his  niaater.  In  jwint  of  composi- 
;hia  is  perhaps  the  finest  of  Eaatlake's  sacred  pictures, 

modem  picture  by  Siemerolh  is  well  known  througli 
ductions,  and  treats  the  subject  in  a  manner  similar  to 
bovB. 

picture  by  E.  Dupaiti,  exhibited  in  1877,  met  with 
ed  success.  It  follows  the  typical  northern  picture  in 
al  style,  showing  the  arrival  of  the  party  at  the  inn. 


Christ 

IN    THE    HoUN 

K  OF  Mar 

TRA    AND 

Makv 

it  vaiiio  U>  \iass,  m  they  went,  that  he  entereil  into  a.  cer 
MrWin  woman  named  Martha  received  him  inlq  her  house 
ibK  hml  a  sister  called  Marj-,  Which  also  Bat  at  Jeans'  fee 

ain  village: 
and  hfard 

Martha  was 
lost  Ihou  nil 
re  that  she 

iDhlud  ahuu 

Uk«;fa''wa" 

cnmbered  almnt  mnch  serving,  anil  came  to  hi 
1  care  that  mj-  sialer  halli  left  me  to  aerva  alo 
help  me. 
ered  and  said  nnio  her,  Marths,  Martha,  thou 

iieedfnl:  and  Mary  hath  ehosen  that  good  part 
from  her  — LuHE^   38*2 

m,  and  said, 
B  ?  hid  her 

which  shall 

le  of  tbe  most  toucl  mg  features  in  tlio  life  of  the  Man 
rrowa  is  his  i  tin  a  y  n  tl  e  household  at  Bethany,  com- 
;  of  Lazaru        d  1      t  sl^rs      Hither  be  came  often, 

OS  we  Bupp  f  est  Vt  one  time  a  question  raised 
[artha  was  tl         c.  fa  reproof  from  tbe  Saviour, 

1  St.  Lnke  nl  ^  1  me  detail.  This  incident  was 
ally   over]    ked    n  tl      p  riod  of  sacred  art  when  sub- 


FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM 

jects  were  sought  chiefly  for  their  symbolic  and  doctrinal 
nificance.     Not  until  a  late  era  was  the  more  intimate 
domestic  aspect  of  Christ's  life  considered  in  relation  to  ai 

The  earliest  example  I  have  found  of  the  artistic  reprc 
tation  of  Christ  in  the  house   of   Martha  and  Mary  is 
Latin   manuscript  of  the   New   Testament    ornamented 
miniatures  in  a  Greek  style.     This   treasure   belongs  to 
Vatican  Library,  and  some  of  the  illustrations  are  reprod 
in   the  ^^  Histoire  de  PArt   par  les    Monumens,"  by  Se 
d'A^incourt,  who  assigns  the  work  to  the  twelfth  or  thirte 
century.      The  composition  referred  to  shows  an  outdoor  s 
with  the  city  wall   (Jerusalem)  in  the  background.     A  re 
table  is   set   in   the  centre,  with   Christ   placed   in   the 
Mary   kneels   at   one   side  and  Martha  approaches  from 
other,  bearing  a  plate.     Christ  gestures  to  Martha  as  ii 
dressing  her. 

The  subject  is  also  among  the  frescoes  of  the  Kinu 
Chapel  (by  Giovanni  da  Milano),  S.  Croce,  Florence,  w 
it  is  one  of  that  series  of  compositions  illustrating  the  lii 
the  Magdalene  already  referred  to  (p.  136). 

In  the  sixteenth  century,  the  Bassano  family  (da  Pont 
painters  were  the  only  artists  apparently  who  made  Uise  of 
incident.^  Like  the  other  New  Testament  subjects  which 
selected,  it  afi'orded  special  attractions  for  genre  pain 
There  are  no  less  than  five  pictures,  perhaps  more,  attrib 
to  different  members  of  the  family,  in  European  galleries 
the  Hermitage,  St.  Petersburg,  in  the  Uffizi,  Florence,  in 
Brera,  Milan,  in  the  Munich  Gallery,  and  in  the  Cassel 
lery.  Doubtless  they  are  all  copies  of  some  lost  orig 
The  composition  shows  an  interior,  with  table  laid,  and 
maid  busy  with  a  kettle  which  hangs  over  the  fire.  C 
and  the  two  apostles  have  just  entered  and  are  welcomec 
the  two  sisters,  Mary  falling  at  the  Master's  feet,  while  '. 
tha  invites  him  to  the  table. 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  the  subject  of  Christ  with  ] 
tha  and  Mary  became  quite  popular  in  all  the  art  schoo 
Europe,  and  was  treated  by  some  of  the  best  painters  of 
time.  In  these  pictures  a  single  motif  was  uniformly  chc 
the  moment  being  later  than  that  of  the  Bassano  pictures, 

1  A  single  exception  is  the  painting  by  Tintoretto  at  Augsburg,  of  \ 
I  am  unable  to  get  any  description. 


listinctly  illustrutive  of  thi?  [loirii  of  the  riaiTativo.  Chri^B 
ed,  with  Mary  ut  his  iout,  and  Itlartlia  is  making*  her  ra- 
ifiil  appeal.  I  will  nietition  some  specific  exnmples. 
Velaa(£iiBZ,  in  tho  Nationul  Gallery,  London.  An  in- 
picture  sliowing  two  apartuienta.  At  tho  left  is  a 
n  scene  wlieve  a  maid  Btands  at  a  tablts  receiving  orders 
tn  elderly  woman.  Through  a  window  at  the  right  an 
room  ia  seen  in  which  Christ  aits  with  the  two  aiaterB, 
sing  Martha.  Here  the  incident  which  give:^  meaning 
I  picture  ia  entirely  subordinated  aa  a  mere  excuse  to 
a  attractive  title  to  a  genre,  painting, 
ih  Steenwyck  the  order  of  the  two  rooms  ia  reversed, 
oreground  is  occupied  with  a  splendid  hall  lighted  by  a 
w  at  the  left.  Tho  kitchen  occupies  the  background, 
1  an  arched  doorway.  Our  Lord  is  seated  at  a  table  in 
ill,  with  Mary  on  a  low  atool  teaide  him,  an  open  book 
-lap.  Martha  stands  iii  the  centre,  and  to  her  the  Master 
with  his  gentle  rebuke.     The  picture   is  in  the  Louvre, 

1  Louvre  contains  another  picture  of  the  same  subject  by 
net,  consisting  of  eiglit  iigures,  (tve  of  whom  are  disciples. 
,  sitting  in  the  centre,  turns  to  Martha  to  reply  to  the 
tn  indicated  by  her  gesture  towards  her  sister  seated 
te  bim. 

Le  Sueur,  in  the  Munich  Gallery,  is  a  picture  con- 
1  by  Victor  Cousin  one  of  the  artist's  finest  pieces. 
Mmposition  also  includes  a  group  of  disciples  in  addi- 
I  the  chief  figures.  There  is  a  good  copy  at  Marseilles, 
.th's  "  Catalogue  raiEonnti  "  describes  a  painting  of  Christ 
Martha  and  Mary,  formerly  in  the  collection  of  the 
',  The  scone  is  laid  in  a  court  inclosed  by  a  marble 
rade,  and  the  Saviour  sita  in  the  middle,  between  tbo 
^ters,  Mary  seated  with  a  book  on  her  lap,  and  Martha 
Qg.  The  kitchen  is  seen  through  an  open  door.  I 
nothing  of  the  present  whereabouts  or  condition  of  this 
),  but  there  is  a  painting  in  the  Ryka  Museum,  Amster- 
there  assigned  to  tlje  monogranmnst  V.  M.  L.),  which 
te  after  the  manner  of  Rubens  and  in  a  very  similar 
)f  composition  to  that  described  by  Smith.  Our  Lord, 
er,  is  not,  as  usual,  turning  to  Martha,  but  raises  hia 
I  heaven,  laying  one  hand  on  his  breast  and  gesturing 


Ii  the  other  towards  Mary  to  indicate  that  she  has  chosen 
le  better  part." 

]!hrist  in  the  House  of  Martha  and  Mary  is  the  snhject  of 
Qmber  of  later-Jay  picturee,  none  of  ivliich  are  notable  coit- 
wtions  to  art.  Martha's  former  character  of  a  seold  has 
a  much  modilied,  and  she  is  rendered  not  less  attractive 
ti  her  sister,  but  of  a  contrasting  type  of  beauty.  There 
examples  by  Sieniiradzki,  by  Paul  Ijeroy,  by  Scfatinherr, 
Hofinann,  and  in  the  illustrated  Bibic?. 
^iomiradski's  picture  is  one  of  the  moat  original  of  those, 
ag  an  attempt,  previously  never  made,  to  give  an  oriental 
racter  to  the  scene.  The  setting  is  the  walled  garden  just 
side  the  house,  and  Christ  sits  on  a  atone  bench,  engaged 
conversation  with  Mary.  Martha  comes  down  the  steps 
the  rear,  with  a  vessel  to  draw  water.  The  effect  is  pio- 
asque  and  suggestive. 

XI.  The  Rkstokatton  of  thk  Man  born  Blind 

ad  UK  Jflias  passed  by,  ha  sityi  a  man  which  was  hiind  frnm  bin  binli. 

Dil  bis  di8«i]ileB  asked  hiin,  Aayiiif*,  Mtuter,  who  did  iiiti,  this  nuuv  ur  Iiis 

ints,  that  he  viu  iHirn  Mind  ? 

Dias  answvrcd,  Neither  hatii  thiK  man  sinnvil,  nur  fiis  ]>arenl>i;  liut  that 

works  nf  God  ahnuJd  be  made  manilest  in  him. 

must  work  t&B  works  nf  liim  Uiat  Beat  me,  while  it  is  duj-:  llie  nij-ht 

etb,  when  nn  man  van  work. 

»  long  as  t  am  iu  the  worJd,  I  am  the  light  of  the  world. 

then  he  had  IhuH  spoken,  he  npal  on  the  griiiind,  and  made  day  o(  Ihn 

tie,  anil  he  snoinled  tlio  e;-es  uf  the  blind  man  with  the  clay, 

nd  wid  untu  him,  Go,  wash  In  the  pool  nf  Siloam,  (which  if  by  interpreta' 

,  Sent.)    He  went  hia  way  therefore,  and  wanhed,  and  came  seeing.  — 


The  Restoration  of  the  Man  bom  Blind  is  included  among 

subjects  in  variotia  illustrated  Bibles, 
By  Bida  the  story  is  set  in.  an  oriental  arcaded  street.  The 
nd  man  stands  leaning  against  a  wall,  supported  by  a  staff, 
rist  stands  opposite,  with  one  hand  on  the  man's  eyes,  bend- 
-  forward  with  the  scrutinizing  interest  of  a  physician.  In 
1  background  are  groups  of  spectatorK. 

By  Tissot  the  narrative  is  illustrated  by  two  wate^eolors. 
o  scene  of  the  first  is  at  the  pool  of  Siloam,  ivhile  the 
ond  is  in  the  synagogue  where  the  blind  man  is  questioned 

the  CTiriouB,  and  for  answer  points  to  the  distant  figure  of 


FROM  THIRD   PASSOVER  TO   ENTRY  INTO   JERUSALEIV 


XII.  The  Kaising  of  Lazarus 

Now  a  certain  man  was  sick,  named  Lazarus,  of  Bethany,  the  town 
and  her  sister  Martha. 

Therefore  his  sisters  sent  unto  him,  saying,  Lord,  behold,  he  wh( 
lovest  is  sick. 

When  Jesus  heard  that,  he  said,  This  sickness  is  not  unto  death,  bu 
glory  of  God,  that  the  Son  of  God  might  be  glorified  thereby. 

Now  Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus. 

When  he  had  heard  therefore  that  he  was  sick,  he  abode  two  day; 
the  same  place  where  he  was. 

Then  after  that  saith  he  to  his  disciples.  Let  us  go  into  Judaea  agair 

Then  when  Jesus  came,  he  found  that  he  had  lain  in  the  grave  ii 
already. 

Then  Martha,  as  soon  as  she  heard  that  Jesus  was  coming,  went 
him:  but  Mar3'^  sat  still  in  the  house. 

[And  Martha]  went  her  way,  and  called  Mary  her  sister  secretly, 
the  Master  is  come,  and  callelh  for  thee. 

As  soon  as  she  heard  that,  she  arose  quickly,  and  came  unto  him. 

And  [Jesus]  said,  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?  They  said  unto  hii 
come  and  see. 

Jesus  therefore  again  groaning  in  himself  cometli  to  the  grave, 
cave,  and  a  stone  lay  upon  it. 

Jesus  said,  Take  ye  away  the  stone.  Martha,  the  sister  of  him  1 
dead,  saith  unto  him.  Lord,  by  this  time  he  stinketh:  for  he  hath  hi 
four  days. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that,  if  thou  wouldest 
thou  shouldest  see  the  glory  of  God  ? 

Then  they  took  away  the  stone  from  the  place  where  the  dead  a 
And  Jesus  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  said.  Father,  I  thank  thee  that  tl 
heard  me. 

And  I  knew  that  thou  hearest  me  alwa3\s :  but  because  of  the  peop 
stand  by  I  said  it,  that  they  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me. 

And  when  he  thus  had  spoken,  he  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  Lazar 
forth. 

And  he  that  was  dead  came  forth,  bound  hand  and  foot  with  grav< 
and  his  face  was  bound  about  with  a  napkin.  Jesus  saith  unto  thei 
him,  and  let  him  go.  —  John  xi.  1-44. 

To  pagan  Rome,  one  of  the  most  wonderful  doctrines 
new  religion  was  that  of  the  resurrection.  The  glorioi 
of  a  life  beyond  the  tomb  took  deep  hold  upon  hea 
imagination,  and  entirely  transformed  all  existing  ideas  of 
It  naturally  followed  that  in  those  places  where  the  dea 


rest,  the  most  [jroniinciit  decorations  sliould  teach  tl 

idea  of  tlie  faith.  The  walls  of  the  catacombs  and  the 
T  of  the  sareophagi  were  specially  devoted  to  this  pur- 

The  Kaisiiig  of  Lazarua  wob  appropriately  set  apart 
he  firat  aa  that  one  of  Our  Lord's  three  iiiirucles  of  rais- 
B  dead  luoet  perfeutly  tuaiiifestiug  hia  power  over  the 
of  life.  The  daughter  of  ilaitua  had  hut  juat  passed 
irhen  recalled  to  health ;  the  youth  of  Kain  was  still 
ed  ;  but  Lazarus  had  been  four  days  in  the  tomb,  and  his 
Hon  was  a  defliiite  foreshadowing  of  Chriat's  power  to 

the  body  terrestrial  into  the  body  celeetial. 
lust  be  rememhered  that  in  the  first  jieriod  of  Christian 
3  subject  of  Our  Lord's  own  resurrection,  which  the 
IB  made  the  corner-stone  of  the  new  doctrine,  was  deemed 
ible  for  representation.  It  would  have  been  coasidered 
ent  and  presumptuous,  an  unwarrantable  lilierty  with  a 

mystery,  to  make  any  such  att«mpt.  The  art  fornis 
nade  symbolic  and  indirect  rather  than  literal,  and,  if 

typical  and  representative  rather  than  specific.  The 
epresentation  of  the  Buisiug  of  Lazarus  is  in  suah  a 
ized  form  that  the  casual  ohserver  woidd  scarcely  identify 
tie  few  simple  elements  of  which  it  is  composed  may 
"be  gathered  from  the  almost  countless  engravings  in 
ci's  "  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana." 

3ne  side  is  the  tomb  in  the  form  of  a  tiny  house  with 
I  roof,  such  as  children  draw  (or  used  to  draw)  on  their 
The  figure  of  Lazarus,  swaddled  like  a  mummy,  is  seen 
ig  upright  in  the  entrance,  Christ,  standing  opposite, 
a  the  head  of  the  dead  man  with  a  wand.  The  tomb  may 
1  pretentiousness,  drawn  from  a  side  or  front  point  of 
md  may  be  built  with  or  without  steps.  The  wand  in 
jid  of  Christ  is  sometimes  omitted,  when  the  miracle  ia 
it  by  the  outstretched  arm,  the  finger  pointing  to  the 

It  is  somewhat  of  an  advance  upon  this  composition 
the  figure  of  one  of  the  sisters  is  added,  kneeling  at  the 
it's  feet.  This  is  sometimes  seen  on  baa-reliefa, 
there  are  always  a  few  exceptions  to  the  most  rigidly 
Dmposition,  we  can  find  an  occasional  instance  where  the 
if  Lazarus  stands  quite  unsheltered,  opposite  Christ,  no 
Deing  visible.  I  have  ,ilso  seen  a  surl  of  rock  tomb 
llted  for  the  house. 


FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER  TO  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM      11 

The  history  of  the  subject  of  the  Raising  of  Lazarus  m; 
be  compared  with  that  of  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi.  ] 
immense  popularity  in  early  art  was  the  basis  of  an  unfailii 
adherence  to  it  through  all  the  following  centuries.  It 
almost  never  missing  from  any  kind  of  serial  treatment 
Christ's  life,  in  miniatures,  frescoes,  or  carvings,  the  few  e 
ceptions  which  prove  the  rule  ^  being  very  insignificant.  Tl 
development  of  the  subject  of  Our  Lord's  resurrection,  whi( 
it  originally  represented,  never  crowded  it  out.  As  would 
expected,  it  is  an  important  part  in  any  series  specially  d 
voted  to  the  miracles,  as  in  the  mosaics  of  S.  Apollinai 
Ravenna,  and  the  frescoes  at  Oberzell.  Also  it  occurs  in  co 
nection  with  the  life  of  Mary  Magdalene,  who,  as  we  have  see 
is  traditionally  considered  the  sister  of  Lazarus.  Exampl 
are  in  the  frescoes  of  the  Rinuccini  Chapel,  S.  Croce,  Florenc 
and  in  various  triptychs,  all  previously  referred  to  (p.  136). 

As  a  subject  in  historical  series,  the  elementary  compositi( 
of  the  catacombs  becomes  greatly  enlarged,  adhering  closely 
the  main  features  to  the  text  of  St.  John.  The  tomb  is  no 
a  cave  or  rock  in  the  midst  of  a  landscape.  The  two  sistei 
Martha  and  Mary,  are  invariably  present,  one  or  both  kneelin: 
Our  Lord  is  accompanied  by  his  disciples,  and  there  is  a  var 
ing  number  of  amazed  spectators.  One  or  two  among  the 
avert  their  faces,  lifting  their  drapery  to  the  nose,  as  if  annoy ( 
by  the  odor  of  corruption  from  the  tomb.  The  dramat 
moment  is  also  different  from  that  in  the  earlier  represent 
tions.  Before  it  had  illustrated  the  words  inaugurating  tl 
miracle  :  "  Lazarus,  come  forth."  Now  the  miracle  is  in  pr 
gress,  the  face  of  Lazarus  is  uncovered,  and  there  are  signs  < 
returning  life.  In  Fra  Angelico's  panel  (Florence  Academy 
he  is  standing  quite  unsupported,  holding  his  hands  palm  i 
palm.  In  Giotto's  fresco  (Padua),  he  is  between  two  me 
who  have  apparently  just  brought  him  forth,  one  of  whom  sti 
holds  him.  Both  these  painters  represent  the  Christ  as  a  di 
nified  and  authoritative  figure.  Giotto's  Christ  makes  tl 
gesture  of  benediction ;  Fra  Angelico's  Christ  stretches  out  h 
arm  as  if  giving  directions.  The  women  kneel  with  fac< 
turned  to  the  Master. 

1  As  in  the  panels  of  the  Cologne  school,  Berlin  Gallery,  and  in  Tadd( 
Gaddi's  series,  in  the  Florence  Academy.  Mrs.  Jameson  attributes  its  occ 
sioual  omission  to  the  fact  that  the  Virgin  Mary  is  not  present. 


typical  composition  of  historical  series  became  the  basis 
the  separate  pictures  of  the  later  Italian  Renaissance. 
le  there  are  not  a  few,  but  they  are  not  from  the  hands 
greatest  and  most  celebrated  masters.  Two  stand  out, 
T,  with  special  prominence  as  truly  great  pictures.  One 
le  is  by  Leandro  Bassano  (da  Ponte),  in  the  Venice 
ly,  rich  in  color  and  splendidly  composed,  full  of  spirit 
ion.  Lazarus  holds  the  central  position,  with  the  other 
circling  about  him.  He  sits  on  the  edge  of  a  sarco- 
,  while  two  men  remove  his  grave-clothes.  His  attitude 
pression  are  admirably  conceived.  Next  in  interest  is 
»vho  kneels  joyfully  opposite  him.  By  this  arrange- 
le  figure  of  Christ  is  thrown  back  of  the  foreground  and 

Mary,  being  seen  only  to  the  waist.  Thus,  instead  of 
he  chief  personage  in  the  group,  he  is  at  least  third  in 
mce,  and  carries  no  real  dominating  force  in  the  action, 
h  better  known  is  the  painting  by  Sebastian  del  Piombo, 

in  competition  with  Raphael's  Transfiguration,  and 

the  National  Gallery,  London.     At  the  time  of  the 

ition  it  was  an  open  secret  in  Rome  that  Michael  Angelo 

ies  with  del  Piombo,  and  helped  him  in  his  work.     It 

believed  (according  to  J.  P.  Richter)  that  tlie  picture 

m  Michael  Angelo's  own  design,  as  there  are  drawings 

British  Museum  which  support  this  opinion.  The 
wliat(».ver  its  origin,  was  finely  executed  by  the  painter, 
ng  what  is  justly  esteemed  "  one  of  the  noblest  pictures 
;."  The  commanding  figure  of  the  Master  stands  in 
1st  of  a  throng  of  people,  directing  the  unbinding  of  the 
lothes.  Lazarus,  seated  on  his  sarcophagus,  lifts  his 
a  dazed,  wondering  way.  Ilis  splendid  muscular  figure 
J  wistful  sadness  of  his  dark  face  suggest  at  once  those 

beings  who  fill  tlie  Sistine  Chapel  with  their  mysteri- 
sences.  Thorouglily  characteristic,  too,  of  Michael  An- 
kill  is  tlie  individualization  of  the  people  who  fill  every 
le  spot  in  the  middle  foreground,  and  extend  in  an 
en  line  on  either  side  into  the  distance.  Every  con- 
8  attitude  and  emotion  is  illustrated,  and  there  is  not 
ictator  among  them  all  who  is  not  intensely  interested 
miracle.  Tlie  perfect  unity  of  thought  which  is  main- 
throughout  is  almost  without  a  parallel  in  sacred  com- 
is  containing  a  similar  number  of  figures,  except  in  da 
Last  Supper. 


FROM  THIRD  PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO  JERD8ALEM 

The  two  sisters  are  worthy  of  Eapliael,  in  the  exqu 
delicacy  of  their  profilea,  and  the  grace  and  dignity  of  I 
pose.  Martha,  standing  in  the  rear,  turns  tiivay  her  head 
almost  fearing  to  look  at  the  wonder,  while  Mary,  kneelir 


the  Saviour's  feet,  lifts  her  face  adoringly  to  his.  In  a  pit 
satisfying  alike  to  the  eye  and  to  the  .dramatic  sense,  the 
thing  lacking  is  a  worthy  representation  of  the  face  of  Cli 
In  this  the  artist  signally  failed,  leaving  an  otherwise  faul 
work  forever  uosatisfactory, 


utliei'  exaiiiplus  from  Italiiin  art  may  be  Lriefly  set 

Ftiifazio  II.,  ill  the  Tjouvre.  lit  the  middle,  Christ 
Fartha  tmeeliiig  ut  hia  left  in  front  of  the  disciples, 
jlit,  Ijazarue  is  raised  from  the  sepulchre  by  two  men, 
prayer  near  by.  In  the  background  aro  the  specta- 
le  miracle.  lu  the  Dresden  Gallery  is  another  pic- 
feuted  to  IJonifazio,  which  is  disfigured  by  restoration, 
itoretto.  Besides  the  painting  of  S.  Rocco,  there  is 
^t  Dorchester  House,  Loudon. 

rofalo,  in  the  Ferrara  Gallery.  A  picture  painted  in 
S.  Francesco.     The  cwniJOKitioii  is  said  to  be  excel- 

3Tcino,  ill  the  Louvre,  Paris.     A  composition  of  eight 

mples  from  northern  art,  I  have  collected  a  list  ex- 
rer  the  fifteenth,  sixteenth,  and  seventeeuth  centuries, 
ng  some  of  the  best  known  names  in  German,  Flemish, 
i  art.      I  will  desotibo  briefly  some  of  the  moat  im- 

iafi  vou  Leyden.  An  interesting  print.  The  tomb  ia 
g  in  a  hillfliJe,  whence  Lazarus  issues,  and,  in  a  kneel- 
ia,  looks  np  appealingly  to  Christ.  The  Saviour  stands 
is  raised,  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  thank  God  for  hearing 
r.  Groups  of  German  peasants  are  on  each  side, 
the  sisters,  one  of  whom  kneels,  bending  backward 
•ravagant  attitude  of  amazement,  ivhile  the  other, 
is  more  grave. 

(use,  in  the  Brussels  Museum.  A  wing  of  a  triptych. 
ring  ia  according  to  the  traditional  type,  Christ,  with 
lea  behind  him,  calling  to  Iiazarus  to  come  forth,  and 
lamerging  from  the  tomb,  with  hands  clasped,  Martha, 
I  their  friends,  completing  the  scene.    The  Alm^hty 

jture  attributed  to  AJbert  f)uwater  {Herlin  Gallery), 
g  is  unique  and  quite  contrary  to  historical  fac^ 
I  the  interior  of  a  chapel,  closed  in  the  background 
pBe.  Ivazarus  has  been  buried  under  the  tiled  marble 
i  a  Christian  church  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The 
I  slab  covering  his  grave  has  been  moved  diagonally 
opening,  and  on  it  sits  the  resurrected  man,  his 


1 


countonaucc  liaviug  the  awakened  sleeper's  expreesion  offi 
conectousneBa.  C'lirist  at  the  left,  with  the  long,  solemiS 
of  the  northern  art  tyj^,  raises  his  hand  to  bless.     AJ 


d  LazariiK  empliaftizen  the  wonder  of  the  miracle  by  ex- 
ve  attitude  and  genture.  Groups  on  each  side^  including 
HterK,  complete  the  com]K)sition. 

Otto  Voenius,  in  tlie  Antwerp)  Cathedral.  Christ  in  the 
I,  facing  out,  raiscH  liis  right  hand  and  looks  down  upon 
lis,  who  lies  acrosn  the  foreground  surrounded  by  his 
s.  One  riister  kneels  nt  the  Master's  feet,  and  the  other, 
1  her,  leans  towards  him  with  clasped  hands,  while  she 
at  her  brother. 

Bubeus,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery.  The  composition  con- 
)nly  six  figures,  groui>cd  comi)actly.  Christ  stands  in  pro- 
t  the  left,  with  a  delicately  moulded  but  not  strong 
Bxtendiug  botli  arms  in  a  somewhat  meaningless  gesture. 
lis,  sitting  opposite,  raises  adoring  eyes  to  him.  The  sisters 
between,  one  absorbed  in  her  brother,  the  other  turning 
I,  with  face  lifted  to  Christ,  both  of  them  types  of  buxom 
sh  beauty,  incapable  of  expressing  any  exalted  spiritual 

Rembrandt  there  is  a  painting  in  the  collection  of  Mr. 
IS,  of  Chicago.  A  rectangular  sarcophagus  extends  across 
'ont  of  the  picture,  in  the  rear  of  wliich  Christ  stands, 

out,  and  raising  his  right  arm  high,  with  palm  out. 
us  has  raised  himself  to  a  sitting  posture,  still  but  half 
ous.  The  light  falls  diagonally  from  the  left.  Far 
celebrated  is  llenibrandt's  etching  of  the  same  subject, 
ed  to  the  year  1633.  It  is  perha])s  not  too  much  to  say 
b  is  the  noblest  conception  of  the  event  ever  transferred 
The  composition  is  of  the  utmost  simplicity.  The 
is  the  interior  of  a  large  cave  hung  with  armor.  Groups 
ictators  peer  out  of  the  dim  recesses  on  either  side.  At 
ift,  standing  in  profile,  is  the  Saviour,  raising  his  right 
to  call  forth  Lazarus.  A  single  glance  identifies  him  as 
iord  of  Life.  We  have  searched  for  him  in  vain  in  the 
1  efleminate  peasant  of  the  Italians,  and  in  the  sombre 
il  ecclesiastic  of  tlie  Germans,  always  dissatisfied  with 
conceptions,  never  deceived  by  the  artificial  devices  with 

they  strive  to  conceal  their  failure.  Here  he  stands  in 
5  majesty,  impressing  us  unconsciously  with  a  sense  of 
ndous  latent  force.  His  towering  figure  fills  the  whole 
vith  power,  and  the  pallid  figure  of  Lazarus  quivers  with 
flux  of  returning  life. 


FBOM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      1 

The   French   schools   have  apparently  not  produced  mg 
pictures  of  the  Raising  of  Lazarus.     The  triptych  by  Frome 
in  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence,  is  a  notable  exception,  anc 
interesting  because  of  this  early  attempt  at  realism  in  the 
liueation  of  Lazarus,  who  is  an  emaciated,  skeleton-like  fign 

Christ  is  in  the  act  of  benediction,  and  has  the  sorrow 
aspect  of  one  who  has  been  weeping,  with  tears  litera 
standing  on  his  face.  The  composition  is  closely  crowc 
with  figures,  under  three  elaborately  carved  Gothic  arches. 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus  was  one  of  the  subjects  painted 
Jouvenet,  in  1700,  for  the  Church  of  St.  Martin,  the  picti 
now  being  in  the  Louvre. 

Benjamin  West  painted  the  Raising  of  Lazarus  for  an  alt 
piece  in  the  Winchester  Cathedral,  England. 

Our  account  of  the  subject  is  not  complete  without  feo 
mention  of  contemporary  pictures.  A  signal  success  has  be 
won  by  the  young  American  painter,  Henry  O.  Tanner,  wh( 
picture  of  the  Raising  of  Lazarus  has  lately  (1897)  been  add 
to  the  collection  of  the  Luxembourg,  Paris.  The  artist,  i 
hampered  by  traditional  prejudices,  has  treated  the  subject 
a  striking  realistic  way.  In  the  foreground  Lazarus  is  rais 
half  out  of  his  grave,  his  head  supported  by  an  old  man  w 
bends  over  him.  In  the  centre  stands  Our  Lord,  gentle  a 
compassionate,  looking  down  upon  Lazarus  and  holding  < 
both  arms  in  a  gesture  of  summons.  The  group  gathered 
the  rear  express  vividly  the  various  emotions  excited  by  1 
wonderful  event. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  paintings  of  recent  times 
Vedder's  head  of  Lazarus,  owned  (1898)  by  Mr.  Melville 
Stone,  of  Chicago.  The  whole  story  is  compressed,  as  it  we 
into  this  wonderful  face,  on  which  the  mysteries  beyond  1 
veil  have  left  their  ineffaceable  traces.  Recalled  once  more 
the  old  life,  he  accepts  the  summons  with  sweet  submissi 
and  a  solemn  gladness  in  obedience. 

In  studying  the  history  of  the  artistic  treatment  of  t 
Raising  of  Lazarus,  one  cannot  fail  to  notice  how  limited  1 
been  the  range  of  motifs  employed  from  a  narrative  aboundi 
in  striking  situations.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  sacred  art 
the  future  may  develop  some  new  phases  of  the  rich  subjecl 


.    The  Parables  of  the  Lost  Sheep,  the  Lost 
Money,  and  the  Prodigal  Son 

e  spake  this  parable  unto  them,  saying, 

man  of  you,  having  an  hundred  sheep,  if  he  lose  one  of  them,  doth 

e  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness,  and  go  after  that  which  is 

1  he  find  it  ? 

hen  he  hath  found  it,  he  layeth  it  on  his  shoulders,  rejoicing. 

hen  he  cometh  home,  he  calleth  together  his  friends  and  neighbours, 

into  them,  Rejoice  with  me;  for  I  have  found  my  sheep  which  was 

into  you,  that  likewise  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
1,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  which  need  no  repent- 

what  woman  having  ten  pieces  of  silver,  if  she  lose  one  piece,  doth 
a  candle,  and  sweep  the  house,  and  seek  diligently  till  she  find  it. 
hen  she  hath  found  it,  she  calleth  her  friends  and  her  neighbours 
saying.  Rejoice  with  me;  for  I  have  found  the  piece  which  I  had 

se,  I  say  unto  you,  there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  Grod 

sinner  that  repenteth. 

i  said,  A  certain  man  had  two  sons: 

le  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father,  Father,  give  me  the  portion  of 

it  falleth  to  me.    And  he  divided  unto  them  his  living. 

)t  many  days  after  the  younger  son  gathered  all  together,  and  took 

ey  into  a  far  country,  and  there  wasted  his  substance  with  riotous 

hen  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mighty  famine  in  that  land;  and 
to  be  in  want. 

;  went  and  joined  himself  to  a  citizen  of  that  country;  and  he  sent 
his  fields  to  feed  sWine. 

>.  would  fain  have  filled  his  belly  with  the  husks  that  the  swine  did 
no  man  gave  unto  him. 

hen  he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  How  many  hired  servants  of  my 
lave  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger! 
arise  and  go  to  my  father  and  will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I  have 
jainst  heaven,  and  before  thee, 
n  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  th}'  son :  make  me  as  one  of  th}'  hired 

?.  arose,  and  came  to  his  father.     But  when  he  was  yet  a  great  waj' 

ather  saw  him,  and  had  compassion,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his  neck, 

d  him. 

e  son  said  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  in 

,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son. 

;  father  said  to  his  servants.  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and  put  it  on 

L  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet: 

•ing  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it;  and  let  us  eat,  and  be  merr}'; 

s  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found.  — 

.  3-24. 

lie  fifteenth   chapter  of  St.  Luke  we  have  a  group  of 


FROM   THIRD  PASSOVEE  TO   ENTRY   INTO   JKRUSALEM      1' 

three  parables,  all  centring  in  tlie  theme  of  Goil's  love  for  t 
sinner.  <Jne  recounts  the  story  of  a  lost  sheep,  another  tc 
of  a  lost  piece  of  money,  and  the  third  relates  the  expenent 
of  a  lost  son.  The  emphasis  in  each  case  la  upon  the  f 
that  the  loss  ia  of  great  consequence  to  the  loser,  auil  there 
therefore,  much  rejoicing  over  the  recoier> 

Not  only  has  the  close  couuection  between  the&e  parabl 


liecn  entirely  overlooked  in  art,  but  the  first  two  have  receiv 
only  a  scant  attention  of  any  sort.  Domenico  Feti's  series, 
Dresden,  includes  both  subjects,  and  the  Lost  Money  w 
repeated  by  the  artist  in  another  picture,  now  in  the  Pitti  Gi 
lery,  Florence.  There  is  no  attempt  in  either  to  bring  o 
the  religious  significance  of  the  story. 


^^■nK  I.1KK  OP  nrii  Loiit)  IS  i 

i»A  Sheep  is  among  llic  TuiniadiR'B  )iy  Libmdwl) 
in  the  Siena  Cathedral  LiUrory.     I'lie  sliephercl  t 
th  his  neighbors  in  tlie  foregmund,  while  on  a.  hil' 
ait  a  repentant  dinner  staniiB  clasping  his  hands 
up  to  tieaven.     Tn  th<>  eky  appears  a  choir  of  tlii^ 
earing  musical  instnnuenls. 
K)st  Piece  of  Money  was  li'catetf  in  n  cliarmingly  dec 


,'Je,  by  the  lato  Sir  John  E.  MilJais,  in  a  long,  p 
'icUire  filled  with  the  single   iigare  of  tlie  searcli^ 
a  a.  htoom  in  her  right  hand,  and  in  her  left  a  candl 


FROM    TIIIRrt    rAfiSnVKR    TO    ENTKY    ISTO    .IKUrsALKM 


wliidi  lighls  up  a  sweet  poetic  face,  bending  sliglitly  towa 
tlie  floor. 

Tlie  Protligal  Son,  doubtless  tlie  most  familiar  and  belo' 
of  all  the  ijarables,  ia  correspondingly  j)Oj>ular  in  art. 
illustrate  it  completely  requires  a  aeries  of  scenes.  These 
liave  in  tlie  stained  glass  of  catlietlrai  windows,  as  at  Charti 
lioiirges,  aud  Sens  j  in  quaint  old  plates  by  early  German 
gravers,  as  Haas  Beliam,  and  others ;  and  in  panel  pictures, 


^^MpTHK    LIFK   MK   UUK    UUU)    I.N    AUl 

ya,  in  MadriO,  and  Tiasot's,  exhibited  at  the  ColtiBtllittn 
tioD,  li^OIt.     These  scries  vary  iu  It^n^lh  froni  four  Irj 

m  suhjeclti,  imagination   sometimes  su]))i]yiiig  Tx>Iwcfii 
ea  nil  sorts  of  ejiittMlea.     In  the  lonfjijr  sets,  tiie  storv 
Willi   tlie   PriMlignl's  receiving    his  patrimony    (as    in 
a's),  nnd  ends  witli  tliii  Feast,  or  sometimes  even  with 
Jer  Son's  Exiiostnhition.     These  suhjeets  would  not  bo 
jiblc  hy  tlieniBelves.     Tlie  following  four,  however,  may 
,t*d  either  inUeperidontly  or  in  connection  with  series :  — 
The  Tteparture  of  the  Proiligal. 
The  Riotous  Living  of  the  Prodigal. 
Tiie  Prodigal's  Ue|ientance. 
The  Prodigal's  Rrluni. 

Prodigal'B  Departure  has  the  [ilaco  uf  lionur  in  Franz 

:en  Il.'s    picture  of  the    parahle,  in    the   Louvre.     It 

ts  the  centre,  the  other  subjects,  to  the  number  of  eight 

relegated  to  the   surrounding  compartmenta.      Joseph 

b'a  picture  of  this    subject  shows  a  fine  appreciation. 

ton  centres  hi  tlie  family  group  left  behind,  tlie  fiithcc 

sorrowfully  after  the  rece<ling  figure  nf  his   boy,  the 

fl  mother  wiping  her  eyes,  and  the  daughter  holding  the 

clieek.     The  Protligal's  Riotous  Living,  it  is  mortifying 

id,  lias  exercised  a  morbid  fsEcinatlon  over  some  schools 

In  the  series  at  (Jbartrps  the  subject  is  developed  into 

nea  of  debauchery.    When  reJiiccd  to  a  single  independ- 

tura  it  is  usually  interpreteii  as  a  convivial  scene,  where 

odigul  sits  at  table  with  his  paramours.     In  this  form 

tremely  popular  in  the  Dutch  and  Flemish  art  of 

:teenth  and  aoventeenth  centuries,  treated  with  coarse 

Sometimes  the  later  scenes  of  repentance  and  return 

ler  are  represented  in  the  background  of  euAi  pic- 

n  that  of  Holheiu,  in  the  Liverpool  Museum,  and  in 

Jan  van  Henieaseu,  in  the  Brussels  Museum,     In  others 

nothing  to  redeem  the  utter  vulgarity  of  the    inci- 

in  two  pictures  by  Honthorst,  in  the  Munich  Gallery. 

f  the  setting  is  the  interior  of  an  inn,  but  sometimes  it 

dacape,  or  the  garden  of  an  inn.     Examples  of  the  lat- 

I  by  Hendrik  van  Cleef,  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery, 

,  and  by  Jan  Steen. 

from  whom  we  should  hardly  expect  more  refine- 
mn  from  the  others  of  his  ilk,  has  given  uh  the  most 


FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM      : 

re  H lied  picture  of  this  class  in  his  painting  in  the  Lou^ 
The  Prodigal  is  here  a  charming  young  gentleman,  din 
with  some  pretty  ladies  at  a  wayside  inn.  The  table  is  spr 
alfresco  by  the  river  side,  and  the  feast  proceeds  merrily  wi 
out  any  signs  of  riotous  hilarity.  The  youth  is  attired  a 
cavalier,  having  thrown  down  his  cloak  and  plumed  hat 
a  bench  near  by.  It  is  hard  to  think  evil  of  one  apparently 
innocently  gay.  On  the  farther  bank  of  the  river  is  seen 
later  moment  of  his  repentance  among  the  swine.  Anot 
picture  by  Teniers,  in  the  Munich  Gallery,  is  in  the  sa 
commonplace  vein  as  those  of  his  contemporaries. 

A  celebrated  modern  picture  of  the  Prodigal's  Riotous  I 
ing  is  by  E.  Dubufe,  in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Adolph  Strai 
New  York  city.  The  original  painting,  for  which  this  w£ 
study,  was  exhibited  in  the  Salon  of  1867,  and  was  afterwa 
destroyed  by  fire.  The  subject  occupies  a  large  central  pai 
with  a  narrow  wing  in  f/risaille  at  each  end,  devoted  resj 
tively  to  the  Prodigal's  Repentance  and  the  Prodigal's  Retn 
The  scene  of  the  "  rioting  "  is  a  splendid  Italian  garden,  wh 
graceful  dancing  girls  pose  on  the  marble  pavement  to 
accompaniment  of  music.  A  merry  company  is  assembl 
dressed  in  the  Venetian  costumes  of  Titian's  time.  The  Pr 
igal  stands  under  an  arcaded  portico,  raising  his  glass  high 
the  air,  while  two  women  hang  upon  him. 

It  was  while  feeding  the  swine  of  his  employer  that 
young  man  first  awoke  to  a  realizing  sense  of  his  loneliii 
and  folly.  We  are  not  told  that  he  then  and  there  fell  on 
knees,  but  this  is  the  traditional  art  conception  of  the  Pre 
gal's  Repentance,  and  we  accept  it  as  altogether  natural  } 
appropriate.  As  in  the  preceding  subject,  we  find  most 
the  illustrations  in  northern  art.  Exception  should  be  no 
in  the  picture  by  Sal va tor  Rosa,  in  the  Hermitage  Galh 
St.  Petersburg.  Rubens  and  Jordaens  (Dresden  Gallery)  si 
large  barnyard  scenes  with  several  figures.  In  the  sma 
compositions  the  Prodigal  is  alone,  as  in  the  painting  by  C 
hard  von  KUgelgen,  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 

In  strength  and  simplicity  nothing  could  be  more  impress 
than  the  engraving  of  Albert  Dlirer  (1498).  Others  give 
weak  regret  as  a  substitute  for  penitence,  but  the  great  C 
man  goes  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter.  His  Prodigal  — 
face  is  DUrer's  own — knows  the   agony   of   remorse.     \ 


md  little,  crowd  al)0ut  hira  to  their  trough,  and  the 
realism  uF  it  all  emphasizes  the  vileness  of  sin. 
Prodigal's  Eetum,  at  once  the  most  jKietic  and  dramatic 
it  of  the  parable,  is  likewise  the  oldest  and  most  fre- 
art  Buhject  from  the  narrative,  dating  from  the  minia- 
nd  extendiug  to  our  own  day.  From  the  time  of  the 
I  it  hecame  very  popular  in  Italy.  Feti,  Spada,  and 
,  all  painted  it,  and  Giiercino  several  times.  Two  of  Ida 
«  are  in  the  Uelvedere  Gallery,  Vienna,  and  one  in  the 


FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      2 

Borghese,  Rome.  But  the  subject  was  not  limited  to  a 
school.  By  E,embrandt  there  are  two  pictures, — an  etch: 
(1636)  and  a  painting  in  the  Hermitage  Gallery,  St.  Pete 
burg.  By  Murillo  there  are  two  or  three  pictures,  the  b 
known  being  that  in  the  Sutherland  Gallery,  London. 

The  method  of  treatment  may  be  either  historical  or  typic 
with  an  elaborate  setting,  or  in  a  generalized  form.  Murill 
picture,  in  the  Sutherland  Gallery,  is  the  finest  example  of  1 
former.  In  front  of  a  palatial  residence  a  marble  platfo 
extends  into  the  centre  of  the  composition,  where  the  fatl 
stands  bending  over  tenderly  to  embrace  his  son,  who  kne 
on  a  lower  step.  A  little  white  dog  leaps  up  to  caress  1 
returned  Prodigal.  On  one  side  is  a  group  leading  in  a  a 
on  the  other  some  servatits  advance  with  suitable  clothing  a 
the  gold  ring. 

The  scene  is  even  more  impressive  stripped  of  all  detai 
with  the  father  and  son  locked  in  each  other's  arms.  Usua 
the  Prodigal  is  a  mere  stripling,  naked  and  unkempt,  1 
showing  no  signs  of  suffering  or  want.  The  father  is  ricl 
attired  as  a  nobleman.  The  son's  attitude  is  one  of  de 
humility,  the  father's  of  tenderest  compassion,  and  the  com] 
sition  is  a  perfect  expression  of  the  reciprocal  ideas  of  conf 
sion  and  forgiveness. 

Batoni's  picture,^  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna,  is  an  i 
mirable  example,  and  we  can  find  similar  ones  in  contempors 
art.  The  subject  is  one  frequently  noted  in  art  exhibitio: 
as,  for  instance,  in  the  Royal  Academy  of  1893,  where  th< 
were  two  representations  of  it,  one  of  which,  by  Arthur  Be< 
ingham,  has  been  reproduced  in  photogravure  print.  A  no 
ble  American  work  is  that  of  William  Morris  Hunt,  in  t 
Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts.  The  perfect  abandon  of  i 
Prodigal's  attitude  is  very  touching,  and  the  fine  patriarcl 
face  of  the  father  is  full  of  fervent  religious  feeling. 

The  subject  is  closely  allied  to  that  of  the  Madonna  a 
Child,  and  goes  just  as  directly  to  the  heart  of  life.  The  c 
stands  as  the  universal  type  of  motherhood,  the  other  for  1 
eternal  truth  of  fatherhood. 


■(1  {l.iticrsli;  iln  Verons) 


IXIV.  Thb  Parab] 


:  Unjust  Steward 


n  hi»  lliMlpli!?,  Then 


d  lie  calJcil  him,  and  uid  unto  him,  How  is  it  lti«l  I  hvar  tliif  ol  thee  ? 
ID  MtoHtit  of  Ihy  atawardsbip;  lor  thou  iu«)-ksI  be  iio  longer  <teiv»rd. 
m  llip  Htfiward  B^d  wilhin  liimsetf,  What  ahaJl  I  do  ?  forniy  lurd  takelh 
'from  me  the  fttewRrdahip:  I  lanaut  dig;  tn  heg  1  am  ashaniEd. 
a  mtolvert  what  to  do,  (hat,  when  I  am  put  out  uf  the  atema^Ebip,  the?- 


he  allHd  every  one  of  his  lord's  dehtors 

Pow  much  owest  thou  onto  my  lord  ? 

1  he  aaid,  An  hundred  iiicasiires  of  oil.    And  be  Baid 


nta  the 
n.  Take 
isift,  An 


i  the  lord  commended  the  snjnst  steward,  because  he  had  done  wisely: 
i«  children  of  this  world  are  In  their  generation  wiser  than  the  children 
ht.  —  LUKBKvi,  1-8. 


FROM  THIRD   PASSOVER  TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      201 

The  most  obscure  of  the  parables,  the  story  of  the  Unjus 
Steward,  has  nevertheless  not  been  entirely  overlooked  in  art 
I  find  it  among  the  miniatures  of  Liberale  da  Verona  (Sieni 
Cathedral  Library),  which  are  particularly  rich  in  illustration! 
of  this  class.  The  picture,  tiny  as  it  is,  contains  four  figures 
seen  just  outside  a  sort  of  store-house  filled  with  rows  of  jars 
etc.  The  steward,  standing  in  the  centre,  hands  a  pen  to  one 
of  his  lord's  debtor^s,  who  is  seated  opposite,  with  a  bill  across 
his  knee.     The  others  await  their  turn. 

Another  picture  of  this  subject  is  in  the  Berlin  Gallery 
and  is  by  Andrea  Meldola  (Schiavone),  an  imitator  of  Titian 
From  its  shape  it  appears  to  have  been  one  side  of  a  cassone,  o 
money  chest,  hence  the  appropriateness  of  the  subject.  Tw( 
scenes  are  combined  in  the  composition :  the  householdei 
seated  at  a  table  discharging  the  steward  ;  and  the  steward 
in  a  farther  room  in  conversation  with  two  debtors. 


XV.  The  Parable  of  the  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus 

There  was  a  certain  rich  man,  which  was  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen 
and  fared  sumptuously  every  day: 

And  there  was  a  certain  beggar  named  Lazarus,  which  was  laid  at  his  gate 
full  of  sores, 

And  desiring  to  be  fed  with  the  crumbs  which  fell  from  the  rich  man's  table 
moreover  the  dogs  came  and  licked  his  sores. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  the  beggar  died,  and  was  carried  by  the  angel; 
into  Abraham's  bosom:  the  rich  man  also  died,  and  was  buried; 

And  in  hell  he  lift  up  his  eyes,  being  in  torments,  and  seeth  Abraham  afa 
off,  and  Lazarus  in  his  bosom.  ' 

And  he  cried  and  said,  Father  Abraham,  have  mercy  on  me,  and  sent 
Lazarus,  that  he  may  dip  the  tip  of  his  finger  in  water,  and  cool  my  tongue 
for  I  am  tormented  in  this  fiame. 

But  Abraham  said,  Son,  remember  that  thou  in  thv  lifetime  rcceivedstthi 
good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things :  but  now  he  is  comforted,  anc 
thou  art  tormented. 

And  beside  all  this,  between  us  and  you  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed:  so  tha 
they  which  would  pass  from  hence  to  you  cannot;  neither  can  they  pass  t< 
us,  that  would  come  from  thence. 

Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee  therefore,  father,  that  thou  wouldest  send  him  t( 
mv  father's  house: 

For  I  have  five  brethren ;  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also  comt 
into  this  place  of  torment. 

Abraham  saith  unto  him.  They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets ;  let  them  hea 
them. 

And  he  said:  Nay,  father  Abraham,  but  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the  dead 
they  will  repent. 

And  he  said  unto  him.  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neithc 
will  they  be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead.  —  Luke  xvi.  19-31. 


lit  of  many  apparently  more  attractive  pnrable  subj 
■tory  of  the  lltch  Man  and  I..a7:arus  was  throiigli  a  ccrfaUB 
id  in  the  history  of  Christian  art  qiiil*  fi'cqiiently  repra- 
Bd.  We  know  how  readily  tiie  fancy  of  the  Venetians 
;  captivated  by  any  opportunity  for  lavish  ilisplay,  aud 
jlluBions  to  the  rich  man's  "  sumptuoiin  fare  "  and  "  pnr- 
Uid  fine  linen  "  were  not  lost  upon  them.  Tlio  drnnialic 
Kiement  of  the  parable  lies,  however,  in  the  Beriuol,  and  this, 
be  standards  ni  moderit  Eesthotic  ideals,  is  quite  unsuited  to 
Nevertheless,  it  was  in  just  such  situations  that  a  certain 
of  miud  once  took  great  satisfaction.  In  the  grim  the- 
y  of  mediasvalism,  the  contrasts  of  the  future  life  were 
itantly  held  t>efore  tlie  popular  imagination,  and  such 
bings  influenced  not  only  contemporary  art,  b\it  the  art 
lis  succeeding  centuries.  A  very  quaint  old  miniature 
Bseuting  the  parable  is  in  a  Latin  New  Testament  of  the 
can  Library,  and  dates  from  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  cen- 
.  In  the  background  is  a  table,  at  the  rear  of  which 
■figures  are  seated,  the  one  in  the  centre  being,  presumably, 
rich  man  himself,  wearing  a  turban.  At  one  side  stands 
beggar,  with  two  dogs  at  his  feet.  In  the  foreground  are 
'beds,  lying  end  to  end.  Beside  that  of  Lazarus  is  the 
h  angel  removing  bis  soul  in  the  form  of  a  babe,  while 
Boul  of  the  rich  man  on  the  adjoining  couch  is  seized  by 

he  Feast  of  Dives  was  a  favorite  subject  with  both  Jacopo 
ano  and  Bonifazio  (Veronese).  A  nuraber  of  pictures  at- 
ited  to  these  maatera  are  scattered  through  European  col- 
ons. We  may  take  a  typical  example  from  each. 
y  Jacopo  Bassano,  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna.  At 
right  the  rich  man  sits  at  the  table,  entertained  by  mnsi- 
3,  Pages  and  servants  bring  food  to  the  feast.  In  the 
jround  Lazarus  is  seen,  with  two  hounds  licking  his  sores. 
y  Bonifa/,io,  in  the  Venice  Academy.  The  swtting  is  tlie 
jcd  portico  of  a  palace.  A  nobleman  sits  between  two 
ly  dressed  women  at  the  table  on  the  left.  A  group  of 
icians  is  on  the  pavement  at  the  right,  and  still  farther 
Y  kneels  Lazarus,  holding  up  his  hand  to  beg,  while  a  dog 
i  his  sores.  From  an  artistic  standpoint  the  picture  is  a 
example  of  tlie  Venetian  type  it  represents,  a  simple  and 
ant  composition  diversified  by  many  charming  accessories. 


ar  the  Bdjmriiti!  treiilnietit  of  tlie  latter 
k  tlie  iiotus  collected  by  Mrs 
B:  — 

The  Rich  Mun  U  Been  Wiillowin^  in  fire  and  tlumee,  and 
itnted  by  all  fioiia  of  ^Toteeqiiu  mid  horriUe  deniDiis;  far 
Ii  heaven  abov(>,  he  sees  hamtas  lying  in  Ihe  lap  of  Abra- 
;    Attributed  to  the  younger  I'lilma. 

ilTeiiiers.  The  scene  is  a  rocky  cavern.  Tht-  Eich  Man, 
bed  in  velvet  and  fure,  is  drngged  down  the  road  to  liell 
ron-da  of  demoua,  iniscreftted,  fantflstic,  alraniiiiuble  tilings, 
,  as  Teniers  liked  tu  jiaJnt  [National  (inllery,  Londouj. 
Hans  Schaeufeloin  (about  151U).  Below  and  in  front, 
iiu»  is  seated  at  tlie  gate;  tlie  dogs  as  usual.  Above  him, 
■balcony,  the  Rich  Man  is  seen  feasting  nt  talile,  a  flaunting 
in  at  his  aide.  Far  off  in  the  sky,  on  the  left  hand, 
»U3  is  reposing  in  the  arms  of  Abraham.  On  the  right 
[j  Dives  in  flames  bega  for  a  drop  of  water. 
Souietinies  we  find  the  various  scenes  of  this  a)>olo)^ue 
led  in  a  series  for  the  edification  of  the  peoplpj  ^  for  in- 
ie,  by  that  quaint  old  German,  Ueiiirich  Aldegrever, — 
ve  subjects:  1.  Xhe  Rich  Man  is  feasting  suniptuoualy, 
making  luerry.  2.  Lazarus,  crouching  beffire  a  gnt«,  iui- 
»  food  in  vain.  3.  The  death  of  the  Rich  Man.  The 
ll  seizes  his  treasures.  4.  He  is  dragged  dowu  to  hell  by 
ral  demons,  5.  '  And  being  in  torments,  he  lift  up  his 
,  nud  seeth  Abraham  afar  oQ',  and  Ijazarus  in  his  bosom.' 
There  are  other  insbincea,  by  Geoi'ge  Pencz  and  by  Heems- 
k,  in  three  or  four  different  scenes,  in  which  the  fate  of  the 
I  Rich  Man  is  always  piuminent ;  but  no  one  has  exhibited 

as  praying  in  behalf  of  his  brethren,  that  they  may  be 
OTted,  '  lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment,' 
In  conclusion,  I  will  only  observe  that  when  this  ]iarable  is 
idnced  into  Gothic  sculpture,  it  is  sometimes  placed  eignifi- 
[y  and  conspicuously  on  one  side  of  the  church  door,  where 
rich  enter  and  the  beggars  congregate;  for  instance,  the 
le  story  is  treated  on  one  of  the  muguilicent  windows  at 
|!gea.  In  the  last  and  highest  pane,  Abraham  in  seen  with 
,rus  in  his  lap,  or  rather,  as  if  he  Were  holding  him  in  a 
e  napkin." 

is  interesting  to  notice  that  Tiseot  has  in  mind  some  of 
i  old  representations  in  the  composition  of  the  two  water- 


FROM  THIRD   PASSOVER  TO  ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      207 

colors  in  his  illustrated  "  Life  of  Christ.'^  In  the  first,  we  see 
Lazarus  seated  on  the  pavement  outside  the  rich  man's  door. 
In  the  second,  the  rich  man  is  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  a 
tiny  naked  figure,  standing  in  mid-air,  with  arms  stretched  oul 
to  Father  Abraham,  whose  head  and  bust  appear  above.  The 
patriarch  makes  an  oriental  negative  gesture,  raising  the  hands 
to  the  side  of  the  head. 


XVI.    The  Parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  the 

Publican 

And  he  spake  this  parable  unto  certain  which  trusted  in  themselves  thai 
they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others: 

Two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray;  the  one  a  Pharisee,  and  the 
other  a  publican. 

The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with  himself,  God,  I  thank  thee,  that  1 
am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  pub- 
lican. 

I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I  possess. 

And  the  publican,  standing  afar  oif,  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his  eyes 
unto  heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a 
sinner. 

I  tell  you,  this  man  went  down  to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the  other: 
for  everv  one  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased:  and  he  that  humbletli 
himself  shall  be  exalted.  —  Luke  xviii.  9-14. 

The  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  Publican  is  one  which  has 
generally  escaped  the  notice  of  artists.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  it 
is  found  among  the  subjects  of  the  mosaics  in  S.  ApoUinare 
Nuovo,  Ravenna,  which  furnish  the  sole  early  example  of 
more  than  one  incident  in  the  life  of  Our  Lord.  Two  figures 
in  long  drapery  stand  facing  out,  one  on  each  side  of  the  com- 
position. The  temple  interior  is  suggested  by  a  row  of  foui 
pillars  in  the  rear,  with  a  curtain  caught  up  between  the  twc 
in  the  centre.  The  Pharisee,  at  the  right,  raises  both  arras  in 
the  ancient  attitude  of  prayer,  while  the  publican  inclines  his 
head  and  lays  his  hand  on  his  breast  with  the  gesture  oJ 
humility. 

For  any  other  illustrations  of  the  Pharisee  and  Publican  we 
must  search  illuminated  manuscripts  and  pictorial  ^Bibles. 
There  is  an  interesting  miniature,  by  Liberale  da  Verona,  in 
the  Siena  Cathedral  Library.  The  Pharisee  stands  directly 
before  the  altar  table  in  a  church  of  the  Italian  Renaissance. 
Raising  his  right  hand  in  a  familiar  conversational  gesture,  lu 


i-builiiUiry  ri'iuarks,  iihile  liis  left  liaiid  p 
I  to  tbt?  iiulilieoD  kiieu]tug  behind  liim  od  tbe  floor. 
I  Tissofs  "  Life  uf  Cbri^t ''  ihe  temjile  interior  is  giveu 
accurate  oriuulal  di'tail.  Buth  men  iimke  their  prayers 
Kiig,  the  i'liarisec  in  tlie  forL-yround,  inimocu lately  dressed, 
inipersonatioti  of  pljarisaisni,  and  the  pnblicon  in  the 
leaning  ilejuutt-dly  iigainst  a  pillar,  Willi  une  bund  to  his 
and  tbe  other  upon  liis  breust. 


xvn.  chbist  r.j. 


Little  ('iiiLDiiKV 


tliey  broaglit  yming  rlilMreu  fn  liiiti,  tliat  he  ehnrrld  luiii'li  llie 
dplsa  rebuked  tliuxe  tlint  brnughl.  IJirni. 

Tvhen  Jenva  »ayr  it,  he  whs  much  dis))1eased,  auct  saiil  unto  (litni, 
He  children  tn  cnine  unto  me,  and  furLid  them  nol.:  fur  uf  mrb 
Kn  nf  God. 

j]- 1  My  unto  ynu,  Whoeoerer  shall  not  receire  the  kiiittilam  u[ 
.  child,  he  shxll  [lot  ititei  Iherein. 

he  rnok  Ihem  ui>  in  liia  ormn,  put  iiit  liunds  upun  iht-in,  and 

i-iUAx.ia-10, 


FROM  THIRD   PASSOVER  TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM 

The  true  dignity  of  childhood,  together  with  the  correL 
idea  of  the  dignity  of  motherhood,  is  a  conception  origina 
with  Christianity.  The  Founder  of  the  new  religion,  wl 
own  infancy  had  been  full  of  such  honors  as  no  babe  had  < 
before  received,  paid  the  highest  honor  to  childhood  in  inal 
it  the  symbol  of  faith.  The  little  ones,  whom  a  stern  con^ 
tionalism  would  have  excluded  from  his  presence,  he  gath( 
in  his  arms,  solemnly  declaring  that  of  such  was  the  king( 
of  heaven.  It  was  the  first  formal  declaration  of  childr 
rights  on  record  —  the  children's  Magna  Charta. 

The  new  idea  was  so  long  in  taking  root  that  it  bon 
fruit  in  art  during  the  first  centuries  of  the  Christian  era. 
was  finally  the  more  domestic  temper  of  the  northern  n 
that  first  recognized  the  artistic  possibilities  of  the  subjec 
Christ  blessing  Little  Children.  Strangely  enough,  the  i 
ject  did  not  go  outside  the  borders  of  the  Teutonic  races  u 
the  seventeenth  century,  and  ever  since  then  it  has  still  I 
most  popular  with  them.  This  fact  was  pointed  out  s« 
years  ago  by  Lord  Lindsay,^  and  more  recent  students  in 
history  have  discovered  nothing  to  contradict  the  statement 

The  earliest  examples  occurred  in  the  miniatures  of  illi 
nated  manuscripts,  of  which  the  Gospel  Book  of  Munich 
nishes  a  fine  specimen  in  "  a  group  nobly  and  symmetric 
composed  beneath  aii  arch." 

Of  independent  pictures,  the  oldest  I  know  are  by  the  e 
(Lucas)  Cranach.  One  is  in  the  Northbrook  Collection,  I 
land,  and  another  in  the  Stadtkirche  at  Naumburg,  dj 
1529.  A  copy  of  the  latter  from  the  master's  workshop  i 
the  Dresden  Gallery,  and  is  dated  1538.  Christ  stands  in 
midst  of  the  mothers  pressing  about  him  with  their  child 
I  count  eight  babies  in  their  mothers'  arms.  One  womai 
the  foreground,  seen  in  a  rear  view,  brings,  beside  the  in; 
in  her  arms,  a  little  boy  and  girl,  whom  she  draws  forv 
with  her  right  hand.  At  the  right  is  a  group  of  apostles, 
of  whom,  in  front,  point  to  the  little  girl.  Our  Lord  is 
least  interesting  figure  in  the  composition,  his  action  perfi 

1  Sketches  of  Christian  Art,  vol.  ii.  p.  298. 

2  A  bas-reliof  on  a  sarcophagus  in  the  Borghese  Villa,  Rome,  has  soniet 
been  interpreted  as  referring  to  this  subject,  but  it  is,  more  correctly,  a 
acle  of  healing  by  the  ancient  gesture  of  the  laying  on  of  hands,  the  din 
tive  figures  being  not  children,  but  the  supplicants,  who  are  represented  i 
early  monuments  as  of  child-like  stature,  as  symbolic  of  their  dependence 


RHK    UVf:    'IK    OLK    LUKI'    IN     AKT 
1  tender,  as  he  raises  liis  right  hand  16' 
J  hia  left  ou  a  bahy  near  him.     The  figures  are  ID  half- 


ihe  Munich  Gallery  is  a  picture  attributed  to  one  VinocDK 
^  dated  1538.  The  catalogue  refers  to  it  as  the  only 
kg  work  of  this  otherwise  unkoown  paiuter.  It  ia  de- 
I  thus :  Christ,  in  the  middle,  nraong  the  mothers  and 
ixi,  holds  a  naked  boy  standing  oii  his  lap,  and  turns 
Is  a  second,  who  is  bringing  him  a  pear.  A  mntif  so 
and  natural  shows  a  genuine  insight  on  the  part  of  the 
t  into  the  heart  of  a  child  lover. 

ihe  muReum  at  Brusi^le  is  a  picture  by  a  Flemish  painter 
■seventeenth  century,  Adam  van  Noi>rt.  the  Hrst  uiastet 
Xfs.  The  catalogue  states  that  ho  treated  the  ttulfjoct 
t  times.  In  this  particular  work  Jesus  is  seat«d  at  the 
;  the  entrance  of  a  street,  surrounded  by  his  discijjlBs. 
ih  sides  women  approach,  leading  or  carrying  children, 
tunately  the  catalogue  makes  no  note  of  the  action' of 

the  National  Gallery,  London,  ia  a  picture,  bought  for 
:  of  Reinhrandt,  but  now  attributed  to  some  follower  of 
sat  master.  It  is  a  homely  little  Dutch  scene,  full  of  the 
tenderness  that  touches  the  heart.  Christ,  seated  at 
■ht,  in  profile,  draws  a  little  girl  towards  him,  and  gently 
is  hand  on  her  head.  She  puts  her  finger  in  her  mouth, 
Jly,  and  turns  her  face  away.  Others  press  forward 
tieir  tittle  ones,  —  a  mother  with  her  hahe,  and  a  man  lift- 
S  child  up  over  the  shoulders  of  those  in  front, 
"rcnch  picture  of  the  seventeenth  century  ia  hy  Selwstien 
on,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris.  Christ  is  here  seated  ou  the 
tf  a  building,  with  his  disciples  opposite.  Some  women 
heir  children  forward,  aud  to  these  little  ones  Christ 
as  he  addresses  his  reproving  words  to  his  disciples. 
1  subject  of  Christ  blessing  Little  Children  has  naturally 
mpnlar  within  the  present  century,  so  distinctly  marked 
le  children's  era."  Never  before  has  child-life  been  the 
of  so  much  solicitude;  never  before  has  Our  Lord's  love 
dren  been  so  wiilely  preached. 

a  certain  class  of  the  more  mystical  artists,  the  scene  ia 
ed  in  an  ideal  and  devotional  manner.  Christ  stands  in 
pitre,  raising  his  arms  to  bless  the  children    kneeling 


FROM   THIRD   PASSOVER   TO   ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM 

about  him  with  a  reverent  seriousness  far  beyond  their 
Such  pictures  are  by  Hess  and  Overbeck,  and  there  is  ai 
in  the  same  general  style,  by  C.  G.  Pfannschmidt,  da 
late  as  1870. 

Two  notable  pictures  were  painted  in  England,  by  Bei 
West  and  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  the  leading  sacred  pain 
their  day  and  generation.  Benjamin  West's  picture  is 
composition,  but  without  any  distinctive  features  to  e 
the  character  of  the  incident.  Christ,  seated  in  the  e 
facing  out,  points  heavenward  with  one  hand,  waving  the 
indefinitely  to  the  left  side,  as  he  discourses  with  the  di 
standing  close  beside  him  on  the  right.  The  group  on  t 
is  so  miscellaneously  composed  that  they  might  represe 
listeners  at  any  of  Our  Lord's  sermons.  A  single  child 
among  them,  seated  on  his  mother's  knee,  just  at  the  Sa 
side. 

Sir  Charles  Eastlake' s  painting  is  owned  by  the  corp< 
of  Manchester,  England.  Christ  is  seated  in  the  middl 
rounded  by  a  group  of  lovely  children,  brought  to  him  b 
mothers.  A  beautiful  boy  is  held  in  his  lap,  and  nestle 
Hdingly  against  him.  The  moment  chosen  is  indicate( 
admirable  distinctness.  The  disciples,  at  the  door,  are 
ing  entrance  to  another  group  led  by  an  eager  little  boy, 
Master  turns  towards  them,  with  outstretched  arm,  di 
them  to  let  the  children  enter.  The  painting  was  re 
by  contemporary  critics  (1839)  with  an  enthusiasm  ai 
ing  to  a  perfect  furore.  The  artist  was  freely  likened 
greatest  masters  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  and  no 
was  thought  too  high  for  his  work.  If  the  calmer  juc 
of  later  criticism  has  modified  this  "extravagant  estim 
is  still  true  that  the  picture  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  i 
ever  painted.  The  Christ  is  gentle  and  refined,  his  fa* 
dened  by  the  slowness  of  his  disciples  to  understand  his 
ing. 

Later  pictures,  by  Hofmann,  Thiersch,  and  Plockhoi 
all  pleasing  compositions,  with  pretty  children  gathered 
a  gentle  Christ,  who  holds  them  on  his  knee  or  lays  his 
kindly  on  their  heads.  It  is  a  sign  of  the  times,  perhap 
the  children  take  a  much  more  prominent  place  in  the 
tures  than  in  the  older  works,  only  one  or  two  mothen 
present. 


THE    LIFK    OF    UUK    LUKU    IJM    AKT 

ritz  von  Uhde  is  a  picture,  quite  out  of  the  ortlinary, 
libited  in  1884,  and  now  in  the  Jjeipzig  Museum.  The 
B  the  interior  of  a  schoolroom.  A  Stranger  has  entered 
«d  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  children.  They  cluster 
im,  somewhat  shyly,  but  with  sweet  confidence,  and 
e  creature  lays  a  hand  naively  in  his.  An  older  girl 
to  his  face  with  smiling  trustfulness,  and  it  is  evident 
will  presently  be  won  to  the  gentle  Guest, 
design  for  stained  glass  windows,  the  subject  of  Christ 
Little  Children  is  singularly  appropriate,  uniting  de- 
qualities  with  religious  significance.  At  Brampton, 
I,  there  is  a  window  containing  such  a  composition, 
I  by  Bume-Jones  in  1887. 

ly^ox  Brown  also  made  a  design  for  the  subject,  in 
I,  fanciful  style  which  is  characteristic  of  this  unique 
The  delicate,  sharp-featured  Christ  is  similar  to  Hof- 
type.  He  stands  in  the  centre,  facing  out,  and  bend- 
'  a  little  boy,  whom  he  holds  standing  directly  in  front 
also  facing  out.  Lifting  one  hand  high  in  the  air, 
iter  addresses  a  disciple,  whose  face  alone  can  be  seen 
Ige  of  the  design.  Such  a  picture,  like  tliat  of  Benja- 
st,  does  not  illustrate  Clirivst  blessing  Little  Children, 
ler  Christ  teaching  his  disciples  tlie  lesson  of  child- 


i.Ylll,  Christ  and  the  Rich  Youxij  Man 

ihold,  one  came  and  said  unto  him,  Good  Master,  what  ^ood  thin^ 
that  I  may  have  eternal  life  ? 

said  unto  him,  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ?  there  is  none  pfood  but 
s,  God:  but  if  thou  wilt  enter  into  life,  keep  the  eommandments. 
1  unto  him,  Whieh  ?  Jesus  said,  Thoushalt  do  no  murder,  Thoushalt 
it  adultery.  Thou  shalt  not  steal.  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness, 
thy  father  and  thy  mother:  and.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neij^hbour  as 

ing  man  saith  unto  him,  Ail  these  thinjifs  have  I  ke])t  from  my  youth 
lack  I  yet  ? 

id  unto  him,  If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  ^o  and  sell  that  tlum  hast,  and 
ic  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven:  and  come  and 

• 

Ml  the  youuf^  man  heard  that  sayiui^,  he  went  away  sorrowful :  for 
}at  possessions.  —  Matt.  xix.  10-22. 

jokFs  conversation  with  the  rich  young  man  who  in- 
he  way  to  eternal  life  is  to  be  classed  with  his  other 


FROM    TlilKD    I'ASSOVER   TO    EXTUY    INTO   JEKUSALEM 

diBcoiirBcH  as  seljom  treated  in  art  It  formi  the  suhji  c 
a  sihJjIb  notable  modern  iiainting  by  Hofmaiin  Tbe 
hgtires  are  rendered  in  half  lengtli  again&t  a  luckj^ronnd 
bit  nf  mnannry,  around  the  corner  of  which  are  teen 
hgurea  tepreeeiiting  the  poor  to  whom  Christ  directs  the 
quircra  attention  The  Saviour  is  perhaps  the  best  of 
artiat  a  acvenil  Christ  Kkals,  and  the  mature  counterpart  of 
hoy  Christ  in  the  temple  His  face,  seen  in  a  three  rjuat 
Tiew,  13  turned  searclimgly  upon  that  of  the  young  D 
whoso  held  drooji-,  suiioHfulh    la  coiillictin^  iiii|)iil  es   sfi 


(He  f  man  II I 


tiiresqne  costume,  he  is  i  romintic  figure,  idmiribh  coiitn 
with  the  aovere  simplicity  of  the  central  hgure 

For  other  evimples,  we  must  turn  to  the  illustrated  Itih 
Bidas  ptchiiig  sLema  to  reftr  to  the  commentary  of  Ji 
nientiimed  only  by  St  Luke,  '  How  hardly  shall  thej  1 
hine  ndii  Lntir  into  the  kingdom  of  God  "  The  ridi  joi 
min  stands  (it  Ihp  kft,  looking  oft  with  an  almost  sulk) 
prebsiun,  wliiU    Christ,  at  the  nght,  with  a.  group  of  tL 


Biiiotis,  [wiiitfi  toward  him  as  be  turns  Ut  tliem  ivitli  1»!^ 

ing. 

»ot's  wateMwlor  gives  much    more    prominence    to  the 

J  man  than  to  the  Saviour.     Thra   latter  stands  in   the 

ttoumi,  aurroundeil  by  a  company  of  listenere,  while  the 

(foung  niler  walks  down   the  road  out  of  the   picture, 

ulating  as  if  in  argimient  with  himself. 


be  kJiijrfniii  of  heaven  Is  like  uiitci  ii  man  llinl  is  nil  hiiusohiiMer,  whicl 

Bt  early  in  ihe  nmrning  tn  hire  Uhoiirprw  inli.  his  vineyard. 

*hen  hv  had  agreeil  wilh  the  Inhi.urerB  fors  pennya  day,  he  sent  Iheii 

jTHwyard. 

■MBi^oiit  shout  tliu  thini  hour,  anil  sBtv  others  standing  idle  ii 

iboottha  eleve 


ilnii  inlo  the  vineyard,  and  whatsoever  is  right 

sixth  uid  niiilh  hour,  and  did  likewise. 
iMt  tte  eleventb  hour  ho  went  om,  aad  found  others  standing  idle, 
H.  unto  them,  Why  stand  ye  here  all  the  day  idle  ? 

■  my  nntii  him,  Because  no  man  hath  hired  us.     He  aaith  unto  Ihem,   ■ 
llso  into  the  viiieyanl;  and  whatfloever  is  rijtht,  that  shall  ye  receive, 
hen  even  was  cnnie,  the  Idi^!  id  Ihe  vineyard  saith  unto  hla  steward, 
«  labourers,  and  give  them  (heir  hire,  beginninf'  from  the  last  unlo  the 

when  Ihey  came  that  were  hired  about  the  eleventh  hour,  they  reeeived 

fhen  the  firat  came,  (hey  sui>po»ed  that  Ihey  ahon Id  have  received  more; 

ly  likfiwisB  reci'ived  every  man  a  penny. 

when  Ihoy  had  received  it,  they  murmured  against  the  good  man  of 

taa, 

»g,  These  last  have  wrought  but  one  hour,  and  thou  hast  made  (honi 

ntn  us,  which  have  Imrne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day. 

he  answered  one  of  them,  and  naid,  Friend,  1  do  thee  no  wrong;  didet 

that  thine  is,  and  go  thy  way:  I  will  give  unto  this  last,  even  as  unto 

not  lawful  for  me  to  do  what  I  will  with  mine  own  7    Is  thine  eye  «vil, 

1 1  am  Rwid  V 

le  last  shall  he  drst,  and  the  first  lB!;t:  for  manv  he  called,  hut  few 


the  Parable  of  the  Laborers  m  the  Vineyard  is  genemlly 
eted  somewhat  difticult  of  interpretation,  it  is  a  matter 
prise  that  wa  find  sevpral  dlustrationa  of  it  in  the  history 


FROM  THIRD   PASSOVER  TO  ENTRY   INTO   JERUSALEM      2 

The  first  examples  are  in  illuminated  manusctiptB.  1 
subject  ia  in  tlie  Gospel  Book  of  Gotha,  and  in  tlie  set 
miniatures  by  Liberale  da  Vevona,  in  the  Siena  Cathed 
Library.  The  latter  may  be  considered  a  typical  compositi 
of  the  earlier  sort.  The  householder  is  paying  the  labor 
at  night  in  the  vineyard.    He  puts  a  coin  into  the  outsttetcli 


•rem  in  the  Vineyani  (Liberate  da  Verona) 


hand  of  the  leader,  while  two  in  the  background  discuss  t 
sitnation,  and  another  comes  up  in  the  rear.  The  gentle  f; 
of  the  master  and  his  gesture  of  explanation  surest  that  t 
jiainter  typifies  in  the  figure  Out  Lord  himself. 

We  find  the  subject  again  in  the  series  of  parables  by  I 
menico  Peti,  in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  and  in  the  Pitti  Galle 
Florence, 

By  Andrea  del  Sarto,  the  story  was  told  in  two  panels,  pn 


origin.illy  ilosigneii  for  tlic  oriiamcntiition  of  some 
miture.      In  the  firHt  Hccne,  the  Lord  of  the  Viiieyard  i* 
g  laborers,  in  the  soconil  he  is  paying  them.     The  pic- 

gt  Faiishanger,  Herts,  England. 
BOnel,  intended  as  a  furniture  decoration,  is  by 
Hbla  (Schiavone),  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  It  ig 
H^  pietute  to  the  I'arable  of  Ihe  Unjust  Steward 
nred  to.  The  houueliolder,  at  ttio  ciglit,  speaks  to 
rs,  while  at  the  left  a  group  of  men  are  at  a  table. 
IB  Laborare  in  the  Vineyard  in  the  aubjuet  of  a  splendid 
ing  by  Uembrandt,  in  the  Ilerniitnge  Gallery,  St.  Petcns- 
(1637).  We  are  introduced  into  the  interior  of  a  great 
lial  hall,  in  which  a  round  table  stands  in  a  uomer  at  the 
ight«d  by  a  window.  Here  sit  both  the  lord  of  the  vine- 
and  his  steward,  receiving  the  laborers  at  the  cloiie  of  the 
I  work.  The  steward  is  engaged  with  the  ledger,  while 
master  himself  talks  to  two  workmen,  who  are  arguing 
iteniugly.  He  is  richly  dressed  and  wears  the  high  cap 
ften  seen  ou  the  dignitaries  of  Iteuibraudt's  pictures, 
face  is  kind  and  benignant  as  beiits  the  ultaracterizatiou 
e  parable. 


JulIN 

QR  Mm,  anil  doiiiiij;  a  certain  (hiii^  of  him. 

.  ho  aaid  uiitn  har,  What  wilt  thou  ?     She  ssith  nnhi  him,  (Jriint  Ihat 

my  tvrn  wm»  inav  Hit,  the  one  on  th^  right  Emnil,  and  llie  otiior  on  the 

I  thr  fcingdimi.  ' 

Jeaus  Hnijwureri  und  wid,  Yv  know  nut  what  yr  n«k.    Are  yo  Mn  to 

of  (he  iTup  that  I  shall  drink  ol,  and  to  h«  bn[>ti2cd  with  tli«  bapdnm 

am  baptized  with  7    They  wiy  iintn  hidi,  Wb  are  »bl«. 

,  Iw  Bailh  unto  them,  Ye  ahnll  drink  indeed  of  liiy  cup,  and  lie  baptiiwd 

ba  tuptism  that  T  am  liaptized  "with ;  i)nt  ]r>  Eiit  on  my  ri^Eit  hand,  and 

'  left,  is  nut  mine  tu  fcive,  but  it  shull  bo  given  to  them  for  whom  it  is 

«d  of  my  Father.— SLl IT.  xx.  SO-Sa. 

le  strange  reqnest  with  which  the  mother  of  James  and 
approached  Our  Lord  is  not  naturally  asBouial«d  in 
[ht  with  art.  There  is.  however,  oiie  painting  of  the 
ct  so  interesting  that  it  is  well  worth  a  place  in  a  set  of 
res  illustrative  of  Christ's  life.  This  is  b^'  Bonifaaio 
mese),  in    the  Borgheae    Gallery,  Rome,     Our  Lord  is 


id  Qii  a  throne  in  the  centre,  siipporlmg  an  open  book  om 
kne«,  and  turning  to  liutmi  to  the  woman,  who  kneels  Id 
t  of  him.  Slie  has  the  etiong,  proud  fare  uf  tin  ambitious 
lan,  as  she  pleads  her  cause.  Beliiiid  hor  stand  the  two 
,  looking  dowc  almost  deprecatingly,  as  il  reluctant  to 
!  the  favor  asked.  At  the  other  side  is  a  group  of  disciplea 
irig  on.  The  color  of  the  picture  i»  still  fine,  and  the 
I  is  an  ititereatiug  Bpeciiuen  of  the  Venetian  spirit. 

KI.    Cueist  IIealixu  tiif:  Hi.tsu  Men  ov  Jkkicho 

d  us  tiKy  ileijaritd  fruui  Jeritliu,  a  gii-al  iinillituaii  ri,lliiiv«il  l.im. 

d,  liehuld,  two  lilintl  laen  aittiag  by  tlie  May  side,  wlien  thay  heard  tliat 

I  passed  by,  cried  oul,  saying,  Huva  merEy  un  as,  O  Lord,  tliiiu  son  of 


6  JeauB  stood  slill,  and  calJud  them,  mid  Mid,  Wlmt  Will  ye  Iliul  I  sludl 

ey  sajuiitu  him,  Lurd,  that  uur  eras  may  be  npi^lied. 

Jesus  liad  L*uiu|ia!wiun  im  them,  aud  tuut'hvd  Iheireyus:  and  immediattly 

eye»  niivlyeil  siglil,  and  tliey  Colluwed  him.  —  Matt.  xx.  SU-IM. 

he  nitracle  of  restoring  sight  to  the  blind  men  of  Jericho 
lated  with  slight  variations  in  the  three  Synoptic  Qospela. 
Hatthew  specifies  two  men,  but  tlie  other  Evaugelisle  were 
fly  interested  in  the  one  called  Uartiniieus.  The  healing 
tartimceus  is  the  basis  of  Lucas  van  Leyden's  picture  in 
Hermitage  Gallery,  St.  Petersburg.     The  setting  is  a  land- 

e,  with  a  river  in  the  liackground.  Though  filled  with 
y  figures,  the  unity  is  admirably  maintained,  every  one 
g  occupied  with  the  miracle.  Christ  is  scon  in  profile, 
ling  slightly  towards  the  luaii,  who  leans  on  tlie  sliouliler 
boy,  wliile  he  points  with  the  free  hand  to  his  eyes. 

y  Pouaain,  the  narrative  of  St.  Matthew  is  followed  in  the 
ting  of  the  Louvre,  Paris.  We  have  here  a  fuie  obarao- 
tic  landscape,  with  mountainous  background.  Li  front, 
1  the  left,  the  two  men  approach  and  kiieel  in  line  oppo- 
Christ,  who  stands  at  the  right  accompanied  by  a  group  of 
a  disciples.     The  blind  men  stretch  out  their  arms  grop- 

f,  and  Our  Lord  bends  forward  to  place  his  hand  on  the 
of  the  one  kneeling  in  front. 

com  illustrated  Bibles,  wo  may  spk-ct  the  pictures  of  Bida 
'Xissot  for  special  mention. 


VIII.   THE  PASSION 

I.  Introduction:  Serial  Art  Treatment  of  the  Passk 

The  term  Passion  is  used  somewhat  loosely  to  cover  a  shorl 
or  longer  period  in  the  closing  days  of  Our  Lord's  earthly  li: 
In  a  strictly  correct  sense,  it  refers  to  the  sufferings  of  the  h 
fifteen  hours,  from  the  agony  in  the  garden  through  his  dea 
upon  the  cross.  In  a  wider  application,  as  used  to  describe  ; 
art  series,  it  covers  the  time  from  the  Entry  into  Jerusale 
through  the  Resurrection.  It  is  used  still  more  flexibly 
include  the  several  appearances  of  Christ  after  the  Resurrc 
tion,  the  Ascension,  and  the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

No  scenes  of  Our  Lord's  actual  sufferings  appear  in  ear 
art.  To  explain  their  absence  various  conjectures  are  mad 
the  traditions  of  classic  art  excluding  any  subject  antagonisi 
to  repose,  the  fear  of  making  the  new  religion  repellent 
converts,  the  spirit  of  reverence  in  the  presence  of  sacred  m^ 
teries.  Whatever  the  real  reason  may  be,  the  fact  remai 
tbat  the  Crucifixion  as  well  as  the  incidents  immediately  pi 
ceding  and  following  it  are  unknown  subjects  in  the  frescc 
of  the  catacombs  and  the  bas-relief  ornaments  of  sarcophagi.^ 

The  nearest  approach  to  these  incidents  is  in  the  subjects 
Christ  before  Pilate  and  the  Denial  of  Peter,  both  of  whi 
are  seen  on  the  sarcophagi.     These  representations  did  duty  f 
the  entire  narrative  of  the  Passion,  suggesting  all  that  follov 

This  method  of  indirect  suggestion  is  also  noticed  in  t 
mosaics  of  S.  Apollinare  Nuovo,  Ravenna,  belonging  to  t 
sixth  century.  Although  illustrating  Christ's  life  with  i 
markable  fullness,  the  incidents  selected  from  the  last  we 
suggest,  but  do  not  literally  portray,  the  final  tragedy.  We  s 
him  led  away  captive,  but  we  do  not  witness  the  indigniti 
laid  upon  him ;  we  behold  him  led  to  Calvary,  but  at  t 
horrors  enacted  there  we  are  not  permitted  to  look. 

1  As  there  are  exceptions  to  every  rule,  we  may  find  even  in  the  fifth  a 
sixth  centuries,  outside  the  cataccnubs,  sarcophagi,  and  mosaics,  some  rj 
examples  of  the  Crucifixion,  which  will  be  mentioned  under  that  subject. 


I  the  latter  part  of  the  seventh  century,  the  Council  of 
.tautinople  (092)  issued  a  decree  which  brought  Passion 
iito  existence.  It  was  decided  not  only  that  historical 
isentations  of  Christ  were  preferable  to  the  symbolic,  but 

Christ  should  lie  portrayed  as  ^'  he  who  bore  the  sins  of 
i^orld."    The  decree  revolutionized  existing  standards  of  pro- 
y,  and  in  the  centuries  following  no  subject  was  held  too 
ful  or  too  sacred  for  pictorial  representation.     The  Cruci- 
n  became  the  culminating  point  of  artistic  interest,  and 
Gospel  narrative  was  searched  for  every  detail  of  the  at- 
mt  circumstances.    Imagination  supplied  between  the  lines 
^  {)oints  not  mentioned  by  the  Evangelists :  some  entirely 
imate  inferences,  as  the  Nailing  to  the  Cross,  the  Descent 
the  Cross ;  others  purely  fictitious,  as  Christ  bidding  fare- 
to  his  Mother,  Christ  falling  l^eneath  the  Cross,  the  iiici- 
of  St.  Veronica,  etc. 

8  we  have  previously  seen  (p.  14),  every  important  serial 
ment  of  the  life  of  Christ  devoted  more  than  half  its  space 
ie  Passion  cycle.  In  addition,  many  series  were  devoted 
isively  to  these  subjects.  We  will  notice  a  few  of  these 
s  briefly. 

II  the  south  and  west  ribs  of  the  central  dome  of  San 
JO,  Venice,  is  a  set  of  mosaics  assigned  to  tlie  twelfth  cen- 
,  and  representing  the  following  subjects :  1.  Christ  be- 
id  by  Judas.  2.  Ecce  Homo.  3.  Tlie  Crucifixion.  4. 
;ent  into  Limlms.     5.  Christ  appearing  to  the  holy  women 

his  resurrection.  (J.  The  risen  Christ  among  his  dis- 
s,  with  Thomas  examining  his  wounds, 
he  figures  in  all  these  compositions  are  strangely  elongated 
enveloped  in  heavy  draperies.  The  head  of  Christ  is  sur- 
ded  by  a  large  cruciform  nimbus,  and  in  some  instances  is 
Irably  conceived.  The  names  of  the  principal  personages 
nscribed  a])0ve  their  figures  ;  others  carry  scrolls  on  which 
•  words  are  written,  and  above  each  composition  runs  a 
n  legend  identifying  the  subject. 

he  fourteenth  century  yielded  two  notable  Passion  series 
I  the  Sien(\se  school.  The  first  was  by  Duccio  di  Buqn- 
5'na,  on  the  reverse*  side  of  his  great  altar-piece  of  the 
onna,  painted  i:K)8-i;n(),  for  the  Siena  Cathedral.  The 
ire  was  afterwards  sawn  asunder  transversely,  and  the  side 
aining  the  Passion  series  is  now  in  the  Opera  del  Duomo. 


THE   PASSION  221 

The  work  bears  the  same  relation  to  the  Sienese  school  that 
Giotto's  series  at  Padua  bears  to  the  Florentine,  —  it  was  the 
original  foundation  upon  Avhich  many  successors  were  to  build. 
The  characteristics  of  Duccio  as  a  supreme  illustrator  have 
been  carefully  analyzed  in  a  recent  book  (1897)  on  the  "  Cen- 
tral Italian  Painters  of  the  Renaissance/'  by  Bernhard  Beren- 
son.  "  Expression  and  interpretation,  grandeur  of  conception, 
and  depth  of  feeling,  Duccio  possessed,"  he  says,  "  to  the 
utmost,"  and  goes  on  to  show  that  the  Sienese  painter  had  also 
rare  gifts  of  grouping  and  arrangement.  Of  those  qualities  in 
which  he  was  deficient,  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak  now,  since 
it  is  as  an  interpreter  of  the  Gospel  narrative  that  he  is  here 
considered.  His  compositions  all  adhere  strictly  to  the  Byzan- 
tine traditions,  and  the  glories  are  of  embossed  gold. 

The  Passion  series  includes  the  following  twenty-six  sub- 
jects :  1.  Entry  into  Jerusalem.  2.  Last  Supper.  3.  Christ 
washing  the  Disciples'  Feet.  4.  Christ's  Last  Address  to  his 
Disciples.  5.  Judas  bargaining  with  High-Priest.  6.  Agony 
in  the  Garden.  7.  Christ  taken  Captive.  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.  14.  Christ  before  Herod.  15. 
Christ  again  before  Pilate.  16.  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns. 
17.  Flagellation.  18.  Pilate  washing  his  Hands.  19.  Christ 
led  to  Calvary.  20.  Crucifixion.  21.  Descent  from  the  Cross. 
22.  Entombment.  23.  Descent  into  Limbus.  24.  Women 
at  the  Tomb.     25.  Noli  me  Tangere.     26.  Walk  to  Emmaus. 

In  the  transept  of  the  lower  Church  of  S.  Francesco,  Assisi, 
occupying  the  sides,  the  vaulting,  and  the  end,  is  a  Passion 
series  formerly  attributed  to  Cavallini,  but  now  assigned  by 
critics  to  the  fourteenth  century  Sienese  painter,  Pietro  Loren- 
zetti.  The  frescoes  are  in  a  very  damaged  condition,  but  the 
figures  are  described  by  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle  as  "  vehement 
in  action,  often  vulgar  in  shape  and  face,  frequently  conven- 
tional, and  in  some  cases  downright  ugly."  They  add  that, 
nevertheless,  "  the  work  shows  extraordinary  power  in  the 
rendering  of  movement  and  expression."  The  following  sub- 
jects are  treated :  1.  Entry  into  Jerusalem.  2.  Last  Supper. 
3.  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet.  4.  Christ  taken  Cap- 
tive. 5.  Flagellation.  6.  Journey  to  Calvary.  7.  Cruci- 
fixion. S.  Entombment.  9.  Resurrection.  10.  Descent  into 
Limbus. 


n  1404,  ail  early  Ferrarese  painter,  Giilasao  Galassi,  painted 
iseioii  sericB  on  tlic  walls  of  S.  Maria  di  Mc/mrata,  near 
igna.  The  remaitie  of  tliese  frtscotis,  which  ^till  exiist,  are 
ttle  interest  and  very  crude. 

a  tlie  early  aixteeath  century,  n  aetha  of  paintings  ilhis- 
ng  the  Passion  was  executed  by  Paolo  Morando  (.or  Cavaa- 
),  and  these,  five  in  number,  ar«i  now  in  the  \'(.-rona  Gallery. 
Be  works  show  the  "  Veronese  Kaphael "  to  the  best  ad- 
jigc,  a<lmirahle  in  drawing,  composition  and  color,  and  full 
utenae  dramatic  earnestness.  The  subjects  are:  1,  The 
ny  in  the  tlarden.  2.  The  Flagellation.  3,  Christ  crowned 
1  Thorns.     4.  Christ  bearing  tha  Cross.     5.  The  Depoai- 

hese  pictures  are  perhaps  the  latest  examples  in  It^iiaii  art 
ny  connected  sequence  of  subjects  exclusively  devoted  to 
Passion. 

1  the  sixteenth  century  there  was  a  natural  reaction  i^inst 
onging  BO  painfully  these  scenes  of  suffering,  and  such 
il  treatments  were  abandoned.  But  the  separate  subjects 
le  Faasion  were  by  no  racaiis  diecontiuued ;  their  relation 
iligion  and  ait  was  vital.  In  a  period  when  the  events  of 
ist'a  life  began  to  be  replaced  by  :m  inci'casing  multitude 
lewly  developed  subjects,  the  se\'eral  incidents  of  his  last 
i  still  held  their  own  in  the  field  of  art.      The  centuries 

tested  them  and  found  them  ca]iable  of  uniting  devotional 

artistic  qualities,  of  appealing  to  uni\'ersal  religious  senti- 
t,  and  at  the  same  time  meeting  certain  {esthetic  require- 
ts.  It  only  remained  for  the  great  masters  to  interpret 
1,  not  in  such  prolonged  series  as  were  produced  by  an 
er  and  perhaps  more  morbid  religious  fervor,  but  in  single 
pendent   pictures,  each  setting  forth  some  one  phase  of 

ficing  love.  Thus,  we  have  from  Leonardo  da  Vinci  the 
.  Supper ;  from  Luini,  the  Crucifixion ;  from  Ba])hael,  Christ 
ing  the  Cross,  and  the  Entombment ;  from  Titian,  two  pic- 
s  each  of  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns,  the  Ecce  Homo, 

Christ  bearing  the  Cross,  also  the  great  Entombment; 
I  Tintoretto,  the  Cnioilixion ;  from  Correggio,  the  Agony 
le  Garden,  and  the  Ecce  Homo. 

labile  the  Passion,  as  a  subject  of  art  series,  was  declining 
topularity  in  the  south,  it  was  at  its  zenith  in  northern 
ols.     Here  an  intense  religious  zeal  sought  as  the  first 


THE   PASSION 

consideration   to   emphasize   the    horror  and  cruelty   of 
Lord's  sufferings.     The  style  was  therefore  an  almost  bi 
realism,  shocking   and    repellent  to  a   sensitive   imagina: 
Sceiies  which  in  Italian  art  arouse  reverence  and  pity,  pro 
here  only  a  shuddering  horror.     Often  they  degenerate 
the  positively  grotesque. 

In  the  museum  at  Colmar  is  a  Passion  series  in  six 
pieces,  beginning  with  the  Last  Supper,  and  including 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  It  is  probably  the  work  of 
ous  German  painters  of  different  artistic  skill,  and  two  sub 
are  by  Martin  Schongauer,  —  the  Descent  from  the  Cross, 
the  Entombment. 

By  Memling,  in  the  gallery  at  Turin,  is  a  picture  repref 
ing  the  Passion,  from  the  Entry  into  Jerusalem  through 
Supper  at  Emmaus. 

The  two  Holbeins  made  a  considerable  contribution  to 
German  Passion  art.  By  the  elder  there  is  a  series  of  sc 
in  one  frame  in  the  Augsburg  Gallery,  a  large  composite  a 
piece  (1501)  in  the  Stadel  Institute,  Frankfort,  contair 
among  other  subjects,  seven  Passion  scenes  ;  and  in  the  Mu 
Gallery,  some  parts  of  the  original  Keisheim  altar-piece  (1; 
depicting  the  following  subjects :  1.  Christ  taken  Cap 
2.  Christ  before  Pilate.  3.  Flagellation.  4.  Christ  crov 
with  Thorns.      5.  Ecce  Homo.      6.  Journey  to  Calvary. 

By  Hans  Holbein,  the  younger,  there  is  a  Passion  pain 
in  the  Basle  Gallery,  consisting  of  eight  compartments, 
color  is  fine,  and  some  of  the  compartments  are  admirably  < 
posed,  while  others  are  decidedly  crude.     The  same  ga] 
contains  a  set  of  ten  pen  and  ink  drawings,  intended  as  des 
for  glass  painting.      The  style  is  therefore   extremely  d 
rative,  each  composition  being  framed  in  a  rich  architec 
setting  of  handsome  columns  ornamented  with  garlands. 
British  Museum  also  contains  seven  interesting  Passion 
toons  by  the  same  artist. 

By  Lucas  van  Leyden  there  are  two  sets  of  prints,  inc 
ing  nine  and  fourteen  subjects,  respectively.  In  the  she 
series,  known  as  the  Round  Passion,  from  the  circular  i 
of  the  compositions,  are  comprised :  1.  Agony  in  the  Gar 
2.  Christ  taken  Captive.  3..  Christ  before  the  High-P 
(Annas).  4.  Christ  Mocked.  5.  Flagellation.  6.  CI 
crowned  with  Thorns.     7.  Ecce  Homo.     8.  Journey  to 


9.  Crucifixion.  The  other  eat  is  compoeed  u  ftdlows : 
it  Supper.  2.  ^ouy  in  the  Garden.  3.  Ghriat  taken 
e.  4.  Christ  before  the  High-Priest.  6.  Christ  Mocked, 
gellation.  7.  Christ  crowned  with  Xhonu.  8.  Bcce 
9.  Journey  to  C<dvary,  10.  Crucifixion.  11.  De- 
from  the  Cross.  13.  Entombment.  13.  Descent  into 
a.     14.  Besurrection. 

as  van  Leyden's  work  is,  on  tho  ivholi;,  lU'eiiledly  less 
I  to  contemplate  than  that  of  the  uverago  Geriiian  l'as> 
iries.  The  Christ  is  usually  sweetly  putient  and  placid, 
it  exhibiting  any  pitiable  contortiotix  at  sufferiug,  The 
aitions  contain  no  very  violent  action,  and  no  shocking 
ty.  One  curious  feature  in  tht  Itoiind  Pasaion  is  the 
at  introduction  of  a  child  as  a  fi;ii:ct!itoi',  looking  on  in 
nt  wonder  at  the  strange  scene. 

tin  Schonganer's  twelve  Passion  |ikles  inolude  some 
.ble  compositions,  but  in  the  sceni'ii  uf  violent  action  the 
falls  into  the  characteristic  GeimLin  lixnggetation.  The 
's  of  Christ  are  almost  ludicroudly  grotesque  in  appear- 
ed are  foolishly  malicious  in  their  treatment  of  the 
r.  One  motif,  repeated  several  tiines,  is  that  of  grasping 
arisoiier  by  the  hair.  Tlie  list  of  subjects  is  as  fol- 
1.  Agony  in  the  Garden.  2.  Christ  led  away  Captive, 
ist  before  Caiaphas.  4.  Flagellation.  5.  Christ  crowned 
riioms.  G.  Christ  before  Pilate.  7.  Ecce  Homo, 
■ist  bearing  the  Cross.  9.  Crucifixion.  10.  Entomb- 
11.  Descent  into  Limbus.     12.   Resurrection. 

have  last  to  consider  the  work  of  Albert  Dlirer,  as 
ng  up  all  that  is  characteristic  in  German  art.  Capable 
ag  to  a  delicacy  of  sentiment  like  Lucas  van  Leyden's, 

often  into  an  exaggeration  as  grotesque  as  Holbein's,  he 
lost  often  a  middle  course.  !Never  altogether  free  from 
n  peculiar  mannerism,  liis  most  striking  characteristics 
vigorous  niasculiiitty  of  character  delineation,  a  strong 
.ic  sense,  and  a  profound  religious  conviction.     In  these 

perfect  exponent  of  his  times  and  of  his  race. 

Passion  was  a  siibject  to  which  be  devoted  long  and  ear- 
udy.  We  have  first  of  all  a  set  of  drawings,  known  as  the 
Passion,  from  the  color  of  tlie  paper  used,  and  now  pre- 

in  the  Albertin a  Collection  at  Vienna,  Dlirer  also  began 
>f  engiavings  on  copper,  which  were  never  finished,  and 


THE  PASSION 

are  of  less  interest  than  his  other  sets.  The  highest  ini 
centres  in  his  two  series  of  wood-cuts,  known  as  the  Greater 
sion  and  the  Little  Passion,  the  adjectives  referring  to  tl 
spective  sizes  of  the  hlocks,  15  x  10|  inches,  and  5x  3|in 

The  Greater  Passion  consists  of  the  following  twelve 
jects :  1.  Title-page:  Christ  the  Man  of  Sorrows.  2. 
Supper.  3.  Agony  in  the  Garden.  4.  Christ  taken  Caj: 
5.  Flagellation.  6.  Ecce  Homo.  7.  Christ  bearing  the  C 
8.  Crucifixion.  9.  Deposition.  10.  Entombment.  11. 
scent  into  Limbus.     12.   Resurrection. 

The  Little  Passion  is  a  more  comprehensive  Christian  c 
including  the  Fall,  the  Incarnation,  and  extending  througl 
Last  Judgment.  There  are  thirty-seven  subjects,  as  foil 
1.  Title-page  :  Christ  the  Man  of  Sorrows.  2.  Adam  and 
eating  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge.  3.  Expulsion  from  " 
disc.  4.  Annunciation.  5.  Nativity.  6.  Entry  into  « 
salem.  7.  Cleansing  the  Temple.  8.  Christ  parting  fror 
Mother.  9.  Last  Supper.  10.  Christ  washing  the  Disci 
Feet.  11.  Agony  in  the  Garden.  12.  Betrayal.  13.  C 
before  Annas.  14.  Christ  before  Caiaphas.  15.  C 
Mocked.  16.  Christ  before  Pilate.  17.  Christ  before  H 
18.  Flagellation.  19.  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns.  20. 
Homo.  21.  Pilate  washing  his  Hands.  22.  Christ  be; 
the  Cross.  23.  St.  Veronica.  24.  Christ  nailed  to  the  C 
25.  Crucifixion.  26.  Descent  into  Limbus.  27.  Dei 
from  the  Cross.  28.  Preparation  for  Burial.  29. 
tombment.  30.  Resurrection.  31.  Christ  appearing  tc 
Mother.  32.  Christ  Appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene  in 
Garden.  33.  Supper  at  Emmaus.  34.  Unbelief  of  The 
35.  Ascension.     36.  Day  of  Pentecost.     37.  Last  Judgr 

The  Christ  in  all  these  compositions  is  distinctly  an  idei 
tion  of  Dlirer  himself,  with  a  long,  oval  face,  finely  cut  feat 
long  abundant  curls,  and  a  large  halo.  The  type  is  strik 
contrasted  Avith  the  disciples  who  surround  him,  with  r 
faces,  plebeian  features,  and  grizzled  beards.  With  pa 
resignation  lie  moves  through  all  the  scenes  of  turmoil 
confusion,  calm  while  others  are  agitated,  resigned  Avhen  o 
lament.  His  enemies  are  frightful  brutes,  haling  him  viol 
from  one  scene  of  cruelty  to  another,  till  the  imagin 
revolts  at  such  outrages. 

We  cannot  dismiss  the  subject  of  the  Passion  in  Ge 


THE    LIFE    OF    OUR    LORD    TN    ART 

it  mentioning  the  beautiful  ciborium,  which  was 
h  scenes  from  the  Passion,  by  Adam  Kraflft,  for  the 

San  Loronz,  Nuremberg.  In  this  structure,  which 
ur  feet  in  height,  the  Passion  subjects  are  represented 
ve  stories,  and  the  designs  are  interlinked  with  gar-  , 

ornamental  borders,  with  figures  of  saints  and  angels 
berspaces.     The  subjects,  beginning  from  below  and 

include  Christ   parting  from  his  Mother;  the  Last 
be  Agony  in   the  (iarden ;  Christ  before  Caiaphas ; 
with  Thorns  ;   the  Scourging ;   the  Crucifixion  ;  the 
on. 

II.  The  Entry  into  Jerusalem 

they  (Inrw  ni^h  unto  .Jerusalem  and  were  come  to  Bethphage, 
mt  of  Olives,  then  sent  Jesus  two  disciples, 

to  them,  (lo  into  the  village  over  against  you,  and  straightway 
I  an  ass  tied,  and  a  colt  with  her:  loose  them,  and  bring  them 

y  man  say  ought  unto  you,  ye  shall  say.  The  Lord  hath  need  of 

traightway  he  will  send  them. 

IS  (lone,  that  it   nnght  l)*-  fiiltilliMl  whic-li  was  spoken  by  the  pro- 

ic  (laughter  of  Sion,  Hchold,  thy  King  conu'th  unto  thee,  meek, 
|M)n  an  ass,  and  a  «olt,  tin*  fnal  <>f  an  ass. 
isciplcs  went,  and  (lid  as  .lesus  coinnianded  tliem, 
;ht  the  ass,  and  the  colt  and  putOn  them  their  clothes,  and  they 
•on. 

y  great  niultitud*'  spread   their  garments  in  the  way;  others  cut 
les  from  the  trees,  and  straw(Ml  them  in  the  way. 
nultitudes   that    went  before,    and    that   followed,  cried,    saying, 
the  son  of  Uavid:    Hlessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  imme  of  the 
ma  in  the  highest, 
he  was  come   into  .lerusalem,    alt  the  city  was  moved,  saying, 

lultitude  said.  This  is  .lesus  the  prophet  of  Nazareth  of  Galilee. — 
1-Jl.      . 

iitry  into  Jerusjilein  is  tlie  triumphant  event  that 
1  tlie  last  week  of  Our  Lord's  earthly  life.  ^^Meek 
rr  upon  an  ass/'  as  became  tlie  humility  of  the  Prince 

it  was  nevertlieless  as  a  king  that  he  came.  The 
:eply  moved  by  the;  raising  of  Lazarus,  greeted  him 
iiisiasra.      It  seemed  for  a  moment  as  if   '^  the  Avorld 

after  liini."  so  great  was  the  multitude  which  went 
m,  spreading  tlieir  garments  and  strewing  palm 
in  the  way  as  they  raised  their  voices  in  hosannas. 


THE   PASSION 


227 


llitlierto  he  had  always  restrained  any  sort  of  public  demon- 
stration as  iiiibccoming  his  mission.  But  aa  he  comes  now 
to  his  final  victory,  he  permits  their  praises  to  break  forth; 
for  had  they  held  their  peace,  "  the  stones  would  immediately 
cry  out." 

So  happy  an  incident  is   rate  in  the  life  of  the  Man  ol 
Sorrows,  and  its  artistic  possibilities  must  be  recognized  at  once. 


iphsgu") 


In  the  history  of  s<icred  art  the  subject  has  had  a  long  and 
hononiblc  career 

It  fir^t  apj>ears  on  the  sarcophagi  of  earlj  centuries  Later 
it  ih  the  centnl  point  of  inteiest  in  e\ery  serial  treatment  of 
Chnst'i  life,  nc\ei  omitted,  I  tlnnk,  and  forming  a  dmding 
line  bettticu  the  mimstry  and  the  Paasion  In  'teries  devoted 
e\clusively  tu  the  l'as--ion,  it  is  the  introJuctory  subject  in 
ino'tt  Italian    ind  in  aome  northern  sets 

It  H  only  rndj  found  as  a  subject  of  independent  pictures, 
and  never,  -o  far  aw  I  know,  as  an  altar  piece 

Numerous  as  the  examples  are,  the  composition  varies  only 
little  (villi  individuals. 

Tlie  ty|M!  established  by  tradition  provided  all  the  necessary 
elements,  and  was  closely  adhered  to  by  successive  generations. 


riding  ou  an  ase,  advances  from  the  left  to  right  wsross 
ground  of  the  picture.* 

y  Eastlake  is  authority  for  the  etatement  that  in  the 
:  manuscripts  he  rides  in  a  sidewise  position.  Elae- 
be  is  usually  seated  astride,  holding  the  reins  in  hia 
nd  and  raimng  the  r^ht  in  benediction.  The  diacqilse 
after  on  foot,  and  beside  the  hbs  trots  a  little  col^  bs 
liotto,  Duccio,  and  Fra  Angelico,  though  this  featnie  ia 
i  from  some  of  the  later  pictures. 

company  coming  to  meet  the  procession  i»  large  or 
Lccording  to  the  skill  of  the  artist.  In  tlio  eiirly  repru- 
DQB,  three  or  four  figures  do  duty  for  thn  multilude, 
the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  century  ]iictured  coutaiii 
Tanged  groups. 

raditional  feature  of  the  composition  is  a  tree  iu  the 
ouud,  in  which  a  figure  is  seen  plucking  branches.  One 
t  of  the  company  spreads  a  garment  in  the  paUi,  and 
r  holds  a  palm. 

delineation  of  Chriet  does  not  require  great  things  of 
iet.  The  position  on  the  ass  being  fixed,  there  is  little 
"or  subtle  variations  iu  pose.  Tlie  gesture  of  benedic- 
eing  unanimously  agreed  u]khi  as  appropriate,  it  only 
s  to  portray  on  the  Master's  face  that  gentle  expres- 
'  dignified  benignity  which  is  so  common, 
princijjal  opportunity  for  originality  is  in  the  handling 
company  of  people.  With  Fra  Angelico  (aeries  in  the 
ce  Academy)  the  scene  is  a  pastoral  idyl,  enacted  in  a 
ountry  decorated  with  delicate  plumy  trees.  The  pro- 
moves  on  with  placid  serenity,  and  there  is  no  sign  of 
.  or  shouting, 

ito  (Arena  Cliapel,  Padua)  was  all  alive  to  the  excite- 
if  the  crowd.  One  man,  eager  to  do  honor  to  the  occa- 
ries  to  pull  off^  his  own  garment,  drawing  it  over  his 
1  his  haste  to  throw  it  in  the  way. 

her  in  dignity  and  beauty.  The  architectural  setting 
Ecially  fine ;  the  procession  approaches  the  city  gate 
I  paved  road  bordered  by  a  fine  stone  wall.  Through 
.tcway   throng    the   peojile,   a  company  of  children  in 

course  the  direetluii  ie  not  a  Imrd  uiid  fimt  riilt,  but  it  has  be«n  very 


bearing  small  branches ;  the  reference  being  to  the  chil- 
who  cried  Hosanna  in  the  temple,  Matt.  xxi.  15.  Old 
and  youths  press  after,  and  over  the  wall  and  from  the 
r  windows  peep  many  curious  on-lookers.  From  two  trees 
le  inclosure  beyond,  some  lads  pluck  branches  to  throw 
the  outstretched  arms  of  the  group  below ;  all  is  anima- 

Irer's  composition  of  the  Little  Passion  series  is  unusu- 
ine,  bringing  the  personality  of  Christ  into  a  prominence 
1  few  others  give  him.  His  figure  towers  in  the  middle 
9  picture  in  noble  dignity,  the  accompanying  figures  well 
dinated  at  right  and  left.  The  space  is  admirably  econo- 
I  for  effective  results,  the  background  being  the  turrets 
;ates  of  the  city  in  a  few  suggestive  outlines. 
le  Entry  into  Jerusalem  appears  ini  due  course  in  modem 
tries  illustrating  the  life  of  Christ,  by  Bida,  Overbeck,  and 
t.  It  was  the  subject  of  one  of  Overbeck's  first  pictures, 
I  when  a  young  man  in  the  Academy  at  Vienna,  but  not 
ed  till  fifteen  years  later  in  Rome.  It  has  an  historic 
5st  as  the  first  expression  of  a  protest  against  the  artificial 
ards  of  German  classicism,  and  united  the  qualities  of 
Italian  and  German  art.  Among  the  spectators  are 
Deck  himself,  his  father,  his  wife,  and  his  little  son. 
e  composition  of  his  Gospel  series  is  different,  and  is  an 
lent  typical  specimen  from  that  set.  With  great  symme- 
tid  beauty  in  grouping,  it  expresses  a  distinctly  modern 
Christ  advances  diagonally  from  right  to  left,  and  is 
in  nearly  front  view.  The  disciples  are  grouped  on  each 
each  one  bearing  a  palm.  A  man  kneels  in  front,  spread- 
garment  on  the  ground,  and  at  one  side  two  lovely  chil' 
join  in  hosannas. 

•re's  great  painting  is  the  only  notable  separate  picAirr 
e  subject,  and  displays  finely  the  peculiar  scenic  gifts  of 
irtist.  A  motley  company  of  men,  women,  and  children 
thrown  themselves  forward  on  the  right  and  left,  with 
3  and  garlands.  In  the  centre,  riding  directly  out  of  the 
re,  towards  the  spectator,  comes  Christ,  his  face  lifted 
aven  and  his  right  arm  raised  high  in  the  air.  The  atti- 
may  be  criticised  as  theatrical,  but  it  interprets,  not  un- 
nably  perhaps,  the  exalted  mood  in  which  the  Saviour 
ed  upon  his  final  work. 


THE  PASSION  231 


III.    Christ  Weeping  over  Jerusalem 

And  when  he  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city,  and  wept  over  it, 

Saving:,  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  thing.' 
which  belong  unto  thy  peace  !  but  now  they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes. 

For  the  days  shall  come  upon  thee,  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a  trench 
al>out  thee,  and  compass  thee  round,  and  keep  thee  in  on  every  side. 

And  shall  lay  thee  even  with  the  ground,  and  thy  children  within  thee 
and  they  shall  not  leave  in  thee  one  stone  upon  another;  because  thou  knewesl 
not  the  time  of  th}'  visitation.  — John  xix.  41-44. 

The  incident  which  St.  John  relates  as  a  circumstance 
attending  Christ^s  entry  into  Jerusalem  has  occasionally  beer 
treated  in  modern  art  as  a  separate  subject.  A  notable  picture 
of  the  early  century  was  by  Ary  Scheffer,  counted  one  of  his 
three  greatest  works.  By  Sir  Charles  Eastlake  there  is  a  pic 
ture  in  tlie  National  Gallery,  London.  Our  Lord  is  seated  on 
a  stone  bench  under  a  tree,  a  little  at  the  right,  his  hands 
clasped  on  his  knee,  looking  down  at  the  city,  which  lies  at  a 
much  lower  level  at  the  right.  On  a  stone  at  the  left  sits  an 
elderly  apostle,  probably  Peter,  looking  earnestly  into  Christ's 
face,  and  a  younger  disciple  behind  him  has  a  sad  expression. 
Between  these  figures  and  Christ*  are  three  more  apostles, 
standing  together  in  earnest  conversation.  The  expression  o\ 
the  Saviour  admirably  carries  out  the  words  of  the  text,  full 
of  tender  compassion  for  the  city. 


IV.    Christ  Cleansing  the  Temple 

And  Jesus  went  into  the  temple  of  God,  and  cast  out  all  them  that  sold  and 
bought  in  the  temple,  and  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  moneychangers,  ami 
the  seats  of  them  that  sold  doves. 

And  said  unto  them,  It  is  written.  My  house  shall  be  called  the  house  oj 
prayer;  but  ye  have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves.  —  Matt.  xxi.  12,  13. 

The  confusion  which  has  arisen  between  the  two  diflferent 
occasions  of  Our  Lord's  cleansing  the  temple  of  trade  makes  it 
impossible  to  refer  definitely  to  either  incident  the  independ- 
ent pictures  devoted  to  the  subject.  They  have,  therefore, 
already  been  mentioned,  and  it  rejnains  only  to  note  in  this 
place  the  compositions  so  placed  in  historical  series  that  the 
reference  is  plain. 

Such  a  one  is  in  Giotto's  series  of  frescoes  in  the  Arena 


LUKU   IN    AUT 


^tlllj;  the  Monpy  l.  Imngf 


iplH  (Delail)  (OioUo) 


j1,  Pndiia.  There  is  here  a  very  inaileijuate  idea  of  the 
It  and  confusion  of  the  incident.  Christ  stands  in  the 
1,  raising  his  right  arm  in  tlie  gesture  usually  seen  in 
ipresentatifins  of  tlie  Last  Judjjnient.  Ilis  face  is  seen  in 
i,  turned  towards  two  men,  who  appear  to  be  the  chief 
.ere,  and  who  look  at  him  fearfiiUy,  with  hands  raised  to 
off  the  hlijw.  Beyond  them,  some  of  the  priests  gravely 
s  the  all'air,  and  balancing  this  group,  at  the  other  side, 
le  disciples,  standing  hy  as  passive  spectators.  Dlirer's 
Passion  is  anotlier  historical  series  which  includes  the 
sing  of  the  Teraple  at  Christ'B  last  Passover. 
to  Christ's  indignation  is  limited,  in  a  very  singular  way, 


THE  PASSION  233 

to  a  single  individual  who  lies  prostrate  at  his  feet,  as  the 
Master  raises  the  knotted  cord  to  flog  him.  Two  or  three 
other  men,  on  either  side,  look  on  with  fear  and  horror,  and 
some  seem  to  be  hurrying  away  from  the  spot,  but  the  incident 
is  distinctly  a  combat  a  deux,  and  a  very  unequal  one  at  that. 
What  saves  the  picture  from  actual  vulgarity  is  the  really  fine 
figure  of  Christ,  tall  and  voluminously  draped. 


V.    Christ  discussing  the  Tribute  Money  with  the 

Pharisees 

Then  went  the  Pharisees,  and  took  counsel  how  they  might  entangle  him  ir 
his  talk. 

And  they  sent  out  unto  him  their  disciples  with  the  Herodians,  saying, 
Master,  we  know  that  thou  art  true,  and  teachest  the  way  of  God  in  truth, 
neither  carest  thou  for  any  man:  for  thou  regardest  not  the  person  of  men. 

Tell  us  therefore.  What  thinkest  thou  ?  Is  it  lawful  to  give  tribute  unt( 
CiL'sar,  or  not? 

But  Jesus  perceived  their  wickedness,  and  said,  Why  tempt  ye  me,  y( 
hypocrites  ? 

Shew  me  the  tribute  money.     And  they  brought  unto  him  a  penny. 

And  he  saith  unto  them,  Whose  is  this  image  and  superscription  ? 

Thev  sav  unto  him,  Caesar's.  Then  saith  he  unto  them,  Render  therefore 
unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Caesar's;  and  unto  God  the  things  that  an 
God's. 

When  they  had  heard  these  words,  they  marvelled,  and  left  him,  and  went 
their  wav.  —  Matt.  xxii.  15-22. 

Our  Lord's  discussion  of  the  matter  of  tribute  has  alread}i 
been  referred  to  under  the  subject  of  his  miraculously  provid- 
ing the  coin  for  the  payment  of  his  own  dues.  Both  incidents 
are  usually  briefly  called  "  Christ  and  the  Tribute  Money,''  but 
historically  and  artistically  they  should  be  clearly  distinguished. 
The  crafty  question  of  the  Pharisees  was  one  of  many  attemptt 
to  entrap  him  into  the  expression  of  some  treasonable  words 
which  might  lead  to  his  conviction.  It  is,  therefore,  properly 
speaking,  a  part  of  the  sequence  of  incidents  constituting  his 
Passion,  but,  being  fruitless  in  its  results,  it  is  not  included  in 
the  great  art  serials  of  the  Passion.  There  has  nevertheless 
been  a  wide  'recognition  of  the  larger  significance  of  the  inci- 
dent, as  containing  the  statement  of  a  universal  principle  o\ 
conduct.  In  this  way  a  few  pictures  have  been  painted  whicli 
place  the  subject  among  the  important  art  themes  in  the  life 
of  Christ. 


B  Hnd  an  uariy  ilhiatratJoii  iiiiiong  the  luiniulurca  by  Lib- 
da  Vei'ona.  in  tlie  Siena  CutliuJml  J-ibrurv.  Hut  the  luoat 
OS  example  iu  Italian  painting  is  tlm  beautiful  work  by 
B,  iu  the  Dresden  Gallery,  which  some  Imva  j-roaounceii 
lost  perfect  picture  produced  by  Uie  great  Veiiutian.  'JCbo 
:  of  the  Saviour  is  the  highest  expresMiou  of  Titinn'a 
|ie  Christ  ideal,  in  which  the  intellectual  element  prtnluni- 
a.  A  splendid  contrast  is  presented  in  the  uppoaittott 
fB  two  faces,  each  searching  the  other's  iuterrugu lively^ 
ie  Pharisee,  with  vulgar  cunning,  the  Saviour,  with  penai 
Ig  insight.  The  glatice  is  bo  disceruing  that  we  feel  ftt 
that  here  is  One  who  cannot  be  deceived  by  paltry  ejt- 
,  yet  winning  us  witbal  with  bis  gentle  patience, 
cm  the  art  of  the  seventeenth  century  we  bave  picturM 
irist  and  the  Tribute  Money  by  liiibeiia.  Van  Dyck,  sitdi 
bmndt.  Van  Dyck'B  picture,  as  described  iii  Smith's 
ialo^iu  raisonne,"  is  after  the  manner  of  Titian.  Christ 
Ib  right,  in  red  vest  and  blue  mantle,  replies  with  a  gcfr- 
to  the  inquiiy  of  the  I'hariiiee,  who  points  to  the  piece  of 
iy.  The  spectators  express  surprise  and  chagrin  at  tile 
t  of  theii'  plot.  Rubens  and  Eembrandt  give  a  larger  set- 
to  the  incident,  including  a  number  of  riiarisees,  who 
a  around  to  witness  the  entanglement  of  Christ.  The 
ling  by  EubeuB  is  known  through  vaiioua  eiipies.  one  ut 
b  in  in  the  Louvre,  Paris.  Kemhrandt'a  conijiositimi  is 
chiiig  assigned  to  the  date  1()43. 

da's  engraving,  in  his  illustrations  of  the  Evangelists,  is 
intly  inspired  by  Titian's  pictiive.  The  figures  are  in  half- 
.h,  Clirist  and  the  Pharisee  in  the  centre,  with  two  spec- 
s  ut  each  siile. 


VL    The  Pakabi.k  of  the  Ten  Vikgiks 

n  slinll  the  kingdom  of  henven  be  likenefl  uolo  ten  virgiim,  wl 

arapB,  ami  went  forli  to  meet  the  liriileBrooni. 

[  five  of  them  wen>  «dse,  nnd  five  wore  foolUh. 

y  that  irETe  foolish  took  their  lampB,  ftnd  tjiuk  no  oil  nith  their 

ithe  wis«  took  oil  In  their  vesralA  with  their  lamps. 

He  the  bridegroom  turried,  lliey  all  elumhereil  anil  slept. 

I  at  midlliKhl  there  wji«  u  r'rv  inoiii',  Uphold,  the  liridi^gmoiii  eo 

MiimPL-lhiln. 

u  nil  thiise  virgins  ii-os^  aiiJ  tiimiiiuil  liieir  lamps. 


THE    TASSION  Z3C 

And  the  foolish  said  unto  the  wise,  Give  us  of  your  oil;  for  our  lamps  an 
gone  out. 

But  the  wise  answered,  saying,  Not  so;  lest  there  be  not  enough  for  us  and 
you:  but  go  ye  rather  to  them  that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves. 

And  while  they  went  to  buy,  the  bridegroom  came;  and  they  that  wert 
ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage:  and  the  door  was  shut. 

Afterward  came  also  the  other  virgins,  saying.  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us. 

But  he  answered  and  said,  Verilv  I  sav  unto  vou,  I  know  vou  not. 

Watch  therefore,  for  ve  know  neither  the  dav  nor  the  hour  wherein  the 
Son  of  juan  cometh.  —  Matt.  xxv.  1-13. 


We  have  already  seen,  in  connection  with  the  parable  of  the 
Kich  Man  and  Lazarus,  that  the  contrasts  of  the  future  life 
were  a  subject  of  vivid  interest  through  all  the  mediaeval  cen- 
turies. As  a  prominent  feature  of  the  doctrinal  teachings  oi 
tlie  church,  it  necessarily  found  expression  in  art.  A  most  suit 
able  form  for  its  embodiment  was  the  representation  of  the 
Parable  of  the  Virgins. 

Understood  as  a  symbolic  reference  to  the  Last  Judgment 
the  figures  of  the  ten  virgins  appear  in  the  sculptured  orna 
mentation  of  many  Gothic  cathedrals  of  northern  Europe 
Mrs.  Jameson  collecteel  a  number  of  interesting  examples 
which  she  described  as  follows  :  — 

"At  Chartres,  on  the  vault  of  the  north  lateral  door,  tht 
five  wise  virgins  are  seen  modestly  veiled,  holding  up  theii 
lamps,  while  the  foolish  virgins,  with  long  floating  hair,  anc 
crowned  with  flowers,  carry  their  lamps  upside  down. 

"At  Strasburg,  the  ten  virgins  are  figured  in  ten  statues 
larger  than  life ;  at  Rheims,  the  statues  are  less  than  life ;  al 
Amiens,  they  are  on  each  side  of  the  principal  door ;  at  Nu 
remberg,  in  that  beautiful  porch  leading  into  the  Church  Oj 
St.  Sebaldus  (the  entrance  fitly  called  the  *  Bride^s  Door ') 
the  ten  virgins  stand  on  each  side.  These  figures  are  remark 
able  for  the  simple  elegance  of  the  conception  and  for  the  sen 
timent  conveyed,  —  the  wise  virgins  solemn  and  serene,  and  the 
foolish  virgins  sad  and  penitent,  with  drooping  heads  anc 
lamps  reversed. 

"  Fribourg.  The  ten  statues  are,  if  I  remember  aright,  al 
most  colossal,  and  an  angel,  hovering  between  the  two  proces 
sions,  has  in  his  right  hand  a  scroll,  on  which  is  written,  ir 
(lothic  letters,  ^  Vigilate  et  orate  ; '  in  the  left  hand,  a  scrol 
inscribed,  '  Nescio  vos.' 

"  On  the  great  west  portal  of  the  cathedral  at  Berne,  the^ 


n  a  prixiesaion,  undur  the  Last  .TuJgment.     Tl 
licli  are  of  much  lator  date   (1474)  than  in 
and  German  cathedrals  (1200-1350),  are  very  el 
le  these  exnniplea  from  <.lothic  sculpture  we  may  pin 
if  meiit£evul  origin  in  diH'eruiit  art  vehicles. 


AWiae  Virgin  (Setongauer) 


icoea  of  the  Brunswick  Cathedral,  painted  in  KomaS 
tyle,  is  the  auhjecfc  of  the  Wise  and  Fooliah  Vitg'  ' 
ill  known,  too,  ia  the  curious  miniature  in  the  "Le 
lucy,"  an  interesting  manuscript  made  in  the  elei 
for  St.  Vincent's  Monastery  at  Metz,  and  cnpi 
I  years  later,  the  second  edition  being  in  the  collection 
n,  Thia  composition  treats  only  the  fate  of  the  five 
rirginsj  and  in  a  purely  symbolic  manner.  They  stand 
',  swinging  their  lamps  from  the  ends  of  polee 
point  up  to  the  vision  of  the  bridegroom  (sponBoi 


THE  PASSION  237 

who,  wearing  a  crown,  appears  in  the  heavens  with  a  scroll,  on 
which  are  the  words,  "  Dico  nobis,  nescio  vos.'" 

There  is  a  set  of  ten  charming  designs  by  Martin  Sehongauer, 
devoted  to  the  five  wise  and  five  foolish  virgins.  The  former 
arc  pretty,  complacent  maidens,  with  long  kinky  haii,  adorned 
with  olive  wreaths.  They  wear  trailing  gowns,  which  they 
hold  daintily  up  with  one  hand,  while  in  the  other  each  carries 
a  bell-shaped  lamp,  hold  upright,  with  a  tongue  of  flame  burn- 
ing steadily  in  the  centre.  The  foolish  virgins  show  more 
diversity  in  dress  and  type ;  some  are  with  headdresses,  somt 


A  Foolish  Virgin  (Sehongauer) 

without;  some  wear  short  dresses  and  some  long;  but  non* 
arc  such  line  ladies  as  their  wise  sisters,  and  some  are  crying 
bitterly  with  disappointment.  They  carry  their  lamps  in 
verted,  hanging  listlessly  at  their  side,  and  their  garlands  lit 
un  the  ground  at  their  feet. 


anci   Liira  ur    uua   lajru   in    aki 


he  art  of  our  own  century,  the  Parable  of  the  Ten  Vir- 
18  occasionally  found  artistic  expression  in  independent 
)By  in  illustrated  Bibles,  and  in  church  decoration. 
Schadow,  a  lunette  shaped  picture.  In  the  middle  an 
loor,  with  the  two  groups  of  virgins  at  the  sides.  Christ, 
Muiied  by  the  apostles,  reaches  out  his  hand  in  welcome 
wise  virgins,  while  the  others,  just  rousing  from  sleep, 
trim  their  lamps  or  gaze  wildly  through  the  doorway. 
Piloty,  one  of  the  best  painters  of  the  Munich  school, 
irgins  await  the  coming  of  the  bridegroom  on  the  terrace 
irden.     In  the  centre  stands  the  queenly  figure  of  one 

wise  virgins,  holding  her  lamp  high  in  the  air.  At 
et  kneels  one  of  the  unhappy  virgins,  begging  some  oil, 
the  other  four  foolish  ones  are  at  the  left  in  various 
cal  attitudes  of  despair.  At  the  right,  the  others  hasten 
antly  down  the  marble  steps  of  the  terrace,  apparently 
the  bridegroom  approach,  and  one  waves  a  palm  branch 
some  him.  (Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York.) 
a  chose  for  illustration  that  later  moment  when  the 
room  lias  passed  within,  the  doors  are  closed,  and  the 

virgins  are  without  in  tlie  darkness, 
lot    has  devoted  one  water -color  to   each    of   the  two 

seen  in  the  interim  of  awaiting  the  bridal  party.  The 
irgins  are  asleep  in  a  row  on  a  bench,  but  each  has  set 
:hted  lamp  in  front  of  her,  so  that  she  will  be  ready  at 
ent's  notice.  The  foolish  virgins  in  the  mean  time  seem 
g  about  in  some  mad  game,  swinging  their  bottles  as 
roceed  gayly  to  buy  more  oil. 

the  Church  of  the  Heavenly  Kest,  New  York  city,  is  a 
w  representing  in  three  liglits  the  parable  of  the  virgins, 
entral  compartment  shows  Christ  just  stepping  into  an 
loor,  and  turning  towards  the  wise  virgins,  who  advance 
the  left  to  follow  him.      The  foolish  virgins  are  grouped 

right  compartment,  in  various  attitudes  of  grief  and 
n. 


THE   PASSION  23! 


VII.  The  Last  Supper 

Now  when  the  even  was  come,  he  sat  down  with  the  twelve. 

And  as  they  did  eat,  lie  said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  one  of  you  shall 
betray  nie. 

And  they  were  exceeding  sorrowful,  and  began  every  one  of  them  to  sa) 
unto  him.  Lord,  is  it  I  ? 

[Now  there  was  leaning  on  Jesus'  bosom,  one  of  his  disciples,  whom  Jesui 
loved. 

Simon  Peter  therefore  beckoned  to  him,  that  he  should  ask  who  it  should 
be  of  whom  he  spake. 

He  then  lying  on  Jesus'  breast  saith  unto  him.  Lord,  who  is  it? 

Jesus  answered,  He  it  is,  to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop,  when  I  have  dipped 
it.  And  when  he  had  dipped  the  sop,  he  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot,  the  son  o; 
Simon.] 

And  as  they  were  eating,  Jesus  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  brake  it,  anc 
gave  it  to  the  disciples,  and  said.  Take,  eat;  this  is  my  body. 

And  he  took  the  cup,  and  gave  thanks,  and  gave  it  to  them,  saying,  Drink 
ve  all  of  it; 

For  this  is  my  blood  of  the  new  testament,  which  is  shed  for  man^^  for  the 
remission  of  sins. 

But  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  not  drink  henceforth  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine 
until  that  day  when  I  drink  it  new  with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom.  — 
Matt.  xxvi.  20-29,  with  insertion  from  John  xiii.  23-26. 

On  the  Thursday  evening  following  Our  Lord's  triumphal 
entry  into  Jerusalem,  the  Master  and  his  disciples  gathered  aj 
appointed  to  celebrate  the  Passover.  This  is  the  occasior 
known  as  the  ^*  Last  Supper/'  the  last  time  that  the  twelve 
ate  with  the  Lord.  It  marks  at  the  same  time  the  last  oi 
the  old  order  and  the  beginning  of  the  new.  The  Jewisli 
Passover  was  fulfilled  and  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Suppei 
was  begun. 

To  the  casual  observer  the  Last  Supper  seems  to  be  one  oi 
the  most  ])opular  subjects  in  sacred  art,  because  some  well 
known  pictures  are  so  conspicuous  and  important.  The  sub- 
ject, however,  is  not  so  old,  and  outside  serial  treatment  not  sc 
common  as  many  others  apparently  insignificant. 

There  are  no  very  early  examples  (unless  we  accept  as  such 
a  curious  composition  among  the  sixth  century  mosaics  of  S. 
Apollinare,  Ravenna),  and  few  in  mediaeval  art.  Among  the 
rare  mediaeval  representations  are  a  bas-relief  on  the  Gaets 
column,  a  mosaic  in  the  Monreale  Cathedral,  and  a  miniature 
in  the  Evangelarium  of  Bruchsal,  in  the  Carlsruhe  Library. 
When   the  centuries   were   well   advanced,  every   typical  arl 


I  illustrating  tbe  life  of  Christ  iiicliulud  the  ea] 
erti,  Giotto,  Ducciu,  Fra  Angulieo,  I'mTari,  Tintoretbi^'t 
t,  to  whom  we  have  uoiistautly  referred  for  other  oxain- 
all  contributod  to  tlie  subject,  but  witli  results  soaroely 
irable  to  the  success  of  the  other  eoni  positions  in  their 
\.  It  was  iudeed  chiefly  iu  the  deconiliuu  uf  the  refec- 
that  the  best  achievements  were  made  in  this  gii'at  field, 
lis  clasH  of  frescoes  was  probably  more  uommoi^n  soutlierti 
lentral  Italy  than  in  the  north,  where  the  more  showy  sub- 
;of  the  Marriage  at  Cana  and  tlie  Feast  in  Simon's  Hnuso 
[preferred  for  the  some  purpose.  Nevertheless  a  consider- 
number  of  exami)les  may  be  drawn  from  all  ([unrters  of 

and  from  the  northern  couutriea  as  well.     The  formula 

rnpositiou  is  one  of  the  most  "set"  of  the  entire  Cliristian 

Its  limitations  )iavu  held  it  in  most  cases  on  a  deud 

of  mouotonona  mediocrity,  from  which  it  cotdd  Ije  raised 
by  great  genius  or  degraded  only  by  exceptional  stupidity. 
le  scene  is  the  interior  of  a  room,  from  which  often  a 
icape  may  be  seen  throutdi  open  windows  or  between  pil- 

&rches.  In  the  older  type  the  table  is  rectangular,  with 
>B  seated  on  both  front  and  rear  sides. 
lis  arrangement  is  seen  on  the  bas-relief  of  the  Gaeta 
in,  aud  in  the  compositions  belonging  to  the  series 
hiberti,  Giotto,  and  Duccio,  and  even  in  the  frescoes  of 
Vatican  Loggie.     Later  art  provided  various    devices  to 

the  anomaly  of  presenting  half  of  the  disciples  in  rear 

The  table  was  lengthened  and  all  the  figures  placed 

«  rear  side,  as  in  Leotiardo's  Ceuacolo.     Sometimes  the 

has  a  jog  at  each  end  to  accommodate  a  few  disciples  in 
e  positions.  It  may  even  he  perfectly  square,  with  occupants 
d  on  all  three  rear  sides,  leaving  the  front  free,  as  in  the 
iflting  Ferrarese  picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London, 
lo  Koselli  made  it  semicircular,  and  with  the  Germans 

often  perfectly  round.  Our  Lord's  position  is  usually 
le  centre  of  the  rear,  facing  out,  though  Ghiherti  and 
o  placed  him  at  one  end.  The  ]}lace  of  John  is  of 
e  fixed  beside  the  Saviour,  usually  at  the  left,  leaning 
.B  bosom  or  on  the  table  directly  in  front.  Sometimes, 
ge  to  say,  the  beloved  disciple  appears  to  he  fast  asleep, 
it  is  curious  that  this  interpretation  should  have  been 
ed  by  the  early  and  reverent  artists,  Giotto  and  Duccio. 


THE  PASSION  241 

eter's  proper  place  is  on  the  Lord's  right,  though  this  is  nol 
igidly  adhered  to.  Judas,  distinguished  by  the  bag  which 
le  holds,  is  variously  disposed  of.  Sometimes  he  sits  at  the 
3nd,  sometimes  alone  on  the  front  side  of  the  table,  seer 
partly  in  rear.  Leonardo's  treatment  is  unique  in  placing 
him  at  the  Saviour's  right.  Tintoretto  shows  him  in  the 
rear  rising  to  go. 

As  to  the  moment  chosen  there  are,  in  general,  two  classes 
of  pictures,  one  representing  the  Passover  meal  proper,  and 
the  other,  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  In  modern 
criticism,  also,  the  same  two  incidents  are  recognized  as  dis- 
tinct, and  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet  is  placed  betweer 
them  in  point  of  time.  An  analysis  of  either  subject  reveals 
several  possible  motifs.  At  the  Passover  meal  Our  Lord  ma}/ 
be  saying,  ^'  One  of  you  shall  betray  me,"  or  answering  the 
question,  "  Who  is  it  ?  "  or,  still  further,  dipping  his  hand  in 
the  sop  with  Judas.  In  the  later  conversation  he  may  be 
referring  either  to  the  bread  or  to  the  wine. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  in  the  Passover  Supper,  which 
is  the  more  common  of  the  two  subjects,  few  artists  have 
taken  pains  to  show  any  definite  action,  either  on  the  pari 
of  the  Master  or  of  the  disciples.  The  scene  is  usually  2 
purely  passive  tableau  with  figures  posed  as  for  the  raising 
of  the  curtain  ;  not  an  actual  and  interesting  event.  Oui 
Lord,  with  the  left  hand  resting  on  John's  arm,  raises  his 
right  in .  blessing,  and  the  disciples  assume  various  attitudes 
of  adoration,  sorrow,  or  surprise.  The  institution  of  the  Lord's 
Sui)per  is  usually  treated  in  a  formal  and  ecclesiastical  way. 
with  solemn  sacramental  dignity.  This  lack  of  action  in  the 
handling  affords  a  certain  advantage  over  other  scenes  in 
Christ's  life  in  the  opportunity  for  perfecting  the  ideal  Christl}/ 
countenance.  Other  incidents  bring  out  some  specific  phases 
of  his  character,  his  comj)assion  for  the  sick,  his  condemnation 
of  hypocrisy,  his  humility  in  suffering,  his  benignity  in  be- 
stowing favors.  Here  we  have  rather  a  generalized  portrait 
in  which  the  artist  strives  to  sum  up  all  the  elements  he  con- 
ceives as  entering  into  the  perfect  character  of  Christ  Jesus. 
This  aim  is  too  often  at  the  expense  of  the  unity  of  the  com- 
position, the  lack  of  which  is  one  of  the  most  signal  defects 
of  the  majority  of  pictures.  There  is  no  singleness  of  thoughi 
animating  the  entire  company.     The  component  figures  fall 


eitliBr  in  groufis  or  as  iniiiviiltialB,  witliout  rolntion  JH 
entraliaing  mutive.  A  traiiscenUeiit  exception  to  this 
>n  fault  is  tlm  masterpiece  of  Leouardo  da  Vincij  fres- 
)ti  the  wall  of  the  Coiivunt  of  S.  Jtaria  dullo  Grazie, 
Here  Our  Tjord'a  words  thrill  the  whole  aaacnibly 
me  thought.  This  is  expressed  bj  astonishment,  anger, 
,  indignation,  sorrow,  curiosity,  in  ono  case,  indeeil,  by 

fear;  but  with  every  dilferonce  of  tomperameut,  all 
lauimous  in  purpose ;  every  exi>reasioii,  gesture,  action, 
r  out  the  central  idea  of  the  botraynl.  With  unlimited 
Ity  we  have  absolute  unity.  The  composition  has  other 
jualitiea  which  have  been  more  commonly  noticed,  —  the 
id  individualiitatlon  of  heads,'  the  majestic  sadDoss  of 
iviour'a  countenance,  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  land- 
background.  As  in  all  supreme  achievements  iu  art, 
[heat  quality  is  simplicity,  hence  it  does  not  aniane  ub 
te  greatness,  but  satiaties  us  with  its  perfection.  The 
tl  fresco  13  already  irrevocably  injured  by  decay,  hut  in- 
able  copies,  however  inferior  to  the  master's  own  work, 
Busmit  the  essential  composition  to  future  generations, 
isured  by  the  standard  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  every 
uenacolo  strikes  us  first  with  its  weakness  rather  than 
cellence,  but  in  a  number  of  important  examples  we 
find  some  few  admirable  features.  The  moat  notable 
liaps  that  of  Andrea  del  Sarto,  in  the  refectory  of  the 
I  Monastery  of  San  Salvi,  just  outside  Florence,  This 
les  some  extremely  interesting  artistic  qualities  in  point 
sr,  drawing,  disposition  of  draperies,  etc.,  and  is  justly 
*d  a  fine  work.     The  composition  at  once  suggests  the 

at  MUau,  principally  because  of  the  animation  of  the 
elaewhere  usually  bo  fjuiet.  Three  of  the  figures  are 
9g  in  attitudes  similar  to  some  iu  Leonardo's  fresco,  and 
alternate  faces  on  either  side  are  turueil  in  profile  to- 
the  centre  in  an  elfort  towards  unifying  the  composition, 
inity,  however,  is  no  more  than  mechanical  because  the 

of  Our  Lord  is  so  lacking  in  centralizing  force,  —  an 
ificant  figure,  less  dignified  than  others  of  the  company, 
ini  again  to  the  great  Lombaid  fresco  with  new  appre- 
i  of  the  magnificent  dominating  character  of  the  central 

■  See  Mrs.  Jaaiesoa'i-  iSnmd  nnil  Lcgcadnrti  Art,  [>]>,  282,  2HIJ, 


.Oilajn  tlicre  are  two  important  refoctoij  £ 

inacolo  in  Florence,  ttie  first  in  Ugni  Sutiti,  and  thi;  Iftter 

iniilar  one  in  Sun  Marco.     These  present  the  best  fnrm 

passive  typf  cum  position.  Tlio  OiriEt  is  a  benignant 
Unified  figure  presiding  in  the  midst,  und  bestowing  the 
Iction  upon  his  disciples.  The  eft'ect  is  distinctly  devo- 
,  and  the  composition  is  impressive  and  reverent, 
lllar  in  Moti/taid  arrangement  are  two  other  well  known 
»  ill  ilorence,  the  Cenacolo  of  8.  Onaftio,  whose  nnthor- 
I  the  subject  of  much  dispute,  and  that  of  S.  Grace,  by 
painter  of  Giotto's  school.  In  all  four  of  these.  Our 
I  action  is  the  same,  the  gesture  uf  l>enediction.  In  all 
llso,  Judoa  is  alone  on  the  front  side,  separated  from  the 
ay  <if  the  faithful  by  liis  sin.  In  all  four  the  tranquil 
ony  of  the  scene  is  relieved  by  the  line  character  delinea- 
I  the  individual  apostles  and  the  noble  dignity  of  the 
IT.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  fresco  of  S.  Onofrio. 
I  Cenacolo  of  C^ssimo  lioselli,  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  is 
nirable  work,  whose  beauty  is  enhanced  by  the  landsoipe 
comid,  "which  Viero  di  Cosimo  may  have  supplied.     The 

ia  the  Isetitiition  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  the  table 
roid  of  all  furnishings  except  the  chalice  in  front  of 
t  The  Saviour  holds  a  sacramental  wafer  in  the  left 
and  raises  his  right  to  bless,  while  the  disciples  assume 
,Onal  attitudes.  Four  spectators  are  present.  Other  pic- 
of  this  same  general  mufif  are  the  Ferrarese  picture  in 
National  Gallery,  already  once  alluded  to,  and  the  panel 
I  Angelico,  in  the  Florence  Academy  series, 
less  than  five  pictures  of  the  Last  Supper  are  attributed 
toretto  ill  the  following  places  in  Venice  :  S8.  Protasio  e 
iio  (commonly  called  San  Trovaso),  S,  Gioi'gio  Maggiore, 
dIo,  S.  ,Stefano,  S.  Eocco.  Without  mentioning  the 
at  details  in  each  case,  it  may  be  said  in  general  of 
etto's  treatment  that  it  anticiijated  all  the  homeliness 
mbrandt,  without  any  of  the  Bcriousiiess  of  the  great 

realist,  and,  lacking  the  eaaential  element  of  reverence, 
rades  the  subject    into  hopeless  vulgarity.     The  scene 

in  a  common  Italian  inn  painted  with  striking  realism, 
brorunnet  of  Tintoretto  in  the  vein  of  realism,  we  may 
m  here  Loren/etti's  fresco  in  the  series  at  Asaisi. 
)ther  Venetian  painter  of  the  Cenacolo  is  Bonifozio  II., 


4 


THE   PASSION  24r, 

by  whom  there  are  pictures  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence, 
and  in  the  Church  of  S.  Maria  Mater  Domini,  Venice.  The 
Uffizi  composition  is  interesting  for  the  unique  motif,  whicli 
represents  the  moment  when  Christ  and  Judas  simultaneous]}? 
dip  their  hands  into  the  dish.  There  are  other  Venetian 
pictures,  not  notable,  by  Titian  and  Veronese. 

From  the  art  of  the  north  a  list  of  the  celebrated  pictures 
of  the  Last  Supper  should  contain  that  of  Holbein,  in  the 
]^asle  Gallery,  a  portion  of  which  is  missing ;  that  of  Schaeu- 
felein  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  and  the  compositions  in  the  Pas- 
sion series  by  Dlirer  and  Lucas  van  Leyden.  In  these  we 
have  the  usual  sturdy  German  type  of  disciples,  honest  and 
simple  in  their  naturalness,  and  not  above  interest  in  the  eat- 
ing and  drinking.  In  the  midst  sits  the  solemn,  sad-faced 
Christ  with  John  asleep  on  his  bosom. 

Our  list  could  be  extended  almost  indefinitely  to  include  the 
pictures  of  intervening  centuries  down  to  our  own  day,  but 
without  sufficient  variety  in  treatment  and  interpretation  to 
lend  interest  to  so  detailed  a  study.  There  are  seventeenth 
century  pictures  by  the  well  known  painters  of  France,  Spain, 
and  the  Netherlands,  though  none  among  them  are  conspicuous 
for  excellence. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  first  order  ever  given  foi 
ecclesiastical  art  in  our  own  country  was  for  an  altar  painting 
of  the  Last  Supper.  This  order  was  given  by  the  Church  oi 
St.  Barnabas,  near  Marlboro',  Queen  Anne's  Parish,  Prince 
George's  County,  Maryland,  September  5,  1721,  and  the 
painter  was  Gustavus  Hesselius,  a  Swedish  artist  who  had 
come  to  these  shores  in  1711.  Unfortunately,  the  original 
building  containing  the  fresco  is  no  longer  in  existence,  being 
replaced  in  1773  by  the  present  structure.  Hence  we  have  nc 
information  concerning  the  quality  or  character  of  this  picture. 

In  our  own  day  we  have,  besides  the  illustrations  of  art 
Bibles,  some  independent  pictures  of  special  interest. 

Following  the  lead  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  modern  artists 
have  sought  to  give  genuine  dramatic  interest  to  the  incident 
by  depicting  a  specific  moment  which  demands  variety,  and  a1 
the  same  time  unity  of  action.  There  are  notable  pictures, 
by  E.  von  Gebhardt  and  Fritz  von  Uhde,  treating  in  commor 
the  moment  of  the  departure  of  Judas,  and  emphasizing  the 
sorrow  of  the  disciples  in  hearing  the  strange  words  of  theii 


TllK    LIVE    OF    OUK    LORD    IN    AKT 

Master.  Von  Gebhardt's  Christ  is  just  answering  the 
1  which  John  has  put,  while  Peter  leans  eagerly  over 
d's  shoulder  to  hear.     Fritz  von  Uhde's  simple  pathos 

under  mcxiern  forms  the  spirit  of  Rembrandt.  Again 
e  the  gentle  peasant  Christ,  who  wins  and  rules  l)y 
Holding  the  cup  in  his  hand,  while  every  eye  is  fixed 
gly  upon  him,  he  says  solemnly,  "  I  will  not  drink 
rth  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine  until  that  day  when  I 

new  with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom." 


'^III.  Christ  WASHiN(t  thk  T)is<;iplp]s'  Feet 

pper  bein;;  ended,  tlie  devil  liuvipj;^  now  put  into  the  heart  of  Judas 

Simon's  son,  to  betray  him; 

mowing  that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  his  hands,  and 

as  come  from  God,  and  went  to  God ; 

th  from  supper,  and  laid  aside  his  gannents;  and  took  a  towel,  and 

mself. 

lat  he  poureth  water  into  a  bason,  and  began  to  wash  the  disciples' 

to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  wherewith  he  was  girded. 

)metli  he  to  Simon  Peter:  and  Peter  saitli  unto  him,  Lord,  dost  thou 

feet  ? 

uswered  and  said  unto  him,  What  I  do  thou  kuowest  not  iu)w;  hut 

t  know  hereafter. 

lith  unto  him.  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet.    Jesus  answered  him, 

thee  not,  thou  hast  n(»  part  with  me. 

Peter  saith  unto  him,  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands  and 

---John  xiii.  2-9. 

ar  Lord's  entire  life  had  l)ecn  one  of  humble  service  to 
y,  he  summed  up  the  whole  lesson  in  a  simple  act  of 
[  service  to  his  disciples  on  their  last  evening  together. 
s  the  customary  oriental  duty  of  washing  the  feet  on 
s  of  *eating ;  a  duty  ordinarily  assigned  to  servants. 
»wn  application  of  the  moral  is  so  pointed,  tliat  Chris- 
h  must  needs  a(;ce])t  this  act  as  one  of  great  religious 
nee.  From  this  ])()int  of  view  it  is  an  important  art 
of  the  (christian  cycle.  The  sul)joct,  though  dating 
an  early  period,  was  not  popular  in  early  art.  It  was 
thought  slightly  derogatory  to  ('lirist's  dignity,  but, 
)ther  hand,  the  ])rominence  of  Peter  gave  it  a  certain 
It  is  seen  on  some  of  the  bas-reliefs  of  sarcophagi 
:1  in  (larrucci's  "  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana,"  in  con- 
witli  other  incidents  exalting  the  chief  apostle. 


THE   PASSION 


In  all  these  cases,  Peter  occupies  a  place  of  honor  in  a  cliair 
another  disciple  acting  as  spectator.  Christ  performs  his  diitj 
ill  the  standing  position,  and  this  position  was  retained  foi 
sometime.     Engravings  in  Seroux  d'Agincourt's  "Histoirc  dt 


I'Att  pat  les  Monumens  "  show  the  same  treatment  in  a  Latii 
manviscript  of  the  Vatican  Library,  and  in  the  frescoes  of  S 
UrlMin  alia  Caffarella. 

In  process  of  time,  however,  tlie  change  was  made  to  tin 
kneeling  posture,  which  we  see  in  all  later  pictures 

The  Foot-washing  —  to  use  the  brief  term  found  in  lists  o 
Christian  subjects  — is  a  common  but  not  indispeiisahle  fei 
ture  in  the  serial  treatments  both  of  Chribt's  entire  life  and  o 
the  Passion,  found  in  all  such  longer  series  as  Giotto's  (Areni 


A,  i'adnu.),    Diiccio's    (Opei-fi    del    Huomn,    Sienn),   anif^ 
fii    Little    Passion,    but    omitted    in    the    Bliort«r   ones, 
lhiberti'8  (Florence  Baptistery  gate),  and  Dlirer's  Greater 
ttt. 

'place  is  imtucdiat-ely  after  the  Last  Sup]>er,  without 
.  to  the  particular  form  which  thrtt  subject  assumes, 
irtist  had  simply  in  juiud  the  words  which  St.  John 
b  introducing  the  incideut,  "  Sup]>er  being  endeil." 
]ih  one  accord,  all  artiste  have  selected  fur  representations 
Ktraeut  wlien  (.'hriat  comes  to  Simon  I'eter,  but  there  is 
t)om  for  some  variety  in  the  particular  words  expressed 
t  apostle. 

'  Angelico  (Florence  Academy  Beries)  depicts  the  im- 
i  diaciple'e  first  shocked  sense  of  propriety.  \Vith  depre- 
:  gesture  he  shrinks  away,  drawing  his  feet  under  him 
humility. 

triotto's  composition  he  has  heeded  Our  Lord's  expla- 
,  and,  having  yielded  his  foot,  extends  his  hand  also. 
X>uccio,  he  lays  one  hand  expressively  on  his  head  to 
B  that  in  his  request. 

I  may  derive  a  general  idea  of  the  Italian  type  by  com- 
the  three  above-mentioned  compositions,  noting  simi- 
il  and  differences.      One  variation,  which  must  strike  ua 

B,  is  iu  the  number  of  disciples  present.  Giotto  and  Fra 
ico  give  twelve,  Duccio  but  eleven ;  the  former  coneeiv- 
e  incident  as  taking  place  previous  to  the  departure  of 

the  latter  supposing  it  to  follow, 
tto  and  Fra  Augelico  both  adopt  the  same  general  arrange- 
The   disciples  sit  in  a  semicircle,  open   towards  tlie 
tor,  and  Our  Lord,  seen  in  profile,  kneels  iti  the  centre 

foreground,  liofore  the  apostle  Peter,  Duccio  masses 
«cipleB  together  on  an  elevated  platform  at  the  right, 
jhrist  kneeling  at  the  other  side  before  Peter,  who 
es  the  foremost  place  in  the  company, 
all  three  pictures,  a  shallow  basin  of  water  is  set  on  the 
n  front  of  Christ ;  and  in  Giotto's  picture  we  have  the 
3  feature  of  one  of  the  younger  disciples  standing  with 
panion  just  behind  the  Saviour,  holding  a  jar  of  water 
ijneea.     One  fact  belongs  to  all  in  common,  and  that 

extreme  reverence  of  handling.  Though  in  so  lowly 
itude,  the  Saviour  is  a  dignified,  even  a  noble  figure,  per- 


THE   PASSION  249 

forming  the  task  with  a  gesture  which  reveals  him,  in  spite  of 
the  service,  the  Lord  and  Master. 

Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet  is  one  of  the  most  nota- 
ble subjects  in  Gaudenzio  Ferrari's  frescoes  in  S.  Maria  delle 
Grazie,  Varallo,  highly  praised  in  Bordiga's  Guide  for  the 
noble  and  majestic  mien  of  the  Christ  and  for  the  interesting 
characterization  of  the  apostles. 

The  early  spirit  of  reverence  is  admirably  preserved  in  a 
picture  by  Morando,  in  the  Verona  Gallery,  formerly  attri- 
buted to  Morone.  At  the  left,  Peter  and  two  other  disciples 
still  remain  seated  at  the  end  of  the  table,  while  the  remain- 
der of  the  twelve  are  standing,  one  group  directly  behind  the 
table,  among  them  Judas,  with  averted  face,  and  the  rest  of 
the  number  forming  a  group  in  the  background  at  the  right. 
Our  Lord  kneels  opposite  Peter,  his  figure  falling  within  the 
left  side  of  the  picture,  and  at  some  little  distance  behind  him 
kneels  a  servant  with  bucket  and  jar.  By  this  arrangement 
the  picture  falls  into  two  distinct  groups,  at  right  and  left. 
We  should  have  a  group  admirable  in  itself  by  taking  out  the 
figures  of  the  disciples  at  table,  with  Our  Lord  kneeling  be- 
fore them.  The  Saviour's  expression  is  one  of  profound  hu- 
mility, somewhat  more  artificial,  perhaps,  than  that  of  the 
earlier  masters,  but  nevertheless  admirable.  Pointing  with 
one  delicate  hand  to  himself  as  he  extends  the  other  towards 
the  copper  basin,  he  seems  to  say,  "  If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou 
hast  no  part  with  me."  This  work,  it  should  be  remarked, 
belongs  to  no  series,  having  originally  been  painted  as  a  sep- 
arate picture  for  a  chapel  in  S.  Maria  in  Organo,  Verona. 
There  are  other  examples  of  the  subject  treated  independently, 
as  one  by  Tintoretto,  in  the  National  Gallery,  London.  In 
this,  the  sacramental  quality  of  the  earlier  compositions  has 
yielded  to  various  touches  of  realism  :  a  disciple  in  one  corner 
wiping  his  foot ;  a  woman  holding  a  large  taper  at  the  left ; 
a  figure  in  the  background  reclining  before  a  fire,  etc.  The 
motif  of  the  central  figures  is  as  of  old,  the  conversation  be- 
tween Our  Lord  and  Peter,  but  lacking  the  old  spirit  of 
reverent  interpretation.  In  the  Berlin  Gallery  there  are  two 
pictures  of  Christ  washing  the  Disciples'  Feet  as  treated  in 
German  art. 

By  the  younger  Cranach  (in  the  Berlin  Gallery)  the  treat- 
ment is  admirably  conceived.     Christ,  holding  Peter's  foot  in 


eg  Ills  right  with  a  geeture  of  eAiiliuiutioii, 

uch  the  apostle  rosponds  by  laying  his  own  haml  on  hie 
I     One  disciple  caitios  a  large  ewF<r,  an>l  &U  tho  otliern 
igetly  iutorestotl  in  the  occneion,  well  griiiii>ed  in  tho  rpnr 
|t  the  left, 
r  Viauz  FraMcken   U,   the  speim   is   eomhine.l   with    (he 


Siippei',  the  wasliinp  "f    I'eter's  feet  ^r>iiig  on    in  the 

ound,  while  the  disciples  convei'se  tuf;i'lhe|-  on  benches 

against  the  walls.      Through  a  ilm^iway,  one  looks 

iner  room  where  all  are  seated  at  table.     The  picture 

he  Berlin  Gallery, 

rer'a  wood-uut,  in  the  I^ittle  Passion,  has  the  homely 
city  which  char/icterizea  his  rugged  CJcririan  iiuagina- 
Witb  him,  the  foot-woshing  ia  no  pretense,  but  an 
servioe,  and  Christ  bends  to  the  task  with  great  seri- 
J,  while  Peter  raises  liia  hand  espressivoly  to  hia  head. 


THE   PASSION  251 

The  other  disciples  form  a  semicircular  group  in  the  rear  of  the 
room,  —  St.  John,  young  and  handsome,  being  chiefly  interestec 
in  the  main  action. 

A  very  notable  contribution  to  the  subject  of  Christ  washing 
Peter's  Feet  is  by  Ford  Madox  l^rown,  of  pre-Raphaelite  fame 
His  painting  was  exhibited  in  1852  in  the  Koyal  Academy 
and  was  presented  in  1893  to  the  National  Gallery,  London 
where  it  represents  admirably  the  strongly  individual  qualities 
of  a  rarely  gifted  artist.  The  painter  throws  ofl"  all  the  in- 
fluences of  tradition,  and  approaches  the  subject  not  less 
reverently  than  the  old  masters,  but  with  a  mind  directly 
open  to  all  the  suggestiveness  of  the  narrative.  The  moment 
of  explanation  is  past.  The  Master  has  made  his  meaning 
clear  to  Peter,  whose  vehemence  has  given  w^ay  to  reverent 
submission,  and  Our  Lord  quietly  proceeds  with  his  task, 
grasping  one  foot  firmly  in  his  right  hand,  while  he  applies 
the  drying  cloth  with  the  other.  Both  men  are  absorbed  in 
reverie,  their  heads  bent  upon  their  breasts,  the  Master's 
•  youthful  face  full  of  pensive  sorrow,  the  disciple's  older  coun- 
tenance profoundly  meditative ;  both  submissive  to  the  divine 
will,  each  in  his  own  way.  In  the  rear  stands  the  table  about 
which  the  other  disciples  sit  in  various  attitudes  of  thoughtful 
attention. 

The  painter  had  an  entirely  unique  interpretation  to  offer  tc 
the  world,  and,  with  assured  technique  and  rich,  subdued  color, 
was  able  to  carry  his  thought  into  perfect  execution, 

IX.  Our  Lord's  Farewell  Discourse 

Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled:  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me. 

In  fiiy  Father's  house  are  many  mansions:  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have 
told  you.     I  ^o  to  prepare  a  place  for  you. 

And  if  I  p)  and  prei)are  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again,  and  receive  yoii 
unto  nivself ;  that  where  I  am,  there  ve  mav  be  also. 

And  whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye  know. 

Thomas  saith  unto  him,  Lord,  we  know  not  whither  thou  goest;  and  how  can 
we  know  the  wav  ? 

Jesus  saith  unto  him,  lam  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life:  no  nuui  cometli 
unto  the  Father,  ])ut  by  me. 

If  ye  had  known  me,  ye  should  have  known  my  Father  also:  and  fnmi  hence- 
forth ye  know  him,  and  have  seen  him. 

Philip  saith  unto  him,  Lord,  shew  us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us. 

Jesus  saith  nnto  him,  .Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you,  and  yet  hast  thou 
not  known  me,  Philip  ?  he  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father;  and  how 
sayest  thou  then,  Shew  us  the  Father  ? 


tsk  until  yoa  1  spvuk  nut  <•!  myatll:  l>ilt  llit'  l''iilJ».-r  tilut  i 
[leth  the  wurks. 

imoltuit  lam  tn  tbe  Fntlitr.  mirl  lliv  F&lUvr  in  mv:  ur  r 
te  YCTj  works'  Bilks.  —  Juiis  xiv.  1-11. 

discourse  which  followed  the  Ijist  Supper,  as  related  in 
rteeuth,  Hfteenlb,  and  i<ixU«ut1i  chuptere  uf  Kt.  John, 
iGonahlj  be  B\ippos(:d  to  have  tiiken  pltice  in  tlie  >4ame 
ihamhor,  where  the  taijle  was  loid,  if  not  aCtuallj  ahout 
Ifi.  It  was  thus  that  Diiccio  represented  it  in  liis  I'ns- 
ries  of  Siena. 

setting  is  the  same  as  in  the  previous  subject,  but  the 
AS  been  removed,  and  the  eleven  disciples,  Judas  now 

are  seated  in  a  group  at  the  right,  while  Our  Lord,  at 
;,  speaka  his  oomfoiting  farewell  words,  "  Let  not  your 
e  troubled." 

ve  not  seen  any  other  aeriea  which  has  taken  account 
discourse,  and  only  one  separate  picture  devoted  tti  the 

This  is  by  ISonifazio  11.,  in  the  Venice  Academy,    ■ 
s  special  reference  to  I'hilip's  request,    "  Lord   show 

Father,"  The  composition  shows  Christ  and  Philip 
length  figures  in  the  foregrannd,  with  tjio  heads  of  the 
3  seen  in  tlie  rear.  The  face  of  Philip  is  strong  and 
in  earnest  inquiry. 

Saviour  is  a  fine  example  of  the  Venetian  Christ  ideal, 
le  has  the  same  intellectual  cast  which  wo  note  in 
!  Christ, — beautiful  without  weakness.  The  gesture 
eful   and  natural,   giving  the  impression  of  a  simple 

entirely  in  keeping  with  the  incident, 
er  the  two  tigures  are  Latin  inscriptions,  giving  ques- 


HK    Af 

ONY    IN 

THE    Gai 

I.KN,  OB  Christ 

ON 

THE 

MOUN 

T 

oniolli  J 

SU9  with 

them  uiilo  a 

ilati-  culled  Gi'tliB 

ma 

!■-,  R 

il  siuth 

diBCipiflS 

Sit  VK  h 

ni,  while  r  «. 

took  with  him  Peter  Mid  tlie  tv 

n  snn!  at  Zehedee 

anrt 

l„.g 

an  to  be 

Mi  ver 

nith  he  u. 

nto  Lhem, 

My  siiul  is  eJi 

ceeding  aorrowfnl, 

even 

1  death: 

6  fell  on  his  bwe,  and  prated,  naying,  O  my 


THE   PASSION  253 

Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me :  nevertheless  not  as  I  will, 
but  as  thou  wilt. 

And  he  cometh  unto  the  disciples,  and  liudeth  them  asleep,  and  saith  unto 
Peter,  What,  could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ? 

Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation:  the  spirit  indeed  is  will- 
ing, but  the  flesh  is  weak. 

lie  went  away  again  the  second  time,  and  prayed,  saying,  O  my  Father,  if 
this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from  me,  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done. 

And  he  came  and  found  them  asleep  again:  for  their  e^'es  were  heav}'. 

And  he  left  them,  and  went  away  again. 

[And  there  appeared  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.] 

Then  cometh  he  to  his  disciples,  and  saith  unto  them.  Sleep  on  now,  and 
take  your  rest :  behold,  the  hour  is  at  hand,  and  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed 
into  the  hands  of  sinners. 

Kise,  let  us  be  going:  behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth  betray  me.  —  Matt. 
xxvi.  36-46,  with  Luke  xxii.  43,  44. 

As  the  temptation  in  the  wilderness  was  Our  Lord's  pre- 
paration for  life,  so  the  pra3^er  in  Gethsemane  was  hid  prepa- 
ration for  death.  Both  times  we  are  permitted  a  glimpse  of 
the  inner  conflict,  but  into  a  full  comprehension  of  its  mean- 
ing we  may  never  enter.  The  physical  sufferings  which  fol- 
lowed are  an  actual  reality  more  readily  apprehended,  a 
symbol,  as  it  were,  of  the  deeper  reality  of  the  inner  suffering. 
The  Agony  in  the  Garden  is  less  visible  to  the  outer  eyt 
than  to  the  eye  of  faith.  According  to  the  canons  of  classic 
art,  it  is  on  this  account  more  suitable  for  aesthetic  treatment. 
Many  sensitive  temperaments  desiring  some  artistic  expression 
of  Christ's  passion,  which  shall  not  pain  them  with  the  intru- 
sion of  too  obvious  physical  suffering,  find  this  subject  bettei 
adapted  to  that  end  than  the  Crucifixion. 

The  night  of  prayer  ends  with  the  Betrayal  of  Jesus  intc 
the  hands  of  the  Koman  soldiery,  and  these  two  incidents, 
inseparably  connected  in  thought,  are  likewise  associated  to- 
gether in  art.  In  most  series  of  any  considerable  detail,  both 
subjects  have  equal  importance.  When  economy  of  space  b 
necessary,  the  two  are  combined  in  a  single  composition,  on( 
or  the  other  falling  into  the  background.  In  serials,  the  Be- 
trayal has  taken  precedence  of  the  Agony,  as  a  more  necessary 
link  in  the  development  of  the  Passion,  but  as  a  separate 
subject  in  later  art,  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  is  much  more 
jjopular;  thus,  in  historic  origin,  the  Agony  appears  to  be 
later  than  the  Betrayal,  later  even  than  the  Crucifixion.     The 


st  exauplee  I  find  are  in  the  illuminated  nunoacr^tta,  u 
e  Gospel  Book  of  Munich,  and  in  a  Greek  manon^pt 
e  Vaticaa  Library.  In  the  latter,  Christ  is  proBtiate 
e  ground  in  the  oriental  manner,  and  the  divine  help  is 
'eated  in  the  form  of  a  hand  in  the  sky. 
at  the  subject  was  not  common,  even  in  medieval  «rt, 
iiink,  evident  from  the  fact  that  Giotto  doea  not  intto- 
it  into  his  eeries.  Duccio,  on  the  other  hand,  at  about 
ime  period,  includes  the  Bubject  in  his  iiim-li  luurt.- elalt- 

development  of  the  ^aaion  narrative  in  Sictm.  It  is 
kaUe  to  aee  how  completely  hiscompoKiiUm  i:ovors  the 
'.  narrative:  the  eight  disciples  waitin;;  at  t\w  left  of 
oreground,  all  sound  asleep, — the  three  mare  intimale 
Is,  on  a  little  higher  level  towards  tta  CL'iitro.  (tittiiig 
ler,  with  faces  lifted  attentively  ae  Christ  KtuiiiU  i^jmakiiig 
im,  —  and  still  farther  to  the  right,  the  suffiiriug  Lord, 
ing.  alone  in  his  agony,  mth  hands  lifted  in  supplication, 

angel,  hovering  above  him,  stretches  out  the  arm  of 
^hening  comfort. 

e  typical  composition  in  the  period  which  follows  di&rs 
lerably  from  this.  The  general  arrangement  is  some- 
aiiuilar  to  that  of  the  Transfigumtion,  the  setting  being 
ping  landscape,  with  the  three  disciples  lying  on  the 
d  in  the  foreground,  and  Our  Lord  apart,  in  tiie  upper 
!,     The  disciples  are  heavy  with  sleep,  and  Our  Lord's 

is  witnessed  only  by  bis  angel  companion.     In  the  dis- 

a  band  of  soldiers  approaches,  led  by  Judas.  The 
iir  kneels,  usually  in  proHle,  on  a  mound  which  is  some- 

of  rocky  formation,  as  in  the  pictures  of  Bellini  and 
igna.  The  cup,  to  which  he  refers  as  a  symbol,  takes 
ial  form  as  a  chalice,  which  is  a  welliiigh  invariable 
e.  In  rare  instances  this  stands  on  the  rock  just  in 
of  the  Saviour,  as  in  the  German  pictures  by  Cranach 
ichaeufelein  iu  the  Berlin  Gallery,  and  in  a  painting  in 
lermitage  Gallery,  attributed  to  Leandro  Bassatio  (da 
),     In   the    typical    composition,   however,  the    cup  is 

by  the  angel,  who  flies  down  from   the  upper  air  to 
it  it  to  the  Redeemer, 
e  paintings  of  Giotto  (Uffizi,'  Florence),  Bellini  (National 

ill  Giottu';!  svriKs  ill  tlie  Arena  Cliapel,  pBdua. 


THE   PASSION 


Th«  AKgny  iu  tbe 


Gallery,  London),  Perugiiio  (Florence  Acaiiemy),  Lo  Si>agnit 
(National  (iallery,  London),  illustrate  this  feature  in  the  ordi- 
nary way. 

Such  a  distortion  of  the  angel's  office  is  an  inexcusable  error 
of  interpretation,  and  the  misinterpretation  is  carried  a  step 


when  the  imgel  brings  a  cross  instead  of,  or  in  oj^B 
I  the  chalice.  DUrer's  Agoiiy,  in  tlie  Little  Passioii,  !■ 
niple  of  the  former  versiou,  and  Franz  Francken  II. 
.  Gallery),  Carlo  Uolci  (Pitti,  t'brenou),  and  Murillo 
e,  Paris),  exemiilify  the  latter.  Slill  another  version 
e  noted  ill  Gaiidenzio  Fercari'a  composition  (\"aralIo), 
the  Clip  is;  sutmounted  by  tlie  cross,  as  emblematic  of 
chariat.  Thb  thought  was  eiirrjed  out  still  more  boldly 
era,  as  in  both  Vasaion  series  of  IjUcaa  van  Leydeii. 
',  Bs  the  most  trivial  perversion  of  tlie  text,  the  place 
EUBtaining  augel  is  tilled  by  a  row  of  cherubs  present- 
3  instruments  of  the  I'a^sion.  'I'h'm  is  illiietratcd  in 
;na'B  Agony,  in  the  National  Gallery,  and  the  idea  was 
d  by  PouBsin. 

text  of  St.  Luke  gives  but  the  two  simple  facts  in  ra- 
the angel,  that  he  "  appeared  from  heaven,"  and  that 
ision  WB8  for  "strengthening," 

jio,  with  rfiverent  fidelity  to  the  Gospel,  had  ventured 
I  far  OS  to  show  tbe  angel  juiit  appearing  lu  the  heavens, 
13  a  pity  that  his  successors  should  not  have  imitated 
lerve.  The  only  instance  I  have  found  of  a  similar 
f  of  treatment  is  in  the  altar-piece  by  Iksaiti  in  the 
Academy.  Heje  the  angel,  still  hij^h  in  air,  a  small 
1  figure,  comes  flying  down  with  hands  outstretclied 
j  the  Saviour.  In  Leandro  Bassano's  picture  in  the 
«ge  Gallery,  Christ  leans  against  the  angel'a  knee,  sup- 
by  the  celestial  laesaenger.  In  Ary  Scheifer's  picture, 
B  his  imploring  bands  upon  the  angel's  arm. 
highest  point  of  interest  in  the  subject  of  the  Agony 
Garden  is  the  delineation  of  the  Redeemer.  It  is  one 
few  instances  in  a  life  of  perfect  self-control  where 
emotion  is  expressed.  A  subject  like  this  presents  a 
o  which  only  rare  genius  can  solve,  and  which  many 
ttempted,  only  to  show  their  inadequacy.  Such  na- 
16  Bellini,  I'erugino,  and  Carlo  Do  lei,  fail  entirely 
effort  to  realize   the   strong  ^ony  of  that  prayer  in 

imental  sorrow,  gentle  resignation,  these  are  easy  ajid 

it  themes,  but  a  soul's  anguish  is  not  easily  written  on 

Passing  over,  then,  without  further  comment,    the 

s    of  which  brief  mention   has  already  been   made,  we 


THE  PASSION  2o7 

should  mention  Correggio's  painting  in  the  Apsley  House, 
London,  as  one  of  the  pictures  of  the  subject  which  critics 
have  called  great.  It  is  known  chiefly  through  the  copy  in 
the  National  Gallery,  London.  The  whole  conception  is  dis- 
tinctly modern  in  spirit,  in  the  sense  that  it  is  not  based  at 
all  upon  any  traditional  ideas,  but  proceeds  de  novo.  At  the 
extreme  left  of  the  picture  Our  Lord  is  seen  in  full  front, 
kneeling  in  the  foreground,  with  the  angel  hovering  just  over 
him.  The  garden,  at  the  right  of  the  picture,  is  enveloped  in 
shadow,  in  which  the  three  disciples  lie  asleep,  and  beyond 
them  is  seen  the  approaching  crowd.  With  splendid  eff'ect  of 
chiaroscuro,  Correggio  has  concentrated  all  the  light  on  the 
figure  of  Christ,  shining  upon  him  in  the  heavenly  radiance 
on  which  the  angel  is  borne.  There  are  no  mechanical  de- 
vices of  cup  and  cross ;  such  accessories  would  be  superfluous 
here.  The  supreme  artistic  qualities  of  the  picture,  the 
poetic  simplicity  of  the  conception,  disarm  critical  analysis 
of  the  Christ  ideal.  The  expression  shows  the  result  of  the 
conflict  rather  than  the  conflict  itself. 

Tintoretto  (S.  Rocco  series,  Venice),  like  Correggio,  gives 
a  distinct  midnight  character  to  the  scene,  though  in  his  own 
way,  which  is  very  different.  The  moonlight  gleams  on  the 
mantles  of  the  disciples,  who  are  grouped  together  as  usual  on 
the  ground.  Peter  is  awake,  and  looking  towards  the  approach- 
ing soldiery,  but  the  others  are  still  asleep.  Meanwhile,  the 
Christ  on  a  higher  level,  partly  screened  by  intervening  foli- 
age, sits  leaning  his  head  wearily  on  his  hand,  a  perfect  imper- 
sonation of  loneliness. 

A  continuous  chain  of  pictures  has  extended  through  the 
seventeenth,  eighteenth,  and  nineteenth  centuries,  without 
adding  materially  to  the  interpretation  of  the  subject.  As 
exponent  of  modern  work,  we  have  the  compositions  of  the 
illustrated  Bibles,  Bida,  Dore,  Overbeck,  and  Tissot. 

Previous  to  making  the  drawings  for  the  Gospels,  Overbeck, 
in  1835,  painted  the  subject  of  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  for 
the  hospital  at  Hamburg.  His  biographer  (Atkinson)  de- 
scribes this  as  a  picture  deeply  impressive  for  its  quietude 
and  fervor. 

In  the  latest  rendering  of  the  subject  the  angel  is  altogether 
omitted,  and  the  outward  symbol  of  divine  help  is  in  the  ray 
of  light  which  breaks  through  the  heavens  towards  which  the 


THE   LIFE   OF  OUR   LORD   IN   ART 


'ioiir's  faco  is  liftod.  There  arc  examples  by  E.  S.  Liska. 
Hruiii  (ill  the  Hermitage  Gallery,  8t.  Petersburg),  and  by 
Hofiiiaiui.  Unfortunately  those  and  other  recent  pictures 
weakened  ])y  the  sentimentality  of  the  uiterpretation. 


CI.    TlIK    r>KTKAYAL    AND    ArRKST    OF    JeSUS  :    ChRIST 

LKi)  AWAY  Captive 

n«l  whilo  ho  yot  j^nako,  lo,  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve,  came,  and  with  him 
reat  luultitiide  with  [lanterns  and  torches  and  weapons],  from  the  chief 
sts  an<l  elders  of  the  |H'opIe. 

ow  he  that  lietrayed  him  j;ave  them  a  sign,  saying,  Whomsoever  I  shall 
,  that  same  is  he:  hold  him  fast. 

nd  forthwith  he  came  to  Jesus,  and  said.  Hail,  master;  and  kissed  him. 
nd  Jestis  said  unto  him,  FriemI,  Wherefore  art  thou  come  ?     Then  came 
r,  and  laid  hands  on  Jesus,  and  took  him. 

nd,  hehold,  one  of  them  [Simon  Peter]  which  were  with  Jesus  stretched 
his  Inuul,  and  drew  his  sword,  and  struck  a  servant  of  the  high  priest's, 
smote  off  his  ear.     [The  servant's  name  was  MaU*hus.] 
hen  said  Jesus  unto  him.  Put  up  again  thy  sword  into  his  place:  for  all 
:  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  with  the  sword. 

hiiikfvl  tljoii  Ih.il  I  raiuiot  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he  shall  prcsently 
'  me  more  than  twelve  legions  of  aii^-ls  ? 

lit  hnw  tlitii  >liall  the  M  riptuns  lie  fultilled,  that  thus  it  must  be  ?  — 
IT.  \xvi.  47  ')4,  with  insertions  from  John  xviii. 

Wliilo  yet  Our  Lord  ])raycd  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane, 
Honian  soldiery  was  approaching  his  quiet  place  of  retreat, 
lias  showing  them  the  way.  Identified  by  the  traitorous 
s  of  greeting,  Jesns  was  quickly  arrested  and  led  away 
dive,  l*et<M'  being  the  only  disciple  to  offer  any  resistance, 
'  rest  taking  ignominious  flight.  The  incident  has  been 
isitlered  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  events  leading  to 
'  cross,  and  is  commonly  found  in  the  notable  historical 
series  of  tlie  life  of  Christ,  going  as  far  back  as  mosaics, 
I  extending  through  the  sculpture  and  illuminations  of  the 
dia^val  period,  into  the  Ivcnaissance.  The  three  titles  given 
)ve  represent  tlie  tliree  distinct  moments  of  dramatic  ac- 
11,  some  one  of  whicli  is  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  the 
ist  in  selecting  liis  inoftf.  Occasionally,  but  rarely,  the 
ry  is  prolonged  in  two  compositions.  For  instance,  in  the 
saios  of  S.  A[)ollinare,  Havenna,  we  have  both  the  Betrayal 
1  (^hrist  led  away  Oaptive  ;  and  the  panels  of  the  early 
lognc  School,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  contain  the  two  sub- 


THE  PASSION  253 

jectR,    ("  1  r   t  nil  a  c  Hj,   to  n  eet   Sol  i  ers    ad  the    Kiss  ol 

Jiiilas.      Usually   a  s  ngle   corapo   t  o  i    sufticee  to    cover  all 

tlie  imp"  rtant    c  re  n   ti    ces        Iho    s  tt  ng     s  a    landscape 

with    so    6       U    at  o      of    the    b  ook    Led  on  vh  ch  ChrisI 


(Ghiherti) 


crossed  to  enter  the  garden.  Our  Lord  stands  in  the  centn 
surrounded  by  a  company  of  men  bearing  "  lanterns,  torches 
and  weapOQs,"  his  calm,  fine  face  brought  into  vivid  opposi 
tion  with  the  evil  face  of  Judas.  At  one  side,  Peter  fall 
fiercely  upon  Malchus,  raising  his  sword  to  the  latter's  ear 
This  act  of  impulsive  valor  has  always  been  rendered  witl 


Biit  relisli,  aa  a  tribute  to  ths  linnor  of  the  Prince 
(ties.  On  t)iR  other  hHuiJ,  the  Hight  of  tlic  diaeipleB 
lly  politely  ignoreil,  as  detrimental  to  the  proper  reverence 
the  apostles ;  Duccio  is  one  of  tlie  Jew  who  frankly  por- 
!  this  incident  of  the  story.  Another  point  ordinarily 
ted  from  the  treatment  of  the  Bubjpiit  in  the  well-known 
«  is  the  prostration  of  the  gnarcle  before  the  calm  asser- 
of  Jeans,  "  I  am  he."  This  incident,  related  by  Ht.  John 
,  was  made  prominent  in  the  miniatures  of  old  nianu- 
tk,  htit  does  not  appear  in  later  forme  of  art. 
he  kiss  of  Judas  is  tJie  most  frequent  motif  in  the  fol- 
Dg  era  among  the  early  Italians,  and  we  may  refer  to 
Serti,  Giotto,  and  Duccio  for  typical  examples  of  their 
jd.  With  all  these  artists,  tbe  success  of  their  comiiosi- 
I  is  due  to  the  distinctness  which  they  give  to  the  two 
pal  and  contrasting  figures,  iuterwoveuj  as  it  were,  in  em- 
S,  Each  has  his  own  theory  of  the  traitor's  character. 
1  Giotto  (Arena  Chapel,  Pailua),  he  is  brutal  and  stupid, 
a  head  shaped  like  an  idiot's ;  witli  Dnccio  (Upera  del 
mo,  Siena),  lie  is  crafty,  cunning,  deceitful,  clasping  his 
5er  in  a  sinuous  fawning  embrace.  Gbilierti  (I'lorenoe 
iistery  gate)  avoids  the  difficulties  of  int«rpretAtion  by 
inting  his  figure  in  a  rear  view,  so  that  we  cannot  see  hia 
but  the  fitrong  detaining  arm  he  throws  about  the  Saviour 
eaka  tlio  evil  determination  of  tlie  man.  All  three  artists 
j  upon  the  gentle  submissiveneBs  with  which  Jesus  yields 
lelf  into  the  hands  of  the  false  disciple.  In  spite  of  his 
tneas,  however,  there  iq  a  moral  recoil  from  contact  with 
which  Ghiberti  quite  evidently  intends  to  convey  in  the 
of  the  figure.  Fra  Angelica,  with  his  usual  sbrinking 
the  portrayal  of  a  wicked  face  or  an  evil  tlionglit,  fol- 
(in  the  Florence  Academy  series)  Gliiberti  in  the  general 
of  Judas,  so  that  by  presenting  the  traitor  partly  in  rear 
the  face  is  not  fully  seen. 
I  the  fresco  at  S.  Marco  the  gentle  paint«r  adopts  stilt 
her  expedient  by  representing  the  later  moment  of  the 
lent,  namely,  Christ  led  away  Captive,  Our  Lord  is 
between  two  soldiers,  to  whom  a  priest  gives  orders.  It 
iffioult  to  identify  positively  the  figure  behind  one  of  the 
;ers  as  the  recreant  disciple. 

he  German  Passion  artists  seem  equally  iliviiii'd   iu  their 
M  of  subjects  from  this  incident. 


ice  I 


THE   PASSION  2t)l 

Dlirer  selects  the  Kiss  of  Judas  for  the  Little  Passion,  and 
Christ  taken  Captive  for  the  Greater  Passion.  Lucas  van 
Leyden  in  both  his  Passion  series  shows  Judas  in  the  act  of 
giving  the  kiss,  but  also  describes  the  vigorous  measures  taken 
simultaneously  by  the  soldiers  to  secure  their  prisoner. 

Schongauer's  subject  is  very  distinctly  Christ  led  away 
Captive,  and  is  treated  with  painful  realism.  A  rope  has 
been  noosed  about  Our  Lord's  neck,  and  passes  over  the 
shoulder  of  a  soldier  who  goes  in  advance,  dragging  his  pris- 
oner after  him  by  the  garments.  One  man  seizes  each  arm, 
and  still  another  grasps  him  by  the  hair.  Judas  is  seen  in 
the  rear,  his  face  turned  in  the  opposite  direction. 

There  is  a  notable  painting  of  the  Betrayal,  by  Van  Dyck, 
in  the  Prado  Gallery,  Madrid.  Under  the  spreading  brajiches 
of  a  great  tree,  in  whose  shadows  the  flickering  torches  gleam, 
Our  Lord  is  seized  on  either  side,  as  Judas,  holding  his  hand, 
leans  forward  to  give  the  kiss.  The  face  which  the  Saviour 
turns  upon  his  captor  is  radiant  with  celestial  beauty,  as  a 
beatific  vision  shining  on  the  fierce  hatred  of  his  enemies. 

Of  modern  pictures  there  is  none  specially  notable  except 
the  painting  by  Hofmann,  in  the  Darmstadt  Museum.  In  this 
the  artist  has  followed  the  German  precedent  in  depicting  the 
scene  following  the  Betrayal.  The  arrest  has  already  been 
made  and  the  company  proceeds  on  its  way,  the  Pharisees  in 
the  lead.  Our  Saviour  is  in  the  midst,  his  hands  bound  to- 
gether with  a  rope  which  is  carried  by  a  coarse-faced,  helmeled 
soldier.  After  him  come  the  other  officers,  and  in  the  distance 
are  Peter  and  other  disciples.  Judas  lingers  at  a  little  vine- 
covered  trellis  at  the  left  side,  gazing  after  the  procession.  It 
is  towards  him  that  Our  Lord's  last  sorrowful  glance  is  directed 
as  he  goes  on  his  way.  Turning  about  to  look  well  at  the 
traitor,  his  face  is  presented  to  the  spectator  in  full  front, 
and  is  full  of  a  tender  reproach  before  which  the  false  dis- 
ciple fairly  cowers. 

By  Ary  Scheffer  (1857),  there  is  a  picture  of  Christ  and 
Judas,  which  is  a  companion  piece  to  Christ  and  St.  John. 
Here,  as  in  the  other,  we  have  no  accessories,  but  merely  a 
portrait  study  of  the  two  faces  brought  close  together.  Christ, 
sorrowful,  yet  resigned ;  Judas  darkly  sinister. 


JlSSJil      A4MJSJU      \JS      'VrVA»     JUMMhMJ     Xi>^ 


XIL  Chbist  befobb  Akkas 


I  [they]  led  him  aw»y  to  Annas  fint;  for  he  wu  Ittiier  In  Isw  to  Caia* 
which  WM  the  high  priest  that  same  year.  -^  Johx  xviii.  IS. 

lie  trial  of  Jesus  consisted  of  five  different  hearings : 
before  each  of  the  priests,  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  once 
:e  Herod,  and  twice  before  Pilate,  As  these  incidents  are 
)  similar  from  an  artistic  standpoint,  it  is  tedious  to  indnde 
L  all  in  a  single  series,  and  this  is  seldom  done.  Christ 
re  Annas  is  the  most  easily  omitted  without  breaking  the 
inuity  of  thought.  It  is  understood  that  the  latter  and 
phas,  his  son-in-law,  shared  the  office  of  high-priest  in 
non,  and  the  hearings  before  these  two  form  substantially 
matter.  The  following  series  contain  the  only  examples 
1  find  of  the  subject  treated  separately :  Duccio's  series  at 
a,  DUrer's  Little  Passion,  Lucas  van  Leyden's  Bound 
ion  series,  and  the  chapels  of  Sacro  Monte,  Yarallo. 
uccio's  composition  represents  the  interior  of  a  hall,  with 
as  seated  at  the  left  on  a  sort  of  bishop's  throne.  Christ 
d  in  by  the  same  company  of  men  who  are  seen  in  the 
jding  scene  of  the  Capture.  He  stands  passively  before 
high-priest,  his  hands  bound,  listening  patiently  to  the 
nan's  discourse. 

lirer's  picture  is  a  scene  of  shocking  brutality.  Annas 
on  a  canopied  throne  in  the  rear,  facing  out,  while  the 
m  is  dragged  up  a  stairway  in  the  foreground  by  two 
ious  soldiers. 

he  subject  of  Lucas  van  Leyden's  print  is  unmistakably 
ped  upon  it  in  the  name  Annas  on  the  high-priest's  throne, 
bearer  of  the  name  is  an  old  man,  at  whose  side  are  two 
idants  (perhaps  the  false  witnesses),  one  of  whom  bends 
luatingly  over  his  superior.  As  the  meek  prisoner  is  led 
yr  the  soldiers,  two  little  children  look  at  him  wonderingly. 
s  St.  John  is  the  only  Evangelist  who  mentions  the  hear- 
before  Annas,  and  is  also  alone  in  the  reference  to  the 
ier  who  smote  Christ  on  the  cheek  as  he  replied  to  the 
it's  questions,  the  latter  incident  is  introduced  into  the 
3sentation  of  Christ  before  Annas,  in  the  representation 
ig  the  chapels  of  Sacro  Morite,  Varallo. 


THE  PASSION  263 

XIII.   Christ  before  Caiaphas 

And  they  that  had  laid  hold  on  Jesus  led  him  away  to  Caiaphas  the  higl 
priest,  where  the  scribes  and  the  elders  were  assembled. 

Now  the  chief  priests,  and  elders,  and  all  the  council,  sought  false  witness 
against  Jesus,  to  put  him  to  death; 

But  found  none:  yea,  though  many  false  witnesses  came,  yet  found  the} 
none.     At  the  last  came  two  false  witnesses. 

And  said.  This  fellow  said,  I  am  able  to  destroy  the  temple  of  God,  and  t( 
build  it  in  three  days. 

And  the  high  priest  arose,  and  said  unto  him,  Answerest  thou  nothing ', 
what  is  it  which  these  witness  against  thee  ? 

But  Jesus  held  his  peace.  And  the  high  priest  answered  and  said  unto  him 
I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that  thou  tell  us  whether  thou  be  the  Christ, 
the  Son  of  God. 

Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Thou  hast  said:  nevertheless  I  say  unto  you,  Here 
after  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  com 
ing  in  the  clouds  of  heaven. 

Then  the  high  priest  rent  his  clothes,  saying.  He  hath  spoken  blasphemy 
what  further  need  have  we  of  witnesses?  behold,  now  ye  have  heard  hi: 
blasphemy. 

What  think  ye  ?  They  answered  and  said,  He  is  guilty  of  death.  —  Matt 
xxvi.  57-66. 

Christ  before  Caiaphas  is  the  subject  properly  following  the 
Betrayal,  and  dates  its  historical  origin  as  an  art  subject  back 
to  very  early  series.  I  find  it  among  the  engravings  of  sarco- 
phagus bas-reliefs  in  Garrucci's  "  Storia  della  Arte  Cristiana," 
and  on  the  eleventh  century  doors  of  S.  Zeno,  Verona.  Though 
not  so  ancient  a  subject  as  Christ  before  Pilate,  and  never, 
like  it,  treated  independently,  it  has  an  equal  importance  in 
the  serial  treatments,  and  often  where  space  is  given  to  only 
one  trial  scene  it  is  the  preferred  subject. 

This  is  the  case  in  Giotto's  series  of  the  Arena  Chapel 
Padua,  in  Fra  Angelico's  series  of  the  Florence  Academy,  anc 
in  one  of  Lucas  van  Leyden's  series  of  prints.  The  setting  it 
a  judgment  hall,  at  one  side  of  which  the  high-priest  sits  ir 
state.  The  soldiers  bring  in  Christ  bound,  and  the  compan} 
stand  opposite  Caiaphas.  In  addition,  it  is  proper  to  intra 
duce  the  figures  of  the  two  false  witnesses. 
'  Caiaphas  is  usually  seen  rending  his  garments  in  professec 
horror  at  the  prisoner's  blasphemy.  Frequently,  also,  em 
phasis  is  laid  upon  the  officer  who  struck  Jesus  with  the  pain 
of  his  hand,  saying,  "  Answerest  thou  the  high-priest  so  ?  ' 
(John  xviii.  22.) 


e  may  depend  upon  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  features 

itinguisli  this  from  annlogouB  suhjects. 

ben  we  have  both  in  a  single  composition,  aa  in  Giotto's 

1  and  Schongauer's  print. 

le   opposition  between  the  judge  and   the  prisoner,  and 


THE   PASSION  265 

uhe  latter^s  attitude  under  condemnation,  are  the  points  in 
which  the  artist  finds  the  opportunity  for  distinction. 

Duccio  (Passion  series  at  Siena)  is  especially  good  in  con- 
trasting the  meekness  of  the  Saviour  with  the  hypocrisy  of  the 
old  priest. 

Giotto  is  peculiarly  successful  here  with  his  Christ  ideal, 
the  impersonation  of  calm,  inherent  superiority.  The  idea  of 
the  two  priests  sitting  conjointly  in  the  position  of  authority 
is  borrowed  from  older  art,  the  same  device  being  used  in  a 
bas-relief  on  the  brass  door  of  the  Benevento  Cathedral. 

Fra  Angelico  fails  here,  as  usual,  in  any  attempt  to  present 
a  vivid  contrast.  The  Christ,  meek  and  gentle  as  he  is,  is 
hardly  less  mild  in  his  expression  than  the  high-priest,  who 
regards  him  steadily.  The  German  treatment  of  the  subject 
is  like  the  Italian  in  general  features,  except  that  the  action 
of  Caiaphas  in  rending  his  garments  may  be  slightly  less  com- 
mon, and,  instead,  the  high-priest  gestures  towards  the  prisoner. 
It  may  be  understood  that  the  German  coarseness  never  omits 
the  cruel  act  of  the  soldier. 

In  other  respects,  however,  the  subject  is  perhaps  the  most 
dignified  and  the  least  painful  of  the  Passion  cycle  in  northern 
art.  Holbein's  drawing  in  the  Basle  Museum  is  especially 
interesting  in  motif,  showing  the  Saviour  turning  his  face 
mournfully  upon  the  soldier  who  smites  him.  This  is  seen 
also  in  Giotto's  fresco,  but  is  not  common. 

The  denial  of  Peter,  which  occurred  while  Christ  was  on 
trial  in  the  high-priest's  palace,  sometimes  makes  a  subject 
in  the  serial  treatment  of  the  Passion.  Duccio,  with  careful 
analysis,  places  the  first  denial  in  the  compartment  below  the 
Trial  before  Annas,  the  two  rooms  being  connected  by  a  stair- 
case, giving  the  impression  of  simultaneity  of  occurrence.  The 
second  denial  is  just  outside  the  door  in  Christ  before  Caiaphas, 
and  the  third,  likewise  outside  the  door,  in  the  Mocking.  As 
the  incident  belongs  more  properly  to  the  treatment  of  the  life 
of  the  apostle,  it  is  discussed  in  Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Sacred  and 
Legendary  Art,"  p.  190. 


[  jLiv.  ins  Qtooxnra 

]  Ihe  mvn  that  hrld  Juiui  mn«ki?<l  lilin,  unci  !^muie  him, 

1  wlicii  tliev  bad  1ili»<lfi>lilv.1  lilm,  Ihi'V  '■Irtiik  lilin  on  Uil-  tace,  siid  lukcd 

uyiiig,  I'ruptiVK.v,  whn  U  il  Ihni  i^inuii'  ilifv  1 

1  man]'  oilier  lliingn  UaE|>l>viiiuu9lv  K^wke  Iticy  against  liim.  —  l,UKti 

B3-C6, 

wdemnod  as  wui'thy  nf  death  by  all  who  were  present  at 
heating  before  Cukphaa,  Christ  was  tiiereupnu  made  the 
it  of  uii  huur'H  cruel  mockery  amcing  the  Holdierd  holding 

iu  custody.  This  subject,  tliough  eo  eutirely  luisuitable 
epresButution,  both  from  ii  reli^'ioiis  ttud  artistic  point  of 
,  was  early  seiiied  upon  1iy  tlie  piuvis  zeal  of  those  raedi- 
ai'tists  who  sought  to  impress  upon  tho  iiiiaginatiuu 
f  detail  (jf  Ohrist's  mifferiug. 

appears  among  the  illuminated  manuscripts,  though  not, 
ould  judge,  as  common  there  as  the  Flagellation.  Later 
ild  a  recognized  place  in  all  prominent  historical  series, 
ffhei'e  space  is  so  limited  as  to  make  a  choice  necessary 
een  this  and  the  analogous  subject,  it  usually  yields  to 
latter.  Each  one  of  the  Evangelists  has  in  turn  been 
I  tlie  basis  of  the  mode  of  representation.  As  St,  Mat- 
■  says  nothing  about  Christ's  face  being  concealed,  some 
ts  leave  it  uncovered.     St.  Mark  speaks  as  if  the  entire  face 

covered,  henoe  some  have  rendered  it  in  this  way.  Tbe 
t  and  must  permanent  art  version  is  in  accordance  with 
Luke's  Gospel,  and  shows  him  blindfolded.  Sometimes 
jyes  are  seen  plainly  through  the  bandage,  as  a  mystical 
easion  for  divine  omuiHcienee.  This  is  the  method  of  Fra 
ilico  in  his  panel  of  the  aeries  in  the  Florence  Academy, 
it  is  here  seated  on  a  genuine  throne,  in  the  centre  of  the 
ire,  in  a  pose  of  regal  dignity.     The  painter  did  not  in- 

that  the  spectator  should  forget  for  a  moment  the  higher 
fioance  of  the  mock  ceremony, 

I  Duccio'a  composition  of  the  Siena  series,  Christ  is  still 
ling  in  the  judgment  hall  of  Caiaphas,  who  remains  seated 
is  throne.  Other  painters  introduce  Caiaphas  standing  by 
I  on-looker,  but  remove  the  scene  to  another  apartment, 
ha.  Angelico's  picture,  Caiaphas  is  seen  in  a  rear  view  at 
left,  resting  one  liand  on  his  hip  as  he  contemplates 
proceedings.     Doubtless,  also,  Holbein   intended  for  the 


THE    PASSION 


207 


iigh  pnest  a  tall  witch  like  spectator  in  hia  drawing  (BasU 

Museun  ) 

lu  Lucas  van  L^yden  s  composition  in  his  Round  Passion 
there  is  a  group  of  distinguiehed  on  lookiirs  m  tliti  rear  In 
other  CBSBB,  Chnst  la  seated  alone  amuut  tl  e  soldiers   as  ii 


^XJ^       r^ 

wnf- 

'l 

W^M* 

V  1 

iH. 

mil  ^^ 

m^ 

Pi 

■ 

%j3 

""^^tf 

m 

\1    k    ►,    Fra  Anuvl 

Giotto's  fresco  (Arena  Chapel  series)  and  Dlirer's  wood-cut 
of  the  Little  Passion. 

The  iudigiiitieH  heaped  upon  him  nre  variously  expressed, 
and  range  all  the  way  from  merely  fooHsh  jeering  to  actual 
and  cruel  violence.  One  soldier  raises  tlie  hand  to  strike  him, 
another  thrusts  a  stick  towards  liim,  and  others  peer  mockingly 
into  his  face  or  bend  the  knee  to  him.  A  curioiis  device  for 
tormenting  is  the  horn  sometimes  carried  by  ono  of  the  men 
to  blow  derisively  into  Christ's  ear.  This  is  seen  in  Frsi 
Anjtelico'a  panel  and  in  DU rat's  wood-cut  of  the  Little  Passion. 

Christ  mocked  ia  the  subject  of  a  very  striking  picture  by 
the  modem  Italian  painter,  Bomenico  Morelli. 


XV.  Chbist's  First  Appearance  before  Pii:.ate! 

hen  the  morning  was  come,  all  the  chief  priests  and  elders  of  the  people 
counsel  against  Jesus  to  put  him  to  death.  —  Matt,  xxvii.  1. 
ten  led  they  Jesus  from  Caiaphas  unto  the  hall  of  judgment:  and  it  was 
r;  and  they  themselves  went  not  into  the  judgment  hall,  lest  they  should 
efiled;  but  that  they  might  eat  the  passover. 

late  then  went  out  unto  them,  and  said,  What  accusation  bring  ye  against 
man? 

ley,  answered  and  said  unto  him.  If  he  were  not  a  malefactor,  we  would 
lave  delivered  him  up  unto  thee. 

len  said  Pilate  unto  them,  Take  ye  him,  and  judge  him  according  to  yottr 
The  Jews  therefore  said  unto  him.  It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man 
iath: 

lat  the  saying  of  Jesus  might  be  fulfilled,  which  he  spake,  signifying  what 
ti  he  should  die. 

ten  Pilate  entered  into  the  judgment  hall  again,  and  called  Jesus,  and  said 
him,  Art  thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ? 

BUS  answered  him,  Sayest  thou  this  thing  of  thyself,  or  did  others  tell  it 
of  me  ? 

late  answered.  Am  I  a  Jew  ?   Thine  own  nation  and  the  chief  priests  have  . 
rered  thee  unto  me :  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

sus  answered,  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world:  if  my  kingdom  were  of 
world,  then  would  my  servants  fight,  that  I  should  not  be  delivered  to 
lews:  but  now  is  my  kingdom  not  from  hence, 
late  tlierefore  said  unto  him,  Art  thou  a  king  then  ?  Jesus  answered, 

1  sayest  that  I  am  a  king.     To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause 

2  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  tlie  truth.  Every  one 
is  of  the  truth  heareth  mv  voice. 

late  saith  unto  him,  What  is  truth  ?  And  when  he  had  said  this,  he  went 
igain  unto  the  Jews,  and  saith  unto  them,  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all. — 
N  xviii.  28-38. 

id  they  were  the  more  fjerce,  saying.  He  stirreth  up  the  people,  teaching 
ughout  all  Jewry,  beginning  from  Galilee  to  this  place.  —  Luke  xxiii.  5. 

Che  night  which  had  hegun  with  the  Passover  and  drew  to 
3nd  amid  the  coarse  insults  of  the  soldiers  was  now  passed, 
rning  dawned  only  to  bring  a  new  succession  of  painful 
tits  through  which  Our  Lord  was  yet  to  pass.  The  first 
seeding  was  to  lead  him  to  Pontius  Pilate.  This  prelimi- 
y  hearing  was  not  of  course  of  so  grave  an  importance  as 

final  interview  with  the  governor,  and  hence  it  is  not  so 
ular  an  art  subject.  In  Duccio's  elaborate  series  at  Siena, 
omes  in  due  course,  as  of  equal  importance  with  the  other 
)s  of  the  narration.  Adhering  conscientiously  to  the  Gospel 
St.  John,  the  Sienese  painter  leaves  the  Jews  just  outside 

judgment  hall  —  which  is  an  open  portico  supported  by 


THE   PASSION  269 

slender  pillars,  —  while  Pilate  receives  the  prisoner  unattended 
save  by  his  guard.  The  Roman  governor  is  seated  at  the  left, 
on  a  low  platform,  wearing  as  a  sign  of  his  nationality  the 
wreath  of  bay  which  is  often  seen  in  the  busts  of  the  Roman 
emperors. 

In  Diirer's  Little  Passion,  Christ's  first  appearance  before 
Pilate  was  chosen  by  an  unusual  mark  of  preference,  instead 
of  the  second  appearance.  The  moment,  however,  is  not  the 
private  hearing,  but  the  approach  of  the  company.  Pilate 
stands  on  his  portico,  in  the  background,  having  just  come  out 
to  meet  the  people.  Our  Lord  is  seen  in  profile,  in  the  left 
corner  of  the  foreground,  entering  the  scene  between  two 
soldiers. 

As  the  result  of  the  hearing  Pilate  could  find  no  fault  in 
the  prisoner,  and  this  conclusion  he  communicated  to  the  chief 
priests  and  the  people.  This  subject  follows  Christ  before 
Pilate  in  Duccio's  series,  but  is  rare  in  art. 

In  the  Sacro  Monte,  Varallo,  one  of  the  chapels  is  devoted 
to  this  scene  of  Christ  before  Pilate,  the  governor  having  al- 
ready interrogated  the  prisoner,  and  being  now  in  the  act  of 
announcing  the  result  to  the  waiting  scribes  and  priests. 

XVI.  Christ  before  Herod 

When  Pilate  heard  of  Galilee,  he  asked  whether  the  man  were  a  Galilaean. 

And  as  soon  as  he  knew  that  he  belonged  unto  Herod's  jurisdiction,  he  sent 
him  to  Herod,  who  himself  also  was  at  Jerusalem  at  that  time. 

And  when  Herod  saw  Jesus,  he  was  exceeding  glad ;  for  he  was  desirous  to 
see  him  of  a  long  season,  because  he  had  heard  many  things  of  him ;  and  he 
lioped  to  have  seen  some  miracle  done  by  him. 

Then  he  questioned  with  him  in  many  words;  but  he  answered  him  nothing. 

And  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  stood  and  vehemently  accused  him. — 
Luke  xxiii.  6-10. 

Amid  the  angry  expostulations  which  greeted  Pilate's  favor- 
able verdict  upon  the  captive  Jesus,  the  name  of  Galilee 
arrested  the  governor's  attention.  Here  was  a  pretext  for 
disposing  of  a  difficult  case,  by  referring  it  to  the  visiting 
king  of  that  province ;  accordingly  Jesus  was  forthwith  led 
to  Herod  Antipas. 

Christ  before  Herod  is  not  a  common  art  subject,  belonging 
only  to  a  detailed  treatment  of  the  Passion.  I  find  examples 
in  the  following  series :   by  Duccio  in  the  Opera  del  Duomo, 


1,  in  the  aeries  from  thn  old  Colofjnfi  school,  in  llif  Ilerlin 
ery,  by  Dlirer  in  the  Little  I'aasion,  and  in  the  ehapela 
le  Sacro  Monte,  Varallo.  The  composition  has  tlie  same 
ral  characteristics  of  the  other  trial  eceneSj  without  any 
ally  interesting  featuta  to  diatinguiah  it.  Herod  usually 
B  a  crown  and  carries  a  sceptre.  Christ  is  attended  as 
;e  by  a  guard,  and  is  also  accompanied  by  the  Jevre,  who 


THE   PASSION  271 

"  vehemently  accuse  "  him.  He  stands,  with  hands  bound,  in 
patient  resignation. 

In  Duccio's  panel,  the  hands  are  tied  in  front  of  him ;  ir 
DUrer^s  wood-cut  they  are  behind. 

I  have  never  seen  any  separate  picture  of  the  subject. 

XVII.  Christ's  Last  Appearance  before  Pilate 

And  Herod  with  his  men  of  war  set  him  at  nought,  and  mocked  him,  anc 
arrayed  him  in  a  gorgeous  robe,  and  sent  him  again  to  Pilate. 

And  Pilate,  when  he  had  called  together  the  chief  priests  and  the  rulers  anc 
the  people. 

Said  unto  them.  Ye  have  brought  this  man  unto  me,  as  one  that  pervertetl 
the  people :  and,  behold,  I,  having  examined  him  before  you,  have  found  n( 
fault  in  this  man  touching  those  things  whereof  ye  accuse  him : 

No,  nor  yet  Herod:  for  I  sent  you  to  him;  and,  lo,  nothing  worthy  of  deatl 
is  done  unto  him. 

I  will  therefore  chastise  him,  and  release  him. 

(For  of  necessity  he  must  release  one  unto  them  at  the  feast.) 

And  they  cried  out  all  at  once,  saying.  Away  with  this  man,  and  release 
unto  us  Barabbas: 

(Who  for  a  certain  sedition  made  in  the  city,  and  for  murder,  was  cast  int( 
prison.) 

Pilate  therefore,  willing  to  release  Jesus,  spake  again  to  them. 

But  they  cried,  saying.  Crucify  him,  crucify  him. 

And  he  said  unto  them  the  third  time,  Why,  what  evil  hath  he  done  ?  j 
have  found  no  cause  of  death  in  him:  I  will  therefore  chastise  him,  and  le 
him  go. 

And  they  were  instant  with  loud  voices,  requiring  that  he  might  be  cruci 
fied.  And  the  voices  of  them  and  of  the  chief  priests  prevailed.  —  Luki 
xxiii.  11-23. 

When  Pilate  saw  that  he  could  prevail  nothing,  but  that  rather  a  tumul 
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.  — Matt,  xxvii.  24 

From  Herod,  Our  Lord  was  again  brought  back  to  the  judg 
ment  hall  of  Pilate,  and  a  sharp  conflict  ensued  between  th( 
mob  and  the  governor. 

This  final  appearance  before  Pilate  ranks  with  the  hearing 
before  Caiaphas  in  importance  among  these  last  scenes.  Ii 
serial  treatment  they  are  perhaps  equally  prominent  in  art,  bu 
for  historical  prestige,  Christ  before  Pilate  is  more  important 
having  been  popular  much  earlier. 

It  would  appear  that  during  Christ's  interview  with  th< 
governor,  the  chief  priests  and  Jewish  people  remained  out 
side  the  palace^  and  that  Pilate  went  and  came  to  speak  t( 


fm.  The  first  three  Kvaiigeliat.s  Jwell  ujKin  nis  ar^menl 
th  the  people,  while  St.  .tolm  givus  a  glimpse  into  ilie  pri- 
le  intecriew  between  the  Naxareiio  and  the  Roman. 
On  this  Mocouiit,  tlie  representations  of  the  etilyect  in  art 
iy  differ  somewhat  in  the  interpretntiuii  of  the  narrative, 
tecially  with  reference  to  the  number  of  psopli.'  present,  and 
I  place  of 'the  hearing,  The  first  form  in  which  tlie  subject 
portrayed  is  seen  in  the  bas-reliefs  of  early  Christiaii  sur- 
ih^.  In  these  groups,  the  number  of  iigures  varies  &om 
»e  to  seven.  In  the  aimplest  form  we  see  only  Ohiial^ 
late,  and  a  single  sjwctator.  Usually,  however,  Our  Loud 
the  one   side  is  attended  by  one  or  more  suldiers,  while 


.1:  (h«ri 


nphsgua) 


tate,  seated  opposite,  is  assisted  hy  n  servant  pouring  water 
»  a  basin,  and  a  spectator  looks  on.  The  distinguishing 
itures  of  the  occasion  are  Pilate's  wreath  of  bay,  and  the 
nn  (more  frequently  a  classical  urn)  standing  on  a  small 
lie  beside  him. 

The  governor  is  not  always  engaged  in  wasliing  his  hands ; 
is   rather   the    preceding  moment  of  perplexity,  when  he 


THE   TASSIOS 


POate  fDntorelh) 


rtstfl  Ilia  cheek  thougbtfully  on  his  b-uul  clis^ps  liii  bandl 
about  his>  kiipe  oi  f^eKtures  towardB  the  prisouer  l)ur  Lord 
in  the  meau  tuue  atimris  ^\attiDg  palieutly,  his  handh  as  yet 
imhound,  and  Buffering  none  of  the  common  prisoner's  indig 


The  earhest  compositions  I  can  mention  from  =eria!  treat- 
mont  jre  m  the  sixth  century  moiaica  of  S  ApoUmare  Nuovo 
Bavanna,  and  in  a  carved  ivory  book  cover  (Milan  Lathedral 


\r    IIIK    UJKV    lA 

1  period.  WhilK'  tlin  latter  U  of  \ha  1 
mtary  style,  ihe  former  y  like  tlie  otlier  compiisitions  of 
^t  series,  full  of  dramatic  interest,  aud  coDtaining  a  large 
mW  of  Hgiires.  Here  I'lliite  in  actually  performing  the 
mboliis  act  of  wanhing  liis  tmiiUE,  Christ  still  standiug  before 
n  na  if  on  trial. 

■Tliia  becamo  a  cnratiinTi  mnt if  nf  succeeding  artist*.  'Wis 
d  it  ill  Gerumriy  as  Into  as  Miirtin  8cliongauer^  in  his  eit~ 
ivings  of  the  Paiwion,  nud  in  Italy  as  late  as  Tintorotto,  in 
S  seriea  iif  S.  Kocuo,  Venice. 

The  Vmielian  paintin);  is  of  iuiurubI  interest  in  thu  series  in 
liuh  it  linds  plaue.  The  scftne  ia  the  open  air.  Just  outside 
3  Preelorium,  and  the  Roman  govBrnor  is  seutetl  on  the  plat- 
;m  of  the  palace  steps,  on  which  Chrisi.  ataiide,  held  prisoner 

a  rope  in  the  hands  of  a  soldier.  The  action  of  Pilate  is 
nmonplacc  Dipping  his  hands  into  the  water  which  the 
rvant  at  his  tight  pours  into  a  basin,  he  turns  about,  look- 
j  out  of  the  picture  to  apeak  to  a  man  addressing  him  from 
low.  His  act  thus  loses  much  of  its  intended  significance. 
IB  real  mtere.st  centres  at  once,  as  it  properly  nhould,  upon  the 
1  wraith-like  iigure  of  Christ,  a  thin  line  of  light  gleanuiig 

an  otherwise  dark  picture.  With  hands  bound  and  head 
at  pensively,  he  is  the  impereonation  of  loneliness,  of  an 
lation  made  infinitely  more  pathetic  by  the  presence  of  a 
wt  throng 

Iiong  before  the  time  of  fnitomtto  at  the  beginning  of  the 
irteenth  century,  Duciio  had  analj/fd  the  nnrrative  care- 
,ly,  and  had  separated  the  moment  of  (  hnst's  standing  be- 
«  Pilate  for  e-vaminatim  from  that  later  moment  of  Pilate's 
ol  decision  to  yipld  the  Jews  their  victim  while  he  washes 
I  handi  of  their  guilt       Wirdmgly  he  devotes  one  panel 

his  aeries  (f  )pera  del  Diiomo,  Siena)  to  the  "  ajjpearance  " 
fore  Pilate,  while  anottier  represents  Christ  led  away  by 
ws  during  Pilate's  hand-washing. 

This  second  motif  maki^B  quite  a  different  composition  from 
1  type  we  hrtve.,juBt  been  considering,  and  finds  further  iUns- 
tiona  in  German  art,  as  in  Holbein's  drawings  in  the  Bitsle 
iseum,  and  DUrer's  Little  Passion. 

la  these,  Pilate  is  the  principal  figure,  sitting  on  his  cano- 
d  throne  at  the  left,  with  servants  beside  him  holding 
iin  and  ewer,  Christ  is  seen  going  out  of  the  picture  at 
)  right,  led  away  between  soldiers. 


THE   PASSION  27c 

Separate  pictures  of  Christ  before  Pilate  have  souietimei 
been  painted,  this  being  the  only  trial  scene  thus  treated, 
There  is  one  in  the  Venice  Academy,  by  Benedetto  Cagliari 
(brother  of  Paolo  Veronese)^  and  another  in  the  Naples  Gal- 
lery, by  Andrea  Meldola  (Schiavone). 

A  celebrated  example  from  our  day  is  the  great  picture  oi 
Munkacsy  finished  in  1881,  which,  after  making  an  exhibition 
tour  of  Europe  and  the  United  States,  became  a  possession  oi 
Mr.  John  Wanamaker  in  Philadelphia. 

A  faithful  student  of  types  and  costumes  and  all  that  goes 
towards  the  making  of  an  effective  mise  en  scene,  the  artist  has 
nevertheless  made  an  historical  error  in  locating  the  scene  in 
the  Praetorium.  On  the  other  hand,  his  picture  tells  the  story 
better  than  it  would  if  literally  accurate.  His  subject  is  in- 
deed a  composite  of  the  entire  narrative,  an  epitome  of  the 
great  facts  which  led  to  the  Crucifixion.  It  presents  the 
Christian  religion  in  conflict  with  the  narrow  prejudices  of 
the  Jews  and  the  iron  tyranny  of  the  Romans,  with  the  sin 
and  ignorance  of  the  great  majority  shouting  "  Crucify  him  ! '' 
Pilate  is  given  the  bullet-shaped  head  and  the  stern,  hard 
features  which  we  associate  with  the  wor^t  of  the  Roman 
emperors.  He  sits  listening  intently  with  knitted  brows  to 
tlie  accusation.  Caiaphas  is  an  impersonatk)n  of  pharisaism, 
crafty,  clever,  pompous,  confident.  In  the  midst  of  his  ene- 
mies Christ  stands,  his  face  lifted  with  the  martyr's  exalta- 
tion, placid  and  unmoved,  but  with  no  suggestion  of  latent 
power,  and  making  no  appeal  to  sympathy  or  admiration. 


XVIII.  The  Flagellation  or  Scourging 

Then  Pilate  therefore  took  Jesus,  and  scourged  him.  —  John  xix.  1. 

The  verdict  of  the  multitude  had  been  against  Jesus,  and 
Pilate's  next  step  was  to  have  the  prisoner  scourged.  This 
subject  was  among  the  several  incidents  of  the  Passion  de- 
veloped in  the  mediaeval  period,  when  religious  sentiment 
stopped  short  of  nothing  as  too  painful  for  representation. 
In  my  investigation  it  has  seemed  rather  more  frequent  in 
manuscripts  than  the  Mocking,  and  appears  also  in  the  series 
on  the  doors  of  the  Benevento  Cathedral,  and  S.  Zeno,  Verona, 
and  on  the  column  at  Gaeta.     All  the  circumstances  are  sup- 


'  the  artut'ii  imaKiimtioti  und  am  sbocking  alike  to 
I  to  reTeniiL'o. 

supposed  that  Our  Lord  was  Btripped  aud  was  bound 
lands  to  a  pout  or  pilltiT,  lionte  the  frequent  title  of 
ject,  Christ  at  Ihn  ('olumii.  'I'tie  position  in  which 
m  is  placed  atTects  in  nume  nieBfiiK  tlie  horror  of  the 

ttlj  device  for  mitigating  the  paititnl  improsBJon  was 
partly  hiding  the  hguro  liehiud  tlic  pillar,  the  body 
;tached  on  the  further  side.  Thi§  was  followed  by 
a  the  Passion  series  ut  Siena. 

commonly,  Christ  is  m  front  of  nnd  back  to  the  pillar, 
le  spectator,  witli  hands  behind  liim. 
ne  German  series,  he  ataiids  at  one  siile  of  the  pillar, 
profile  with  face  turned  towanis  the  pillar,  the  ai-ins 
g  it,  as  in  DUrer's  Little  Passion  and  in  one  of  Van 
I  prints ;  ot  with  hack  to  the  pillar  and  hands  behind 
in  Van  Leydeii'a  Round  Passion.  The  scouring  is 
two,  sometimes  three  soldiers,  standing  on  either  side. 
:t,  as  will  be  noted,  is  much  more  painful  wlien  the 
nds  sidewise  than  when  facinji  out,  the  blows  in  the 
ie  being  directed  upon  the  back,  while  in  the  former 
le  of  them  tall  with  cruel  force  directly  in  front, 
the  most  painful  pictures  I  have  ever  seen  of  this 
Lg  subject  is  the  engraving  of  Mantegna,  where  Christ, 
1  one  side  of  and  back  to  a  pillar,  is  attacked  simul- 
y  in  front  and  rear  by  brutal  soldiers.  Apparently 
.e  aware  of  the  enemy  behind  him,  he  turns  to  look 
shoulder,  with  an  expression  of  intense  horror,  bend- 
wdy  forward  to  escape  him,  and  tlius  falling  the  more 
to  the  reach  of  the  scourge  in  front, 
.ngelico's  gentle  spirit  is  at  opposite  poles  to  the  vig- 
ilisni  of  Mantegna.  Two  slender  youths  timidly  raise 
)-like  rods,  their  brows  knit  as  if  with  shame  before  the 
ful  gaze  of  the  suffering  Saviour  (Florence  Academy). 
;  more  strictly  historical  treatment  of  the  scene,  Pilate 
it,  either  giving  the  order,  as  Duccio  represents  hira, 
ing  by  to  see  it  executed,  as  in  the  German  prints, 
ere  are  several  other  spectators. 

ge  as  it  may  seem,  the  Flagellation  lias  been  made  the 
)f  independent  paintings  in  the  decoration  of  churches. 


THE    PASSION 


whence  they  liave  filially  made  their  way  to  galleries.  Sue 
an  one  is  by  Signorelli  in  the  Brera  Gallery,  Milan,  originall, 
painted  for  the  monastery  of  S.  Maria  in  Vittoria.  The  artie 
makes  this  a  fine  stady  of  the  nude,  showing  the  exeeiitionei 
»  fully  stripped  as  their  victim.     The  fine  muscular  develop 


PHHBbc  t"i  Kieii  in  the  fnregroun'l  js  well  px)tib^to>l  in 
^  banding  ut  tboir  lithe  bodies,  and  llieir  rcUili»ti  to  tlie  ceu- 
«1  Kgiire  ia  tsiich  that  wo  scarcely  get  t}iK  iuipression  tbal- 
teir  blows  will  itijure  liiin.  The  ClirUt  Uim;w)[  ia  not  in- 
miled  us  all  object  of  comiioBsioii.  Jiis  well-n)uii*lcd  bodjr 
^ra  no  sign  of  HutTering,  atul  hia  face,  framed  tii  long,  vvtj 
lir,  drt>o|}s  piisively  rather  than  Borrowfully,  an  if  ijuite  ua- 
Bedful  of  hiK  BuiTouiuliiigs. 

Ill  the  881110  gallery  is  a  I'laypUatioii  by  Borgognotie,  froui 
le  Church  of  8,  Maria  del  Mui'ciUo,  Kabriano. 

Ill  the  Church  of  8.  Piotro  iii  MontoHo,  Rome,  SobuUttii 
^1  Piorobo  painted  the  FlsgoUalioii  below  the  TnLiisHgur&- 
on.  In  later  art,  we  occasioiinlly  find  the  subject  of  Cbrist 
Bund  to  the  Columu,  the  moment  being  that  preceding  the 
stual  Flagellation,  and  therefore  a  triHe  less  painful. 

There  is  such  a  picture  by  Botticini,  in  the  Belvedere  Qat 
ay,  Vienna,  and  another  in  the  Louvre  by  Le  Sueur. 

The  moment  following  the  I''lugellation  has  also  been  rapre- 
tnted.  There  ia  a  celebrated  painting  by  VelasqueK  in  tho 
rational  (Gallery,  London.  The  fainting  Saviour  is  seen  seated. 
a  the  floor,  his  bands  still  fettered  hy  the  rope. 

In  a  fresco  hy  Luini,  in  tlje  ChJesa  del  Moiiaatero  Majors, 
Elan,  the  Saviour  is  seen  being  unbound  from  the  column 
y  two  soldiers,  TIib  two  last  named  pictures  are  of  an  ideal- 
ad  devotional  order,  rather  than  actual  historical  lepresenta- 


XIX.  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns 

And  [Pilau]  delivered.  Jesnx,  nbcii  he  liad  Bcoiu^cd.  Itim,  In  lip  crucified- 

.And.  tb«  suldiers  I«d  him  xway  inlu  tlie  h«II,  cslleil  Pmliiviiun;  and  Ihey 

dl  Cogettier  the  whole  hand. 

And  they  ilulhed  liim  witii  purple,  anil  platteil  a  frowu  iif  ihorns,  and  put 

abduC  hia  head, 

And  began  to  islute  liira,  Hail,  King  of  the  Jevfal 

And  they  Braote  him  on  the  head  with  a  reeii,  and  did  tpit  upon  him,  and 

iwing  thpic  knees  woraliipped  him.  —  Mark  xv.  15-19. 

The  same  spirit  of  mockery  which  had  incited  the  soldiera 
Iter  the  hearings  before  Caiaphas  and  Herod  to  make  cruel 
wrt  of  their  prisoner  burst  forth  again  after  the  Flagellation, 
id  a  sott  of  mock  coronation  ceremony  furnished  the  new 


rsion.     Christ  crowiioil   witl]    Thorns  is   Um] 

he  subject  in  art,  aiul  it  probublj'  appeared  tint  among  tb)    I 
iieval  illiiminstcd  maiiiiHcripte.      It  brJoags  to  almost  all 
lion  wrios.  bnt  in  general  Iiiiitorical  aeries  of  ("hriat'a  life 

one  of  the  exceptional  siibjecte.  It  is  not  difficult  for 
casual  obtoiver  to  confuse  Ihe  subject  with  the  Mocking, 
jeering  attitudes  of  the  soldiers  being  the  Eamo  in  both 
positions. 

'he  crown  of  thorUR  should  make  a  diatiuguiahiug  feature; 
reed  sceptre  and  the  purple  or  scarlet  robe  are  also  promi- 
1.  When  these  points  are  noted,  wo  know  that  the  refer- 
I  is  to  the  incident  after  the  I'lagellation,  and  not  to  the 
lent  following  Christ  before  C'aiaphas,  however  misleading 
onfusing  the  title  of  artist  or  oommentHtor  may  be. 
hiccio'fl  panel  of  the  Hiena  Passion  eeriee  represents  the 
Sent  OS  taking  place  in  the  hall  of  the  Prtetorium,  where 
te  looks  on  from  his  throne.  Christ,  seated  in  the  centre, 
■s  with  tranquillity  the  sport  of  hie  tomieutorB,     One  is  in 

act  of  crowning  him  with  the  thorn  garland,  two  others 
te  him  on  the  head  with  long  reeds,  and  two  kneel  in 
it ;  just  outside  the  portico,  the  priesta  and  scribes  stand 
;ing. 

'he  later  Italian  type  composition  differs  from  this,  and,  like 
tto's  (Arena  Ohaiiel  series,  I'adun),  shows  the  soldiers  alone 
1  their  victim,  whom,  they  have  removed  from  the  hall  of 
^ent.  In  other  respects,  the  main  features  are  the  same, 
the  German  composition,  Pilate  is  invariably  present,  but 
ler  at  a  distance,  looking  on  phlegmaticallj.  As  in  the 
sr  Passion  subjects,  the  treatment  is  repellent  to  all  fine 
ing,  in  the  coarse  vulgarity  of  the  soldiers. 
;hrist  crowned  with  Thorns,  like  the  Flagellation,  is  an 
laional  subject  for  separate  treatment.  There  are  two  such 
ks  by  Titian,  one  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  and  another  in  the 
nich  Gallery.  In  the  Louvre  picture,  the  Saviour  is  seated 
he  corridor  of  a  stone  prison,  his  body  wrenched  into  a  dis- 
icd  posture  by  the  agony  he  is  undergoing  at  the  hands  of 

inhuman  tormentors.     Two  great  musc\i)ar  soldiers  drive 

crown  down  upon  his  head  with  heavy  pikes,  while  a  third 
;hes  forward  to  join  in  the  same  crvieltj'.  Another  spits  in 
face,  while  a  man  in  front  holds  the  prisoner's  hands  down 
ily.     In  point  of  composition,  the  Munich  picture  differs 


THE   PASSION  281 

only  in  the  omission  of  the  soldier  who  spits  in  Christ's  face, 
and  in  a  somewhat  different  action  on  the  part  of  the  man  in 
front.  The  character  of  the  scene  is,  however,  quite  dissim- 
ilar in  the  two  works  on  account  of  the  lighting.  In  the 
Louvre  picture  we  have  daylight,  while  the  Munich  picture 
is  shrouded  in  a  mysterious  gloom  lighted  by  the  flaring  jets 
of  a  candelabra.  The  Louvre  picture,  though  very  carefull}/ 
finished,  is  of  low  color  tone ;  the  other  glows  with  Titian's 
splendid  color  harmonies.  Painted  when  the  artist  was  ninet}/ 
years  of  age,  it  was  a  labor  of  love  for  his  own  delight,  and 
was  still  unfinished  in  his  studio  when  Tintoretto,  the  stor)/ 
goes,  begged  it  for  a  gift. 

The  two  paintings  are  indeed  great  works  of  a  great  mas- 
ter's great  old  age.  The  connoisseur  finds  in  them  all  the 
splendid  artistic  qualities  which  painters  desire  to  study  and 
imitate.  It  is  quite  another  question,  and  one  upon  which 
opinions  must  always  differ,  as  to  the  suitability  of  such  sub- 
jects for  art.  Unsurpassed  by  any  of  the  German  pictures  as 
an  exhibition  of  cruel  brutality,  there  is  nevertheless  a  re- 
finement of  feeling  in  the  handling  which  puts  them  on  quite 
a  different  plane.  They  are  like  nothing  in  art  so  much  as  the 
famous  Laococin,  and  the  same  theories  apply  to  both,  either 
for  or  against  such  productions. 


XX.    EccE  Homo 

Pilate  therefore  went  forth  again,  and  saith  unto  them,  Behold,  I  bring  him 
forth  to  you,  that  ye  may  know  that  I  find  nO  fault  in  him. 

Then  came  Jesus  forth,  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  the  purple  robe. 
And  Pilate  saith  unto  them.  Behold  the  man  !  — John  xix.  4,  5. 

After  the  mock  coronation,  Jesus,  still  arrayed  in  the  ap- 
parel of  a  king  and  wearing  his  crown  of  thorns,  was  brought 
forth  by  Pilate  for  a  final  appeal  to  the  people,  who  had  re- 
mained without  waiting  for  their  victim.  "  Behold  the  man," 
said  Pilate  to  the  assembly,  as  Jesus  came  forth,  and  these 
words  in  their  Latin  form,  £Jcce  Homo,  have  been  the  accepted 
title  for  the  art  representation  of  the  incident.  In  historic 
origin  it  is  apparently  not  so  old  as  the  other  connected  Pas- 
sion subjects,  not  found  with  them  in  the  eleventh  century 
bas-reliefs  or  even  in  illuminated  manuscripts.     The  earliest 


resentatian  1  have  seen  is  in  the  twelfth  ceutury  luosnics  of 
Uarco,  Venice.  Uur  Lord  stands  being  uul  iii  full  frout 
W,  carrying  the  recil  with  one  hand,  aiid  in  the  other  a 
ill,  on  which  is  inscribeil  "Spinis  coronat  aum  "  (I  am 
ff  lied  with  tburus).  On  each  side  stanile  a  jeering  figure, 
I  in  front  kneel  three  otliere.  Somewhat  in  the  rear,  Simon 
ads  waiting,  with  the  cross  over  his  shoulder,  and  at  one 
B  is  Pilate,  utagnificent  in  a  jeweletl  robe,  pointing  to  the 
lie  of  the  thorn-crowned  Saviour.  The  picture  is  an  ideal- 
1  treatment  of  the  subject,  combining  the  mock  coronation 
li  Pilate's  announcement,  and  suggesting  also  the  later 
ment  of  the  cross  bearing,  The  two  leading  figures  arc 
rist  and  Pilate,  and  the  eignilicant  gesture  of  the  llitter  gives 

germinal  idea  of  the  later  composition,  the  Kcce  Homo. 
i  real  popularity  of  the  subject  dates  from  the  later  fif- 
ath  and  early  sixteenth  centuries.     It  then  appears  in  all 

German  Passion  aeries,  in  the  frescoes  of  Gaudenzio  Per- 
1  at  Varallo,  and  of  Tintoretto  at  S.  Rocco,  Venice,  and  iji 
ansideruble  number  of  independent  pictures, 
k&  a  fully  developed  historical  subject,  the  scene  of  tlie 
!e  Homo  in  in  the  open  air,  where  the  people  are  gathered 
front  of  a  budding.  On  a  balcony  overlooking  the  place, 
letimes  at  tlie  top  of  a  flight  of  steps,  appears  the  figure  of 
C  Lord,  between  Pilate  and  a  soldier.  Thia  arrangement 
3gs  out  with  remarkable  force  the  real  dramatic  quality  of 

moment,  forming  an  artistic  and  religious  climax  to  the 
cession  of  trial  scenes.  The  Christ  has  been  previously 
light  into  the  presence  of  the  several  officials  who  from 
ir  high  positions  of  authority  ait  in  judgment  upon  him. 

is  now  preseiited  face  to  face  with  the  people  at  large,  and, 
the  subtle  suggestiveness  of  art,  his  elevated  position  oppo- 

them  gives  him  the  place  of  authority.  He  is  now  the 
ge,  and  the  shouting  crowd  below  are  condemned  even  as 
y  shout  "Crucify  him."  All  this  is,  of  course,  suggested 
jer  than  expressed  in  art.  Here,  as  in  other  Passion  sub- 
»,  the  higher  significance  is  often  obscured  by  the  pretlomi- 
.ce  of  physical  suffering.     There  is  really  no  excuse  for  this ; 

infliction  of  actual  pain  is  for  a  momeut  suspended ;  Jesus 
lere  the  Man  of  Sorrows  rather  than  of  physical  suffering, 
,  Oil  Leonanlo  has  taught  the  worlii  once  for  all,  sorrow 
(  still  }>e  majestic, 


THE   PASSION  283 

The  typical  composition  may  be  illustrated  from  Italian  art 
by  a  painting  by  Mazzolino  in  the  Dresden  Gallery.  This  is 
a  characteristic  work  of  a  master  whose  fondness  for  a  multi- 
plicity of  small,  well-finished  figures  was  more  Flemish  than 
Italian.  His  picture  is,  on  this  account,  interesting  to  the 
connoisseur,  but  not  illuminative  to  the  student  of  the  Gos- 
pels. Our  Lord  is  supported  between  two  men,  as  if  almost 
fainting  with  weakness,  and  this  interpretation  is  necessarily 
detrimental  to  the  proper  dignity  of  the  subject. 

Titian's  fresco,  in  the  S.  E-occo  series,  carries  this  vein  even 
farther  in  a  composition  which  is  as  different  as  possible  from 
the  ordinary  type.  Christ  lies  on  the  ground,  exhausted  with 
the  scourging,  and  Pilate  stands  over  him,  pointing  him  out 
to  the  people. 

At  a  later  date  (1543)  Titian  again  painted  the  subject  after 
the  more  ordinary  style  of  composition.  The  Roman  governor 
has  caused  Christ  to  be  brought  out  of  the  palace  door  at  the 
left,  and  exhibits  him  from  the  top  of  the  marble  steps.  The 
picture  has  many  of  those  characteristic  Venetian  elements 
which  so  charm  the  eye,  two  fine  horses  with  rich  trappings, 
men  in  armor,  banners,  spears,  etc.,  and  all  the  details  well 
composed.  The  Pilate  is  an  altogether  new  type.  Often  stern 
and  cruel,  he  is  nevertheless  usually  essentially  dignified,  but 
here  he  is  simply  a  jolly  good  fellow  treating  the  whole  affair 
as  a  joke.  The  Christ  is  the  same  figure  we  have  just  seen 
crowned  with  thorns,  with  refined,  handsome  features,  a  well- 
modeled,  robust  body  and  delicate  hands.  His  attitude,  as  in 
an  oft  repeated  motif,  is  that  of  stooping  forward,  as  if  pitifully 
weak  and  stumbling  (Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna). 

The  leading  idea  of  the  German  composition  is  to  emphasize 
the  physical  weakness  of  Christ  and  to  make  him  as  pitiable 
as  possible.  He  appears  bending  helplessly,  almost  about  to 
fall  forward  with  weariness.  A  single  description  would  apply 
equally  well  in  all  the  prominent  Passion  series,  and  would 
conform  to  the  general  outline  already  indicated,  whether  by 
DUrer,  Holbein,  Schongauer,  or  Lucas  van  Ley  den.  By  the 
last  named  engraver  there  is  a  celebrated  print  of  large  size, 
not  connected  with  any  series,  the  Ecce  Homo  of  1510.  This 
is  interesting  for  the  German  setting,  the  fine  distribution  of 
groups,  and  the  elaborateness  of  detail. 

The  seventeenth  century  produced  a  few  notable  pictures  of 


\  Kcce  iloiuo.  Tliere  U  oriu  in  the  I>rewleii  Gallery  liy 
rt  lie  UeMer  wUicli  immoUialcly  Bugge<itM  Kt^mbrandt,  both 
tlie  setting  iLiid  jji  thu  (.'hiist  ideal.  On  thu  hulcoiiy  of  u 
louiut  uuHtlu  Out  LonI  appears  aa  the  simple,  gentle  peasuut, 
)huut  cruwii  ur  meil,  Ins  hauUs  uiibouod  and  clai^ped  loosely 
'ok  hill),  hie  eyee  niised  to  heaven.  The  iieople  below 
ni  little  interested  either  in  Pilat«  or  the  ligure  to  which 
directs  their  attention. 

From  a  picture  §uggeBtiiig  the  roauner  of  Uemhrandt  we 
n  at  uiice  to  the  work  of  the  Dutch  master  hiineelf  to  see 
at  eHect  that  manner  may  produce  united  with  the  great 
^native  spirit.  This  is  the  etching  of  1636,  which  etiiken 
iigh  note  of  interpretative  power.  The  arrangement  is  ori- 
iial :  tlie  urowd  surges  out  On  the  steps  of  the  imperial  palace, 
tring  Chiist  in  the  midst,  whose  nohle  hgute  with  bared  breast 
vers  likt>  a  fine  marble  in  the  motley  cotnjiany.  His  face  is 
led  in  heavenly  communion,  as  if  entirely  unconscious  of  his 
soundings.  Just  in  front  of  him  is  a  group  of  Jews,  appeal- 
;  to  Pilat«  with  arguments  and  imprecations,  and  in  the  left 
ner  of  the  foreground  a  mass  of  heads  is  dimly  outlined, 
licating  a  turbulent  crowd  awaiting  impatiently  below. 
The  Eoee  Homo  is  the  subject  of  the  finest  work  of  the 
smish  painter  Adrian  van  der  Wertf,  and  the  picture  is  in 
1  Munich  Gallery.  Our  Lord  is  led  down  the  palace  steps 
the  soldiers,  and  is  greeted  by  a  group  of  women  below 
ih  violent  demonstration.  Filate,  seated  on  a  balcony 
>ve,  extends  both  arms  downwards  towards  the  prisoner,  and 
the  left  corner,  as  in  Itembratidt's  plate,  the  waiting  popu- 
e  are  dimly  descried.  The  figure  of  Christ  is  a  beautiful 
de,  scarcely  concealed  by  the  flowing  garment  which  is 
ight  together  at  his  shoulder.  His  face  has  delicately  cut, 
(h  bred  features,  and  his  hands  are  fait  and  slender  like  a 
man's.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  somewhat  sentimental  character 
lich  we  expect  to  find  in  tliis  artist,  the  picture  is  on  the 
,ole  nolily  conceived. 

The  historical  Ecce  Homo  of  recent  times  belongs  chiefly  to 
blical  series,  though  we  have  a  notable  example  of  a  separate 
;ture  m  Benjamin  West's  Christ  Rejected,  considered  by 
jd  critics  the  artist's  best  work.  The  picture  is  in  the 
nnsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  Philadelphia.  The  scene 
the  marble  paved  portico  of  a  palace,  thronged  with  u  great 


Ipaiiy  of  men,  winmn,  ami  chiHren.  Our  lioril  slarii]s  on 
[ight  elevation  at  Llie  kit,  fnniif;  tlie  great  company  tritlt 
n  Oignity.  Dii  tlit!  lower  atcjis,  in  tlie  centre  of  the  com- 
ition,  Hre  1'ilale  with  thi^  Roman  toga  ami  buy  wreath,  ami 
Bphas  with  prieBtly  rolics  and  the  great  breastplate,      IJotii 

geEticulatinft  violently,  the  governor  with  hands  stretchcil 
■Bfle  Christ  in  an  a|>peHl,  the  priest  throwing  his  unus  wide 
Xl  with  the  gesture  of  repudiation.     Munkacsy  hae  painted 

eame  sitlijeet  aa  the  third  in  his  series  of  Christ  pictures. 
B  style  of  yompositiou  follows  the  ordinary  type  of  balcony 
nee,  and,  like  his  other  wofUk,  the  characterization  of  the 
ited  populiice  is  full  of  vigoroiie  realistic  power. 
A,  painting  by  the  moilern  Italian  artist,  Ciseri,  has  attracted 
fiiderable  attention,  Th*i  ordinary  point  of  view  is  entirely 
eraed,  and  we  look  from  tlie  rear  of  the  balcony  upon  the 
B  where  the  crowd  is  gathered.  Pilate  leans  far  over  the 
ustrade  ]tointing  with  a.  backward  gesture  t<i  the  Man  of 
;rows,  wbo  stands  apart  in  lonely  dignity. 
An  idealised  rendering  of  the  Eccp  Homo  gives  us  only  the 
cony,  with  Christ  exhibited  there  by  Pilate.  The  specta- 
B  are  eliminated,  and  we  who  look  at  the  picture  are  in 
ir  places  called  \ipon  by  Pilate  to  behold  the  man.  Such 
teatment,  though  primarily  devotional  in  design,  may  often 
■der  closely  upon  the  theatrical,  with  Pilate  in  the  character 
a  clever  sliowman.  Admiration  centres  upon  the  beautifully 
deled  torso  of  Christ's  figure,  as  attractive  aa  that  of  the 
rtyred  St.  Sebastian.  The  most  celebrated  examples  of  this 
]e  of  picture  are  by  Cigoli  in  the  Pitti  Gallery,  Florence, 
I  artist's  masterpiece  ;  by  Correggio  in  the  National  Gallery, 
ndon  ;  by  Titian  in  the  Prado  Gallery,  Madrid,  and  by  Ary 
leffer.  Such  pictures  are  frequently  described  and  are  much 
Te  widely  known  than  the  historical  repreeentations. 
The  subject  is  still  further  idealized  when  we  have  only  the 
»m-crowned  bead  of  the  Saviour  wearing  an  expression  of 
fering  resignation.  Such  heads  were  extremely  popular  in 
I  seventeenth  century,  and  Guido  Eeni  literally  manufac- 
ed  them  in  the  quantity.  They  were  also  common  in  the 
aniah  school,  and  there  are  examples  by  Murillo  and  Mo- 


THE   PASSION 


XXI.  Christ  led  to  Calvary 


And  he  beaping  his  cnws  went  forth  into  a  place  call 
which  is  called  in  tlie  Ht?brew  (lolgotha.  —  John  xix. 

And  a«  they  led  him  away,  they  laid  hold  U|M)n  o 
coming  out  of  llie  country,  and  nn  htm  they  laid  the  ci 


d.  And  they  tooh 
>e  place  o[  a  skull, 
imon.  a  Cjreni, 


might  h. 


And  there  fiillowrd  liiin  a  great  company  of 
also  bewailcil  and  lamenteil  him. 

But  JemiH  tiiniiiig  nnio  them  said,  Daughte 
me,  hut  weep  for  yourselves,  and  tor  your  chili 


The  events  of  the  day  had  moved  rapidly  to  a  culmination 
Pilate  Ijad  delivered  up  the  prisoner  to  be  crucified,  and  it  onl} 


remained  to  lead  him  to  a  spot  outside  the  city  for  this  pur 
pose.  Then  began  what  ia  called  the  "  procession  "  or  journej 
to  Calvary.  Our  Lord  had  already  been  divested  of  his  mod 
finery,  and,  clad  in  his  own  raiment,  led  the  procession,  o 
which  St,  Luke  draws  a  vivid  word  picture. 


^^^Bt  subject,  Christ  Icl  to  Cnlvary  lin!^  nn  origin  uuJ 
p^^Mclly  corrospotirling  to  tW  liclrnynl.  Like  t]|elatt«r, 
piHwreil  ill  Iho  tnomics  nf  K.  Apullinnri^  Nuovo,  Ravenna, 
I  period  nnt«tlatiug  tlic  goiipini  introJiiclioii  of  I'aseion  sub- 
is,  and  from  thai  liiiit)  on  it  ocems  to  haw  bucii  considered 
indispensable  subject  in  the  liistoriviil  tr«utnient  of  Christ's 

[u  SL  (loliii'fi  uucouiit,  Jesus  is  referred  to  as  himself  hearing 
cross,  while  the  other  Rvaiigelinte  re]al«  that  the  biirdeji 
I  laid  ii|H>ii  Siiuoii  tlie  ('^reninn.  The  inference  is  that  it 
I  carried  BUccessively  by  tho  two, 

[n  the  earliest  repreaeiitation  I  have  seen,  namtdy,  the 
Mic  of  S.  ApoUinaro  Nuovo,  the  three  Synoptic  Gospels 
followed,  and  the  Cyn^nion  carries  the  cross,  walking  he- 
i  the  Saviour. 

[»  the  following  eeiituries,  down  to  the  time  of  Biiccio, 
choice  seems  to  liave  heen  distributed  between  Jesus  and 
ion,  as  the  cross-bearer,  autiording  as  the  design  was  to  eiu- 
isize  tbe  Eiiifering  or  the  dignity  of  the  cruciHed  one. 
The  bas-relief  on  the  Uoora  of  S.  Zeiio,  Verona,  shows 
lus  bearing  the  cross,  while  on  the  doors  of  the  Benevento 
;hedral,  (.'hriat  is  erect  in  the  centre,  and   another  figure 

Duccio  appears  to  be  the  last  to  make  prominent  the  aervice 
the  Cyreniau.  As  in  the  Ravenna  mosaic,  the  cross-bearer 
it  Christ'K  left,  and  a  soldier  on  his  right  seems  to  conduct 
lead  him,  but  with  no  exhibition  of  force  (Passion  series  at 
na). 

[n  the  other  type  of  composition,  where  Christ  himself 
XB  the  cross,  we  have  a  well-defined  ari'angement,  which 
I  adhered  to  till  the  fifteenth  century.  The  walls  of  the 
r  are  at  the  left,  and  the  procession  issues  from  the  gate  and 
ends  across  the  picture.  Our  Lord's  position  is  in  the  cen- 
I  carrying  the  cross  over -one  shoulder  with  dignified  ease, 
is  not  bent  beneath  the  burden,  and  he  wears  no  crown  of 
rns.  Just  behind  bim  is  the  group  of  weeping  women, 
niinent  among  them  the  Virgin  mother.  To  these  Christ 
ns  as  he  walks,  with  words  of  comfort  and  prophecy. 
The  type  is  illustrated,  with  almost  no  VBriations,  in  the 
ies  by  Ghiherti  (Florence  Baptistery  gate),  Giotto  (Arena 
ipe),  Padua),  and  Fra  Angelico  (Florence  Academy).     It 


THE   PASSIOH  289 

.  also  seen  in  the  frescoes  of  S.  Croce,  Florence  {in  the  sa- 
iBty),  and  in  the  frescoes  of  the  Spanish  Chapel  of  S.  Maria 


Cbrist  bearing  the  Cross  (Morando) 

fovella,   Florence.      In  all  these  we  are   impressed  by  the 
ctist's  reverence,  and  by  the  noble  dignity  of  the  Christ. 
The  succeeding  generatioos  changed  all  this,  and  gradually 


loped  an  entirely  new  type,  emphasizing  the  physical 
rings  of  the  Saviour.  He  now  invariahly  wears  the  crown  ' 
loms  and  has  a  painful  expression  of  weariness, 
le  beginning  of  this  later  type  may  be  seen  in  Morando's 
ire.  in  the  Verona  Gallery,  containing  only  three  figures, 
thom-croMmed  Christ  preceded  by  the  executioner  and 
wed  by  Simon. 

ther  pictures  make  far  greater  demands  upon  the  specta- 
sympathy.  More  and  more  prominence  is  given  to 
st's  difficulty  with  his  burden;  he  bears  it  almost  faint- 
3r  has  even  actually  fallen  under  it.  The  latter  motif  be- 
IS  in  some  cases  so  mechanical  that  I  have  seen  pictures 
*e  Christ  seems  to  be  lying  or  kneeling  on  the  ground, 
Lg  for  the  purpose  of  having  the  cross  laid  across  his 
Some  of  the  Germans  show  a  ghastly  ingenuity  in 
cruelties  of  the  soldiers. 

I  Lucas  van  Leyden's  Bound  Passion,  one  of  these  brutes 
es  the  prostrate  Christ  with  a  rope,  while  another  pulls 
roughly  forward.  A  similar  motif  is  seen  in  a  print  by 
ngauer.  Several  Germans  introduce  the  figure  of  St. 
nica,  whose  connection  with  the  incident  is  explained  in 
Jameson's  **  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,"  p.  630. 
le  later  Italians  are  not  far  behind  the  Germans  in  em- 
izing  Christ's  physical  suliering,  but  with  more  refine- 
t  of  handling. 

lie  painting  in  the  S.  Rocco  series,  Venice,  attributed  to 
n,  is  quite  unique  in  arrangement.  The  body  of  the  corn- 
ion  is  filled  with  a  steep  hill  encircled  by  a  winding  path, 
I  which  the  procession  moves,  Christ  having  reached  the 
nit,  'his  figure  brought  into  relief  against  the  sky-line  in 
ipper  centre.  The  figure  is  too  small  to  be  clearly  seen, 
it  is  evident  that  he  bends  heavily  forward  under  the 
en  of  the  cross  which  he  carries  on  his  back.  Nearly  all 
:  later  Italian  pictures  are  independent  of  series.  In 
;,  a  prominent  feature  is  the  agony  of  the  Virgin,  who 
s  in  the  arms  of  her  companions.  This  subject,  being, 
'ding  to  the  Rosary,  one  of  the  Seven  Sorrows  of  the  Vir- 
is  considered  in  this  light  in  Mrs.  Jameson's  ^'  Legends 
le  Madonna,"  p.  315. 

le  most  celebrated  example  is  Lo  Spasimo  of  Sicilia, 
e  Prado,  Madrid,  which  has  so  long  borne  the  name  of 


THE   PASSION  291 

Raphael  that  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  how  the  coming  gener- 
ations can  learn  to  call  it  (after  the  latest  critics)  the  work  of 
Giulio  Romano. 

In  the  Louvre  Gallery,  Paris,  a  picture  by  Veronese  repre- 
sents Christ  fallen  to  the  ground  under  the  cross,  which  the 
executioners  support,  while  the  Virgin  at  one  side  faints  in 
the  arms  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist. 

The  seventeenth  century  produced  pictures  of  the  subject 
in  various  schools. 

There  is  an  example  in  the  Prado  Gallery,  Madrid,  by 
Juanes,  and  another  in  the  Brussels  Museum,  by  Rubens. 
The  Flemish  picture  is  full  of  life  and  motion,  and  in  spite  of 
the  pathos  in  the  prostrate  figure  of  the  Saviour,  the  entire 
conception  is  as  spirited  as  of  a  triumphal  procession  pressing 
forward  to  new  victory. 

The  subject  of  Christ  bearing  the  Cross  has  been  treated 
in  the  same  idealized  manner  as  that  applied  to  the  Ecce 
Homo.  The  solitary  half-length  figure  of  the  Saviour  is  pre- 
sented in  profile,  the  head  crowned  with  thorns,  the  hands 
grasping  the  cross  on  the  shoulder. 

There  are  pictures  of  this  kind  by  Palmezzano,  in  the  Berlin 
Gallery ;  by  Giorgione,  in  the  Palazzo  Loschi,  Vicenza ;  by 
Sebastian  del  Piombo,  in  the  Hermitage  Gallery,  St.  Peters- 
burg; by  Cariani,  in  the  Belvedere  Gallery,  Vienna,  and  by 
Morales,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris.  To  this  class  belong  also  the 
paintings  by  Titian,  in  Madrid  and  St.  Petersburg,  containing 
the  additional  head  of  Simon. 


XXII.  The  Preparation  for  the  Crucifixion 

The  Evangelists  maintain  a  reverent  reserve  in  regard  to 
the  immediate  preparations  for  the  Crucifixion  and  the  pre- 
cise methods  of  procedure.  Up  to  this  point  the  narrative 
has  detailed  every  step  of  the  proceedings,  and  art  has  zeal- 
ously followed  after.  And  now  where  history  pauses  imagi- 
nation still  presses  on. 

Several  art  subjects  have  been  supplied  between  the  Journey 
to  Calvary  and  the  Crucifixion.  One  of  these  represents  Christ 
Stripped  of  his  Garments,  and  such  a  picture  is  in  Fra  An- 
gelico's  series  in  the  Florence  Academy,  Holbein's  drawings  in 
the  Basle  Museum,  and  in  a  few  wood-cuts  of  other  Germans. 


ither  snbject  fmiinl   in  luiiiiuturcs  ninl  some  Germau  pic- 

6  is  the  Virgin  liiiuliuf;  tlip  loin  elutli  on  Clirist. 

"he  Nailing  to  Km  Cross  in  a  very  fr«i]iu'iit  aubjett  in  early 

and  ext«nd(ril  i|uit«  luk-  into  tlie  Iteiiaissance.  It  is 
ng  the  tenth  [uutury  luimnturea  of  the  Greek  Meuolo- 
D  of  the  V«lii:aii  Library,  in  tho  niosaica  of  Monreale 
ilfth  century),  iridudod  in  thti  drawings  of  Holbein  and 
!>tirer'8  Little   I'nsRioti.  mid  found  nmoiig  the  frescoes  of 

Cremona  Calli.'dvui  (Portion one),  nnd  in  the  chnpele  of 
■o  Monte,  VamlKi. 

a  (he  Itoliati  niinintureR  1  have  examined,  the  cross  is 
»dy  in  place  ivliile  tlie  nailing  goes  on.  Li  tho  GermaD 
position,  as  illiistralied  by  Holbein  and  Dlirer,  the  cross 

on  the  grouiiil.  from  which  position  it  is  presumably  pre- 
ly  to  be  raise.!  iulo  place. 

'he  Elevation  of  the  Cross  is  a  late  snbject,  developed 
fly  in  the  seventeRnth  century  by  the  Flemish  and  French 
wis.  The  great  painting  of  Rubens  in  the  Antwerp  Ca- 
Iral  is  the  most  celebrated  example.     The  cross  here  marks 

diagonal  line  on  which  the  great  Fleming  was  wont  to 
d  his  compositions,  and  the  body  of  Christ  is  seen  in  strong 
t  in  the  centre  of  tlie  splendid  muscular  giants  who  strain 

piill  at  the  woiglit. 

XXIIL   Thk  Ckucifixiok 
1(1  they  crucified  him,  aiid  parted  hie  ferment!',  easting  lots:  that  it  might 
dfilled  wliioh  w»»  fpoken  by  the  prophet,  They  parted  my  garments 
IK  them,  and  upon  my  vesture  did  Ihey  ca<l  lots. 
id  fitting  down  tlicy  watched  him  (here  ; 
id  Mt  up  over  hia  head  his  aceutuitioii  written,  This  is  Jesus,  the  King  of 

icn  were  there  two  liiievos  erncilicd  with  him,  one  oil  ttie  right  hand,  and 
her  on  Ilie  left. 

id  they  that  passed  hy  reviled  iiim,  -wagKine  tlieir  iicads, 
id  saying.  Thou  that  deslroyest  the  temple,  and  buildest  it  iu  three  days, 
thyself.     If  thou  he  the  Son  of  Gnd,  come  down  from  the  cross, 
kewise  also  the  chief  priests  mucking  him,  with  the  scribes  and  elders, 


id  one  of  the  malefactors  which  were  hanged  railed  on  hiin,  saying.  If 
bo  Christ,  save  thyself  and  us. 

it  the  other  answering  rebuked  him,  saying,  Dost  not  (hoii  fear  God,  see- 
:bou  art  in  the  same  condemnation  ? 


THE   PASSION  293 

And  we  indeed  justl}' ;  for  we  receive  the  due  reward  of  our  deeds  :  but 
this  man  hath  done  nothing  amiss. 

And  he  said  unto  Jesus,  Lord,  remember  me  when  thou  comest  into  thy 
kingdom. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Verily  I  say  unto  thee.  To-day  shalt  thou  be 
with  me  in  paradise.  — Luke  xxiii.  39-43. 

Now  there  stood  by  the  cross  of  Jesus  his  mother,  and  his  mother's  sister, 
Mary  the  wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary  Magdalene. 

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  thai 
disciple  took  her  unto  his  own  home. 

After  this,  Jesus  knowing  that  all  things  were  now  accomplished,  that  th€ 
scripture  might  be  fulfilled,  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. 

When  Jesus  therefore  had  received  the  vinegar,  he  said.  It  is  finished:  and 
he  bowed  his  head,  and  gave  up  the  ghost.  ^ 

The  Jews  therefore,  because  it  was  the  preparation,  that  the  bodies  should 
not  remain  upon  the  cross  on  the  sabbath  day,  besought  Pilate  that  their  legs 
might  be  broken,  and  that  they  might  be  taken  away. 

Then  came  the  soldiers,  and  brake  the  legs  of  the  first,  and  of  the  othei 
which  was  crucified  with  him. 

But  when  they  came  to  Jesus,  and  saw  that  he  was  dead  already,  they  brake 
not  his  legs: 

But  one  of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear  pierced  his  side,  and  forthwith  came 
there  out  blood  and  water.  —  John  xlx.  25-34. 

From  whatever  point  of  view  the  life  of  Christ  is  regarded, 
the  culminating  point  is  the  Crucifixion.  It  was  the  inevita- 
ble tragedy  of  a  life  devoted  to  a  great  reform,  the  crowning 
sacrifice  of  him  who  was  given  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  Tc 
the  Christian  faith  of  two  thousand  years  the  event  has  had  a 
double  significance,  as  an  apparent  defeat  and  an  essential  vic- 
tory. That  these  two  opposed  ideas  could  be  combined  in  a  sin- 
gle art  representation  is  on  the  face  of  it  impossible ;  one  or  the 
other  must  be  sacrificed.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  art  has  nevei 
stopped  short  at  the  impossible.  On  the  contrary,  even  when 
its  resources  were  most  meagre,  with  the  childlike  boldness  oi 
ignorance  it  ventured  into  this  tremendous  undertaking.  And 
when  once  the  Crucifixion  made  its  appearance  in  art  it  waj 
soon  apparent  that  it  could  never  be  discarded.  All  arguments 
as  to  its  adaptability  to  representation  are  futile.  Esthetic  prin 
ciples  count  for  nothing  against  the  voice  of  the  people.  The 
Crucifixion  satisfies  some  longing  of  the  human  heart  whicl 
will  make  itself  felt  in  spite  of  all  theories  of  art  and  religion 
It  does  not  explain  the  fact  away  to  say  that  this  craving  ii 


1)i(I.  There  is  a  (lec|)er  reasuii  imderlyuig  it,  if  we  have 
the  sympathy  to  read  it.  It  may  be  that  sorrow  is  more 
ty  understood  than  joy ;  it  may  be  that  defeat  tiuils  a 
K  kinship  than  success ;  it  may  Iw  that  lovo  made  manifest 
iscritice  is  a  more  tangible  reality  tbnn  love  triuniphaut. 
I  fiubtleties  of  the  human  lieurt  we  may  never  fully  nnder- 
id,  but  we  must  accept  its  needs  as  fact, 
iM  we  have  already  seen  (p.  230),  the  tlrucilixion  as  an 
subject  dates  from  the  Council  of  Cnustantine  in  693.  As 
w  is,  however,  no  rule  without  exiieption,  some  repreaenta- 
a  of  an  earlier  date  are  in  existence,  and  no  history  of  the 
ject  ia  complete  which  does  not  mention  titese.  The  first 
n  a  carved  ivory  tablet,  preserved  in  the  British  Museum, 
which  from  it«  style  cannot  be  later  than  the  fifth  cen- 

L  better  known  representation  is  the  miniature  of  the  fa- 
■s  Syriac  Gospel  in  the  Laurentian  Library,  Florence,  and 

is  assigned  to  the  year  586.  In  this  the  three  crosses  are 
ine,  facing  out,  oa  in  later  pictures.  Christ,  on  the  central 
a,  is  clothed  in  a  long  sleeveless  tunic  reacbing  to  his 
lea.  His  eyes  are  wide  open,  as  it  still  alivo,  though  a  aol- 
'  is  in  the  act  of  piercing  his  side.  Opposite,  another  man 
la  up  a  sponge.  Three  men  sit  on  the  ground  in  front, 
ling  a  garment  between  them,  and  at  the  extreme  right  and 

are  groups  of  mourning  spectators,  including  the  Virgin 
impaiiied  by  St.  John. 

'or  some  centuries  following,  the  custom  of  draping  the 
le  of  the  crucified  Saviour  was  continued.  He  was  also 
a,  long  time  represented  with  eyes  open,  as  the  Lord  of  life  j 

the  crown  of  thorns,  the  token  of  his  suffering,  was  long 
irred.  An  incidental  characteristic  of  the  early  Crucifixion 
ae  method  of  nailing  the  two  feet  separately  to  the  cross, 
istinguished  from  the  later  method  of  superimposing  them, 
ly  of  the  primitive  pictures  were  highly  symbolic  in  char- 
r,  introducing  allegorical  figures  of  the  Sun  and  Moon, 
th  and  Water,  the  Church  and  tbe  Synagogue,  and  contain- 
also  such  emblems  as  the  pelican,  tbe  serpent,  etc.  A  not 
equent  form  of  the  cross  was  as  the  green  stem  of  a  tree 
1  branches.  Those  representations  which  were  not  sym- 
c  were  distinctly  idealized,  containing  only  a  single  cross 
3  attendant  figures.      Tbe  Virgin  mother  and  St.  John  the 


THE   PASi5I0N 


295 


Evangelnt  are  frequentlj  repreaentcil  one  on  each  side  of  tbe 
ciosb  ibeir  (,ei.tupeB  eiipreBS  sorrow  and  submiasiou  «ith 
one  band  to  the  cheek  nnd  the  other  e\tended  towards  the 
Saviour  Likewise,  also,  we  see  the  Crucitxioa  het'neen  two 
soldiers,  the  one  with  a  spear  (Longinus)  and  the  other  with 
a  sponge  (Stephaton)  Examples  of  the  (jmcifixion  from  the 
eighth  and  ninth  centunes  ire  not  abundant  or  easily  accessible, 
but  the  penod  from  the  tenth  to  the  thirteenth  centunes  pro 
iides  plenty  of  illustrations  m  illuminated  minuscnpts  (e  q 
the  Gospel  Books  of  &  tha    M  nich    ai  1  Tnei)    bas-rel  ef'i 


{e.  fj.  the  bdLta  CLliimn),  nnd  mosaics  (e  /  b  Marro  ^  onice) 
It  is  hitetesting  to  trace  through  these  the  slow  proce-is  by 
which  the  typical  compoaition  crystallized  into  form  The 
twelfth  century  mosaic  of  S  Marco  may  he  taken  as  a  repre 
sentati^e  example  of  the  completed  type  of  the  nHdi'e\<i] 
Crucifixion  All  the  older  symbols  have  been  dropped,  and 
tbe  Bynibol  of  the  ekull  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  makes  itt 


irance  as  an  innovation.  Also  we  have  the  newly  de- 
•ed  treatment  of  hovering  angels  ahove.  The  Christ  is 
instead  of  the  living  Christ  of  the  older  time,  but  that 
*e  still  in  medisevalism  we  see  from  the  separation  of  the 
ind  the  absence  of  the  crown. 

the  thirteenth  century  a  new  zeal  for  the  subject  of  the 
fixion  was  aroused  by  the  preaching  of  St.  Francis,  and  it 
ly  rose  to  supreme  preeminence  as  a  subject  of  Christian 
The  fully  developed  composition  of  the  following  cen- 
i  attempts  a  definitely  historical  method  of  treatment  with 
tree  crosses  in  position  and  a  very  considerable  number  of 
itors  present.     The  Saviour's  cross  occupies  the  centre,  is 
ivhat  taller  than  the  others,  and  has  at  the  upper  end  of 
[lain   shaft  a  small  inscription  board,  on  which  Pilate's 
i  are  indicated  by  the  initials  of  the  Latin  form,  I.  N*.  B.  I. 
le  foot  a  skull  is  often  bat  not  always  seen.     On  Christ's 
hand  is  the  repentant  thief,  and  on  the  left  the  unre- 
nt.    Pains  are  taken  to  distinguish  these  two  individuals, 
nly  from  the  central  figure,  but  from  each  other.     They 
enerally  tied  to  their  crosses  by  ropes  about  the  wrists 
nkles,  instead  of  being  nailed,  and  are  sometimes  in  hor- 
positions  of  torture,  with  arms  bent  back  over  the  trans- 
beam  of  the  cross.     The  face  of  the  one  who  repents  is 
ful,  while  that  of  the  other  is  brutal  and  often  distorted. 
)me  representations  the  death  angels  are  seen  hovering 
)ver  the  crosses  to  receive  the  departing  soul,  which,  in 
ase  of  the  repentant  thief,  is  a  tiny  naked  baby,  and,  in 
;ase  of  the  bad  thief,  a  small  black  imp,  the  former  held 
a  cloth  by  an  angel,  the  latter  writhing  in  the  grasp  of  a 

le  witnesses  of  the  event  naturally  fall  into  two  groups, 
iriends  of  the  Saviour  at  his  right,  near  the  repentant 
s  cross,  and  his  enemies  on  the  other  side,  scribes,  Phar- 
and  soldiers.  Among  the  latter  may  usually  be  distin- 
ed  one  with  a  spear  (Longinus)  and  another  with  a  sponge 
baton).  The  right  hand  group  consists  of  the  Virgin  and 
ttendant  women,  with  St.  John  the  Evangelist.  In  the 
e  of  time  this  group  grew  into  prominence,  precisely  as 
orresponding  group  was  at  the  same  time  changing  char- 
in  the  Procession  to  Calvary.  The  grief  of  the  Virgin 
er,  finally  culminating  in  her  fainting,  becomes  a  motif 


THE   PASSION  297 

distracting  the  attention  from  the  main  interest  of  the  compo- 
sition. Its  relative  importance  in  the  Crucifixion  is  not  so 
great  as  in  the  other  subject,  because  of  a  larger  number  of 
accessory  figures  to  draw  the  eye,  and  the  towering  prominence 
of  the  central  object.  A  common  feature  at  one  edge  of  the 
composition  in  the  foreground  is  the  group  of  soldiers  dividing 
Christ's  garment  among  them.  They  may  be  seated  on  tlie 
ground  casting  lots,  as  in  the  Crucifixion  of  the  Spanish 
Chapel,  Florence,  or  standing  in  altercation,  as  each  tries  to 
wrest  it  from  the  other,  as  in  Giotto's  fresco  of  the  Arena 
C'liapel,  Padua.  In  many  pictures  Mary  Magdalene  is  seen  at 
the  foot  of  the  central  cross,  sometimes  kneeling,  sometimes 
standing  and  clasping  it  with  her  arms,  looking  up  to  the 
Saviour  or  bowing  her  head  with  overwhelming  grief.  A  fig- 
ure less  easily  understood  by  the  uninitiated  is  that  of  the 
centurion,  who,  when  the  earthquake  and  other  signs  followed 
the  death  of  Christ,  exclaimed,  "Truly,  this  was  the  Son  of 
God."  He  is  clad  in  mail,  and  is  most  often  seen  on  a  horse, 
raising  his  hand  in  the  declaration  of  his  sudden  enlighten- 
ment. The  company  of  hovering  angels  introduced  in  the 
medisBval  period  was  carried  into  the  Henaissance  Crucifixion 
with  many  beautiful  variations.  Often  the  special  office  of 
some  one  of  these  celestial  attendants  was  to  catch  the  drops 
of  precious  blood  in  chalices. 

As  to  the  portrayal  of  the  central  figure  in  this  grand  pano- 
ramic scene,  the  whole  purpose  has  undergone  a  complete 
change  from  the  original  ideal.  It  is  Christ  the  Victim,  not 
Christ  the  Victor,  whom  we  now  behold,  hanging  dead  upor 
the  cross,  with  drooping  thorn-crowned  head,  and  riven  side, 
the  blood  streaming  from  the  nail  prints  and  spear  wound. 
Passing  over  all  the  last  words  of  the  dying  Saviour,  the  gen- 
eral consensus  of  art  fixed  upon  a  later  moment  when  the 
spirit  had  left  the  suffering  body.  Thus  Christ  is  not  ai: 
actual  participant  in  the  scene,  as  the  principal  personage,  bui 
rather  an  effigy  set  up  in  the  midst  of  the  composition.  ]\[ucl: 
depended  upon  the  individual  artist  as  to  the  dignity  of  the 
crucified  one  even  in  death.  The  modeling  of  the  nude  figure 
became  in  advancing  technique  a  favorable  opportunity  for  the 
painter  to  display  his  knowledge  of  anatomy  and  the  beauty  oi 
the  human  figure.  \The  face  of  the  Christ,  though  so  ofter 
only  pathetic  in  suflfering,  was  sometimes  touched  with  a  highei 


{esliveness  of  noble  reeigiiuLioii.  Altogether  it  may  1>h  saiil 
i  tbu  Reimbeaiicti  prfHlticiril,  bi>lli  in  ItuJy  anil  in  tliii  itorth, 
«  dignified  and  iiuprcMive  pictures  nf  tlie  L'vucitixion, 
pgb  to  ptonoiini«  niiy  nf  thetii  a  perfect  realization  of  tlie 
istian  ideal  would  be  ijuile  another  matter.  Sodio  few 
ati  them  are  really  ^kM-,  aiid  require  specific  cansideratiOQ. 
first  of  all  should  be  mentioned  Liiini'a  Crutili.xioa  at 
pino,  because  it  sums  up  in  tlje  most  o)mplete  way  all  tho 
Dents  of  the  type  composition  as  established  by  liis  pceds- 
lors.  Without  any  points  of  originality,  it  is  neverthelew 
Mtutiful  work,  full  of  refinement  and  earnest  Christiun  aep- 
Bnt, 

U  ditferont  aa  possible  from  the  gentle  tradition  revering 
ni  was  the  iinjietuouB  Tintoretto.  To  the  latter,  the  Ctud- 
9n  was  a  mighty  tragedy  whose  draniatie  quality  he  analyzed 
b  keen  artistic  insight.  Three  times  he  jiainted  tha  sub- 
]  and  in  each  case  represented  it  from  a  difi'erent  point  of 
V.  In  the  Crucifixion  of  S.  CasBiaiio,  Venice,  the  exectt- 
ler  is  just  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  his  workj  reach- 
down  from  the  ladder  to  take  the  tablet  of  the  inscription 
D  the  hands  of  a  man  below.  The  three  crosses  are  in  a 
[onal  line  extending  from  the  lower  right  corner  of  the 
[position  towards  the  centre.  The  thieves,  who  are  still 
ifuUy  alive,  turn  their  faces  to  the  spectator,  hut  Our  Ixird 
een  in  profile,  a  far  finer,  nobler  face  than  Tintoretto  usU' 
'  gives  him,  and  as  yet  free  from  any  appearance  of  Buffer< 
At  the  left,  the  Virgin  is  seated  on  the  ground,  looking 
Kstly  into  the  Saviour's  face,  and  St.  John  beside  her  turns- 
I  to  his  Master,  evidently  receiving  his  parting  charge.  On 
horizon  line  is  a  row  of  upward  pointing  spears,  belonging 
the  Koman  soldiery  standing  on  a  lower  level ;  hut,  eava 
this  sign  of  an  adjacent  throng,  there  are  no  spectators  but 
se  mentioned.  The  entire  originality  of  the  mntif,  the 
ice  of  that  most  tender  of  all  Christ's  words  from  the  cross 
lid  alone  give  the  picture  unusual  prominence,  but  it  has 
irell  fine  artistic  qualities  to  reconimend  it  to  the  critic's 
liration. 

!n  the  Crucifixion  of  the  Venice  Academy  it  is  not  so  easy 
define  the  exact  moment  of  action.  The  wound  in  the 
iour'a  side  would  indicate  that  he  is  already  dead,  yet  the 
cutioner  has  but  just  finished  his  task  and  is  even  now 


.  j^. 

j^r 

1 

if'/ 

•s 

TllK  TA»»1UJN  2»i 

descending  the  ladder,  while  the  repentant  thief  appears  to  be 
proffering  his  request.  The  Saviour's  head,  bent  directly  for 
ward,  is  so  foreshortened  that  we  cannot  read  his  expression 
but  it  seems  to  be  full  of  noble  beneficence.  The  compositior 
is  closely  crowded  with  figures,  the  usual  groups  in  the  fore- 
ground, and  behind  the  crosses  many  other  spectators  in  earnesi 
discussion. 

The  great  Crucifixion  of  S.  Rocco  is  much  more  celebrated 
than  either  of  the  preceding,  its  greater  claim  to  fame  resting 
upon  the  magnificent  extent  and  variety  of  the  composition. 
The  central  figure  is  not  essentially  different  from  that  oi 
the  Academy  picture,  the  attitude  being  the  same.  In  the 
S.  llocco  picture,  however,  the  principality  of  the  Christ  b 
emphasized  by  the  immense  semicircular  glory  against  which 
the  upper  part  of  the  cross  is  relieved.  The  moment  is  the 
dying  Saviour's  expression  of  thirst,  in  response  to  which  a 
man  on  the  ladder  placed  against  the  cross  bends  forward  tc 
dip  a  sponge  into  a  bowl  held  up  from  below.  At  the  right, 
one  of  the  thieves  is  about  to  be  fastened  to  his  cross,  which 
lies  flat  upon  the  ground  and  upon  which  he  sits.  At  the 
other  side  the  repentant  thief's  cross  is  in  process  of  elevation, 
and  strong  men  pull  it  into  place  by  means  of  ropes.  Thai 
each  one  of  the  thieves'  crosses  should  be  the  centre  of  sc 
much  action  is  at  once  a  defect  and  an  advantage.  Composi- 
tionally  it  destroys  the  unity  of  the  whole,  but  on  the  othei 
hand  it  affords  a  striking  contrast  to  the  central  group,  making 
the  latter  thereby  more  prominent  as  the  centre  of  repose. 
But  whether  we  admire  or  deprecate  so  much  variety  in  a 
single  composition,  we  can  never  cease  to  wonder  at  the  inex- 
haustible fertility  of  the  imagination  which  conceived  it. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  greater  contrast  to  Tintoretto's 
work  than  the  Crucifixion  by  Mantegna,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris 
In  point  of  size  the  two  are  at  opposite  poles,  one  being  £ 
huge  fresco,  and  the  other  only  a  single  compartment  of  the 
predella  of  a  Madonna.  They  are  both,  nevertheless,  finishec 
achievements  of  great  artists,  and  so  characteristic  that  it  h 
proper  to  bring  them  into  comparison.  In  the  Venetian  pic 
ture  all  is  tumult  and  action  while  the  keynote  of  Mantegna' s 
work  is  repose.  While  the  former  is  full  of  variety,  the  lattei 
is  absolutely  simple.  Mantegna  used  here  to  the  utmost  ad 
vantage  his  mastery  of  the  classic  mo^iy  applied  to  Christiar 


itimviit.  All  tlir  ^Trmpiiig  U  ui  ritiitt]eM|iic  iioso,  yet 
Dtion  is  expredsel  "ii  wicli  fute.  Thr  «p(ices  Wlwe 
beea  contain  two  maju  gtou|>K,  llie  \'ir);in  mid  h'T  woini 
r  Savimir'e  right,  tlio  Holdicre  ut  Iti--  ullier  bUp.  At  the 
tor  etigea  aluml  tlio  giiigie  fij;T]ri-B  of  St,  JnUn  the  RvnngeliBt 
I  the  Oiitiirjon.  The  cniciliod  tlfjiir^s  are  elovatud  «L  an 
iGiinl  height  nhnvp.  the  lirndx  iif  the  stAnding  apectaton,  aad 
t  device  serves  to  eniphasiKc  tlie  solemn  signiticance  of  the 
Ot  as  well  ns  t»  prn]iortioii  t)ie  cotniKidtinn  hnrmouioaely, 
BVom  the  ('rucifixioii  nf  tint  north  wi'  st'Wt  a  single  ezam- 
in  ft  reniai'kahle  engraving  l>y  liUcsB  van  Lejdi-ii,  Lika 
I  Kcce  Homo,  which  haa  bnen  previously  rnferrwl  to,  this  isk. 

r  composition  fall  of  iutereBting  tignres  minutely  cliaracter- 
Tbo  crosses  aro  on  a,  hill  in  the  rear,  and  tlw  inmuent  is 
t  of  the  soldier's  spenr  thnwt  into  the  side  of  the  cnidfied 
►ionr.  The  point  of  view  ie  not  the  actual  i)roce8a  of  the 
nt,  but  rather  the  varying  mooda  in  which  the  spectators 
trehend  its  significance, 
Ml  that  has  been  eaid  thns  far  of  the  BenaiBaance  Cmcifix- 

has  had  reference  to  the  liiBtorical  representations,  both  b&> 
ee  these  entail  more  description  and  because  they  are  more 
Sinctly  in  the  line  of  our  study.  It  should  he  understood, 
rever,  that  a  more  idoaJized  style  of  treatment  was  developed 
.ultaneously  with  tlie  hiatorieal.  A  worlt  of  this  kind  — 
ture  or  baH-relinf  —  shows  the  single  cross  of  the  Saviour 
h  aaintfl  or  votaries  — a  solitary  figure  or  a  whole  company 
jn  adoration.  Such  repveaeutations  serve  a.  distinct  devo- 
lal  purpose ;  the  mood  of  tlie  devotee  is  transferred  to  the 
ctator,  and  together  they  contemplate  the  sacred  mystery. 
W  this  cJoss  is  the  famous  Crucifixion  by  Penigino  in 
ffaria  Maddelena  dei  Piuzi,  Florence,  a  large  fresco,  of  which 

Arundel  Society  has  made  a  chromo-lithographic  reproduc- 
I.  Through  three  large  arches  we  look  out  on  a  quiet 
ibrian  landscape,  the  eye  following  the  course  of  the  river 
ich  winds  across  wide  spaces  between  undulating  hills.     In 

centre  of  the  foreground  is  the  single  cross  on  which  hangs 

Saviour,  calm  and  beautiful,  with  the  Magdalene  kneeling 
ide  it.  Two  figures  are  under  each  arch  at  the'side  ;  at  the 
■ionr'a  right,  the  Virgin  standing,  and  St.  Bernard  kneeling; 
loaite,  St.  John  atanding,  and  St.  Benedict  kneeling.  The 
te  of  treatment  is  perfectly  adapted  to  awakening  a  devo- 


I- THE   PASSION  Sm 

tional  'pint  There  11  no  ttiiiiu  upon  the  attention,  no  ehotq 
to  the  sympathies  nothing,  jura  upon  the  perfect  harmonjr; 
Hera  may  the  we  iried  spirit  he  calmed  into  repose. 

One  rf  tli    rarh  «oik      f   r  ij  1  t  1  «       in  idpalinod  Cruci- 


fixion, introducing  the  ohi  traditiooul  features  of  the  sun  ani 
moon  aliove  the  cross  uid  the  angela  holJini;  chalices  belo« 
thewQUiid  prints.     The  style  is  closely  imitated  from  Peru 


lo,  and  the  worsliipers  1>elow  liave  the  eame  contemplative 
dtudes  and  fervent  expressions  which  characterize  the  work 
the  Uoibriaii  master  (collection  of  Mr.  I>a  Moud.  Loitdon). 
lu  the  cloister  of  S.  Warco,  Florence,  facing  the  ontrauce, 
a  fresco  by  Fra  Angelico  which  etrikoe  the  keynote  of  the 
^astic  life  of  which  he  was  aii  exponent.  This  U  the  Cm- 
Ikioii,  with  St.  Domiriic!  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  cross, 
t  face  tense  with  the  strong  iigony  of  the  devout  soul  enter- 
^  into  the  aucrilicfi  uf  liis  Lord. 

The  idesli/ed  form  of  the  Crucifixion  with  the  Virgin  and 
,  Jolin  WU3  u  favorite  subject  with  Martin  Sohongauer,  bj 
koiii  are  several  such  prints,  full  of  pathos  and  fiue  religious 
iling. 

The  highest  ideal  form  of  the  CruciBxion  if 
tss  fills  the  picture  and  no  other  figares  ar 
one  is  by  DUrar  iu  the  Dresden  Gallery,  s 
d  awful  in  loneliness.     The  single  ' 
1  to  its    margins  relieved  against  t 


is  where  the  single 
present.     Such 
niple  and  strong 
3  fills  tliB  entire  can- 
1  still  landficape  which 


letches  away  into  the  pale  line  of  light  on  the  horizoi: 
Bs  of  the  Crucified  are  raised  to  heaven,  the  mouth  opened 
if  in  the  last  desolate  cry  of  anguish.  The  delicate  Iwauty 
the  body  is  unraarred  by  any  ghastly  blood  stains,  Anothei 
intiug  of  this  sort  by  Quido  Reni,  in  the  Chnrcli  of  S. 
■renzo  in  Liicina,  Rome,  is  also  very  grand  and  impressive. 
In  the  seventetmth  century  there  were  some  noble  Cruci- 
ions  produced  by  Vau  Dyck.  One  wliich  comes  to  mind  as 
lecially  line  is  in  the  Antwerp  Museum. 
The  idealized  <.'nici[ixion  is  the  form  moat  common  in  our 
B  day.  We  have,  it  is  true,  a  conspicuous  example  of  the 
itoritial  treatment  in  the  work  of  Munkacsy  and  Verea- 
lagin,  but  to  outnumber  sueh  is  a  large  body  of  pictures 
itaining  the  single  cross  without  accesaorieB,  Kot  any  one 
these,  however,  has  as  yet  passed  into  history  as  a  notable 

In  connection  with  the  development  of  the  Crucifixion,  we 
3Uld  note  also  the  growth  of  the  crucifix.  This  is  the  port- 
te  cross  on  which  is  represented  the  figure  of  the  Crucified 
le,  painted  in  bas-relief,  or  in  round  sculpture,  made  in  any 
iterial,  wood,  metal,  stone,  or  clay.  Such  representations, 
peering  first  in  any  considerable  number  in  the  tenth  een- 
7j,  reached  the  height  of  their  development  in   the  four- 


THE  PASSION  30i 

teenth  century  simultaneously  with  the  completion  of  the  typi 
composition  of  the  historical  Crucifixion.  From  this  time  oi 
the  multiplicity  of  crucifixes  passes  all  possible  computation 
Placed  for  many  centuries  on  every  altar  of  every  Christiai 
church,  the  chief  household  treasure  of  every  Christian  home 
and  the  personal  property  of  every  individual  through  ou 
Christendom,  their  number  reached  inestimable  figures.  Thej 
range  all  the  way  from  such  works  of  art  as  a  Donatello  or  j 
Luca  della  Robbia  might  design,  to  the  rude  toys  sold  in  th( 
market-place  to  the  contadini.  It  is  not  possible  within  th( 
limits  of  this  study  to  give  any  account  of  particular  examples 
but  it^is  of  interest  to  note  the  modern  reaction  from  the  lon^ 
accepted  type  and  the  return  to  the  earlier  and  loftier  concep 
tion. 

In  the  centre  of  the  newly  restored  (1894)  altar  screen  o1 
Winchester  Cathedral;  England,  the  Crucifix  is  a  nineteentl 
century  rendering  of  the  mediasval  motto,  '^  Christus  vincit 
Christus  regnat,  Christus  imperat."  Standing  with  arms  out 
stretched,  not  nailed  to  the  cross,  but  marked  with  the  stig 
mata  to  indicate  the  sacrifice,  with  crowned  head  and  oper 
radiant  eyes,  the  Christ  statue  expresses  to  the  Church  th( 
victory  of  the  Supreme  Sacrifice. 

If  now  we  pause  to  grasp  into  an  entirety  all  the  manifolc 
forms  in  which  art  has  represented  the  great  event  of  Calvary 
historical  and  idealized  Crucifixions  and  Crucifixes,  we  begir 
to  realize  the  importance  of  the  subject.  Beyond  doubt  it  is 
the  most  conspicuous  feature  of  the  Christian  cycle.  The 
history  of  its  development  seems  a  literal  fulfillment  of  St. 
Paul's  declaration  of  faith :  "  I  determined  not  to  know  any- 
thing among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified." 

XXIV.  The  Descent  from  the  Cross 

And,  behold,  there  was  a  man  named  Joseph,  a  counsellor;  and  he  was  t 
good  man,  and  a  just : 

(The  same  had  not  consented  to  the  counsel  and  deed  of  them;)  he  was  o] 
Anmathaea,  a  citv  of  the  Jews:  who  also  himself  waited  for  the  kingdom  ol 
God. 

This  man  went  unto  Pilate,  and  begged  the  body  of  Jesus. 

And  he  took  it  down.  —  Luke  xxiii.  50-53. 

There  is  a  striking  contrast  between  the  scenes  immediate!} 
preceding  and   those   immediately  following  the  Crucifixion. 


b  the  contnuit  between  Jesua  in  the  midst  of  h'la 
pcketl,  KCDiirgiHt,  anil  tormeiitoil,  and  Jesus  in  the  mit 
I  (rieiiJa,  laved,  cherifihed,  and  Inmented.     Still  mure  it  is 
ft  C4>iitniet  between  Jesus  ulive  and  snlfemg,  and  Jeeiis  in 

i  Kpiiee  of  death.  It  ia  frum  this  last  alement  of  repoee 
it  tbu  art  subjects  following  the  Crudfixion  derive  an  en- 
bI;  new  quality.  The  objections  brought  against  tlie  appro 
iat«nesB  of  HufTering  for  graphic  represeutalioii  jrield  tu 
)  artistic  possibilities  in  tlie  peaceful  beauty  of  death.  It 
true  that  many  artists  have  fallen  far  short  of  their  privi- 
[ea  ill  tbia  res|)ect,  making  no  change  in  Clur  Ijord's  express- 
O  of  physical  suiTering,  even  beyond  his  death.  Such  an 
arpretation  is  unworthy  of  the  high  calling  of  eacretl  art. 
«  master  spirits  have  tflught  us  a  better  way. 
As  an  art  subject,  the  Descent  from  the  Cross  has  its  origin 
the  meJiieval  period  side  by  side  with  the  conijianion  sub- 
t  of  the  Entombment,  It  occurs  in  the  twelfth  century 
isaics  of  Monreale,  and  in  the  Liospe]  Books  of  Gotha, 
liiich,  and  Trier. 

After  tlie  Imposition  was  introduced,  it  wna  obliged  to  share 
)  honors  with  tlie  later  subject.  Pew  of  the  historical  series 
^ated  both,  and  most  made  a  selection  between  the  two. 
iccio,  for  instance,  in  the  Passion  series  at  Siena,  preferred. 
i  Descent  from  the  Cross,  while,  as  we  shall  see  a  few  pages 
er,  others  preferred  the  Deposition. 

In  the  Cologne  school  series  (Berlin  Gallery)  and  in  Diirer'a 
Ale  Passion  we  have  both  siibjacts. 

It  is,  however,  in  independent  representations  quite  apart 
m  serial  art  that  we  get  our  finest  examples  of  the  Descent 
m  the  Cross.  It  is  au  interesting  fact  that  the  masterpieces 
two  great  painters  are  devoted  to  this  subject,  namely, 
niele  da  Volterra  and  Rubens. 

On  the  briefest  possible  statement  that  Joseph  of  ArimathjBa 
>k  the  body  of  Jesus  down,  art  has  builded  an  elaborate  com- 
iitiou.  NicodemuB,  who  brought  spices  for  the  embalming, 
supposed,  naturally  enough,  to  have  assisted  in  the  task. 
John  the  Evangelist  and  the  Virgin  mother,  mentioned 
standing  near  the  cross,  are  also  added,  besides  the  other 
men  whom  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  mention  as  witnesa- 
;  the  Crucifixion  afar  off.  This  makes  a  company  seldom 
aller  than  eight,  and  easily  increased  to  fifteen  or  twenty. 


gmea  nil  a  purely  i>«rfiincU<ry^SS^^^^^ 
'  afisisting,  but  rottlly  without  eliicacy,  in  tlio  lifting  of 
Kxiy. 

10  subject,  like  all  others,  dovelopctd  ia  detail  through 
Muturic-a. 

t  Niccotii  Piaano's  baa-relief  at  Lucca,  the  cross  is  so  low 
the  Saviour  neede  only  to  be  lifted  off  in  the  arms  of  a 
ig  disciple.  I^ater,  a  ladder  was  mode  a  ueceseary  ad,}unct 
e  ocoteion,  and  after  a  whilu  two  ladders  became  custom- 
txvl  three  or  four  are  often  seen.  Joseph  and  Kicodemus 
lly  ofticiote  from  the  top  of  tlie  ladders,  while  St.  John 
inspicuouB  in  supporting  tlie  falling  Iwdy  from  below, 
arlier  art,  the  Virgin  mother  also  stood  at  the  foot  of 
eroas,  with  St.  John,  either  receiving  the  body  in  her 
lerly  embrace,  as  in  Duccio's  beautifid  panel  of  the  Siena 
■I,  or  caressing  him  tenderly,  as  in  Niccnlft  Pisano's  relief. 
simplicity  of  interpretation  was  replaced  in  later  art  by 
ame  process  of  reasoning  as  that  applied  to  the  preceding 
tcta,  the  Journey  to  Calvary,  and  tlie  (.'ruciflxion.  It  ie 
osed  that  the  Virgin  mother  could  not  endure  the  anguish 
le  moment,  and  fainted  in  the  arms  of  her  companions. 
I,  for  the  third  time,  wo  have  the  group  of  the  fainting 
in,  with  attendant  women,  iutrodueeil  into  a  composition 
e  central  interest  is  so  absorbing  that  no  other  m-otif 
Id  be  allowed  to  overahadow  it. 

le  of  the  best  works  of  Fra  Angelico  ia  tbe  Descent  from 
Zross,  painted  in  1445  for  the  Church  of  Santa  Trinitfc, 
now  in  the  Elorence  Academy.  Some  of  its  good  points 
lost  clearly  understood  by  contrasting  them  with  the  de- 
of  the  average  composition.  The  handling  of  Our  Lord's 
is  arranged  with  utmost  simpliaity  and  natnralness,  and 
no  superfluoiiH  and  meaningless  figures.  The  on-lookers 
rouped  at  each  side,  and  are  coijrdiuated  with  the  central 
a  by  two  connecting  figures,  the  Magdalene  kneeling  to 
the  Saviour's  feet,  and  a  charming  young  saint  adoring. 
Virgin  mother  here  attracts  no  undue  attention  by  her 
emotion  ;  she  shares  with  tbe  others  the  spirit  of  solemn 
nation,  sinking  on  her  knees,  with  folded  hands.  Above 
he  interest  focuses  ou  tbe  beautiful  figure  of  the  Christ, 
inquil  in  the  relaxation  of  death, 
tlterra'a  masterpiece  is  in  the  Church  of  the  Trinity  de' 


THE   PASSION  307 

Monti,  Rome.  The  Christ  is  held  almost  in  a  sitting  posture 
in  the  upper  centre  of  the  composition,  his  rather  efifeminate 
beauty  contrasting  artistically  with  the  dark  muscular  man 
who  supports  him.  Directly  below,  the  Virgin  lies  prostrate, 
with  three  women  bending  anxiously  over  her. 

Rubens's  great  painting  in  the  Antwerp  Cathedral  is  one  of 
the  best  known  pictures  in  the  world.  It  is  a  work  that  the 
artist  alone  can  fully  appreciate  in  its  accurate  adaptations  of 
anatomy,  its  splendid  color  scheme,  and  the  masterly  compact- 
ness of  the  composition. 

Two  well-known  black  and  white  pictures  of  the  Descent 
from  the  Cross  are  the  engraving  of  Mantegna  and  the  etch- 
ing of  Rembrandt,  each  strong  in  the  characteristic  qualities 
of  the  individual  engraver.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  for 
lowering  the  body  both  artists  use  a  cloth  held  by  a  man 
bending  alone  over  the  horizontal  bar  of  the  cross. 

Rembrandt's  composition  describes  a  very  tall  triangle,  and 
over  the  group  thus  massed  falls  a  broad  ray  of  light  from 
the  upper  air.  Rembrandt  also  painted  the  subject  of  the 
Descent  from  the  Cross  (1633)  in  the  very  fine  painting  in  the 
Munich  Gallery.  There  is  a  replica  in  the  Hermitage  Gal- 
lery, St.  Petersburg. 

XXV.  The  Deposition  and  Preparation  for  Burial 

And  there  came  also  Nicodemus,  which  at  the  first  came  to  Jesus  by  night, 
and  brought  a  mixture  of  myrrh  and  aloes,  about  an  hundred  pound  weight. 

Then  took  they  the  bod}"  of  Jesus,  and  wound  it  in  linen  clothes  with  the 
spices,  as  the  manner  of  the  Jews  is  to  bury.  —  John  xix.  39,  40. 

The  interval  between  the  Descent  from  the  Cross  and  the 
actual  placing  of  Our  Lord's  crucified  body  in  the  tomb  is 
filled,  in  the  Evangelist's  narrative,  with  the  Jewish  burial 
preparations,  consisting  of  wrapping  the  body  in  linen  with 
spices. 

Christian  art  has  made  the  most  of  this  opportunity  to  pro- 
long the  Passion  cycle,  and  has  invented  various  aspects  of  the 
subject.  There  is,  first  of  all,  that  moment's  pause  at  the 
very  foot  of  the  cross,  to  lay  the  body  on  the  ground.  This 
is,  properly  speaking,  the  Deposition.  Or  again,  the  group  is 
removed  from  the  foot  of  the  cross  to  the  vicinity  of  the  tomb, 
or  is  even  seen  without  definite  setting.     Here  the  emphasis 


;  UBually  upon  the  grief  of  the  moarnerai  the  subject  is 
appropriately  known  as  the  Lamentation.  The  most  ideal- 
forms  of  the  Lamentation  are  the  Pietl^  —  this  name 
ring  especially  to  the  group  of  the  Viigin  alone  with  her 
fied  son — and  the  Dead  Christ  with  Angela.  Finally, 
lave  the  actual  process  of  making  ready  the  spices  and 

for  the  burial,  which  we  may  most  suitably  call  tbe  Pre- 
ion  for  Burial.  All  these  subjects  being  but  slightly 
"entiated,  the  titles  are  used  indiscriminately, 
}  make  the  confusion  greater,  the  subjects  covering  this 
val  are  constantly  mistaken  for  the  adjacent  subjects  of 
)escent  from  the  Cross  and  the  Entombment.  The  reader 
Jace  no  dependence  whatever  upon  the  titles  used  in  guide- 
9,  catalogues,  or  works  of  general  art  criticism.     Each 

use  his  own  eyes  and  his  own  common  sense  to  determine 
eal  significance  of  the  picture  observed. 

historic  origin,  the  entire  group  of  subjects  between  the 
3nt  from  the  Cross  and  the  Entombment  is  compara- 
f  late.  The  earlier  art  had  been  satisfied  with  those  two 
Qg  points  in  the  narrative,  and  it  was  the  later  spirit  that 
nded  a  more  poetic  theme.  When  once  it  was  introduced, 
Deposition  became  so  popular  that  it  sometimes  replaced 
])escent  from  the  Cross,  as  in  DUrer's  Greater  Passion, 
still  more  often  represented  both  the  Descent  and  the  En- 
ment,  substituting  a  single  composition  for  the  two,  as 
Lotto's  series  in  the  Arena  Chapel,  Padua,  Fra  Angelico's 
J  in  the  Florence  Academy,  and  in  Gaudenzio  Ferrari's 
3es  in  S.  Maria  delle  Grazie,  Varallo.  The  great  majority 
camples,  however,  are  found  independent  of  serial  treat- 

• 

■  the  Deposition  at  the  Foot  of  the  Cross,  sometimes  called 
it  taken  down  from  the  Cross,  we  have  a  specially  cele- 
d  example  in  the  painting  of  Morando,  among  the  Passion 
5  in  the  Verona  Gallery.  This  contains  the  six  usual  fig- 
— Nicodemus,  Joseph  of  Arimathsea,  and  St.  John,  and  the 
i  women,  the  Virgin,  the  Magdalene,  and  Salome.  Christ 
pported  in  a  sitting  posture  by  Nicodemus,  and  the  Vir- 
)ends  over  him  grieving. 

le  picture  has  commanded  very  high  critical  praise  for  its 
:ic  qualities  of  color  and  drawing,  and  for  the  dignity  and 
ic  repose  of  the  composition. 


THE   PASSION 


Tbe  Deposition  (Mi 


The  Deposition  is  the  subject  of  Eocco  Marconi's  best  work, 
a  painting  in  the  Venice  Academy.  Here  it  is  the  mothet 
who  supports  her  dead  son  in  a  sitting  posture  leaning  against 
her  lap,  while  tbe  other  Bpectators  are  divided  into  two  groups 


noHful  beauty  of  the  ileod  (Jhrist  Ulitittrat«a  edmirably 
tier  s|jiril  of  iiiterprpting  tliis  subji^ct.  It  efaould  be 
1,  alsu,  ifaul  lioth  in  this  pkture  and  in  thnl  of  Morando 
B  iiu  uuseeiiily  display  of  grief,  no  violence  of  amotion 
ature. 

be  Bunie  quiet  vein  of  subdued,  resigned  sorrow  are  the 
ul  pictures  in  tlie  I'itti  (Jallery,  Florence,  by  Perugiuo 
irtoloiniiieo, 

luite  another  mntifia  tho  composition  in  which  the  Vir- 
rooHB  while  etill  holding  tlie  dead  Christ.  We  have 
r  Been  this  idea  introduced  into  three  of  the  previous 
ts,  and  noticed  how  it  detracted  from  tlte  unity  of  the 
it.  In  this  case  the  same  objection  could  not  be  raised, 
e  the  action  of  the  Virgin  is  not,  as  before,  a  side  issue, 
combined  with  the  central  conception.  A  single  illus- 
i  will  make  this  clear,  —  the  wonderful  picture  by  Bol- 
in  the  Munich  Gallery,  The  Virgin,  majestic  in  grief, 
the  body,  delicately  moulded  as  of  a  youth,  bending  back- 
n  a  long  beautiful  curve  across  her  lap.  Her  fainting  is 
y  free  from  sensationalism,  and  attracts  no  bustling  aiix- 
1  the  part  of  the  others.  St.  John  puts  an  arm  about 
ir  support,  and  leans  over  to  grasp  securely  the  weight 
is  slipping  from  her  relaxed  hold.  The  picture  is  one 
grows  upon  the  spectator  with  every  new  observation, 
)mn  is  the  impression  it  makes. 

ahael's  drawing  in  the  Louvre  Gallery,  Paris,  which  is 
;  as  familiar  as  any  of  his  paintings,  is  also  based  on  the 
f  the  Virgin's  fainting ;  here,  as  in  Botticelli's  composi- 
ihe  does  not  actually  fall,  but  merely  leans  hack  upon  her 
nions,  thus  leaving  the  extended  body  of  the  crucified 
ir  the  central  object  of  interest. 

the  seventeenth  century  art,  the  idealized  Deposition  or 
was  a  very  common  subject,  and  was  treated  with  great 
g  by  the  best  of  the  Italians  of  the  period,  as  is  instanced 
ndo  Eeni'a  noble  painting  in  the  Bologna  Gallery,  and 
jale  Caracci'a  in  Naples.  By  Van  Djck  there  are  several 
pictures  in  which  beautiful  lamenting  angels  are  intro- 
.  In  the  French  school  there  are  pictures  by  Pousain, 
;h  Gallery,  and  Le  Sueur ;  by  De  la  Koche  and  Dela- 
(Museum  of  Fine  Alts,  Boston). 


THE  PASSION  311 

As  the  Germans  are  of  a  decidedly  practical  turn  of  mind,  it 
is  in  their  pictures  that  we  most  often  find  signs  of  prepara- 
tions for  burial,  —  the  jar  of  ointment  brought  by  Nicodemus, 
and  the  linen  cloth  on  which  the  body  lies  ready  to  be  wrapped. 
We  see  these  touches  in  the  prints  of  DUrer  (Little  Passion) 
and  Lucas  van  Leyden.  They  are  also  introduced  into  one  of 
the  small  compositions  in  the  background  of  Luini's  Crucifix- 
ion at  Lugano. 

XXVI.  The  Entombment 

Now  in  the  place  where  he  was  crucified  there  was  a  garden;  and  in  the 
garden  a  new  sepulchre,  [which  was  hewn  out  of  a  rock]  wherein  was  never 
man  vet  laid. 

There  laid  they  Jesus  therefore  because  of  the  Jews'  preparation  day;  [and 
rolled  a  stone  unto  the  door  of  the  sepulchre. 

And  Mary  Magdalene  and  Mary  the  mother  of  Joses  beheld  where  he  waa 
laid].  —  John  xix.  41,  42,  and  Mark  xv.  46,  47. 

In  the  early  acceptation  of  the  term  entombment  (or  its  for- 
eign equivalents),  as  well  as  in  the  early  conception  of  the  in- 
cident, the  leading  idea  was  the  actual  process  of  placing  the 
body  in  the  tomb,  usually  lowering  it  into  a  sarcophagus.  In 
this  sense  the  subject  dates  from  the  medigeval  period,  when 
it  first  appeared  with  the  companion  subject,  the  Descent  from 
the  Cross.  It  is  in  the  mosaics  of  Monreale  and  in  the  Gospel 
Books  of  Gotha,  Munich,  and  Trier.  It  was  not,  however,  of 
long  duration  or  of  great  popularity  in  Italian  art,  and  was, 
as  we  have  seen,  replaced  by  the  Deposition,  in  more  or  less 
idealized  forms,  to  which  the  name  Entombment  continued  to 
be  erroneously  applied.  In  some  of  the  earlier  compositions, 
the  Virgin  mother's  part  is  one  of  actual  service,  but  this  is 
not  common,  and  Duccio's  panel  of  the  Passion  series,  Siena, 
shows  the  ordinary  style  of  treatment.  His  composition  con- 
tains the  same  company  of  people  that  we  have  previously 
seen  in  the  Descent  from  the  Cross,  —  Joseph  of  Arimathaea 
and  Nicodemus,  prominent  in  practical  service,  the  Virgin 
mother  and  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  conspicuous  for  their 
demonstration  of  affection,  and  Mary  Magdalene  making  a  dis- 
play of  violent  grief.  Piero  della  Francesca  (in  a  predella  at 
Borgo  San  Sepolcro)  reverses  the  action  of  the  Virgin  and  Mag- 
dalene, showing  the  latter  kissing  the  Saviour's  feet,  while  the 
former  throws  up  her  arms  in  a  gesture  of  abandoned  sorrow. 


the  noble  allar-pioce  by  Tnd'k-o  fia<l<li,  in  the  Florence 
ttlemy,  euiitains  no  unseemly  exhibition  of  painful  euotioa. 
im  llie  rear  r>f  the  earcophagUH  the  Vir^n,  St.  John,  and 
jry  Magdalene  all  henit  lenUerly  over  to  ciireBs  their  beloved 
i,  while  all  the  surrounding  r^iitpauy,  grief -stricken  though 
jr  be,  exprens  their  emotion  with  dignified  reserve.  In  all 
fe  picturee  the  figure  of  the  crucified  Saviour  is  stretched 
jeaceful  repose  upon  tlio  linen  lowering  cloth,  the  features, 
ni  as  lay  in  the  artist's  power,  composed  in  the  quiet  seren- 
of  death. 

there  is  an  interesting  engraving  of  the  Entombment,  by 
Dtegno,  in  which  the  arrangement  I9  varied  by  the  Virgin's 
iting,  seated  on  the  ground  between  two  women,  while  St, 
in  stands  beside  them  weeping.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
tre  of  attention  is  the  usual  action  at  the  sarcojihagua,  into 
tch  two  men  (Joseph  of  Ariraathxa  and  Xicodemus)  are 
«ring  the  body,  while  two  women  bend  sorrowfully  over 
n  the  rear.  There  is  another  engraving  by  Mant^gna,  also 
.ed  the  Entombment,  which  depicts  a  moment  just  preced- 

the  above.  Christ's  body  is  borne  by  two  men  from  tha 
I  side  to  the  sarcophngns  in  the  centre.  The  work  is  one 
the  most  painful  of  this  powerful  artist's  terrible  realism, 

agony  of  grief  displayed  being  unendurably  violent.  The 
tif  here  —  the  Hearing  of  the  Body  —  is  the  later  form  in 
ich  the  Italian  painters  preferred  to  represent  the  stihject. 
ff^eary,  perhaps,  of  the  monotonous  repetition  of  a  somewhat 
mal  and  uninteresting  composition,  they  found  in  this  new 
iation  ample  opportunity  for  the  display  of  technical  skill 
anatomical  effects,  while  they  evidently  had  but  a  vague 
ion  of  any  actual  moment  upon  which  tha  composition  is 
Tided.  The  moat  notable  of  oil  paintings  of  this  kind  are 
se  of  Raphael  in  the  Borghese  Gallery,  Rome,  and  of  Titian 
the  Louvre,  Paris.  These  are  pictures  to  <leUght  the  con- 
Bseur  with  their  artistic  qualities,  but  otherwise  their  good 
nts  are  quite  dissimilar.     Eajihael'e  work  is  admirable  for 

skill  with  which  the  weight  is  managed,  while  Titian's, 
lentably  defective  in  this  respect,  is  praised  for  the  eamest- 
8  of  the  reverence  and  gi-ief  displayed. 

[n  northern  art,  the  Entombment  appears  in  its  most  matter- 
:act  aspect.  The  task  proceeds  with  quiet  effectiveness, 
1  the  mourners  look  on,  sorrowful  hut  not  demonstrative 


THE   PASSION  313 

in  their  grief.  The  prints,  in  .the  Passion  series  hy  Dtirer 
and  Schongauet,  interpret  the  part  of  the  Vii^in  and  St.  John 
very  Bympathetically. 

In  the  composition  of  the  Little  Passion,  the  two  figures  stand 
together  quite  in  the  background,  apart,  yet  looking  on  with 
interest,  sorrowful  but  resigned.     So,  likewise,  in  Schonguuer's 


The  Entombment  (Mantegns) 

print  tbey  are  together,  though  in  front,  the  young  man  kneel- 
ing back  to  the  spectator,  with  his  arms  thrown  about  his 
foster  mother's  waist  to  support  her. 

The  Entombment  is  the  subject  of  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated paintings  of  the  late  English  pre-Eaphaelite,  Ford 
MadoK  Brown.  Here  the  tomb  is  designed,  according  to  the 
EvangellBt's  account,  as  hewn  from  the  rock  in  the  garden. 


^^■i  are  jiiat  btiarin}*  tht>  boJy  through  tba  H^^^I^H 
in*  in  advnncc  earryipg  tlie  feet  having  already  partly  dis- 
ared  within.     TI»o  rear  bearer  carries  tlie  burden  by  the 
t  under  tha  jliouldcra,  and  the  Lord's  body,  wnLj^ied  in 
vhito  drapury,  droops  botween  in  a  curved   line.      The 

is  Btill  crowned  with  ihoms,  hut  the  face,  turned  out 
le  picture,  has  last  the  Itrak  of  sulfering  and  is  calm  in 
I.  The  Magdalene  crouches  alone  beside  the  door  o( 
tomb,  her  lovely  profile  outlined  against  a  circular  glory. 
Iiu  rear  are  two  women  weeping,  and  a  man  standing  near 

In  the  riglit  corner  is  a  woman  with  a  little  child. 
le   peculiar  forte  of  this  strange  painter  seems  to  have 

that  of  inveatiug  a  sacred  incident  with  solemn  mystery. 

effect  is  most  striking  in  the  picture  of  the  Entombment, 
rely  simple  in  strong  realistic  effect,  it  commenda  itself 
Lrict  truthfulueas  and  earnestness  of  quality.  Hut  it  has, 
Iditioik,  that  subtle  suggestivenesa  of  mystery  which  is 
^a  to  be  associated  with  death,  and  still  more  diUicult  to 
e,  a  delicate  hint  of  the  immortality  veiled  in  the  material, 
composition  exists  in  three  forms,  —  the  original  water- 

pnintej  in  18GG,  the  pen  and  ink  sketch  o(  a  year  later, 
the  oil  jrainting  of  1867,  which  la  in  the  Leyland 


XXVII.  Thk  Pks€ent  into  Limbus 


)arly  all  the  medieval  historical  series  illustrating  the 
jf  Christ,  and  some  few  of  much  later  date  (by  Fra  An- 
3,  in  the  Florence  Academy,  Gaudenzio  Ferrari,  at  Varallo, 
,he  Germaa  engravers)  contain  directly  after  the  Entomb- 
the  subject  of  Christ's  Descent  into  Lirahus.  The  refer- 
ia  to  the  interval  between  the  Crucifccion  and  the  Resur- 
m,  when,  according  to  the  Latin  Gospel  of  Nicodemua, 
it  waa  occupied  with  the  liberation  of  the  souls  of  the 
nTchs  and  prophets  of  the  old  dispensation.  In  the  typi- 
oraposition  Christ  carriea  the  resurrection  banner,  and 
,ing  on  a  higher  level  reaches  out  a  helping  baud  to  the 
lany  of  long-bearded  old  men  who  flock  eagerly  towards 
k,lifted  faces  and  outstretched  arms. 


IX.  FROM  THE  RESURRECTION  TO  THE  ASCE] 

SION 

I.   The  Resurrection 

And,  behold,  there  was  a  great  earthquake :  for  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
scended  from  heaven,  and  came  and  rolled  back  the  stone  from  the  door,  £ 
sat  upon  it. 

His  countenance  was  like  lightning,  and  his  raiment  white  as  snow: 
And  for  fear  of  him  the  keepers  did  shake,  and  became  as  dead  men. 
Matt,  xxviii.  2-4. 

Some  time  between  the  entombment  of  Our  Lord's  crucifi 
body  on  Friday  evening  and  the  women's  discovery  of  t 
empty  tomb  on  Sunday  morning  was  the  Resurrection;  H( 
or  when  this  took  place  we  are  not  permitted  to  know,  but  i 
told  only  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord  rolled  the  stone  aw£ 
and  whether  this  was  before  or  after  the  Lord  had  come  foi 
is  not  said.  -  That  the  guards  saw  anything  of  the  actual  Resi 
rection  we  have  no  reason  to  believe  and  every  reason 
doubt.  Since,  then,  there  were  no  human  witnesses  of  t 
event,  any  attempt  to  represent  it  to  the  eye  must  be  pure  i 
tion  on  the  part  of  art.  Such  attempts  were  undreamed  of 
the  early  days  of  reverent  reserve.  We  have  already  seen  tl 
a  certain  class  of  subjects  was  held  too  sacred  in  the  first  fi 
centuries  for  representation,  such  as  the  Transfiguration  a 
the  Crucifixion.  If  these  scenes  which  were  so  explicitly  ( 
scribed  by  eye-witnesses  were  held  apart,  how  much  more  m^ 
terious  would  be  one  of  which  we  have  no  description. 

There  were  undoubtedly  some  few  attempts  in  the  mediae^ 
centuries  to  represent  the  Resurrection.  One  of  the  bas-reli( 
of  the  Gaeta  column  seems  unmistakably  intended  for  this  si 
ject,  as  is  also  one  of  the  compositions  of  the  mosaics  in  t 
Monreale  Cathedral. 

Properly  speaking,  however,  the  Resurrection  is  a  Rena 
sance  subject,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise  to  find  it  in 
early  a  work  as  Ghiberti's  gate  of  the  Florence  Baptistei 


bia  iiisUnre,  together  with  the  puucl  hy  Guddj  in  the  short 
irieB  of  the  I-'Iorence  Academy,  marked  u  decided  innovatiuD 

existing  cufitums,  for  others  of  this  and  the  succeeding  period 
-Duccio,  Giutto,  and  Fra  Angelico  —  still  followed  the  early 
Kcudetit  of  letting  some  coiinecled  subject  stand  for  the  lie- 
irrectioii  fuct.  Iiuter  seriitls,  of  course,  contain  it,  such  aa 
toee  ill  the  Oteiuuiiu  (lothedral,  Ferruri'd  frescoes  ut  Vantllo, 
intoretto's  at  S.  Kocco,  Venice,  etc.  In  the  meim  time  the 
(bject  had  beuomu  exceedingly  popular  an  ilu  allur-piece,  su 
lat  we  have,  all  told,  a  large  numl)er  of  examples  crowded 
to  0  few  centuries. 

A  subject  developed  so  lat«  as  the  Besurrectiou,  uud  conse- 
■ently  unhampered  by  compositional  traditions,  shows  a  great 
iriety  in  method  of  treatment.  We  may  see  ('hrifit  in  the 
a-y  act  of  stepping  out  of  the  tomb,  one  foot  still  within  the 
rcophagus,  as  in  Bazzi'a  Resurrection  at  Sienu ;  we  may  see 
m  standing  triumphant  on  the  tomb,  as  in  Cihiberii's  panel 

the  l^ptistery  gate.  Again,  he  Hoats  on  a  cloud  just  above 
<e  tomb,  stil)  in  a  standing  posture  and  surrounded  by  a 
ory.  Gradually  the  space  above  the  tomb  is  increased  uutil, 
ith  such  later  Italian  painters  as  Titian,  we  see  Christ  soar- 
g  high  in  raid-air.  These  differing  aspects  of  the  subject 
call  similar  phases  of  the  Transfiguration,  which  we  saw  was 
Bated  in  two  general  styles  according  as  the  figure  of  Christ 
ood  on  the  earth  or  floated  above  it. 

The  methods  described  apply  to  compositions  where  the 
mb  is  represented  (as  it  usually  is)  aa  a  sarcophagus.  Where 
e  tomb  is  cut  in  the  side  of  a  rock  or  embankment,  Christ  is 
en  floating  up  out  of  the  door.  Such  pictures  are  too  rare  t<j 
jsaify  by  date  or  school,  but  we  have  one  in  the  series  by 
addi,  in  the  Florence  Academy,  one  in  Memling'a  altar-pieca 

Lubeek,  and  another  in  the  panel  attributed  to  Leonardo  dft. 
inci,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery. 

The  early  Italian  art  portrayed  the  rising  Christ  draped  iB. 

long  garaient.  Gradually "  this  is  arranged  to  expose  th« 
;ht  side  with  the  apear  wound,  nntil  finally  the  figure  he- 
me nearly  a  nude  with  only  a  slight  loin  drapery.  The 
ipropriate  colors  are  ivhite  and  violet,  though  no  rule  is 
Tjdly  observed.  Another  change  in  the  Italian  composition 
ade  by  the  process  of  time  was  the  characterization  of  the 
lards  who  at  first  lie  on  the  ground  sound  asleep,  but  whom 


THE    KESUKRECTION    (PERir.iNo) 


FROM   THE   RESURRECTION   TO   THE   ASCENSION         317 

later  painters  show  springing  up  in  alarm  to  gaze  at  the  fear- 
ful vision.  This  change  was  doubtless  due  partly  to  the  desire 
to  strengthen  the  evidence  of  the  Resurrection  by  the  presence 
of  witnesses,  and  also  to  the  demand  for  more  dramatic  action 
in  the  subject. 

Nearly  all  the  Germans  adhered  to  the  general  features  oi 
the  early  Italian  type  in  the  matter  of  the  sleeping  guards  and 
in  Christ's  drapery  and  attitude.  The  rising  Saviour  is  repre- 
sented either  as  stepping  out  of  or  standing  upon  the  tomb. 
Some  of  the  Germans  —  as  Memling  and  Schongauer  —  intro- 
duced an  angel  to  aid  in  removing  the  stone  from  the  tomb,  a 
viotlf  which  is  rare  in  Italian  art. 

One  feature  of  the  Resurrection  which  is  invariable  in  every 
period,  and  common  to  all  schools,  is  the  so-called  Resurrec- 
tion banner.^  This  is  a  flag,  on  which  the  cross  is  painted, 
floating  from  a  tall  flagstaff  borne  in  Christ's  hand.  The  ban- 
ner itself  may  dwindle  in  size,  though  not  often,  to  a  slight 
pennon,  and  may  even  be  replaced  by  a  cross,  but  the  staff"  is 
always  of  considerable  length,  usually,  indeed,  as  tall  as  Christ's 
own  figure.  The  significance  of  the  emblem  is  unmistakable ; 
it  is  the  banner  of  victory  over  the  grave,  won  by  the  cross. 
The  banner  is  ordinarily  carried  in  the  left  hand,  leaving  the 
right  free  for  a  gesture,  which  may  be  that  of  pointing  heaven- 
ward, showing  the  nail  print  in  the  palm,  or,  more  commonly 
than  either,  giving  the  benediction. 

One  of  the  finest  possible  examples  of  the  earlier  Italian 
treatment  is  the  Resurrection  by  Piero  della  Francesca,  at 
Borgo  San  Sepolcro,  a  fresco  in  the  Palace  of  the  Conservators, 
now  Monte  di  Pieta.  This  is  one  of  the  few  works  concern- 
ing which  the  latest  critics  are  of  the  same  opinion  as  old 
Vasari,  declaring  it  the  greatest  of  all  this  artist's  productions. 
John  Addington  Symonds  has  even  gone  so  far  as  to  pronounce 
it  the  grandest  of  all  pictures  of  the  subject.  The  Christ,  clad 
in  a  rose-tinted  tunic,  rises  majestically  in  the  sarcophagus, 
resting  one  foot  on  the  edge,  as  if  about  to  step  out.  He  is 
looking  directly  out  of  the  picture,  and  there  is  a  majestic 
solemnity  in  his  gaze  which  passes  analysis.  The  painter  has 
caught  in  a  marvelous  way  the  expression  which  others  have 
tried  to  put  into  the  face  of  the  reviving  Lazarus,  that  look  of 

1  The  single  exception  I  can  mention  is  Gliiberti's  bas-relief  on  the  Baptis- 
tery gate. 


iwly  dawniny  coii«cioUBnette  in  one  who  is  ri-tuming  from  the 
tber  worM.  AVe  are,  as  it  were,  adinitted  into  tlie  secret  of 
I  actual  IteHUrrection  procces,  wbile  other  less  subtle  jtatntei^ 
dc  only  to  give  \ia  llic  complctiul  results. 
It  is  raid  thut  P'ranoeaca'D  Ueaiirrection,  painted  in  144d, 
IB  the  insptrutiou  of  Montegun  iu  that  picturo  of  the  Tours 
Beeuiu  (paiuted  some  tun  year^  later),  which  belouga  to  the 
tie  predella  of  which  the  Louvre  Crucifixion  is  a  part.  TIte 
ntude  of  Christ  is  precisely  the  same,  btit  the  figure  is  sur- 
anded  by  that  strange  mandorla  peculiar  to  Mantegna,  con- 
ting  of  rays  of  light  diverging  from  un  inner  row  of  cherub 
ids.  The  six  or  seven  giiiinla  have  all  been  aroused,  and 
)  sitting  up  in  attitudes  of  fear  and  amazement. 
Stitl  another  pictun',  belonging  to  the  same  group  and  of 
out  the  same  periml  (1498J,  is  by  Alvise  Vivarini,  in  8.  Gio- 
ani  in  liragora,  Venice,  a  picture  highly  praised  by  Mr. 
irnbard  Iferenson. 

There  is  also  iu  the  National  Gallery,  London,  a  Resurrec- 
ID,  attributed  to  Francesco  Mantegna,  of  kindred  nature,  treat- 
;  the  aukiject  irith  quiet  dignity  apart  from  any  dramatic 
}tif,  and  showing  the  Saviour  standing  on  bis  tomb. 
Over  one  of  the  doors  in  the  Duomo,  Florence,  is  a  terra- 
tta  bas-relief,  by  Luca  della  Kobbia,  treating  the  It«snrrec- 
m  after  that  more  idealized  manner  which  represents  Christ 
a  glorified  vision  hovering  just  above  the  tomb.  This  idea 
ifi  doubtless  borrowed  from  the  artistic  representation  of  the 
Kcnsioii,  which  is  a  companion  subject  both  in  a  religious 
jae  and  artiatically.  In  this  very  instance,  indeed,  the  two 
bjects  form  together  a  pair  of  lunettes  for  opposite  sacristy 
ors  of  the  Duomo.  The  composition  haa  a  noble  impres- 
'eness.  The  guards  lie  asleep,  as  if  dead,  below,  while  the 
en  Saviour,  gravely  beneficent,  is  adored  by  two  angels  on 
her  side, 

The  Resurrection  was  quite  a  frequent  subject  of  bas-reliefs 
long  Luca's  contemporaries,  being  ^specially  appropriate  for 
B  ornamentation  of  tombs. 

Perugino's  painting  in  the  Vatican  Gallery,  Kome,  has  the 
Buliar  devotional  quality  which  gives  value  to  the  Trans- 
uratioE  of  the  Cambio  (Perugia),  which  was  probably  painted 
about  the  same  time.  We  have  again  the  gentle,  benignant 
viour,  standing  ou  a  little  cloud  just  above  the  eurtb,  and 


FROM   THE   ItESURRECTION   TO   THE   ASCKKSION 


iii(ieil  by  an  oval  glory.  An  angel  adores  on  cither  side, 
as  in  Luea  Jella  Robbia's  lunette,  iPintiiricchio  has  followed 
the  same  plan  of  composition  in  the  Resurrection  of  the  Boi'gia 
apartments  of  the  Vatican  (Camera  della  Vita  della  Madonna). 
tihirlandajo's  Resurrection,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  is  also  ol 
this  group.     It  is  the  poorest  part  of  the  altar-piece,  for  whicli 

s  originally  painted. 


n  Titian's  painting  in  the  Chuich  of  SS.  Nazoro  e  Celsi, 
icisLf  we  see  exemplified  the  latest  and  holdest  form  of  the 
ed  subject  of  the  Resurrection.     The  figure  of  Christ  is 
that  of  some  athlete  who  has  been  performing  splendid 
B  of  daring  on  the  cloud  levels.     He  looks  down  to  the 
h  with  a  triumphant  sweeping  motion  of  the  left  hand, 
ling  the  banner  aloft  in  his  right.     The  wind  sweeps  the 
ds  along  and  fills  out  the  fluttering  pennon  and  draperies, 
scene  is  full  of  life  and  beauty,  but  the  picture  is  a  far 
from  the  reverent  tranquillity  of  the  earlier  art. 
4ntoretto  painted  the  subject  several  times  with  character- 
impetuosity  of  conception.     An  unusual  and  beautiful 
in  the  composition  of  the  S.  Bocco  series,  Venice,  is  the 
dduction  of  four  angels  swinging  back  the  covering  of  the 
ilchre. 

jinil>ale  Caracci's  Resurrection,  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  is 
isived  in  the  late  Italian  manner,  and  portrays  Christ  in 
attitude  of  a  flying  Mercury,  carrying  the  banner  like  the 
iceus. 

^e  have  already  seen  that  northern  art  never  fell  into  the 
astic  exaggerations  of  the  later  Italians.  The  Resurrection 
ways  treated  there  with  solemn  dignity,  even  if  somewhat 
aically.  The  prints  of  Martin  Schongauer  and  Lucas  van 
lien  are  typical  examples  of  the  oft-repeated  compositions, 
he  former,  Christ  is  stepping  out  of  the  sarcophagus  ;  in  the 
;r,  he  is  standing  on  the  cover  in  a  mandorla  of  fleecy 
ds. 

b  is  Albert  DUrer  who  teaches  us  how  the  German  man- 
may  produce  great  results.  The  Resurrection  of  both  his 
jion  series  conveys  a  vivid  impression  of  victory  by  the  use 
ery  simple  means.  All  the  power  of  the  picture  is  con- 
rated  on  the  splendid  virile  figure  of  the  Christ.  As  the 
L  of  Sorrows  on  the  title-page  is  the  very  embodiment  of 
los,  so  the  Saviour  of  the  Resurrection  is  the  very  embodi- 
t  of  triumph.  His  towering  height,  his  superb  physique 
bearing  proclaim  him  at  once  the  Conqueror,  and  he  steps 
1  as  if  to  take  command  of  armies. 

he  Resurrection  is  the  subject  of  one  of  Bume-Jones's  win- 
designs  used  in  Hopton  Church,  England.     While  an 
d  lifts  the  stone  cover  of  the  sepulchre,  Christ  soars  aloft  in 
ift  upward  motion. 


FROM  THE  RESURRECTION  TO  THE  ASCENSION    321 

Other  modern  artists  —  outside  the  illustrated  Bibles  — 
have  been  reticent  about  undertaking  a  subject  which  cannot 
be  handled  effectively  without  danger  of  theatrical  if  not  actu- 
ally irreverent  results. 

IL  The  Angel  appearing  to  the  Women  at  the 

Tomb 

And  when  the  sabbath  was  past,  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Mary  the  mother  oi 
James,  and  Salome,  had  bought  sweet  spices,  that  they  might  come  and 
anoint  him. 

And  very  early  in  the  morning  the  first  day  of  the  week,  they  came  untc 
the  sepulchre  at  the  rising  of  the  sun. 

And  they  said  among  themselves,  Who  shall  roll  us  away  the  stone  from 
the  door  of  the  sepulchre  ? 

And  when  they  looked,  they  saw  that  the  stone  was  rolled  away:  for  it  was 
very  great. 

And  entering  into  the  sepulchre,  they  saw  a  young  man  sitting  on  the  right 
side,  clothed  in  a  long  white  garment;  and  they  were  affrighted. 

And  he  saith  unto  them.  Be  not  affrighted :  Ye  seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
which  was  crucified :  he  is  risen ;  he  is  not  here :  behold  the  place  where  they 
laid  him.  —  Mark  xvi.  1-6. 

It  was  early  on  the  Sunday  morning  following  the  Cruci- 
fixion that  Our  Lord's  Resurrection  was  first  made  known  to 
the  company  of  faithful  women  who  visited  his  tomb.  There, 
instead  of  their  beloved  dead,  they  found  a  glorious  being  who 
gave  them  glad  tidings  of  a  risen  Christ.  This  is  a  pivotal 
incident  in  the  development  of  Christian  faith  as  the  first  link 
in  the  chain  of  evidence  of  the  Resurrection.  Long  before  art 
had  become  bold  enough  to  portray  Our  Lord's  actual  rising, 
this  subject  had  taken  an  important  place  in  the  Christian 
cycle  to  represent  the  great  Resurrection  fact.  Its  position 
was  immediately  after  the  Entombment,  as  the  next  event 
specifically  described  in  the  Gospel  narrative.  Together  they 
signified  the  sting  of  death  and  the  victory  by  which  that 
sting  is  lost. 

The  earliest  representation  I  can  name  of  the  Women  at 
the  Tomb  is  among  the  mosaics  of  S.  Apollinare  Nuovo,  Ra- 
venna. Then  follow  such  bas-reliefs  as  may  be  seen  on  sar- 
cophagi, on  the  Gaeta  column,  and  on  the  bronze  doors  of  S. 
Michael  at  Monte  Santangelo.  The  subject  is  common  in 
the  illuminated  manuscripts,  as  in  the  Cottonian  Psalter  of 
the  British  Museum    (tenth  century)    and  the  three   Gospel 


oka  wc  liiive  so  often  alluctiil  to  as  rc-preseutative  e^tainplef^, 
iii'ly,  those  of  Gotliu,  Miiiibli,  tknd  Trier.  In  these  earlier 
ttiiplee  tho  tunili  is  usually  a  round  structure  of  classic 
le  like  thono  wo  inmgiue  as  onco  lining  the  sidee  of  the 
ipian  Way.     The  ajigel  eits  on  one  aide  or  in  front  of  this, 

I  I  reinember  one  instance  in  which  he  hovers  above  The 
men  stand  on  the  opposite  side.  Theee  first  representations 
ely,  I  think,  contain  more  than  a  eingie  angel,  as  in  the 
BpeU  of  St.  Matthew  and  ISt.  Mttrk,  but  the  numlier  of 
men  may  be  either  two  or  three. 

For  the   more  fully  developed   type  composition  we   may 

II  to  Duccio  and  Fra  AngelicD,  to  both  of  whom  we  owe 
lutifiit  though  i|uite  diBBimilar  interpretations  of  the  story. 
KMiio's  panel  (in  the  I'nssioii  Eeries  in  the  Opera  del  Diiorao, 
ina)  is  characterised  by  a  dignified  impressiveness  which  befits 
^eat  revelation.  The  tomb  is  a  sarcopbagua  set  at  the  right 
the  picture  in  front  of  a  jagged  line  of  rocks.  The  lid  has 
m  pushed  aside,  and  here  sits  the  majestic  Enster  angel  clad 
white,  heating  in  one  hand  the  sceptre  of  his  office  and 
;h  the  other  pointing  to  the  empty  place.  There  is  a  grave 
nificance  in  his  demeanor  in  spite  of  the  gladness  of  the 
ssage,  and  the  three  women,  approacLing  front  the  left  with 
lii  pots  of  ointment,  shrink  back  in  awe  at  the  fearful 
ion.  The  Sienese  painter  bas  vividly  comprehended  the 
.matic  situation,  and  in  his  mind  the  uppermost  thought  is 
1  first  shock  of  the  terrifying  mystery. 

In  Fra  Angelico  the  story  touched  quite  another  chord : 
him  who  daily  walked  amidst  angelic  visions  there  could 
no  cause  for  terror  in  such  apparitions.  Notably  lacking 
dramatic  sense,  he  treated  the  subject  as  a  charming  idyl, 
1  story  of  a  sorrow  sweetly  turned  to  glnd  surprise.  The 
;el  sitting  within  the  rock-hewn  tomb  smiles  with  innocent 
asure  upon  the  two  women  peeping  timidly  in  at  him  from 
h  side  of  the  opening.  Three  other  women  stand  at  one 
0,  their  faces  stiU  showing  traces  of  the  grief  which  is  so 
■n  to  vanish. 

This  is  the  composition  in  the  series  of  panels  in  the  Flor- 
!e  Academy.  In  tho  frescoes  of  S.  Marco,  the  monk- 
nter  rose  to  a  higher  idealization  of  the  scene.  The  empty 
cophagus  occupies  the  centre  of  the  picture,  and  upon  its 
je  sits  the  welcoming  angel.     His  right  hand  points  to  the 


FROM   THE   RFSI  i  liFCTIO\   TD   THF    \=?CF\-^ION 


•i2: 


place  wliere  tho  Luid  has  liuu,  while  the  left  is  diiected  up 
ward  toward  the  lignre  of  Chnat  m  an  almund  shipej  glory 
All  the  Iifjht  strcania  from  the  niBion  of  the  risen  SaMoir 
^luihnn  her  e}e3  from  ita  radiance,  a  youiij;  wuman  stand 
pi  enng  wistfully  into  the  tomb,  whilt,  three  others  are  groiipeJ 


The  Holy  W  omen  »t  Ihf  T-mb  (Duluo) 


at  her  left  Still  another  womnn  kneels  at  the  other  aide  be 
yond  the  angel  Hero,  as  in  the  other  picture,  the  number  nl 
women  is  fi\e,  based  apparently  upon  a  comparative  Etud\  ol 
the  four  Evingelisti,  ind  including  Mary  Magdalene,  Mar^ 
the  mother  of  James,  Salome,  Joanna,  and  "  other  women 
that  nero  with  them  " 

Similar  to  Fra  Aiigehco'e  S  Marco  fresco  is  the  composi 
tion  ou  the  arched  ceiling  of  the  Spanish  Chapel,  Florence 
(.  hrist  Boats  in  a  f;lor\  ibove  the  empty  sarcophaf;ua,  whilt 
the  women  (here  three  in  number)  approach  from  the  left 
with  pota  of  ointment      In  this  composition  we  have  what 


nusnaly  —  two  angels  present  sitting  one  at  each  end  ol 
tomb  facing  the  spectator.  (Attributed  to  Veneziana) 
'ra  Angelico  was  the  last  to  include  in  historical  series  thi 
ject  of  the  Women  at  the  Tomb.  We  have  already  seei 
;  his  successors,  and  even  some  of  his.  predecessors,  substi 
d  the  actual  Resurrection.  Thus  thero  followed  a  gap  ii 
history  of  the  subject  filled  only  by  some  rare  single  pic 
s  by  the  later  artists  of  the  Renaissance.  Such  an  one  i 
\nnibale  Caracci,  in  the  collection  of  Castle  Howard,  whicl 
been  characterized  as  of  *'  singular  grandeur  and  pathos  ii 
expression  of  grief/' 

Vithin  the  last  few  years  there  has  been  a  very  interestinf 
val  of  the  subject  in  the  decoration  of  churches.  Ther< 
obvious  reasons  for  its  adaptability  to  this  purpose.  Th< 
ne  suggested  is  at  the  heart  of  Christian  faith  and  is  a 
same  time  the  most  cheerful  and  inspiring  which  can  b 
before  the  imagination.  Not  including  the  figure  of  thi 
iour,  it  is  not  too  ambitious  for  the  comparatively  mediocn 
>t,  while  a  motif  of  angels  always  opens  a  tempting  oppor 
ty  for  decorative  effects. 

Liiiong  the  stained  glass  windows  devoted  to  the  subjec 
those  in  the  (!hurch  of  the  Ascension,  New  York  city,  an( 
he  Central  Congregational  Church,  I^oston.  The  treatmen 
)oth  cases  is  very  poetic  and  decorative.  The  angel  mes 
^er  is  a  tall  commanding. figure  standing  with  outspreac 
gs,  the  right  arm  stretched  heavenward,  while  the  left  han( 
Is  a  palm.  The  women  are  grouped  opposite  on  a  lowe 
A,  lifting  their  faces  in  wonder. 

n  St.  John's  Church,  Detroit,  is  an  elaborate  mosaic  rere 
in  which  the  subject  is  wrought  according  to  the  desigi 
kirs.  Ella  Condit  Lamb.  The  style  is  of  an  ecclesiastica 
lality  suitable  for  the  art  vehicle  employed.  The  angel  ii 
and  figure  facing  out  from  the  top  of  a  flight  of  steps,  hii 
gs  unfurled  to  form  an  almond-shaped  glory  behind  him 
a  richly  jeweled  girdle  falling  in  front  in  the  shape  of  i 
s.  The  women  on  the  lower  steps  are  in  attitudes  of  aw< 
adoration. 

Tore  notable  still  is  La  Farge's  fresco  in  the  Church  of  St 
»mas,  New  York,  of  which  much  has  been  written,  and  al 
>raise  of  the  reverent  intention,  the  sympathetic  treatmen 
he  landscape,  and  the  fine  artistic  qualities. 


FROM  THE  RESURRECTION  TO  THE  ASCENSION    325 

Travelers  over  seas  bring  back  the  report  of  a  fine  altai 
painting  devoted  to  this  subject,  by  Axel  Ender,  in  the  cathe- 
dral of  the  little  Norwegian  town  of  Molde. 

Our  shop  windows  at  Easter  are  full  of  prints  from  popular 
modern  paintings  of  the  Angel  appearing  to  the  Women  at  the 
Tomb,  prominent 'among  them  the  works  of  Bouguereau, 
Plockhorst,  and  Pfannschmidt.- 

III.    Christ  appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene  :  Noli 

ME  Tangere 

But  Mary  stood  without  at  the  sepulchre  weeping:  and  as  she  wept,  she 
stooped  down,  and  looked  into  the  sepulchre, 

And  seeth  two  angels  in  white  sitting,  the  one  at  the  head,  and  the  other  at 
the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain.  *' 

And  they  say  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  She  saith  unto  them, 
Because  they  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  1  know  not  where  they  have 
laid  him. 

And  when  she  had  thus  said,  she  turned  herself  back,  and  saw  Jesus  stand- 
ing, and  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her.  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  whom  seekest  thou  ? 
She,  supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener,  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne 
him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary.  She  turned  herself,  and  saith  unto  him,  Rab- 
boni  ;  which  is  to  say,  Master. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her.  Touch  me  not  ;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my 
Father:  but  go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my  Father, 
and  your  Father;  and  to  my  God,  and  your  God.  —  John  xx.  11-17. 

The  most  highly  favored  of  the  holy  women  who  visited  the 
garden  tomb  on  Sunday  morning  was  Mary  Magdalene,  to 
whom  was  granted  a  special  revelation  of  the  risen  Lord.  She 
had  been  peering  into  the  open  sepulchre,  and,  questioned  by 
the  angels,  had  explained  the  cause  of  her  weeping,  when  she 
turned  about  and  saw  the  figure  of  one  whom  she  supposed  to 
be  the  gardener.  This  first  moment  of  seeing  Jesus,  when  as 
yet  he  was  unrevealed,  is  generally  passed  over  in  art  for  the 
sake  of  that  which  immediately  succeeds,  and  which  is  so  full 
of  pathos  when  she  first  recognizes  the  Master.  Burne-Jones, 
however,  has  selected  this  exceptional  subject  for  one  of  his 
well-known  paintings.  In  the  low  cave  two  angels  are  sitting 
one  at  each  end  of  the  sarcophagus,  with  flame-touched  fore- 
heads and  hushed  lips,  both  looking  and  one  pointing  towards 
the  Saviour  standing  without.  The  Magdalene  is  between  and 
in  front  of  them,  and,  turning  about  in  the  direction  of  the 


iuf-  hanO,  looks  niounifully  at  tbe  stnnger.  The  rnod^rn 
BT  owes  to  niotto  the  attitudes  and  gesturve  nt  tfae  atigols, 
he  older  artiat,  in  common  with  hie  predecessors,  show« 
lagdalcne  at  the  >Iast«r'a  foet.  The  familiar  voice  has 
I  her  by  naiue,  and  she  springs  forward  with  rapture  to 
it  Itabboni.  This  treatment  of  the  subject  is  generally 
n  as  the  Noli  me  Tangere,  the  Latin  form  of  the  risen 
t'a  next  words  to  Mary,  "  Touch  me  not."  It  is  qnit« 
ent  in  medireval  art,  particulttrly  in  iUuminat«<I  manil- 

the  original  composition,  as  seen  in  the  Monreale  mosaica 
xiimple,  the  Re<1eonier  carries  the  Resurrection  banner. 
feature  is  retained  by  Diiccio  (Passion  series  at  Siena) 
liotto  (Arena  Chapel,  I'adua),  as  well  as  by  the  author  of 
Ipnnish  rho|iel  fresco.  Occasionally  it  is  revived  by  the 
i  of  a  later  period,  as  by  Eianeeseo  Mantcgna  in  the  point- 
1  the  National  Gallery,  and  by  Martin  SeUpmt.aiter  in  one 
}  prints.  The  large  majority  of  artists,  however,  have 
t  at  the  idea  suggested  by  the  fact  that  Mary  at  first 
ok  the  Lord  for  the  gardener,  and  they  accordii)gly  give 
!ome  garden  tool  as  a  badge  of  ofiice,  a  hoe,  a  i^pade,  or 
a  pickaxe.  This  becomes,  as  it  were,  a  sort  of  emblem, 
tinguish  the  incident  from  any  other  similar  event,  It 
en  held  over  one  shoulder  or  in  the  hand,  almost  like  a 

e  Master's  attitude  is  quite  variously  interpreted.  Some- 
ho  seems  to  greet  Mary  with  affectionate  tenderness,  as 
md  from  whom  he  hna  been  separated ;  sometimes  he 
her  the  formal  benediction.  Again  the  emphasis  is  upon 
ijunction  that  she  should  not  touch  him,  and  his  out- 
hed  hand  gently  prevents  her.  This  was  the  idea  of  the 
painters,  hut  it  was  carried  to  excess  in  those  later  pic- 
where  the  Saviour  seems  to  shrink  from  the  Magdalene 
fearing  pollution,  drawing  his  mantle  alwut  him.  This  is 
itionin  Titian's  painting  in  the  National  Gallery,  Lon- 
md  seems  to  me  a  fault  in  an  otherwise  fine  picture, 
ere  is  an  interesting  work  by  Correggio  in  the  Prado 
py,  Madrid,  exhibiting  rather  a  unique  conception.  It 
to  indicate  the  concluding  message  of  the  interview,  for 
jord  points  heavenward  as  if  with  the  words,  "  I  ascend 
iny  Father,  and  your  Father;  to  my  God,  and  your  God." 


1  gesture  of  tlie  Magdalene  coiresponda  to  this  idea,  for 
ead  of  atretcliiiig  forth  hev  hands  to  touch  him,  she  throws 
n  hack  in  wondering  assent.  The  work  is  supposed  to  have 
1  painted  soon  after  the  master  had  formed  hia  own  peeal- 
artistic  methods,  and  shows  already  fine  effects  of  chiaro- 

^he  popularity  of  Mary  Magdalene  as  a  saint,  and  the  ]ean- 
of  art  towards  all  autjecte  introducing  pretty  women, 
ight  the  Noli  me  Tangere  into  special  favor  with  the  eanie 


FROM   THE   RESURRECTION   TO   THE    ASCENSION         OZM 

r  class  of  artists  who  painted  Clirist  and  the  Samaritan  Woman. 
In  fact  the  two  subjects  have  sometimes  been  treated  as  com- 
panion pictures.  There  are  instances  in  point  by  Lorenzo  di 
Credi  and  by  Filippino  Lippi.  By  the  former  there  are  twc 
pictures  of  the  Noli  me  Tangere,  essentially  alike  except  for  tht 
reversed  position  of  the  figures.  They  are  in  the  Louvre  Gal- 
lery, Paris,  and  in  the  Uffizi,  Florence.  Filippino  Lippi\^ 
picture  is  in  the  Seminario  at  Venice,  already  referred  to  as  ii 
work  of  delicate  beauty.  The  profile  of  the  Magdalene  is 
exquisitely  cut,  and  as  she  lifts  her  face  adoringly  to  the  Mas- 
ter he  bends  over  her  with  utmost  gentleness. 

A  work  by  Francesco  Mantegna,  in  the  National  Gallery. 
liOndon,  is  in  every  way  remarkable  for  suggestiveness  of  in- 
terpretation. Our  Lord  stands  on  a  rocky  platform  overhung 
with  a  grapevine  which  climbs  among  the  branches  of  a  deac 
tree  and  droops  in  clusters  of  purple  grapes  above  his  head. 
The  Magdalene  kneels  on  a  lower  level,  a  girlish  lovely  figure. 
In  an  upper  branch  of  the  tree  a  bird  is  defending  its  younc 
from  the  attacks  of  a  serpent,  and  on  the  ground  at  one  side 
is  a  beehive. 

Christ  appearing  to  the  Magdalene  is  the  subject  of  a  fine 
stained  glass  window  in  the  Walnut  Avenue  Church,  Roxbury 
Mass.,  designed  by  Frederick  Wilson.  The  figure  of  the  Christ 
is  very  impressive  as  he  stands  between  two  adoring  angels. 
Mary  kneels  in  the  foreground,  peering  into  the  Master's  face 

The  interest  which  St.  John's  minute  description  gives  U 
the  appearance  of  the  risen  Christ  to  Mary  Magdalene  com 
pletely  overshadows  the  narrative  of  St.  Matthew,  which  relates 
bow  Christ  also  appeared  to  the  other  holy  women.  The  lattei 
incident  has  not  been  the  subject  of  art,  a  single  exceptional 
instance  being  a  painting  by  Annibale  Caracci  in  the  Hermit 
age  Gallery,  St.  Petersburg.  It  is  also  likely  to  be  found  ir 
illustrated  Bibles,  as  Bida's  Evangelists  contain  an  etcliing  tc 
accompany  the  text  of  Matt,  xxviii.  9. 


IV.  Thb  Wau:  »  JEmxtn' 

Anil,  Iwliol'i,  Iwo  of  thrin  wriLl  that  tame  ila.V  t"  a  rillnge  called  Emnmu,'., 
liih  won  from  Jerurali'iii  almut  itireirwure  liirlnitgA. 

And  It  cainelo  piiM,tli>t,  while  iht'.v  wnimuncil  logcihcr  uiil  rensunvil,  .Icsut 
niwltdraw  nc&r,  bdiI  went  with  tbem. 

But  Ihcir  eyes  were  hDlden  Ihat  Ihey  ihoold  irnt  know  liini. 
And  he  said  unto  them,  What  ni«uiier  of  couitiiuuicktiuuB  arc  Iheae  thU 
have  oue  to  another,  as  ye  Walk,  ancl  are  Mil  Y 

And  the  one  of  tliem,  whose  name  was  rieoiia*,  nnswering  said  nitto  liim, 
t  tbou  unlj-  a  Blraiigcr  in  JeruBalem,  and  Iiul  not  kunwii  the  Ehinga  triikh 

And  he  Mid  uutu  them,  What  lbine«  ?  And  liii-j-  Mill  iinla  him,  Cunceru- 
;  Jeani  of  Naxaretli,  which  waa  a  )jru|ihel  iul(;hl}'  iu  dved  and  wonl  hofure 
id  uid  all  tha  penpio: 

And  how  the  cliief  priests  and  our  riiluni  iletivermt  him  to  lie  rimdeittncd  tc 
ith,  and  have  crudAed  him. 

And  they  drew  nigh  unto  thj  vilUge,  wliilher  Ihej-  went;  njid  he  mods  as 
lugh  he  would  have  ((oue  further. 

9ut  Ihojr  constrained  hiiu,  saying,  Abide  wiih  Us;  tor  it  is  toward  eyening, 
1  the  day  is  fur  B[ieut.  —  Luke  xxiv.  111-29. 

Toward  tlie  close  of  the  first  Easter  Sunday  the  risen  Lord 
ined  two  Clxristian  disciples  on  their  way  to  Emioaus,  and 
ifnliied  to  them  important  truth  couceruitig  himself.  Though 
ipresBcd  with  the  power  of  his  utterance  to  the  extent  of 
siring  to  hear  him  still  further,  they  did  not  at  first  awaken 

ft  recognition  of  his  identity.  Their  experieuce  corresponds 
ua  with  that  of  Mary  MngJalene,  and  in  hoth  eases  we  are 
turally  leas  interested  in  their  transient  misconception  than 

the  final  revelation.  Hence  the  auhject  of  the  Supper  at 
nmaus  so  far  overshadows  the  Walk  to  Eniraaua  that  we  are 
-t  surprised  to  leatn  that  the  latter  has  been  hut  little  treated 

It  is  extremely  interesting  to  find  the  suhject  in  the  mosaics 
S.  Teodoro,  Rome,  The  three  figures  are  walking  ahreast 
wards  its,  Christ  in  the  middle.  At  one  side  is  the  gate  of 
e  town,  to  which  one  of  the  disciples  gestures  while  the 
her'a  hand  is  raised  in  surprise  as  Christ  gives  the  benedic- 
lu.  The  rare  subject  is  also  found  on  a  twelfth  century 
ndow  in  Chaitres  Cathedral. 

Duccio's  composition  in  the  Siena  Passion  series  is  the  first 
xlern  example.     The  three  men  stand  just  before  a  city  gate, 


looking  and  pointing  to  it.  Tlie  disciples  are  in  advance,  am 
one  turns  to  Jeaua,  who  is  just  behind  them,  olud  as  a  pilgrim 
We  owe  to  Lady  Eaatlake  the  explanation  of  the  pilgrim  cos 
tume  as  due  to  the  use  of  the  Latin  word  peret/i-iiiiis  iu  tht 
text  familiar  to  the  early  Italian  painters.  This  woiil  hat 
gathered  about  it  certain  associations  of  pi Igi' images,  such  a: 
the  staff  and  scrip,  the  shell-adorned  hat  and  the  short  tunic 


<Altobello  de'  Melloui) 


and  all  these  features  were  transferred  to  the  pictorial  repre- 
sentations of  him  who  had  been  described  as  a  j)ereff}-iniis  or 
stranger  in  Jerusalem. 

The  same  costume  is  iised  in  the  Walk  to  Emniaua  by 
Altobello  de'  Melloni,  an  interesting  painting  in  the  Kational 
Gallery,  London,     The  disguise  of  the  Saviour  U  indeed  ao 


id  iu  this  unique  and  picturesque  garb  that  we  should 

identify  him  among  the  three  figures  but  for  the  nail- 

:s  in  his  hands.     He  is  a  sweet,  youthful  figure  compared 

the  two  older  meUi  one  of  whom  is  evidently  Peter. 

young  stranger  lays  his  hand  in  a  friendly  way  upon 
shoulder  of  the  apostle,  liaving  evidently  just  overti^en 
;wo,  and  both  turn  to  look  at  him. 

Flemish  artist  of  not  much  later  date  than  Altobello  de' 
oni  also  (Kiiuted  tlio  subject  of  the  Walk  to  Emmaus,  but 

it  only  as  a  title  for  a  landscape,  —  Henri  de  Bles,  in  a 
ire  in  the  l^lvedere  Gallery,  Vienna.  The  picture  is  of 
i  interest  to  students  of  the  history  of  landsoeipe  art,  but 
;hree  figures  are  so  small,  as  they  are  seen  pursuing  their 
along  a  winding  road  at  one  side,  that  we  have  no  notion 
icir  action  and  meaning. 

iie  modern  (zcrman  painter  Plockhorst  includes  the  Walk 
]mmaus  among  his  many  sacred  subjects,  treated  with 
e  reverence  though  with  no  great  strength. 

V.  TiiK  Supper  at  Emmaus 

i  ho,  went  in  Ut  tarry  "vvitli  thfni. 

i  it  t'june  to  pass,  as  hi*  sat  at  meat  with  tht'm,  he  took  bread,  and  blessed 

I  brake,  and  pive  to  them. 

I  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew  him;  and  he  vanished  out  of 

sight.  —  LuKK  xxiv.  2\}-''il. 

was  ill  the  blessing  and  breaking  of  bread  that  the  risen 

revealed  himself  to  the  two  disciples  whose  guest  he  was 

niniaus.     This  fact  gives  a  sacramental  cliaracter  to  the 

t,  which  connects  it  religiously  and  artistically  with  the 

Supper.     It  will  be  remembered   that  tlie  jNlarriage  at 

and  the  Multiplication  of  Loaves  had  also  in  early  art 

ramental  significance,  and  were  the  first  art  forms  in  which 

subject  was  represented.     The  Last   Supper  followed  in 

iss  of  time,  though  not  very  early,  and  entered  into  the 

;al  art  series  of  Christ's  life.     The   Supper  at  Emmaus 

introduced  much   later  and  was   not   included   in   serial 

ments.      It  was  affected   chiefly  by   the  painters    of   the 

-tian  Renaissance,  who  were  glad  to  add  to  their  reper- 

another  sacred  subject  which  could  be  handled  as  a  feast 


FROM  THE  RESURKECTION  TO  THE  ASCENSION    333 

The  Evangelist's  narrative  leaves  the  description  of  the 
environment  to  the  reader's  imagination.  It  is  thought  that 
the  disciples  may  have  invited  Jesiis  to  some  sort  of  inn 
where  a  supper  was  served  to  them.  This  supposition  admits 
to  the  scene  other  persons  besides  the  three  chiefly  concerned. 
The  Venetians,  indeed,  increased  the  number  at  pleasure,  and 
sometimes  transformed  the  occasion  into  a  rich  banquet.  The 
guests  are  seated  at  the  rear  of  a  table  running  lengthwise 
across  the  composition,  with  Christ  in  the  centre,  usually  (not 
always)  holding  the  loaf  in  one  hand  while  he  lifts  the  othei 
in  blessing.  The  two  disciples  start  forward  with  awed  sur- 
prise at  the  sudden  revelation. 

By  Marco  .Marziale,  in  the  Venice  Academy,  is  a  painting 
interesting  to  the  connoisseur  for  its  curious  blending  of  Vene- 
tian color  and  manner  with  types  of  character  and  minuteness  oi 
finish  which  are  strongly  German.  The  head  of  Christ  is  of  in- 
significant interest  compared  with  the  strong  individualization 
of  the  two  pilgrim-clad  disciples.  The  composition  includes, 
besides  the  three  necessary  figures,  two  attendants  standing 
one  on  each  side  of  the  Saviour. 

Titian's  painting  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  is  another  case  where 
the  disciples  overshadow  the  Christ,  for  in  this  instance  they 
are  persons  of  no  less  dignity  than  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 
and  the  Cardinal  Ximenes,  between  whom  the  central  figure 
is  of  comparatively  slight  interest.  The  composition  con- 
tains, in  addition,  the  innkeeper  and  a  page  in  attendance. 

Carpaccio's  altar-piece  in  S.  Salvatore,  Venice,  is,  on  the 
other  hand,  remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  the  Christ.  His 
somewhat  isolated  position  in  the  centre  of  the  picture  brings 
him  into  dignified  prominence.  The  faultless  regularity  of  his 
features,  and  the  grandeur  of  his  bearing  are  unsurpassed.  At 
either  end  of  the  table  are  two  other  figures,  those  in  the  fore- 
ground being  presumably  the  disciples,  while  the  others  may 
represent  the  host  and  a  chance  guest.  They  are  all  intensely 
interesting  and  finely  dififerentiated.  The  entire  character  oi 
the  scene  is  sacramental  rather  than  dramatic,  as  befits  an  altar- 
piece.  The  attitudes  and  expression  of  the  disciples  are  con- 
templative, receiving  the  revelation  without  surprise,  but  with 
quiet  reverence. 

Veronese,  although  giving  the  subject  a  much  more  festive 
aspect^  handles  it  aUq  ^ith  reverence.     A  number  of  guests 


tro.lin'fii,  nml  thii  [lictnre  is  n  vrrilnblc  Vei 

contiiining  jtortruil  tigiirGs  of  the  various  raenbera  irf 
aiiiter's  IkhircIiuIiI,  am<iiig  thciii  a  liitlp  girl  fandliitg  a 

Inunugruous  us  it  is,  this  fiict  iluva  nnt  seem  an  offcnee 
Hit-  couipuiiy  is  Btitirelj  deconius.     Above  all,  tlje  Christ 

is  noble  uikI  iligiiined,  giving  coheruicc  and  moauing  to 
»raposit)oii.  Vi'miieae's  most  notable  painting's  of  tfais 
ire  in  t]je  Ijouvre,  Paris,  aiid  in  the  Dresden  Gnlleiy. 
e  important  examples  (rom  northern  art  of  Ibc  Slipper 
iniaus  belong  to  the  Beveiiteenth  century.  Rubens,  wlio 
)ft  scarcely  any  aaered  snliject  nntoiiched,  painted  it  ih 
nro  now  iu  the  Madrid  Gallery.  The  tnhk-  is  laid  in  a 
pd  ball  looking  out  im  n  InndRcnpu.  C'lirist  fiits  at  tba 
end,  seen  in  profile,  while  the  disciples  are  at  the  two 
ite  corners.  As  the  risen  Saviour  makes  himself  Icnovm 
e  usTiftl  action,  the  two  men  esprees  their  amsnenient  at 
(velation,  the  one  in  the  rear  rising  to  lean  ovor  the  table 
removes  his  hat. 

Gaspard  de  Craeyer,  a  follower  of  Rnbens,  there  1b  a 
ng  of  the  snbject  in  the  Berlin  Gallery, 
t  the  simplest  and  most  impressive  picture  of  the  Snpper 
amaua  is  by  Ecnibrandt,  in  the  Lonvre,  Paris.      Even 

it  is  reduced  to  black  and  white  one  cannot  look  at 

hout  being  deeply  moved  by  the  pathos  in  the  fac«  of 

He  is  the  simjde,  homely  peasant  we  have  again  and 

seen  on  Rembrandt's  canvases,  but  never  before  so  ap- 
g  and  lovable.  He  raises  his,  eyes  to  heaven,  and  the 
les,  who  are  alone  with  bim,  awaken  suddenly  to  the 
lition  of  their  guest.  Those  who  have  first  known  this 
e  through  jibotograpbs  and  ejigmvings  are  scarcely  pw- 

for  the  beauty  of  the  painting,  however  familiar  they 
be  with  Rembrandt's  manner.  The  pure  transparent 
1   light  which  radiates  from    the  centre  ia  beyond  all 

beautiful. 

nhrandt  also  made  some  etchings  of  the  subject  of  fh.e 
ir  at  Emmaus, 

}  Supper  at  Emmaus  is  a  rather  frequent  subject  in  mod- 
icred  art,  particularly  in  church  decoration.  Its  value 
le  latter  purpose  as  significant  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is 
apparent.  It  not  only  occupies  less  space  than  the  Last 
IT  itself,  but  is  much  less  difficult  compositionally.     Some 


FROM  THE  RESURRECTION  TO  THE  ASCENSION    33^ 

well-known  examples  in  our  own  country  are  the  carved  oal 
reredos  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Lynchburg,  Virginia,  and  a  win 
dow  in  St.  Mark's  Church,  Mauch  Chunk,  Pennsylvania,  de 
signed  by  Frederick  Wilson.  In  the  Central  Congregationa 
Church,  Boston,  is  a  window  portraying  the  moment  of  the 
invitation.  The  table  is  in  the  rear  and  all  three  figures  an 
standing,  the  elder  disciple  extending  his  hand  to  Christ,  as  h 
to  say,  **  Abide  with  us."     The  design  is  by  E.  P.  Sperry. 

The  number  of  separate  paintings  of  the  subject  by  moderr 
artists  is  considerable,  and  includes  the  work  of  such  widel} 
dissimilar  men  as  Hofmann  and  Carl  MUller  as  representatives 
of  the  traditional  Italian  type,  Ford  Madox  Brown  from  the 
English  pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood,  Dagnan-Bouveret  of  the 
French  school,  and  Fritz  von  Uhde  and  L'Hermitte  from  the  so- 
called  "  mystic  realism."  As  is  well  known,  the  two  mystic 
realists  place  the  Supper  at  Emmaus  in  the  humble  room  oi 
a  laborer  of  our  own  day.  The  disciples  are  simple  peasants, 
and  Our  Lord  differs  from  them  only  in  the  delicate  spiritu- 
ality of  his  face.  The  solemn  and  reverent  spirit  of  the  con- 
ception cannot  escape  the  most  unobserving  and  prejudiced. 
The  Supper  is  a  true  sacrament.  L'Hermitte's  painting  is 
in  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts,  Boston. 


VI.    The  Unbelief  of  Thomas 

And  after  eight  days  again  his  disciples  were  within,  and  Thomas  with 
them:  then  came  Jesus,  the  doors  being  shut,  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and 
said.  Peace  be  unto  you. 

Then  saith  he  to  Thomas,  Reach  hither  thy  finger,  and  behold  my  hands 
and  reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my  side :  and  be  not  faithless, 
but  believing. 

And  Thomas  answered  and  said  unto  him.  My  Lord  and  my  God. 

Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast  be^ 
lieved:  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed.  —  John 
XX.  26-29. 

It  was  on  one  of  the  occasions  when  the  risen  Christ  ap- 
peared in  the  midst  of  his  assembled  disciples  that  he  cleared 
away  the  doubts  of  Thomas  by  the  demonstration  of  his  iden- 
tity. Historically  considered,  therefore,  the  art  representa- 
tions of  the  subject  should  contain  twelve  figures.  Our  Lord 
and  the  eleven  apostles.  Often,  however,  in  the  final  develop- 
ment of  the  subject,  the  two  chief  persons  are  withdrawn  from 


surroundings  and  constitute  the  whole  material  for  the 
(sition.  Sometimes  the  subject  is  treated  as  an  altar- 
and  it  even  forms  a  group  for  sculpture.  In  point  of 
the  subject  dates  from  early  mediaeval  art  series  and  is 
I  the  mosaics  of  Monreale  and  the  bas-reliefs  of  the 
column. 

3  narrative  contains  at  least  three  moments  in  the  action 
are  suitable  for  illustration,  the  touching  of  the  wounded 
,  the  examination  of  the  wounded  side,  and  the  devout 
ision  of  the  apostle,  "My  Lord  and  my  Grod."  With 
litativo  unanimity  which  so  often  becomes  monotonous, 
is  selected  for  8i>ecial  emphasis  Our  Lord's  command, 
cli  hitlier  tliy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my  side.''  Tlie 
Saviour  stands,  therefore,  in  the  commanding  attitude 
3sod  by  these  words,  raising  the  right  arm  in  some  gesture 
:  leaves  tlie  side  exposed.  The  figure  was  at  first  fully 
I,  the  folds  of  the  garment  being  drawn  aside  with  the 
and  to  disclose  tlie  spear  wound.  In  later  art,  the  gar- 
is  a  mantle  hung  loosely  over  the  left  shoulder,  and  at 
.  slips  down  to  the  loins,  leaving  the  entire  torso  nude, 
the  resurrection  banner  is  carried  in  Christ's  left  hand, 
as  is  extending  his  hand  towards  tlie  spear  wound,  or 
actually  toucliing  it,  sometimes  kneeling  for  the  purpose 
almost  ceremonial  reverence. 

ough  there  are  many  really  fine  pictures  of  the  subject, 
eatment  is  usually  ratlier  formal.  The  apostle  is  not  a 
[le  doubter ;  his  investigations  seem  perfunctory  rather 
curious.  Duccio,  however,  had  a  vivid  realization  of 
ramatic  quality  of  the  incident,  the  breathless  suspense 
lomas,  and  the  tender  expectancy  of  tlie  Saviour.  His 
e  has  never  been  surpassed  for  subtle  interpretation 
ned  with  compositional  excellence.  The  entire  company 
Dstles  is  present,  grouped  effectively  against  the  architec- 
background.  Our  Lord's  figure  is  seen  in  front  of  a 
and  floats  just  above  the  pavement,  to  suggest  the  ethe- 
[uality  of  that  presence  which  had  suddenly  appeared 
h  the  doors  were  closed.  His  drapery  is  delicately  illu- 
ed  by  gold  lines  as  a  distinguishing  sign  of  his  risen 
AVitli  his  right  arm  raised  majestically,  he  turns  to 
at  tlie  doubting  disciple,  a  beardless  youth,  who  ap- 
les  wavering  and  timid,  his  face  filled  with  an  almost 


agonized  anxiety.  The  picture  is  a  part  of  the  predella  be^ 
longing  to  the  same  altar-piece  at  Siena  of  which  the  Passion 
series  is  a  part. 

The  lack  of  dramatic  interest  in  the  average  picture  of  the 
subject  is  to  some  extent  atoned  for  by  the  spirit  of  reverent 


Clicifll  and  Thomas  (Verocchio) 


solemnity  which  pervades  most  of  these  works.  The  apostle 
even  while  be  puts  forth  his  hand,  seems  about  to  exclaim 
"  My  Lord  and  my  God."  This  is  preeminently  true  of  tin 
painting  by  Morando  in  the  Verona  Gallery.  The  apostli 
kneels  at  the  left,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  wound  and  his  fact 
full  of  awed  surprise.  The  Saviour  leans  slightly  towards  hin 
and  searches  his  face  with  a  gentle  penetrating  glance.     Thi 


ipositiou  is  lengthened  to  include  the  connecting  incidents, 

Ascension,  represented  at  the  left  side  in  the  background, 

the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  on  the  right. 

Dhere  are  two  accredited  pictures  of  the  Unbelief  of  Thomas 

the  Venetian  painter  Gima  da  Gonegliano.     One  of  these  is 

altar-piece  in  the  Venice  Academy,  where  the  treatment 

lealizcd  by  the  introduction  of  an  attendant  saint  bearing 

)ok  and  crosier.     The  action  of  the  Saviour  is  here  unique, 

hand  guiding  that  of  the  apostle   to  find  the  wound  in 

side.     The  picture  is  considered  a  typical  example  of  the 

st's  style,  and  is  admirable  in  color  and  in  the  drawing  of 

heads. 

)f  quite  another  character  is  Cima's  |)ainting  in  the  National 
lery,  London,  which  gives  the  incident  the  full  historical 
ing  within  an  inclosed  room,  the  eleven  apostles  witnessing 
experience  of  the  doubter. 

?here  is  in  the  Louvre,  Paris,  a  picture  by  a  late  Italian 
iter,  Gecchino  del  Salviati,  which  also  contains  the  entire 
mbly  of  the  apostles  ranged  in  a  close  semicircle  in  the 
Our  Lord  raises  both  hands,  palms  out,  and  Thomas 
els,  thrusting  his  finger  into  the  side. 

)Urer's  composition  in  the  Little  Passion  series  belongs  to 
class  of  pictures.  Christ  stands  in  the  foreground,  be- 
en Thomas  and  Peter,  while  the  heads  of  the  other  disci- 
i  are  seen  in  the  rear  at  either  side.  The  Saviour  wears 
J  a  loin  cloth  and  a  long  flowing  mantle  fastened  at  the 
)at,  which  falls  entirely  away  from  his  figure.  He  grasps 
wrist  of  Thomas,  holding  it  to  his  side,  and  with  the 
3r  hand  points  up  as  if  to  say,   "Be  not  faithless,  but 


eying." 


L  celebrated  treatment  of  the  Unbelief  of  Thomas  is  the 
ptured  bronze  group  by  Verocchio  in  one  of  the  niches 
imcnting  the  exterior  of  the  Church  of  Or  San  Michele, 
rence.  Both  faces  are  very  beautiful  and  expressive, 
lied  in  abundant  curls  falling  to  the  shoulders.  Thomas  is 
ilicate,  boyish  figure,  standing  under  the  arm  of  the  Saviour 
extending  his  finger  daintily  towards  the  wounded  side, 
le  the  gentle  Christ  looks  down  beneficently, 
-he  composition  was  imitated  by  Giovanni  della  Robbia  in 
'oup  formerly  at  San  Jacopo  de  Ripoli,  Florence,  and  now 
he  Conservatorio  della  Quiete. 


The  half-length  pictures  of  later  art  form  a  class  by  them- 
selves. Thus  treated  the  subject  was  a  favorite  with  Guer- 
cino,  one  such  picture  being  in  the  Vatican  Gallery,  Rome. 
The  two  faces  are  brought  opposite  in  profile,  Christ  refined 
and  handsome,  but  not  strong,  Thomas  earnest  and  intent. 
Four  other  figures  are  added  as  spectators.  In  the  same  gen- 
eral style  are  paintings  by  Rubens  and  Van  Dyck,  but  these 
Flemish  artists  introduce  a  motif  which  has  apparently  never 
before  been  treated.  This  is  the  examination  of  the  Saviour's 
hands  instead  of  his  side.  The  painting  by  Rubens  is  in 
the  Antwerp  Gallery  and  shows  Christ  at  the  left  in  profile, 
undraped  to  the  waist.  Thomas  and  Peter  bend  over  his  left 
hand,  examining  the  nail  print  with  wonder,  and  behind  them 
stands  John  looking  directly  into  his  Master's  face,  as  one 
blessed  in  that,  though  not  having  seen,  he  has  yet  believed. 

The  similar  picture  by  Van  Dyck  is  in  the  Hermitage  Gal- 
lery, St.  Petersburg.  Though  this  also  contains  three  disci- 
ples, it  is  Thomas  alone  who  looks  at  the  hand,  while  the 
others  stand  behind  him. 


VII.    The  Ascension 

And  he  led  them  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany,  and  he  lifted  up  his  hands,  anc 
blessed  them. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  while  he  blessed  them,  he  was  parted  from  them,  anc 
carried  up  into  heaven.  —  Luke  xxiv.  50,  51. 

And  a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight. 

And  while  they  looked  stedfastly  toward  heaven  as  he  went  up,  behold, 
two  men  stood  by  them  in  white  apparel ; 

Which  also  said,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven  '; 
this  same  Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into  heaven,  shall  so  come  inlik( 
manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven.  —  Acts  i.  9-11. 

As  the  prophecy  of  the  Transfiguration  was  fulfilled  in  th( 
Resurrection,  so  the  Kesurrection  in  turn  was  completed  b} 
the  Ascension.  The  three  incidents  are  indissolubly  connected 
by  Our  Lord's  own  words,  and  the  connection  is  made  apparent 
in  art  both  by  the  compositional  forms  which  they  have  devel 
oped  in  common  and  by  their  association  as  companion  subjects. 
The  Ascension,  however,  like  the  Transfiguration  was  attestec 
by  eye-witnesses,  and  hence,  like  it,  is  a  more  legitimate  sub 
ject  for  the  imagination  than  the  unwitnessed  glory  of  the 
Resurrection.     Its  history  as  an  art  subject  is  therefore  nearly 


Uel  with  tlio  Tranfifi^iiratioii,  aud  ft,r  tlie 
Biust  ((O  back  to  medieval iani.  These  early  re[>reAMittl*— 
1  appear  in  three  different  forms,  each  one  of  which  be- 
i  a  model  for  succeeding  genenttiuns.  In  one,  Ihe  figurs 
be  ascending  Christ,  with  or  without  the  inondoria.  ie  pre. 
fcd  in  profile  in  the  attitude  i>f  Etepjiing  up  tn  a  higher 
I,  the  bands  outstretched  to  take  the  extended  hand  of 
Fiitlier.  This  is  illustrated  in  the  "  liible  of  St.  l'anl,"a 
Uscript  of  the  ninth  centnry  go  called  from  linving  fofr 
J  been  in  a  monastery  of  St.  I'aul.  whence  it  was  removBd 
be  archives  of  St.  Calixtus,  Borne.      The  miniature  is  » 

interesting  composition,  representing  in  the  lower  part 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  while  the  Ascension,  as  above 
ribed,  occnpins  the  upjwr  part. 

dotto  was  perhaps  the  last  to  follow  this  style  of  coinpoai- 
i  and  he  put  into  it  all  the  beautiful  earnestness  of  early- 
istian  feeling.  His  fresco  in  the  Arena  Chapel,  Padna,  ia 
ed  perishing,  hut  the  conii«3sition  is  preserved  by  all  lll6 
em  processea  of  reproduction.  The  ascending  Christ 
hea  eager  hands  upward,  while  double  rows  of  adoring 
rls  welcome  his  advent.    The  kneeling  comjiany  below  con- 

of  the  eleven  faithful  disciples  and  the  Virgin  mother. 
It  attention  is  iixed  upon  two  angels  who  Hoat  in  the  centre 
above  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  hands  pointed  upward 
mphasize  their  question,  "  Why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into 
'en  ?  " 

Jiother  style  of  composition  common  in  mediteval  art  ia 
re  the  figure  of  the  Saviour  is  supposed  to  havo  already 
ed  into  the  cloud  and  we  see  only  the  feet  in  the  upper 

of  the  picture.  There  axe  two  or  three  interesting  exam^ 
of  this  quaint  device  in  the  collection  of  miniatures  belong- 
to  Mr.  Thomas  V.  Richardson  and  Mrs.  C.  C.  Perkins, 
Hted  in  the  Mnseum  of  Tine  Arts,  Boston.  Strange  to 
BO  late  Italian  painters  as  'Fra  Angelico  and  Lorenzo  Lotto 
iwed  this  okl-tinie  method.  In  Germany,  also,  DUrer  used 
Bame  style  of  composition  in  the  wood-cut  of  hia  Little 
don  series, 

.  third  form  of  the  Ascension  is  that  which  the  subject  has 
rommon  with  the  Transfiguration   and    the  Resurrection, 

Saviour  is  a  full-length  figure,  lifted  above  the  surface 
ae  earth  in  a  mandorla,  and  faciug  directly  out  of  the  pin- 


ture  in  a  passive  attitude.  Two  interesting  plates  in  West- 
wood's  "Facsimiles  of  the  Miniatures  of  Anglo-Saxon  and 
Irish  Manuscripts  "  show  this  kind  of  composition  in  minia- 
tures reproduced  from  the  Benedictionale  of  Athelwold,  Bishoj: 
of  Winchester  in  the  tenth  century,  and  from  the  Psalter  oi 
King  Athelstan  (ninth  century)  now  in  the  British  Museum. 
London.  Others  of  the  same  sort  are  frequent  in  schools  oi 
miniature  painting. 

It  is  in  line  with  these  compositions  that  we  should  place 
the  terra-cotta  bas-relief  of  Luca  della  Robbia  which  forms  the 
companion  lunette  of  the  Resurrection  already  referred  to  in 
the  Duomo  at  Florence.  The  conception  is  even  more  elevated 
than  that  of  the  Resurrection.  The  Saviour  has  risen  but  a 
little  space  above  the  earth,  and  the  long  sweeping  lines  of  the 
figure  and  drapery  produce  an  effect  of  unusual  lightness  and 
buoyancy.  His  face  is  noble  and  beneficent.  The  apostles 
kneel  below  in  two  groups  of  six  each,  the  Virgin  taking  the 
place  of  the  recreant  Judas  and  bringing  the  number  to  the 
old  complement.  The  eyes  of  the  company  are  fixed  upon 
the  Saviour,  who  has  just  been  caught  up  from  their  midst, 
the  moment  being  earlier  than  that  of  Giotto's  composition, 
and  the  angels  not  yet  having  appeared  to  claim  their  atten- 
tion. Nothing  can  exceed  in  fervent  piety  the  expression  of 
the  uplifted  faces.  Mingled  love  and  joy  and  adoration  are 
written  therein,  and  it  would  be  difficult,  indeed  impossible, 
in  the  whole  range  of  Christian  art  to  find  anything  better  of 
the  kind. 

By  Andrea  della  Robbia  also,  at  Verna,  there  is  an  admira- 
ble bas-relief  tabernacle  of  Christ  ascending  between  rows  of 
adoring  angels. 

•An  important  example  of  the  subject  of  the  Ascension  is 
the  painting  by  Perugino  in  the  Museum  at  Lyons,  being  the 
central  panel  of  an  altar-piece  originally  painted  for  S.  Pietro, 
Perugia.  The  treatment  is  here  idealized  rather  than  strictly 
historical.  The  usual  company  below  is  increased  by  the  addi- 
tion of  the  later  apostles,  Matthias  and  Paul.  All  are  stand- 
ing, the  Virgin  alone  directly  under  the  ascending  Saviour's 
mandorla,  and  the  others  arranged  in  symmetrical  groups  at 
right  and  left.  There  is  but  imperfect  unity  of  action  among 
them;  some  are  gazing  up  into  the  heavens,  but  others  are 
wrapt  in  contemplation.     Just  above  hover  two  angels  bearing 


lis  inscribed  with  the  text  of  the  eleventh  verse  of  first 
3.  Ill  the  upper  stratum  of  the  picture  is  a  row  of  musical 
3l8.  The  figure  of  Christ  is  as  entirely  passive  as  in  the 
e  artist's  similarly  composed  pictures  of  the  Transfiguration 
Resurrection.  There  is  no  suggestion  of  lightness  in  the 
e,  least  of  all  anything  of  upward  motion,  but  the  concep- 

is  that  of  a  beneficent  vision  rather  than  of  an  actual 
nding,  an  idea  eminently  appropriate  to  the  Transfigura- 
f  but  not  according  to  the  spiiit  of  the  Ascension, 
[antegna's  Ascension  in  the  Uffizi  Grallery,  Florence,  is  the 
b  attractive  panel  of  a  fine  triptych.  The  most  noticeable 
t  is  that  the  mandorla  is  so  heavily  weighted  With  the  solid 
3  of  cherub  heads  which  compose  it.  The  figure  of  Christ 
)cn  in  the  interior  as  if  in  some  movable  car  or  elevator 
;h  is  to  bear  him  out  of  the  sight  of  the  disciples, 
intoretto's  Ascension  in  the  S.  Bocco  series,  Venice,  is  so 
Ice  any  other  composition  that  it  cannot  be  classified.  The 
t  has  given  free  rein  to  the  imagination,  and  has  con- 
3d  in  a  poetic  and  beautiful  way  an  Ascension  effected  by 
is  of  a  company  of  angels.  High  in  the  upper  air,  as  if 
ing  out  of  the  picture,  while  wo  still  gaze,  Christ  is  up- 
e  in  the  midst  of  angels  circling  about  him  in  all  sorts  of 
udes,  the  edges  of  their  Avings  forming  curved  radii  like 
1  branches  ("  like  sword  blades/'  says  Rusk  in).  It  is  as 
e  heavens  had  opened  to  show  what  took  place  after  the 
pies  had  ceased  watching  from  below.  The  earth  scene 
jad  of  the  usual  company  gathered  on  the  hilltop  is  a  sort 
anoramic  view  of  the  forty  days  between  the  Resurrection 
Ascension. 

orreggio's  fresco  in  the  cupola  of  S.  Giovanni  Evangelista, 
na,  is  usually  referred  to  under  the  title  of  the  Ascension, 
it  is  rather  a  great  decorative  composition  of  the  glorified 
st  with  the  apostles  on  clouds  and  a  countless  host  of 
anting  cherubs  filling  in  available  spaces, 
he  only  notable  Ascension  of  contemporary  art  is  the  grand 
ting  by  La  Farge  in  the  Church  of  the  Ascension,  New 
c  city.  This  occupies  a  wall  of  the  entire  width  of  the 
I  and  half  the  height  of  the  whole  edifice,  framed  in  a 
tiful  architectural  arch.     With  this  scale  of  treatment  we 

magnificent  distances  across  the  hilly  landscape  and  an 
)sphere  which  seems  to  extend  into  the  very  cloud  regions. 


In  these  limitless  spaces  the  spirit  of  the  worshiper  finds  widest 
liberty,  and  the  impression  is  not  spoiled  by  any  overcrowding 
of  figures.  The  eleven  apostles  stand  below  in  a  compact 
group,  and  the  space  between  this  company  and  the  edges  of 
the  picture  is  broken  by  the  approach  of  the  two  angels  on 
one  side  and  the  Virgin  on  the  other.  Far,  far  above  in  upper 
air  rises  the  beautiful  and  dignified  figure  of  the  Saviour.  It 
is  perhaps  only  by  contrast  to  the  attempts  of  others  that  we 
can  understand  the  reasons  for  our  satisfaction  in  the  perfect 
poise  of  this  figure,  spirited,  yet  free  from  any  exaggerated 
buoyancy,  quietly  steady  without  heaviness.  Adoring  angels 
form  long  curves  at  wide  spaces  on  each  side,  and,  attended  by 
this  celestial  company,  the  Saviour  rises  into  the  heavens. 

The  Ascension  of  Our  Lord  brings  to  a  close  the  great 
drama  of  the  Incarnation,  but  in  the  history  of  Christian  faith 
it  is  the  introductory  chapter.  The  faces  gazing  into  heaven 
for  a  last  fond  look  at  the  receding  figure  of  the  Saviour  have 
lost  all  traces  of  the  agonized  sorrow  with  which  they  wit- 
nessed the  Crucifixion.  The  mystery  has  been  unfolded,  and 
in  place  of  the  agony  of  separation  there  is  now  the  joy  of 
anticipation :  the  ascending  Lord  is  to  be  represented  by  the 
descending  Spirit. 

The  inseparable  connection  between  the  Ascension  and  the 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  has  been  clearly  manifest  in  art. 
The  two  subjects  are  often  combined  in  a  single  composition, 
and  often  make  companion  pictures.  But  even  when  the 
Ascension  is  treated  by  itself  the  implication  is  the  same. 
The  keynote  of  the  composition  is  the  rapture  of  the  Saviour's 
parting  promise,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the 
end  of  the  world.     Amen." 


INDEX  OF  AETISTS 


J 


Aldegrever,  Heinrich,  Good  Samari- 
tan, 178;  Parable  of  Kich  Man  and 
Lazarus,  '206. 

Altdorfer,  Albrecht,  Parable  of  Sower, 
140. 

Angellco,  Fra,  Annunciation,  24,  26; 
Naming  of  St.  John  Baptist,  35, 36 ; 
Sermon  on  Mount,  128 ;  Transfigura- 
tion, 167;  Crucifixion,  302;  Descent 
from  Cross,  306 ;  Women  at  Tomb, 
322, 323.  Series  of  panels,  11 ;  Circum- 
cision, 52;  Flight  into  Egypt,  68; 
Christ  found  in  the  Temple,  76 ;  Bap- 
tism, 84;  Marriage  at  Cana,  96; 
Transfiguration,  167;  Raising  of 
Lazarus,  187 ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem, 
228;  Last  Supper,  240,  244;  Christ 
washing  Disciples'  Feet,  248;  Be- 
trayal, 260;  Christ  led  away  Cap- 
tive, 260;  Christ  before  Caiaphas,  263, 
265 ;  Mocking,  266,  267 ;  Flagellation, 
276 ;  Christ  led  to  Calvary,  288 ;  Christ 
stripped  of  his  Garments,  291 ;  Depo- 
sition, 308  ;  Descent  into  Limbus,  314 ; 
Women  at  Tomb,  322;  Ascension, 
340. 

Antonio,  Marc,  engraving  after  Ra- 
phael's Massacre  of  Innocents,  72. 

Aspertini,  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  37. 

Bagnacavallo,  Circumcision  incor- 
rectly attributed  to,  53  n. 

Barna,  frescoes  at  S.  Gemignano,  10 ; 
Marriage  at  Cana,  95 ;  Transfigura- 
tion, 167. 

Barocci,  F.,  Call  of  Peter  and  Andrew, 
108. 

Bartolommeo,  Annunciation,  24;  Cir- 
cumcision, 52,  53 ;  Presentation,  57 ; 
Deposition,  310. 

Bartolommeo,  Michelozzo  di,  silver 
bas-relief,  18. 

Basaiti,  Call  of  James  and  John,  two 
pictures  of,  108,  ill. 

Bassano,  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  50. 
See  also  da  Ponte  family. 

Bassano  (da  Ponte),  Francesco,  Good 
Samaritan,  178. 

Bassano  (da  Ponte),  Jacopo,  Feast  in 
House  of  Simon,  138;  Sower,  142; 
Good  Samaritan,  two  pictures  of, 
178 ;  Feast  of  Dives,  204. 

Bassano  (da  Ponte),  Leandro,  Raising 
of  Lazarus,  188 ;  Agony  in  Garden, 
254,256. 


Batoni.  Prodigal's  Return,  201. 
Bazzi  (il  Sodoma),  Christ  feeding  tl 

Five  Thousand,  158,  159;  Kesurre 

tion,  316. 
Beckingham,  Arthur,   Prodigal   So 

201. 

Beham,  Hans,  Prodigal  Son,  197. 

Bellini,  Giovanni,  Circumcision,  6: 
Baptism,  84,  85,  86;  Transfigur 
tion,  167 ;  Agony  in  Garden,  254, 25 
256. 

Bellini,  Jacopo,  sketch-book,  12. 

Bembi,  Adoration  of  Kings,  13;  Pr 
sentation,  13. 

Berchem,  Angel  appearing  to  She 
herds,  39. 

Bida,  Alexandre,  "Les  Saints  Eva 
giles,"  15;  Dream  of  Joseph,  3( 
Journey  of  the  Wise  Men,  43 ;  Clean 
ing  of  the  Temple,  99;  Discours 
with  Nicodemus,  102 ;  Call  of  Apo 
ties,  108 ;  Leper  Cleansed,  118 ;  Pa 
alytic  Healed,  120;  Call  of  Matthew 
122 ;  Miracle  at  Bethesda,  126 ;  Ma 
with  Withered  Hand,  127;  Sermc 
on  Mount,  130 ;  Healing  Centurion 
Servant,  131 ;  Raising  Widow's  Sc 
at  Nain,  133, 134 ;  Feast  in  House  ( 
Simon,  139;  Parable  of  the  Sowe 
142;  Christ  stilling  the  Tempes 
145 ;  Daughter  of  Jairus  raised,  14i 
Christ  and  Woman  touching  Hem  < 
his  Garment,  152 ;  Christ  healing  Tw 
Blind  Men,  152 ;  Christ  walking  c 
Water,  155 ;  Christ  feeding  the  Fi^ 
Thousand,  160 ;  Christ  and  the  C 
naanite  Woman,  163;  Healing  < 
Demoniac  Child,  170;  Ten  Lepei 
Cleansed,  173 ;  Christ  and  the  Adi 
teress,  177  ;  Restoration  of  Man  boi 
blind,  184 ;  Christ  and  the  Rich  Your 
Man,  213  ;  Christ  healing  Blind  Me 
of  Jericho,  218;  Entry  into  Jerusalei 
230 ;  Christ  and  the  Tribute  Mone 
234 ;  Parable  of  Virgins,  238 ;  Agoi 
in  Garden,  257 ;  Christ  appearing  1 
Holy  Women,  329. 

Biliverti,  Christ  and  the  Woman  < 
Samaria,  106. 

Bissolo,  Baptism,  84. 

Blake,  William,  influence  on  contei 
poraries,  106. 

Bles.  Henri  de,  Preaching  of  St.  Jol 
the  Baptist,  81;  Walk  to  Emmau 
332. 


oci'McIo,  ('irciimcisinn, 
juoiiK  the  Doctfirs,  13, 

of,  Aniiitnciatioii,  *J4. 
itfon  of  the  Khigtt.  K). 
oration    of    Mafci,   65; 
tlie  Temple,  ioo. 
Kalsliig  of  I AzariiH.  two 
M) ;  C^liacolo,  244 ;  CliriHt 
R2. 
.,  Adoration  of   Shep- 

Y>nese),  Feast  of  Dives, 
of  the  Mother  of  James 

rcsentation,  68,  50 ;  Fla- 

• 

iptation,  12;  bas-relief, 
fttion  attributed  to,  2G, 
tivitv,  47,  (Mi ;  Adoration 
ir  pictures  of,  <i5;  Kn- 
lonna,  xi ;  Tem])t2ition. 
tion,  .'UO. 

^anni  n,  (lirist  and  the 
■^niariiv,  lOG;  Christ  at 

W.  A.,  Adoration  of 
;  An^el  api)earing  to 
:)mb,  325. 

stien,  Christ  blessing 
m,  210. 

lelchior.  Presentation, 
ro  Egypt,  08. 
fadox,  Transflpniration, 
h'ssing  Little  Children, 
vasliin^  the  Disciples' 
;  Entonilmiont,  3l.'{,."n4 ; 
nnjuis,  li'jr). 

(1.  a.,  Preaching  of  St. 
itist,  HI ;  Christ  preach- 
),  112. 

r,  (1.  j.,  Preaching  of  St. 
tptist,  81;   Sermon  on 

1  Garden,  258. 
ir  J:d\vard,  Annnncia- 
munciation,  27,  28:  An- 
i  Shepherd  and  a  King, 
ativity,  three  pictures 
)ration  of  the  Magi,  66 ; 
Cana,  98;  Christ  and 
)f  Samaria,  106 ;  Christ 
3m  Ship,  113;  Miracu- 
;  of  P'ishes,  113 ;  Christ 
le  Children,  212;  Kes- 
);  Christ  appearing  to 
25-327. 

1   appearing  to  Shep- 

letto,  Christ  before  Pi- 

3,  Marriage   at   Cana, 

Christ  and  the  Adul- 

>. 

ino,  Raising  Widow's 

132. 

lie,  Adoration  of  Shep- 


lienls.  60 ;  Preaching  of  8t  .Tolm  the 
Baptist,  82 ;  Christ  and  tlie  Woman 
of  Hamaria,  106;  Christ  and  the 
Canaaiiite  Woman,  163;  Piettl,3l0; 
Resurrection.  320 ;  Holy  Women  at 
Tomb,  324 ;  Christ  appearing  to  Holy 
Women,  329. 

Caracci,  L,  Call  of  Matthew,  121 ;  Mir. 
acle  at  Bethesda,  125 ;  Christ  feeding 
the  Five  Thousand,  169;  Christ  and 
the  C^naanite  Woman,  162. 

Caravaggio,  Call  of  Matthew,  121. 

Cariani,  Christ  bearing  the  Cross,  291. 

Carimccio,  Presentation,  14,  58;  Sup^ 
])er  at  Emmaus,  333. 

Castiglione,  Benedetto,  Angel  appear- 
ing to  Shepherds,  two  pictures  of, 

40. 

Cavallini,  Passion  series  erroneously 
attributed  to,  221. 

Cederstroni,  Christ  preaching  from  the 
8hi|K  112. 

Cesi,  Call  of  James  and  John,  lio. 

Champaigne.  Philippe  de.  Feast  in 
house  of  Simon,  138. 

('himenti,  Jaoopo  (da  Empoll),  Call  of 
Matthew,  121. 

Cigoli,  Ecce  Homo,  286. 

Ciraa  (da  Conegliano),  Baptism,  84, 85, 
86;  Unbelief  of  Thomas,  two  pic- 
tures of,  338. 

Ciseri,  Ecce  Homo,' 285, 286. 

Cleef,  Hendrik  van.  Prodigal's  Riot- 
ous Living,  198. 

Cornicelius,  Temptation,  93. 

Correggio,  the  JiTofte,  14, 49 ;  Agony  in 
the  (iarden,  222,  257;  Ecce  Homo, 
222,  286 ;  Christ  appearing  to  Mary 
Magdalene,  326, 328 ;  Ascension,  :U2. 

Cosimo,  IMero  di,  background  of  Last 
Supper,  244. 

Crabeth,  Dirk,  Sermon  on  Mount,  128. 

Craeyer,  Gaspard  de.  Adoration  of 
Shepherds,  50 ;  Miraculous  Draught 
of  Fishes,  112 ;  Supper  at  Emmaus, 
334. 

Cranach,  Lucas,  Christ  and  Samaritan 
Woman,  105;  Feast  in  House  of 
Simon,  138;  Christ  and  the  Adul- 
teress, 177;  Christ  blessing  Little 
Children,  two  pictures  of,  209; 
Agony  in  Garden,  254. 

Cranach,  school  of,  Preaching  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  81 ;  Christ  and 
the  Adulteress,  177 ;  Christ  blessing 
Little  Children,  209. 

Cranach,  the  younger,  ('hrist  wash- 
ing the  Disciples'  Feet,  249,  250. 

Credi,  Lorenzo  di,  ideal  Nativity,  46 ; 
Adoration  of  Shepherds,  49;  Christ 
appearing  to  Magdalene,  two  pic- 
tures of,  329. 

Crespi,  Daniele,  Dream  of  Joseph,  67, 
69. 

Cristus,  Peter,  Nativity,  37. 

Croix,  de  la.  Deposition,  310. 

Dagnan-Bouveret,  Supper  at  Emmaus, 
335. 


>avid,  Gerard,  Marriage  at  Cana  at- 
tributed to,  97. 

Dietrich,  A.,  Christ  healing  the  Siclc, 
116, 117. 

Dietrich,  C.  W.  E.,  Angel  appearing  to 
Shepherds,  39;  Adoration  of  Shep- 
herds, 51 ;  Christ  healing  the  Sick, 
115. 

Dolci,  Carlo,  Agony  in  (iarden,  256. 

Donatello,  bas-relief,  17. 

Dor^,  Gustave,  Illustrated  Bible,  15; 
Christ  raising  Daughter  of  Jairus, 
147, 148 ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  ii30 ; 
Agony  in  Garden,  257. 

Drouais,  Christ  and  the  Canaanite 
Woman,  16:^. 

Dubufe,  E.,  Prodigal  Son,  199. 

Duccio,  Nativity,  37,  45 ;  Christ  found 
in  the  Temple,  75, 76, 78  ;  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes,  liO;  Passion 
Series,  220,  221 ;  Entry  into  Jerusa- 
salero,  228-230 ;  Last  Supper,  240 ; 
Christ  washing  Disciples'  Feet,  248 ; 
Christ's  Farewell  Discourse,  252; 
Agony  in  Garden,  264, 266 ;  Betrayal, 
260;  Christ  before  Annas,  262; 
Christ  before  Caiaphas,  265 ;  Denial 
of  Peter,  265 ;  Mocking,  266 ;  Christ's 
First  Appearance  before  Pilate,  268 ; 
Pilate  speaking  to  the  People,  269 ; 
Christ  before  Ilerod,  269,271 ;  Christ 
before  Pilate,  274;  Flagellation,  276 ; 
Christ  crowned  with  Thorns,  280; 
Christ  led  to  Calvary,  2H8 ;  Descent 
from  Cross,  305,  306;  Entombment, 
311;  Holy  Women  at  Tomb,  322, 
323 ;  Noli  me  Tangere,  326 ;  Walk  to 
Emmaus,  330,  331;  Unbelief  of 
Thomas,  336. 

I>U  Mond,  F.  v.,  Baptism,  87. 

Dupain,  E.,  The  Good  Samaritan,  180. 

Diirer,  Albert,  >fativity,  47;  Circum- 
cision, 52,  54;  Adoration  of  Magi, 
65 ;  Home  in  Egypt,  71 ;  Christ 
among  Doctors,  74  ;  Christ  found  in 
the  Temple,  78;  Prodigal's  Repent- 
ance, 197,  199,  200 ;  Green  Passion, 
224;  Greater  Passion,  226;  Little 
Passion,  225 ;  Entry  into  Jerusalem, 
230 ;  Christ  casting  Money  Changers 
from  Temple,  232, 23ii ;  Last  Supper. 
240,  246;  Christ  washing  Disciples' 
Feet,  248, 250,251;  Agony  in  Garden, 
256;  Kiss  of  Judas,  261;  Christ 
taken  Captive,  261;  Christ  l)efore 
Annas,  262 ;  Mocking,  267 ;  Christ's 
First  Api>earance  before  Pilate,  269 ; 
Christ  before  Herod,  270,  271; 
Christ  before  Pilate,  274 ;  Flagella-  i 
tion,  276;  Ecce  Homo,  283;  Nailing 
to  the  Cross,  292 ;  Crucifixion,  301, 
302 :  Descent  from  Cross,  304 ;  De- 

Sosition,  308 ;  Preparation  for 
iurial,  311;  Entombment,  two  pic- 
tures of,  313 ;  Resurrection,  two  pic- 
tures of,  319,  320;  Unbelief  of 
Thomas,  338  ;  Ascension,  340. 
Dyck,  Anthony  van,  Christ  and  Lame 
Man,  136,  126 ;  Christ  and  the  Trib- 


ute Money,  234;  Betrayal,  261 
Crucifixion,  302;  Pieta,  several  pic 
tures  of,  310;  Unbelief  of  Thomas 
339. 

Eastlake,  Sir  Charles,  The  Good  Sa 
maritan,  180;  Christ  blessing  Litth 
Children,  211 ;  Christ  weeping  ovei 
Jerusalem,  231. 

Eeckhout,  Gerbrand  van  den,  Presen 
tation,  60,  and  note;  Daughter  oj 
Jairus  raised,  148. 

Ender,  Axel,  Holy  Women  at  Tomb 
325. 

Eyck,  van,  Annunciation,  25. 

Fabriano,  Gentile  da,  Presentation 
57 ;  Adoration  of  Magi,  57,  63, 64. 

Fabritius,  Bernhard,  Birth  of  St.  Johr 
the  Baptist,  34. 

Farinato,  Presentation,  58. 

Ferrarese  School,  Last  Supper,  240 
244. 

Ferrari,  Gaudenzio,  frescoes  at  Va 
rallo,  13;  Flight  into  Egypt,  68 
Christ  among  the  Doctors,  78 ;  Last 
Supper,  240;  Christ  washing  Disci 
pies'  Feet,  249;  Agony  in  (Iarden 
256;  Ecce  Homo,  282;  Deposition 
308 ;  Descent  into  Limbus,  314 ;  Res 
urrection,  316. 

Feti,  Domenico,  Parable  of  Sower, 
140;  Parable  of  Good  Samaritan. 
178;  Parable  of  Lost  Sheep,  195; 
Parable  of  J^ost  Money,  two  pic 
tures  of,  195 ;  Prodigal's  Return,  200 ; 
Parable  of  Laborers  in  Vineyard, 
two  pictures  of,  215. 

Feuerstein,  Adoration  of  Shepherds, 
51. 

Finiguerra,  Tommaso,  silver  bas-re- 
lief, 18. 

Flinck,  Govert,  Angel  appearing  to 
Shepherds,  39, 40. 

Francesca,  Piero  della.  Baptism,  84 ; 
Entombment,  311,  Resurrection,  317, 
318. 

Francia,  Adoration  of  Magi,  66  ;  Baiv 
tism,  84, 86. 

Franciabigio,  Baptism,  19, 85. 

Francken  IL,  Franz,  Discourse  with 
Nicodemus,  102;  Christ  and  the 
Adulteress,  177  ;  Prodigal's  Depar- 
ture, 198;  Christ  washing  the  Disci- 
ples' P'eet,  2.')0 ;  Agony  in  Garden, 
256. 

Fronient,  triptych,  136, 139, 187, 193. 

Fuhrich,  Joseph,  Prodigal's  Depar- 
ture, 198. 

Gaddi,  Taddeo,  Annunciation  to  Shei>- 
herds,  38 ;  Star  appearing  to  Wise 
Men,  42 :  Nativity, 46 ;  series  of  pan- 
els attributed  to,  ll ;  Christ  found 
in  tlie  Temple,  76 ;  Transfiguration, 
167 ;  Raising  of  Lazarus,  187  n. ;  Ki\- 
tombment,  312 ;  Resurrection,  31(J. 

Galassi,  Galasso,  Passion  series,  222. 

Garofalo,  Raising  of  Lazarus,  190. 


-J.  IB*. 

Ualitlatnry  Unte,  11 :  In 

AonuDflkUtni.  -a:  <'>irlst 
I  (Im)  Temple,  TB;  KBptLsm. 
npMtloil,  M:  CleaaHliiB  of 
iple.  W:  Chrlit  walking  on 

inBi   TruuBEunitlon,   167; 
inwr.sMi  Betrayal, '.iCa.^MO; 
Bil  tn  ralVMy.  28»i  Beaur- 
slfi.  Sld.SUu. 
In,  Call  ot  Uie  Apostlu.  12. 

BesurrBotlon,  "    — '"  "" 


llrciinkfivl-. 
If  Uli-ii  M:li 


Ulliati 


it.  Jiihii 


o[.66i  PrwichinB o( ist. -lolKi 
tint,  Slj  B»i>tbiii,  tHi  Last 
two  pictures  of,  i*s,  'lit; 

Luca,  Dream  of  Joscpli.  6S ; 

ig  of  Ihe  Toninle,  loo. 

,  Christ  bearlKB  tlie  Croaa, 


lu  r»uua,u:  kvuLitiiij',  di, 
aeDtatloD,  til;  FllgUt  Into 
B,  70:  Christ  (onna  En  tUB 

7S;  Baptiam,  8S;  Marriage 
>,  9Si  XmnanguratioD,  IKT; 

of  Ijuarna.  ie,i ;  Entry  Into 
im,  22i ;  UtirlBt  uml  the 
!luinEera.  ill,  WJ:  I.iiKt  Sii))- 
i  Olirlst  wa-liinp;  liKdnJi-''- 
7,248:  Belmy:il,  ■.:ilii;  ciinit 
3alapliii^,'-'i!:i--!e-p-  M.>,>kiiij!, 


36;  frestuta  in  KaviiULia, 
attributed  to,  121 ;  Nnvl- 
n,  IH:  Ubriat  feedlDB  tbe 
lousand,  157,  iSe ;  Agony  In 

254. 

chool,  aerleH  of  pHnt^l^,  10; 

pilar.  244, 

MHtteo  dl,  Masaacre  □[  lu- 

da  Cremonn,  TmnHflgura- 


Ratslng  at  Lazarus,  IBO: 
I'u  Beturn.  several  iilcturee 
2(11 1   UQD«lie[  ol  Tliomas, 


i;ii. 

Keasellua,  Guslayus,  Laat  Siqiper. 
•as. 

Bobnann,  Professor  Helorlub,  C^Urltit 
iunomrUieltoator8,T1;  TemptnUon, 
92iCbristbeal1[]BtfieBli!k.llH;  liais- 
ing Widow's  Son  At  Kalii.  IH ;  Hals- 
ing  Daughter  ol  J&irua,  IW 1  Cbrint 
aadtheAdiiIteresa,iTT;  Clirlat  wlIli 
Martha  and  IiUrv,l»t:  Christ  bless- 
ing I'lttle  Olilldna,  Zlt ;  Christ  bihI 
the  KIcb  YounK  Man,  213 :  Agotiy  In 
d  n,  ^8  Gbri  t  Ukeu  &ptlve, 
ppe        EmtDUUB  33S. 

I      be     th  Fas    gu  se  li»  223 


be     Hans  Prod  ga     h 

K  eg   Fas       pa  tl  e 

»    Tirts 

Moc  iDg,  -ft 

r 

»«n 


<    rr!    Fro   gal    R 
da  na,  Pmdlga  "s  Hep     U  C  ,   90 

Jnuvenet,  Mirucuioiis  OrHnglit  nt 
Fl-ihes,  112 :  Christ  bealhig  Uib  Bick, 
115;  Feast  in  Uoiiae  nt  ^mon,  ISO) 
Clirist  wltb  Martba  and  Mary.  1S2 ; 
Kalqlng  of  t^zarua,  109. 

Jiiaues.  Christ  bearing  tbe  Cro«s,  291. 

Keller,   Alliert,  Daueliter  of  Jalrus 

rni^ed,  14S.  149. 
Knnlng,  Salomon,  Cull  of  Mntthew, 

121- 
Kilgelgen,   Gerhard   von.   Prodigal's 

Bepeutance,  leu. 

La  Parge,  John,  Approach  of  Wise 
Men  to  jerusaiem.is  ;  Adnratloii  ot 
Magi.  66;  Christ  and  Nleodemns, 
102  ;  Christ  and  the  Saniaritah  Wo- 
Holy  Women  at  Tomb, 


Lamb,  Mrs.  Ella  Condlt,  desien  tor 

Holy  Women  at  Tomb,  32*. 
Lanfranuo,  Cbrlst  and  Peter  on  Ws- 

Lanzanl,  Feast  lu  tbe  House  o[  Simon, 

Labrim,  Sermon  on  Mount.  130. 


Lepage,  Bastien,  Angel  appearing  to 
Shepherds,  40. 

Le  Kolle,  Arrival  of  Shepherds.  48. 

Leroy,  Paul,  Christ  with  Martha  and 
Mary,  184. 

Le  Sueur,  Christ  with  Martha  and 
Mary,  182;  Christ  at  Column,  278; 
Piet£l,  310. 

Leyden,  Lucas  van,  Adoration  of 
Magi,  65;  Baptism,  87;  Temptation. 
91;  Raising  of  Lazarus,  190;  Christ 
healing  Blind  Man  of  Jericho,  218; 
Round  Passion,  223, 224 ;  Passion  se- 
ries, 224;  Last  Supper,  245;  Agony 
in  Garden,  256 ;  Betrayal,  261 ;  Christ 
before  Annas,  262;  Christ  before 
Caiaphas,  263 ;  Mocking,  267 ;  Flagel- 
lation, 276;  Ecce  Homo,  283;  Clirist 
led  to  Calvary,  290 ;  Crucifixion,  300 ; 
Preparation  for  Burial,  311 ;  Resur- 
rection, 320. 

L'Hermitte,  Supper  at  Emmaus,  335. 

Liberale  da  Verona,  Temptation,  89; 
Sermon  on  Mount,  128;  Parable  of 
Sower,  140 ;  Christ  feeding  the  Four 
Thousand,  164 ;  Ten  Lepers  Cleansed, 
172;  Good  Samaritan,  178;  Parable 
of  Lost  Sheep,  196 ;  Parable  of  Un- 
just Steward,  203 ;  Parable  of  Phari- 
see and  Publican,  207, 208 ;  Parable 
of  Laborers  in  the  Vineyard,  215; 
Christ  and  the  Tribute  Money,  234. 

Liebermann,  Christ  among  the  Doc- 
tors, 75. 

Lint,  Peter  van.  Miracle  at  Bethesda, 
126. 

Lippi,  Filippo,  frescoes  illustrating 
the  Life  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  19 ; 
the  Annunciation,  24;  birth  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  31,  32;  ideal  Na- 
tivity, 47 ;  Preaching  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist  81. 

Lippi,  Filippino,  Adoration  of  Magi, 
65;  Christ  and  tlie  Samaritan  Wo- 
man, 104,  105;  Christ  appearing  to 
Magdalene,  323. 

Liska,  E.  S.,  Agony  in  Garden,  258. 

Long,  Edwin,  Parable  of  Sower,  142. 

Lorenzetti,  Pietro,  Passion  series,  221 ; 
Last  Supper,  244. 

Lorraine,  Claude,  Sermon  on  Mount, 
130. 

Lotto,  Lorenzo,  Annunciation,  26,  27 ; 
Presentation,  58 ;  Transfiguration, 
167 ;  Christ  and  the  Adulteress,  two 
pictures  of.  176 ;  Ascension,  340. 

Luini,  Nativity,  37 ;  Presentation,  57 ; 
Christ  among  the  Doctors,  74; 
Christ  found  in  the  Temple,  78; 
Crucifixion,  222, 298,  311 ;  Christ  un- 
bound from  Column,  278. 

Mabuse,  Circumcision,  54 ;  Call  of  Mat- 
thew, 121 ;  triptych,  136, 137, 138, 187, 
190. 

Mantegna,  Andrea,  Circumcision,  52, 
53 ;  Presentation,  58 ;  Call  of  James 
and  John,  108;  Transfiguration  in- 
correctly attributed  to,  167  ;  Agony 


in  Garden,  254,  256;  Flagellation, 
276;  Crucifixion,  299,  318;  Descent 
from  Cross,  307 ;  Entombment,  312, 
313;  Resurrection,  318;  Ascension, 
342. 

Mantegna,  Francesco,  Resurrection, 
318 ;  Christ  appearing  to  Magdalene, 
326,  329. 

Maratta,  Carlo,  Adoration  of  Shep- 
herds, 50 ;  Baptism,  84. 

Marconi,  Rocco,  Christ  and  the  Adul- 
teress, two  pictures  of,  170 ;  Deposi- 
tion, 309,  310. 

Marziale,  Marco,  Supper  at  Emmaus, 
333. 

Masaccio,  Healing  of  Demoniac,  113 ; 
Miracle  of  Tribute  Money,  172. 

Masolino,  series  of  frescoes  illustrat- 
ing life  of  St.  John  Baptist,  18 ;  Bap- 
tism, 84,  85. 

Mazzolino,  Massacre^of  Innocents,  72 ; 
Christ  among  the  Doctors,  78 ;  Christ 
preaching  from  Ship,  112;  Ecce 
Homo,  283. 

Meldola,  Andrea  (or  Schiavone),  Para- 
ble of  Unjust  Steward,  203 ;  Parable 
of  Laborers  in  the  Vineyard,  216; 
Christ  before  Pilate,  275. 

Melloni,  Altobello  de'.  Flight  into 
Egypt,  13;  Massacre  of  Innocents, 
13 ;  Last  Supper,  13 ;  Christ  washing 
Disciples'  Feet,  13;  Agony  in  the 
Garden,  13;  Arrest  of  Jesus,  13; 
Christ  before  Herod,  13 ;  Walk  to 
Emmaus,  331, 332. 

Memling,  Annunciation,  24 ;  Nativity, 
47;  Presentation,  59;  Adoration  of 
Magi,  65  ;  Marriage  at  Cana  at- 
tributed to,  97 ;  Passion,  223 ;  Resur- 
rection, 316,  317. 

Mengelburg,  Holy  Family  on  Way  to 
Jerusalem,  74. 

Mengs,  Raphael,  Dream  of  Joseph,  29, 
30 ;  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  50. 

Menzel,  Christ  among  the  Doctors,  75. 

Millais,  Sir  John  E.,  Enemy  Sowing 
Tares,  142 ;  Parable  of  Lost  Piece  of 
Money,  196. 

Millet,  the  Sower,  141, 142. 

Miranda,  Carreno  de,  Baptism,  85. 

Mocetto,  Massacre  of  Innocents,  72. 

Monaco,  Lorenzo,  Annunciation,  24; 
Adoration  of  Kings,  64. 

Morales,  Ecce  Homo,  286 ;  Christ  bear- 
ing  the  Cross,  291. 

Morando,  Paolo  (or  Cavazzola),  Pas- 
sion series,  222 ;  Christ  washing  the 
Disciples'  Feet,  249 ;  Christ  bearhig 
the  Cross,  289,  290;  Deposition,  308, 
310 ;  Unbelief  of  Thomas,  337, 338. 

Morelli,  Domenico,  Temptation,  92 ; 
Demoniacs  of  Gadara  healed,  146; 
Christ  raising  Daughter  of  Jairus, 
149 ;  Christ  walking  on  Water,  155 ; 
Christ  and  the  Adulteress,  177; 
Mocking,  267. 

Moretti,  Cristoforo,  Christ  before 
Caiaphas,  13 ;  Christ  at  Column,  1."^. 

Moretto,  Marriage  at  Cana,  96 ;  Christ 


he  SsRULrltsn  Wuninii,  IM  ; 
iiiliuuH'Drmmnii.iaT. 

Christ  wHiliIiiK  Uw  UiKi  pies' 
rroiK-uiulyAlIrlliulei]  tu,-.MP, 
.,  Kky>lu,  OlII  uI  MatlUew, 

3»rl,  Arrlvsl  ot  Sliei.hpf.1s.<fi; 
rut  KRunnii3,:uA, 


Six,  31'Ji  Aaceusk 

I'enithno,  rcIiooI  dI,  Bapti: 
riHiiDsolkmlUt.  C,  G..  Cbrl 

Llltte  ailUtlVII,  311;  Al 

Inu  tu  WoniPD  at  Tomb, 

Plln?)-,  Piirablr..  of  Tph  Virgins 


lilt  bteWBlf  -^ 
3211. 

•    AHtimtlnn  I 


iO.il.  ImiHiteiit  .M 1.1  'I 

thcxdo.  l^i  Ulruelt  ui  ki.i 
Ire  Tboussnil,  IbV;  I'rDaiuiil 
I  series  ot  |><etureB,  ise :  I'rodl- 
ttetum,  varioin  pictures,  2ui; 
I  111  Gardeu,  KM  j  Koue  Homo, 

I.    a.,   UaugLIer    ol    Jolriis 


if  at.  Jolmtlicllap- 
n,  Clirirtt  blexHliig 


Pedro,  riirlHi  lee 

'llOIlRKIld,  lOB. 

'.  Albert,  Halalng  of 

ii,  Johanii  Frieiiri 
igeu  »us  ^'U  Evane 
ig  or  BL  John  tlie  B 
;  Jnmes  and  John,  I 
g  Ihe  alofe,  US,  11 
[   Daugliter  ot  Ja 


leClill  r 


and  the  Adutteresa, 
Veechto,  Adoration 
3T  i  Christ  tind  the  (.  i 


It  And  tllB  Adul- 


tbe  younger,  Parable  o. 

aA  liaznriiH,  UK. 

ano,  Cbrist  tieariiig  the 


1,  Nativity,  12;  CliarRB  to 
12;  Adoration  ot  Ka^,  ST. 
stivlty,  4n  i  altar-pieces,  46  ; 
m.  SI,  SB,  87 1  Toniptatloii,  gi ; 
Iciiratlnn,  twn  platin'es  of,  16H. 

11,300;  llepoBltlaQ,blfl:'Bes- 


■fii,  llaptlston;  g 
on  tu  Steebailas 


u,  M.'dS. 

iiitij,  Adoration  uf  Mail, 

iiitlHH,  4e,   1A; 
tiUesceutlrom 

CliTlst  blessing  Little 
Aupel  appearlns  to 


1        dulsi 
^<ti 


Josepli.  (17, 
Querela,  Glaco 

Rapbael,  TrausflEnratluo.  H,  Ids,  li 


Life  of  aiflst,'u ;  M&>^ 
sacre  ol  I  unacents,  72 ;  Poltgiill  Utt- 

ilonna.fil:  Handam, ss ;  UltaeulMu 
in'Hught  of  Fialies,  iioi  HeaUug  ot 
IJemonliuiCliilii,  iTOi  CliHst  bearing 
the  Cross,  ■-■! .  L.n^t  Sii|iprr  (nt  Log- 
giel^Mti:  l..>MM-itLHilr.ii).'idiiilMi(eil 

iierila,  3!i',  "411"  A'i'i.>ijdi,iii"i,r  Mii'i^ 
lierds,  ffl;  Clrcumelnion,  na,  M;  Fre- 
Hentatloii,  several  pictures  ol,  IW; 
Dreum  of  Joseph,  cn  :  Clirlat  lunang 
tbe  Ueetors.  Tl ;  fieturatoNaxaieUi, 


79 ;  Preaching  of  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist, 81;  Cleansing  of  the  Temple, 
100 ;  Discourse  with  Nicodemus,  102 ; 
Christ  and  the  Samaritan  Woman, 
106 ; "  Hundred  Guilders  Plate,"  115 ; 
Christ  in  Tempest,  145;  Christ  and 
the  Adulteress,  177 ;  The  Good  Sa- 
maritan, 179,  180 ;  Raising  of  Laza- 
rus, two  pictures  of,  191, 192 :  Prodi- 
gal's Keturn,  two  pictures  of,  201 ; 
Parable  of  Laborers  in  Vineyard, 
216  ;  Christ  and  the  Tribute  Money, 
234 ;  Ecce  Homo,  284 ;  Descent  from 
Cross,  two  pictures  of,  307 ;  Supper 
at  Emmaus,  several  pictures  of,  334. 

Kerabrandt  school,  Christ  blessing  Lit- 
tle Children,  210. 

lleni,  Guido,  Christ  and  the  Samaritan 
Woman,  105;  predilection  for  sub- 
ject of  Ecce  Homo,  286 ;  Crucifixion, 
302;  Pieta,310. 

Ribera,  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  50 ; 
Christ  among  tlie  Doctors,  78 ;  Mira- 
cle of  Tribute  Money,  171, 172. 

Kiciiniond,  George,  ('hrist  and  tlie  Sa- 
maritan Woman,  106. 

Richter,  Daughter  of  Jairus  raised, 
148. 

Kobbia,  Andrea  del  la,  ideal  Nativity, 
47 ;  Baptism,  84, 85 ;  Ascension,  341. 

Kobbia,  Giovanni  della,  bas-relief,  49 ; 
Unbelief  of  Thomas,  337 ;  workshop 
of,  bas-reliefs,  17;  Annunciation  to 
Zacharias,  22. 

Robbia,  Luca  della.  Resurrection,  318, 
341 ;  Ascension,  318, 341. 

Robert,  Parable  of  the  Sower,  142. 

Roche,  de  la.  Deposition,  310. 

Romano,  (iiulio.  Circumcision,  52,  53, 
54 ;  Lo  Spasimo,  290. 

Romanino,  Christ  crowned  with 
Thorns,  13 ;  Christ  presented  to  the 
People,  13. 

Rosa,  Salvator,  Prodigal's  Repent- 
ance, 199. 

Roselli,  Cosimo,  Sermon  on  Mount,  12, 
118,  129,  130;  Leper  Cleansed,  118, 
130;  Last  Supper,  12,  240,  244. 

Rossellino,  Antonio,  ideal  Nativity,  47. 

Rossetti,  Ecce  Ancilla  Domini,  25, 27, 
28 ;  memorial  window  to,  165. 

Rubens,  Aimunciation,  23 :  Adoration 
of  Magi,  fifteen  pictures  of,  66 ;  Re- 
turn to  Nazareth,  79;  Discourse 
with  Nicodemus,  102 ;  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes,  112;  Call  of 
Matthew,  122;  Feast  in  House  of 
Simon,  138;  Christ  walking  on  Wa- 
ter, 155 ;  Christ  and  the  Adulteress, 
177 ;  Raising  of  Lazarus,  192 ;  Prodi- 
gal's Repentance,  199 ;  (Mirist  and 
the  Tribute  Money,  234 ;  Christ  bear- 
ing the  Cross,  291 ;  Elevation  of 
Cross,  292 ;  Descent  from  Cross,  .304, 
307 ;  Supper  at  Emmaus,  334 ;  Unbe- 
lief of  Thomas,  3.39. 

Rubens,  imitator  of,  Christ  asleep  in 
Tempest,  144;  Christ  with  Martha 
and  Mary,  182. 


Sabi,  Antonio,  silver  bas-relief,  18. 

Sacchi,  Andrea,  series  of  pictures  il- 
lustrating the  life  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist,  19. 

Salviati,  Cecchino  del,  Unbelief  of 
Thomas,  338. 

Sano,  Turino  dl,  bas-relief,  17. 

San  Severino,  Lorenzo  and  Giaco- 
mo  da,  frescoes  at  Urbino,  18 ;  Birth 
of  St  John  the  Baptist,  32 ;  Circum- 
cision  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  34, 
35 ;  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist, 

81. 

Sarto,  Andrea  del,  series  of  frescoes 
illustrating  the  life  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist,  19 ;  Annunciation  to  Zacha- 
rias, 21 ;  Annunciation,  26 ;  Birth  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  32 ;  Preaching 
of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  80,  81 ;  Bap- 
tism, 85 ;  Parable  of  Laborers  in 
the  Vineyard,  215, 216 ;  Last  Supper, 
242. 

Savoido,  Transfiguration,  two  pictures 

of,  168. 

Schadow,  Parable  of  Ten  Virgins,  238. 

Scliaeufelein,  Hans,  Rescue  of  Peter, 
two  pictures  of,  155 ;  Parable  of  Rich 
Man  and  Lazarus,  206 ;  Last  Supper, 
245 ;  Agony  in  Garden,  254. 

Schaffner,  Martin,  Presentation,  58. 

Scheifer,  Ary,  Temj)tation,  91 ;  Cristus 
Consolator,  117;  Christ  Weeping 
over  Jerusalem,  231 ;  Agony  in  Gar- 
den, 256 ;  Clnist  and  Judas,  261 ; 
Christ  and  John,  261;  Ecce  Homo, 
286. 

Schonherr,  Christ  with  Martha  and 
Mary,  184. 

Schongauer  (or  Schbn)  Martin,  Ada 
ration  of  Magi,  65;  Descent  from 
Cross,  223 ;  Entombment,  223 ;  Pas 
sion  series,  224;  Wise  and  Foolisli 
Virgins,  236,  237  ;  Christ  led  away 
Captive,  261 ;  Christ  before  Caiaphas 
264 ;  Christ  before  Pilate,  274 ;  Ecce 
Homo,  283;  Christ  led  to  Calvary, 
290;  predilection  for  ideal  Crucifix 
ion,  302 ;  Entombment,  313 ;  Resur 
rection,  317,  320;  Christ  appearinti 
to  Magdalene,  326. 

Shields,  design  of  Rossetti  memorial 
window,  165. 

Siemeroth,  Good  Samaritan,  180. 

Siemiradzki,  Christ  and  the  Adulter 
ess,  177;  Christ  with  Martha  and 
Mary,  183, 184. 

Signorelli,  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  37 
49;  Circumcision,  54;  Flagellation, 
277,  278. 

Sillaer,  Vincenz,  Christ  blessing  Little 
Children,  210. 

Sinkel,  Adoration  of  Shepherds,  51. 

Sodoma.    See  Bazzi. 

Spada,  Prodigal's  Return,  200. 

Spagna,  I^o,  Adoration  of  Shepherds 
49 ;  Agony  in  (rarden,  256. 

Sperry,  E.  P.,  design  for  Supi>er  at 
Emmaus,  :{35. 

Sprauglier,  Bartel,  Circumcision,  52. 


farriageat  Caiia,98;  Fro- 

tOUfl  LlvliiK,  198. 

;iiri8t  with   Martba  and 

S.,   Daughter  of  Jafrus 

sast  fu  the  House  of  Si- 


ry  Oe,  Kalslug  of  Lazarus, 

igars  Klotous  Living,  two 
1U8,  IW;  Parable  of  KIch 
azaruN,  \»ni. 
rist  blessiug  Little  ChiU 

rescoes  In  S.  Kocco,  14, 
icisiou,  52,  54 ;  Adoratlou 
S;  Flight  into  Egypt,  68; 
84,  8U;  Temptation,  Ul; 
it  Cana,  97;  Miracle  at 
125;  Miracle  of  Feeding 
sand,  158;  Transflgura- 
iriHt  and  Adulteress,  1T« ; 
1  Martha  and  Mary,  181 
K  of  J^izaruH,  two  pic- 
HO;  Crucilixion,  222,  209; 
;r,  24<),  241 ;  I.A8t  Sup))er, 
s  of,  244, 245 ;  ( -hrlst  wash- 
ciples'  Feet,  249;  Agony 
267 ;  Christ  before  l*ilate, 
'iiciflxion,  three  pictures 
;  Kesurrectiou,  31G,  320 ; 
:t42. 

es,  illustratt'd  Life  of 
Anniuiciution  to  Zacha- 
.iniunciation,  2«;  Dream 
.'M);  Magi  en  Koiite,  4;{; 
KKyi>t,  71 ;  Mary  looking 
4 ;  Christ  led  from  Tem- 
mptation,  1)2;  Disecmrse 
emus,  102 ;  Call  of  Apos- 
lirist  i)rea(^hing  from  the 
'Ilirist  healing  the  Demo- 
ictures,  114;  Christ  heal- 
ck,  several  i)ietures  of, 
/tic  Healed,  120;  Call  of 
.22;  Miracle  at  Bethes- 
m  with  Withered  Hand 
;  Healing  of  Centurion's 
'2;  liaising  Widow's  Son 
:i,  134;  Feast  in  House 
J9 ;  Parable  of  the  Sower, 
y  sowing  Tares,  142; 
ling  the  Tempest,  145; 
of  fladara  Healed,  14(); 
Ing  Daughter  of  Jairus, 
:  and  Woman  touching 
s  (larment,  IW  ;  Clirist 
o  Blind  Men,  152 ;  Clirist 
Water,  155;  Christ  and 
kVoman,  1(53;  Ten  Lepers 
173;  Christ  with  Adul- 
177 ;  llestoration  of  Man 
,  184;  Prodigal  Son,  in 
ictures,  11)8;  Paral)le  of 
,nd  Lazarus,  2(h»  :  Parable 
and  Publican,  207 ;  Clu'ist 
h  Young  Man,  214 ;  Christ 


healing  Blind  Han  of  Jericho,  218; 
Parable  of  Virgins,  238;  Agony  hi 
Garden,  257. 

Tithin,  Tribute  Money,  14,  234;  Bap- 
tism, 86;  Transflgumtion,  167;  pic- 
tures of  Christ  and  the  Adulteress 
incorrectly  attributed  to,  176 ;  Christ 
crowned  with  Thorns,  two  pictures 
of,  222, 279, 280, 281 ;  Ecce  Homo,  two 
pictures  of,  222,283;  Christ  bearing 
the  Cross,  two  pictures  of,  222 ;  En- 
tombment, 222,  312;  Last  Supiier, 
245 ;  Kcce  Homo,  286 :  Christ  bearing 
the  CYoss,  290;  CIu*i8t  bearing  tlie 
Cross,  two  pictures  of,  291 ;  Kesur- 
rection,  316,  320;  Noll  me  Tangere, 
326 ;  Supper  at  Kmmaus,  333. 

Tura,  Cosimo,  Circumcision,  64. 

Turchl,  Presentatiou,  68. 

Uhde,  Fritz  von.  Angel  appearing  to 
Shepherds,  40;  Holy  Night,  48;  Ser- 
mon on  Mount,  130;  Christ  blessing 
Little  Children,  212;  Last  Supper, 
245, 246 ;  Supper  at  Emmaus,  335. 

Yecelli,  Francesco,  Transfiguration, 
167. 

Vedder,  Elihu,  Enemy  sowing  Tares, 
142;  Lazarus,  193. 

Velasquez,  Adoration  of  Shepherds, 
60 ;  Christ  witli  Martha  ana  Mary, 
182 ;  Christ  at  Cohunn,  278. 

Velde,  Adrian  van  der,  Good  Samari- 
tan, 171). 

Veneziano,  Antonio,  Navicella  attri- 
buted to,  153. 154 ;  Christ  led  to  Cal- 
vary, 281);  Women  at  Tomb,  323, 
324. 

Verestchagin,  Crucifixion,  302. 

Verocchio,  Baptism,  84,  85,  8G ;  Unbe- 
lief of  Thomas,  337, 338. 

Veronese,  Sup])er  at  Emmaus,  14 ; 
Adoration  of  Magi,  65 ;  Baptism,  84, 
8(5 ;  Marriage  at  Cana,  90 ;  Marriage 
at  Cana,  97 ;  Feast  of  Matthew,  122 ; 
Healing  of  Centurion's  Servant,  131 ; 
three  pictures  of  Feast  in  House  of 
Simon,  137,  138;  (nirist  before  the 
House  of  Jairus,  152 ;  Good  Samari- 
tan, 171);  Last  Supper,  245;  (Uirist 
bearing  the  Cross,  21)1;  Sui)per  at 
Emmaus,  two  pictures  of,  333,  xa. 

Vinci,  Leonardo  da.  Last  Supper,  14, 
222,  240,  241,  242,  245 ;  Christ  among 
Doctors  incorrectly  attributed  to, 
74;  Angels,  8G;  Kesurrection  attri- 
buted to,  31G. 

Vivarini,  Alvise,  Resurrection,  318. 

Voenius,  Otto,  (?all  of  Matthew,  122, 
123 ;  Raising  of  Lazarus,  192. 

A'^olterra,  Daniele  da.  Descent  from 
Cross,  304,  305,  306,  .307. 

Vriendt,  .1.  de,  Christ  raising  Daugh- 
ter of  Jairus,  149. 

WerfT.  Adrian  van  der.  Angel  a])pear- 
ing  to  Sbei)lierds,  39 ;  Ecce  Homo, 
284. 


INDEX   OF  ARTISTS 


3i 


West,  Benjamin,  Christ  healing  the 
Sick,  116;  Kaising  of  I^zarus,  193; 
Christ  blessing  Little  Children,  211, 
212 ;  Christ  Rejected,  284. 

Weyden,  Roger  van  der.  Annuncia- 
tion, 25 ;  Birth  of  St.  John  tlie  Bap- 
tist, 32,  33;  Star  appearing  to  the 
Kings,  41, 42 :  Presentation,  59 ;  Ado- 
ration of  Magi,  65 ;  Marriage  at  Cana 
attributed  to,  97. 

Wilson,  Frederick,  design  for  Christ 


appearing  to  Magdalene,  329; 

sign  for  Supper  at  Emmaus,  3:35. 
Wolf,  Otto,  Christ  and  the  Adultere 

177. 
Wouvernian,  Philip,  Angel  appear! 

to  Shepherds,  39,  40 ;  Preaching 

St  John  the  Baptist,  81. 

Zimmerman,  Clirist  among  the  !)< 
tors,  75 ;  Christ  healing  the  Sick,  l 

Zuccaro,    Raising    Widow's    Son 
Nain,  132. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES 


iiArRLLK :     Evangelarlum, 

'Cathnlml:  has-relief    on 

yr9\\y  IH;  HculDturml  facade, 

irable  of  Ton  Virgins,  236^ 

•AM—  Ryktt  Museum :  Dutch 

62 ;  Clirfst  with  Martha  and 

by  V.  M.  L.,  182. 

• —  Church  qf  St.  Andrew: 

1  wood  pulpit  108. 

al:  Van  I )ycK^  Crucifixion, 

{ul)ens*s  Klevation  of  the 

202;  Kubeus's  Descent  from 

OSS,  307 ;  O.  Voenius's  Kais- 

I^azarus,  102. 

.-  Voeuius*s(^IIof  Matthew, 

Libens*s  Unbelief  of  Thomas, 

Barna's  frescoes,  10. 

'IN v.v m i  —  IJhrari/ :   Evan- 

nn,  12S. 

>'.  Franrr.'H'o :  (iiotto's  fi'CS- 

,  1(>,  4(>,  71) ;  Loronzctti's  fros- 

21,  L'44. 

(J—  (ifiNtry:  Tintoretto's 
with  Miirtlia  and  Mary, 
Passion   series,   by  elder 

n,  22:j. 

fusrum :  Passion  painting 

ns  Holbein,  '2'^);  Holbein's 

iippcT,  245;  Holbein's  draw- 

W,  2»5r.,  2«7,  274,  291,  21)2. 

('(ffhrtfral:  Parable  of  Vir- 

«>. 

ro—  ( 'dth fflral :    Door,    5, 

•,  2HS. 

ini.  Adoration  of  Shephenls, 

^ano,  (lood  Samaritan,  17S. 
Hi.  Kntbroned  Madonna,  si. 
e  school  panels,  lo,  w,  lti7, 

,  2.'>H,  270,  MH. 

.eyer,  Supper  at  Emmaus, 

h,  Christ  and  the  Saniari- 
V'oman,  lO.") ;  Feast  in  House 
non,  l.is ;  Agony  in  (iarden. 


,»r  Cranaeii,  Christ  washing 
)iscii)Ies'  Feet,  240. 
,  Nativity,  37. 


Duccio,  Nativity,  4K. 

Eeckhout,  Presentation,  60  n.{ 
Daughter  of  Jairus  raised,  148. 

Farinato,  Presentation,  58, 

Franz  Francken  II.,  Christ  wash- 
ing Disciples*  Feet,  250 ;  Agony 
in  Garden,  266. 

Gaddi,  Nativity,  46. 

Ghirlaudajo,  Resurrection,  31&. 

Giotto's  school,  nanel,  11. 

Konlng,  Call  of  Matthew,  121. 

Legend  of  8t  Lucy,  296. 

Mantegna,  Freseotation,  68. 

Marconi,  Christ  and  the  Adulter- 
ess, 176. 

MazzoUno,  Christ  among  Doctors, 
78. 

Meldola,  Unjust  Steward,  203 ;  La- 
borers in  Vineyard,  216. 

Ouwater,  liaising  of  l^zarus,  lOO. 

Palmezzjino,  Christ  bearing  Cross, 
291. 

Proeaccini,  Dream  of  Joseph,  67. 

Kembrandt,  Dream  of  Joseph,  (W; 
Preaching  of  St  John  Bai)tist, 
81,  S2. 

Kubens,  Raising  of  Lazarus,  102. 

Scliaeufelein,  I^st  Supper,  245; 
Agony  in  (iarden,  2rA. 

Venetian,  Christ  and  Peter  on 
Water,  155. 

Attributed  to  da  Vinci,  Resurrec- 
tion. 316. 

Van  der  Weyden,  triptych,  32, 33 ; 
Star  api>earing  to  Kings,  42. 
BiAKKiTz:  window,  by  Burue-.Jones, 

9S. 

Biii<'Hix<iToN'  —  Cfiurch:     Rossetii 

memorial  window,  16.5. 
BmMiN-<;nAM— .4/Y     (iof/rnj:    Hol- 

miin  Hunts  Finding  of  the  Saviour 

in  the  Temi>le.  7S. 
Boi.oc.yA  —  finffert/:     L.     Caracci's 

(^all  of  Matthew,  121 :  Guido  Re- 

ni's  Pieta,  310. 
Churrh   of  S.  (iiovftnni  in  Montr: 

Cesis  Call  of  James  and  John, 

110. 
BoRco  Sax  Sepolcro:  Francesea's 

Entombment,    311;     Francesea's 

Resurrection,  317. 
Boston—  Central      Confjregntional 

Church :  Stained  window,  324. 


Museum  of  Fine  Arts :  De  la  Croix's 
Pieta,  310 ;  L'Hermitte's  Supper  at 
Emmaus,  335 ;  W.  M.  Hunt's  Prod- 
igal Sod,  201 ;  Perkins  Ollectiou 
of  Miniatures,  340;  Richardson 
Collection  of  Miniatures,  38, 340. 
Trinity  Church :  La  Farge's  Christ 
and  Nicodemus,  102;  La  Farge's 
Christ  and  the  Samaritan  Woman, 
106. 
Boulogne— Library;   Great  Latin 

Psalter,  37. 
BovnGKS—  Cathedral :  Stained  win- 
dow, 197,  206. 
Brampton:   Burne-Jones's  window, 

212. 
BRE8CIA  —  S.     Afra :      Tintoretto's 
Transfiguration,  167 ;  Giulio  Cam- 
pi's  Christ   and  the  Adulteress, 
176. 
SS.  Nazaro  e  Celsi :  Titian's  Resur- 
rection, 320. 
BnVQJ!^8  —  Hospital    of   St.    Johns: 
Memling's  Nativity,  47 ;  Memling's 
Presentation,  59 ;  Memling's  Ado- 
ration of  Magi,  65. 
Br  uns  wic  k  —  Cathedral :     Roman- 
esque frescoes,  4, 236. 
Gallery ;  Poussiu's  Annunciation  to 
Shepherds,  40 ;  Nicolas  Moyaert's 
Call  of  Matthew,  121. 
Brussels  —  Museum  : 

F.  Barocci,  Call  of  Peter  and  An- 
drew, 108. 
De  Craeyer,  Adoration,  of  Shep- 
herds, 50;  Miraculous  Draught, 
112. 
Van  Hemessen,  Prodigal  Son,  198. 
Mabuse,  Feast  in  House  of  Simon, 

138 ;  Raising  of  Lazarus,  190. 
Van  Noort,  Cnrist  blessing  Little 

Children,  210. 
Rubens,  Christ  bearing  the  Cross, 
291. 

Carlsruhe  —  Libranj :  Evangela- 
rium,  239. 

CassFjJj— Gallery :  Bassano's  Christ 
with  Martha  and  Mary,  181. 

Castiglione  d^OijO^ x~Bax>ti8tery : 
Masolino's  frescoes,  18, 84. 

Castle  Howard:  O.  Bellini's  Cir- 
cumcision, 62 ;  A.  Caracci's  Resur- 
rection, 324. 

Cerreto  Gvini  —  Church  of  San 
Leonardo :  Terra-cotta  panels,  17, 
22. 

Chartres  —  Cathedral :  Twelftli 
century  window,  6,  61,  91,  330; 
Thirteenth  century  window,  95 ; 
Prodigal  Son,  197, 198 ;  Parable  of 
Ten  Virgins,  236. 

Chatsworth  :  Giulio  Romano's 
drawing.  53  n. 

Cheshire  (England)  —  Xeiv  Ferry 
Church :  Burne-Jones's  window, 
113. 

Chicago  — -Wr.  M.  E.  Stances  Collec- 
tion :  Vedder*9  Lazarus,  193, 


Yerkes     Collection  :    Rembrandt's 

Raising  of  Lazarus,  192. 
CittA  di  Castello  :  Giovanni  della 

Robbia's  bas-relief,  49. 
CittA    della    Pieve:    Perugino's 

Adoration  of  the  Magi,  37, 64. 
CoL-JAAR  — Museum:  Passion  series, 

223. 
CohOGH^—  Cathedral :  Dombild,  23, 

25,  66. 
CoRTONA  —  Church  of  Gesu:  Fra  An- 

gelico's  Annunciation,  26. 
Cremona  —  Cathedral :  Frescoes  by 

Romanino  and  pupils,  12,  13,  78, 

292, 316. 

Darmstadt  —  Museum  :  Hofmann's 

Christ  taken  Captive,  261. 
Detroit— 5^  John^s :  Mosaic  reredos, 

324. 
Dijon  :  Broederlam's  altar-piece,  39, 

68. 
Dresden—  Gallery  • 

Attributed  to  Bonifazio,  Raising 
of  Lazarus,  190. 

Brueghel,  Jan,  Christ  preaching 
from  Ship,  112. 
■    Brueghel,  Peter,  Preaching  of  St. 
John  Baptist,  81. 

Correggio,  Notte,  49. 

Cranach's  school.  Preaching  of 
St.  John  Baptist,  81 ;  Christ  and 
Adulteress,  177 ;  Christ  blessing 
Little  Children,  209. 

Dietrich,  C.  W.  E.,  Christ  healing 
the  Sick,  115 ;  Adoration  of  Shep- 
herds, 51. 

Diirer,  Crucifixion,  302. 

Eeckhout,  Presentation,  60. 

Farinato,  Presentation,  58. 

Feti,  Good  Samaritan,  178;  Lost 
Sheep,  195;  Laborers  in  Vine- 
yard, 215. 

Fleming  (unknown),  Christ  and 
Peter  on  Water,  155. 

Francia,  Adoration  of  Magi,  66; 
Baptism,  86. 

Franz  Francken  IL,  Christ  and 
Adulteress,  177. 

De  Gelder,  Ecce  Homo,  284. 

Hofmann,  Christ  among  Doctors, 
75 ;  Clirist  and  Adulteress,  177. 

Jordaens,  Prodigal  Son,  199. 

Von  Kiigelgen,  Prodigal  Son,  199. 

Copy  after  Lotto,  Christ  and 
Adulteress,  176. 

Mazzolino,  Ecce  Homo,  283. 

Mengs,  Dream  of  Joseph,  29,  30. 

Rubens,  Prodigal  Son,  199. 

Rubens  school,  Christ  asleep  in 
Tempest,  144. 

Steen,  Marriage  at  Cana,  98. 

Subleyras,  Feast  in  House  of  Si- 
mon, 139. 

Swabian,  Presentation,  54. 

Tintoretto,  Christ  and  Adulteress, 
176. 

Titian,  Christ  and  Tribute  Money, 
234. 


Turehl,  Presentatton,  68. 

Veroiie»e,  Marriage  at  Cana,  97 ; 
Healing  of  Centurion^  8ervant, 
131;  Good  Samaritan,  17»;  Sup- 
per at  Kmmaus,  3U. 

l^ouTerman,  Angel  appearing  to 
Shepherds,  40 ;  Pr^MDlng  of  St 
John  Raptlitt,  M. 
yvin.iv  —  Trinity  Volleffe:  Book  of 

Kells,88,88. 

^ARRIANO— ^.  Maria  dei  Mercato: 
Borgognone*8  Flagellation,  278. 

^KRRAKA—  iltaiery:  Garofaio*8  Rais- 
ing of  I^Azarus,  190. 

''LORKNCK  —  Academ  y  : 

Fra  Angellco*s  panels,  il,  14,  52, 

6K,  7(1,  96,  167,  187,  228,  MO,  244, 
248,260, 263, 26^  266, 267, 276,  288, 

291,  308,  314,  316,  322 ;  Descent 
from  Cross,  306. 
di  Credl,  Adoration  of  Shepherds, 

49. 

da  Fabrlano,  Adoration  of  Magi, 
57,63. 

Gaddl,  altar-piece,  312. 
Attributed  to  Gaddl,  panels,  11, 76, 

167, 187  n.,  316. 
Ghlrlandajo,  Adoration  of  Sliep- 

herds,  4a 
Flllppo  lilppl.  Annunciation,  24  n. 
Peruglno,  Agony  in  Garden,  256. 
Verocchio,  Biaptlsm,  86. 
Biiptistery:  Embroidered  cope,  22, 

34. 
Ghiherti's  pate,  11,  25,  70,  no,  155, 

IfiT,  24(),  '248,  200,  288,  315,  ;U«, 

317  n. 
Andrea  Pisano*s  gate,  17,  '21,  22, 

32,  35,  81,  84,  85.  00. 
Silver  devaiit-autel,  17. 
Church  of  the  Carmine:  Masaccio's 

frescoes,  172. 
Conserratorio   delta    Quiete :    Gio- 
vanni della  Kobbia's  Unbelief  of 
Thomas,  338. 
S.  Croce:  Giottesque  Cenaeolo,  244. 
BaronzeUi  Chattel :  (iaddi's fres- 
coes, 38,  42. 
Peruzzl  Chapel:  Giotto's  fres- 
coes, 18,  22,  35. 
liinucrlni    Chapel:     Giovanni 
da  M llano's  frescoes,  136,  181, 
187. 
Sat'rhty :  Crucifixion,  280. 
Ihiomo:  Luca  della  Robbia's  bas- 
reliefs,  318,  341. 
Foumllhiti  Hospital :  Gbirlandajo's 

Adoration  of  Magi,  37,  2(>.''>. 
!$♦.  Lorenzo :  Filippo  Li])i)i's  Annun- 
ciation, 24  n. 
Laurent ian   Library:  Syrlac  Gos- 
pel, 204. 
»*?.  Marco : 
Fra  Angel ico's  frescoes,  20,  128, 

107,  20(K  302,  322,  323. 
Gbirlandajo's  Last  Supi>er,  244. 
-S.    Maria  Maftdelena    (lei    Pazzi: 
Perugino's  Crucifixion,  300. 


Ogni    SanH:    GlilrlaiidaJo*S  iMfc 

Supper,  944. 
8,  OhMo  :  Last  Sapper,  244. 
Or    San    Mieh&le:      veroechio^ 

IhNH1S0,888. 

Pirn  OaUerp.' 
Baitokmuneo,  Depoattloii,  net 
Cin>U,  Eoee  Homoi,  S8& 
Doid,  Agony  In  Ctaurden,  SOS. 
Fetl,  Lost  Sheep,  195;  Laborers  in 

Vineyard,  2l6w 
Ghlrhindajob  Adoration  of  Magi, 

65. 
Peruglno,  altar-piece,  46;  Deposi- 
tion, sio. 
del  Sarto,  Amnmelatioii,  96L 

BierardiiPeiiaee:    Benoizo  Goc- 
zoll^  freaeoe^  65. 

San  Saivi:  A.  del  Sarto*B,Xa8t  Sup- 
per, 242. 

Seatto  Mmuutery :  Andrea  del  Sar- 
tor frescoes,  19, 21, 88,  80l 

S,  Maria  iNovelia:    Ghlrlandajo^ 
frescoes,  18,  81,  32. 86, 81. 8& 

Sjxinish    Chapd:  Antonio   Yene- 
ziano*s  fresco,  168,  888,  924,  289, 

297,886. 
UffitiOailery:- 

Angelioo,    Naming   of  St  John 
Bapttst,80. 

Bartolommeo.  Ciremnciaion,  53. 

Bassano,  Christ  with  Martha  and 
Mary,  181. 

Bonlfazlo  II.,  Oenacolo,  244, 245. 

Botticelli,  Adoration  of  Magi,  65. 

Attributed  to   Botticelli,  Annun- 
ciation, 26. 

Botticini,  Christ  and  Samaritan 
Woman,  106. 

Cliimenti,  Call  of  Matthew,  121. 

di  Credl.  Noli  me  Tangere,  329. 

Diirer,  Adoration  of  Magi,  65. 

Froment,  triptych,  136, 149, 193. 

Gbirlandajo,  Adoration  of  Magi, 
65. 
I  lotto,  Agony  In  Garden,  254. 

^'ilippo  Lippi,  Adoration  of  Magi, 
65. 

Mantegna,  Circumcision,  62;  As- 
cension, 342. 

Monaco,  Adoration  of  Magi,  64. 

Savoldo,  Transfigiiration,  168. 

Schaeufelein,  Christ  and  Peter  on 
Water,  155. 

After    Tintoretto,    Marriage     at 
Cana,  97. 
Fo  L loxo  —  SS.    Ann  unzinta :    Peru- 
gino's Baptism>  87. 
Fkaxkfort  —  Stddel  Institute:  Pas- 
sion altar-piece  by  elder  Holbein, 

223. 
Fribovrg  —  Cathedral :  Parable  of 

the  Virgins,  235. 

Gaeta  :  Marble  colimin,  6, 83, 239, 240, 

275,  205,  316.  321,  336. 
Gov  DA  c  Holland)  —  St.  Jan's  Kerk  •• 

Van  Noord*s  window,  34. 

Crabeth's  ^tlndow,  128. 


G 
F 


iGUE  —  Museum :       Rembrandt^s 

Presentation,  60. 
AMBURG  —  Hospital :     Overbeck's 

Agony  in  the  Garden,  257. 
JlMPBHiKK       (En(JLANI))  —  Christ 

Church:  Bas-relief , 63. 
lAMPTON    CotmT:   Francia's    Bap- 
tism, 86;  Bassano^  Feast  in  the 
House  of  Simon,  138. 
H1LDK8HKIM  —  Cathedral :    Bronze 

doors,  5. 
HoPTON  —  Church :    Burne  -  Jones's 
stained  window,  320. 

INGELHEIM  —  Church :  Frescoes,  4. 

Leigh  Court  (Brihtol)  :  Rubens's 

Christ  and  the  Adulteress,  177. 
Leipzig  —  Museum  :     Von     Ulide's 

Christ  blessing  Little  Children,  22. 
Liverpool  —  Museum ;      Holbein's 

Prodigal  Son,  198. 
LoDi  —  Church  of  the  Incoronata  : 

Borgognone's  Presentation,  58. 
hovjiO'S  —  Apsley  House;  Correggio's 

Agony  in  the  Garden,  257. 
B.    Benson'^s    Collection :   Duccio's 

Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,  110. 
British  Museum, : 

Jacopo  Bellini's  sltetch-book,  12. 

Michael  Angelo's  drawings,  1K8. 

Hans  Holbenrs  Passion  cartoons, 

223. 

Ivory  tablet,  294. 
Cottonian  psalter,  321. 
Psalter  of  King  Athclstan,  341. 
Dorchester      House :      Tintoretto's 

Raising  of  Lazarus,  190. 
Orosuenor     Gallery:   Claude   Lor- 
raine's Sermon  on  the  Mount,  130. 
Leyland  Collection:    Ford  Madox 

Brown's  Entombment,  314. 
Mr.  Du  MoncVs  Collection :  Perugi- 

no's  Crucifixion,  301,  302. 
South  Kensinffton  Museum :  Rapha- 
el's cartoon.  Miraculous  Draught 
of  Fishes,  110. 
National  Gallery : 
Bassano,  Cleansing  Temple,  100; 

Good  Samaritan,  178. 
Bellini,  Agony  in  Garden.  254, 255. 
Botticelli,  Adoration  of  Magi,  65 ; 

Nativity,  66. 
Brown,    Christ  washing    Peter's 

Feet,  261. 
Cima,  Unbelief  of  Thomas,  338. 
Correggio.  Ecce  Homo,  286 ;  copy  of 

Correggio,  Agony  in  Garden,  257. 
Eastlake.   Christ    weeping   over 

Jerusalem.  231. 
Fabritius,  Birth  of  John  Baptist, 

34. 
Ferrarese  school,  Cenacolo,  240, 

244. 
Filippo  Lfppi,  Annunciation,  24  n. 
Lninf,  Christ  among  Doctors,  74. 
Mantegna,  A.,  Agony  in  Garden, 

256. 
Msntemiai  F.,  Resurrection,  318 ; 


Christ  appearing  to  Magdalene, 

326,  329. 

Melloni,  Walk  to   Emmaus,  331, 

332. 

Mocetto,  Massacre  of  Innocents, 


72. 


Perugino,  altar-piece,  46 ;  Baptism 

87. 
del  Piombo,  Raising  of  Lazarus, 

188. 
Rembrandt,  Adoration  of  Shep- 
herds, 50;  Christ  and  Adulter- 
ess, 177. 
Rembrandt   school,  Christ  bless- 
ing Little  Children,  210. 
Riclimond,  Christ  and  Samaritan 

Woman,  106. 
Rossetti,  Kcce  Ancilla  Domini,  2s. 
Signorelli,    Adoration    of    Shej)- 

herds,  37, 49 ;  Circumcision,  54. 
Lo  Spagna,  Agony  in  Garden,  255. 
Teniers,  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus, 

206. 
Tintoretto,  Christ  washing  Disci- 
ples' Feet,  249. 
Titian,  Noli  me  Tangere,  326. 
Velasquez,    Adoration   of    Shep- 
herds, 50;  Christ  with  Martlia 
and  Mary,  182 ;  Christ  at  Column, 
278. 
Northbrook   Collection :   Cranach's 
Christ   blessing    Little   Cliildren, 
209. 
St.  Peter's  (Vere  St.) :  lUirne-Jones's 
Christ  and  tlie  Samaritan  Woman, 
106. 
Sutherland  Gallery:  Murillo's  Pro- 
digal Son,  201. 
LoNiGo— >S'.  Fermo:  Moretto's  Mar- 
riage at  Cana,  96. 
LoRETO :  Lotto's  Christ  and  the  Adul- 
teress, 176. 
LiBECK  —  Cathedral :  Memling's  al- 
tar-piece, 24,  310. 
Lucca  :  Pisano's  bas-relief,  306. 
Lugano  — .v.   Maria    dcfjfi    Angeli : 

Luini's  Crucifixion,  298,  :ni. 
Lynchburg,  Va.  — .S7.  PauVs  :  Rere- 

dos,  335. 
Lyons  —  Museum  :  Jouvenet's  Feast 
in  House  of  Simon,  139 ;  Perugino's 
Ascension,  341. 

Madrid—  Prado  (iallmj: 

Correggio,    Christ    appearing    to 

Magdalene,  32(;,  32s. 
Van  Dyck,  Betrayal,  261. 
Juanes,  Cross  Bearing,  291. 
Memling,  Presentation,  5l>. 
Mengs,  Adoration  of  Shenherds.no. 
Murillo,  Adoration  of  Snepherds. 

50  n.;  Prodigal  Son,  198. 
Romano,  Lo  Spasinio,  290. 
Rubens,  Adoration  of  Magi,  66 ; 

Supper  at  Emmaus,  334. 
Titian,   Ecce   Homo,  286;  Cross 

Bearing,  291. 
Veronese,  Healing  of  Centurion's 

Servant,  131. 


R — Art  School:  Bume- 
vater- color.  ($6;  Ka^t- 
rist  blessing  Little  Chil- 


:   Copy   of    Le   Sueur's ; 
th  Martha  and  Mary,lK2. ' 
;XK,    ^.\.  —  St.  Mark*8: 
335. 

Rubens^       Miraculous 
)f  Fishes,  112, 156. 
t.John:  Kubens's  Adora- 
»gU66. 

nhrtfsUinn :       Savoldo'S  ' 
ration,  1C8. 

'g   Palace:   Tintoretto's 
d  the  Adulteress,  176. 

(near       Bologna)    — 
Galasso  Galassi's  fres- 
125,  222. 
^ry: 
Christ  with  Martha  and 

Kl.  I 

i,  Christ  and  the  Canaan- 
aan,  163.  I 

,  Flagellation,  276, 277.      I 
,  Marriage  at  Cana,  97 ;  ' 
1  House  of  Simon,  138.       ! 
Ivory  book  cover,  42,  ■ 

^Ue  Grazie :   Da  Vinci's  [ 

Monastero  Maggiore:  \ 
fresco,  27S. 

rrtion  :  Moretto's  Christ 
ritan  Woman,  10.">. 
tilt fl ml:    Axel   Eiider's 
t  Tomb,  3jr.. 

-  Ciithrtlnil:  Twelfth 
iiosaics.  •",,  •_>!,  ■_>*_>,  .'in,  42, 
lis,  IL'T.  l.Ji,  147.  ICl,  IT.J, 

►4,  .ni.  ;ar»,  ■.vii\,  ;r><'.. 

■AN<:KL<>  —  St.  MirhncI  : 

>or.s,2l.  ;is,  r.T,  71,  321. 
.s7.   Cfithdritir's    Afonns- 
'  Transfiguration,  itw;. 
filln-ij  : 
Christ  with  Martha  and 

SI. 

,  l^eposition.  3io, 

Jan,  Preaehinjj  of  John 
.    81 :    Christ    preaching 

ip,  112. 

Christ  and  the  Adulter- 

1  Dyek,  Christ  and  Lame 

I'.. 

\eisheim  altar-piece,  '2'2'A. 

t,  Trodigal  Son,  i;>s. 

ippi.  Annunciation.  24  n. 

;<iue  Baptism,  87. 

Met?l,  310. 

it.   Adoration    of    Sliep- 

'(>;  Descent  from  Cross, 

ein,  Christ  and  Peter  on 

1 .")-). 

,  Presentation,  58. 

n-ist  blessing  Little  Chil- 

0. 


Le  Sueur,  Christ  with  Martha  and 

Mar>-,  1H2. 
Teniers,  Prodigal  Son,  199. 
Titian,     Christ     crowned     with 

Thorns,  280. 
Van  der  Werff,  Ecce  Homo,  284. 
Van   der  Weyden,  Presentation, 

50 ;  Adoration  of  Magi,  65. 

X.VPLES  —  S.  Chiara :  Giotto*s  fresco, 
157. 

Gallery:  A.  Caracci's  Piet^,  310; 
Meldola's  Christ  before  Pilate, 
275. 

S.  Gerolimini :  Giordano's  Cleans- 
ing of  the  Temple,  100. 
N.\  V MBi-RG  —  Stacitki rche  :  L.  Cra- 
nach's  Christ  blessing  Little  Chil- 
dren, 209. 
New  York  — Church  of  the  Ascet^ 
sion:  Stained  window,  324;  La 
Farge's  fresco,  »42. 

Church  of  the  Incarnation:  La 
Farge's  fresco,  66. 

St.  Luke's  Hospital:  Window,  116. 

Metropolitan  Art  Gallery:  Kubens's 
Return  to  Nazareth,  79. 

Church  of  Heavenly  Best:  Stained 
window,  238. 

Mr.  Adolph  Strauss^s  Collection: 
E.  Dubufe's  Prodigal  Son,  199. 

St.  Thomas :  La  Farge's  fresco,  324. 

Church    of    the    Transfiguration: 
Reredos,  169. 
NrKKMi'.KR<; — '<nn   Lorcnz  :    Adam 
KraflECs  Ciborium,  226. 

.S7.  Srttalftus:  Parable  of  the  Vir- 
gins, 235. 

OlJERZKLL— r'Af/rc/j  o/  .S7.  George: 
tenth  century  frescoes,  4, 113,  il8, 
132,  144,  147,  187. 

Oxford— A'/T^fr  College:  Burne- 
Jones's  tapestry,  66. 

Padua  —  Arena  Chajwl :  Giotto's  fres- 
coes, 0,  14,  46,  57,  68,  76,  85,  06,  167, 
187,  221,  228,  231,  232,  240,  247,  248, 
254  n.,  260,  2r)3,  264,  265,  267,  280,  288, 
297.  308,  316,  326,  340. 
Krrniitfuii  Chapel :  Mautegna's  Call 

of  James  and  John,  108. 
Gatlrry:   Padovanino's  Christ  and 
the  Adulteress,  176. 

Paris—  Louvrr : 

Bonifazio  IL,  Kaisingof  Lazarus, 

190. 

Borgognone,  Presentation,  58. 
Bourdon,  Christ   blessing    Little 

Cliildren,  210. 
Caracci,  A.,  Adoration   of    Shep- 

lierds,  50  ;  Resurrection,  320. 
Champaigne,  Feast  in   House  of 

Simon.  l.iO. 
(U  Credi,  \oli  me  Tangere,  329. 
Drouais,  Christ  and  the  Canaanite 

Woman,  163. 
Fabriano,  Presentation,  57. 
German  Marriage  at  Cana,  97. 


INDEX   OF   PLACES 


359 


Guercino,  Raising  of  Lazarus,  190. 

Jouvenet,  Miraculous  Draught  of 
Fishes,  112;  Christ  heahng  the 
Siclc,  115 ;  Feast  in  House  of  Si- 
mon, 139;  Christ  with  Martlia 
and  Mary,  182 ;  Raising  of  Laz- 
arus, 193. 

Lotto,  Christ  and  the  Adulteress, 
176. 

Luini,  Nativity,  37. 

Mantegna,  Crucifixion,  299,  318. 

Mazzolino,  Christ  preaching  from 
the  Sliip,  112. 

Morales,  Clirist  bearing  the  Cross, 
291. 

Murillo,  Agony  in  Garden,  256. 

Pahna,  Adoration  of  Shepherds, 
37. 

Poussin,  Christ  and  the  Adulter- 
ess, 177 ;  Christ  healing  the  Blind 
Men  of  Jericho,  218. 

Raphael,  drawing,  310. 

Rembrandt,  Good  Samaritan,  179; 
Supper  at  Emmaus,  334. 

Reni,  Christ  and  the  Samaritan 
Woman,  105.  • 

Ribera,  Adoration  of.  Shepherds, 
50.  t  ' 

Romano,  Circumcision,  53. 
Rubens,  Tribute  Money,  234. 
Salviati,  Unbelief  of  Thomas,  338. 
Lo   Spagna,  Adoration  of   Shei> 

herds,  49. 
Steenwyclc,  Christ   with  Martha 

and  Mary,  182. 
Subleyras,  Feast  in  House  of  Si- 
mon, 139. 
Le  Sueur,  Flagellation,  278. 
Teniers,  Prodigal  Son,  198. 190. 
Titian,     Christ     crowned     witli 

Thorns,  280 ;  Entombment,  312. 
Veronese,  Marriage  at  Cana,  96; 
Feast  in  House  of  Simon,  138; 
Christ  bearing  the   Cross,  291; 
Supper  at  Emmaus,  334. 
Liiremhonrn    Gallery  :     Tanner's 
Raising  of  Lazarus,  193. 
Parma  —  ^V.    Giovanni  Evangelista : 

Correggio's  fresco,  342. 
Panshanokr  (Herts)  :  A.  del  Sarto's 
Laborers  in  the  Vineyard,  215, 21G. 
?eru(;ia  —  Camhio :  Peruglno's  fres- 
coes, 46,  168,  318. 
Gallery:    Bonfigli's    Adoration    of 
Magi,  63. 
Perugino,  two   baptisms,  86,  87; 
altar-piece,  168. 
['\\u.\iyVA.v\u\  — Aradrwy  of  Fine 
Arts :  West's  Christ  Rejected,  284. 
Church  of  St.  James:  Bas-relief  of 

Call  of  James  and  John,  110. 
Pennsylvania  Hoapifal:  Replica  of 
West's   Christ  liealing  the  Sick, 
116. 
Mr.  John  WananiakerlH  Collection: 
Munkacsy's  Christ  before  Pilate, 
275. 
PiENZA  —  Convent  of  S.  Anna :  Baz- 
zi's  fresco,  158. 


Pisa  —  Cathedral:  John  of  Bologna's 
door,  24,  89 ;  Niccol6  Pisano's  pul- 
pit, 46,  63. 

PisTOJA:   Giovanni   Pisano's  pulpit, 

61. 

PoGGiBONSi  — .S'.  Lucchejie:  Gerino 
da  Pistoja's  frescoes,  158. 

Yrato— Pieve:  Filippo  Lippi's  fres- 
coes, 19,  32,  81. 

Ravenna  —  S.  Apollinare  Nnovo : 
mosaics,  2,  iio,  119,  121,  146,  150, 
166,  187,  207,  219,  239,  258,  273,  287, 
288,  321. 

Cathedral:  Throne  of  Bishop  Max- 
imian,  2, 31, 66, 83, 104, 157 ;  the  Bap- 
tism, 83. 

Church  of  S.  Maria  in  poHo  fvori : 
Giottesque  Call  of  Matthew,  121. 
Rkcanati  —  S.    Maria   sopra    Mer- 
canti:  Lotto's  Annunciation,  26, 
27. 

Mxmicipio :  Lorenzo  Lotto's  Trans- 
figuration, 167. 
Rheims  —  Cathedral :  Statues  of  Ten 

Virgins,  235. 
Rome  —  Barherini  Gallery :  Diirer's 
Christ  among  the  Doctors,  74 ;  copy 
of  Lotto's  Christ  and  the  Adulter- 
ess, 176. 

Borghese  Gallery:  Bonifazio's  Re- 
quest of  the  Mother  of  James  and 
John,  216;  Guercino's  Prodigal 
Son,  201 ;  Raphael's  Entombment, 
312. 

Borghese  Villa:  Early  sarcophagus, 
209  n. 

St.  Calixtus:  Bible  of  St.  Paul,  340. 

Catacomb  of  S.  Agnese:  fresco  of 
Christ  and  Lame  Man,  119. 

Catacmnh  of  S.  Callisto :  fresco  of 
Christ  and  Lame  Man,  119 ;  fresco 
of  Multiplication  of  Loaves,  156. 

Catacomb  of  S.  Pontianus :  fresco 
of  Baptism,  82. 

Cemetery  of  SS.  Marcellino  e  Pie- 
tro :  fresco  of  Adoration  of  Magi, 
62 ;  fresco  of  Marriage  at  Cana,  94 ; 
fresco  of  Multiplication  of  Loaves, 
157. 

Cemeterij  of  SS.  Trasone  e  Satur^ 
7iino:  fresco  of  Multiplication  of 
Loaves,  163. 

Corsinl  Gallery:  Ribera's  Tribute 
Money,  172;  Rocco  Marconi's 
Christ  and  the  Adulteress,  176. 

Cubiculvm  of  S.  Cecilia :  fresco  of 
Adoration  of  Magi,  62;  fresco  of 
Multiplication  of  Loaves,  163; 
fresco  of  Raising  of  Lazarus,  189. 

Doria  Gallery :  Filippo  Lippi's  An- 
nunciation, 24  n. ;  Mazzolino's 
Massacre  of  Innocents,  72. 

St.  John  Lateran :  Sacchi's  pictures, 
19. 

Lateran  Mnseiim:  Bas-relief  of  a 
sarcophagus,  124. 

S.  Lorenzo  in  Lncina :  Guide  Reni's 
Crucifixion,  302. 


GENERAL  INDEX 


.  ^  of  Kings,  the.  See  Kings. 
.^cjf  Sliepherds.    See  Slie])- 

.  :^  eroux  d',  Histbire  de  I'Art 

c  :»uumens,  cited,  5, 181, 247. 

t  »e  Garden,  the,  subject  in 

mosaics,  7;  in    Barna's 

10;  in  Cologne  school  se- 

1. 1 1  Fra  Angelico's  panels, 

l^iberti's  gate,  11;  in  Cre- 

*^coes,  13;  in  Ferrari's  fres- 

.  Vy/iS  ;  in  Tintoretto's  frescoes, 

''^suitability  for  representa- 

*  relation  to  adjacent  sub- 

1  5    features  of  typical  com- 

^jXA ;  examples  of,  2.54-258. 

X  e  Call  of.    See  Peter. 

c*aring  to  Kings,  subject  on 

window,  6. 
.    l)rophetess),   place  of  in 
ction,  50,  .57. 

^ion   (to  Mary  the  Virgin), 

in  Vic   fres<u)es,  4;  in  fres- 

— ^t.  Urban  alia  Caffarclla,  5; 

%:,i\  cohinui,  5;  on    Chartrcs 

^    (> ;  in  ]\I()iireale  mosaics,  (> ; 

'V'  11'*'^  of  (Jospel  Hooks,  s  ;  in 

frescoes,    10 ;    in    (>>l()gne 

',  caries,  10;    in  Fra  Anj^elico's 

■X  1 ;  oil  Ghibertl's  ^ate,  11 ;  in 

•*4    frescoes,  i;{ ;   in  Tiiitoret- 

.j^coes,  15;    features    of    the 

compositions,    'J3,    24;    ex- 

of,  '-'4-2H. 

.^tion  to  .Joseph.    See  .Joseph. 

£,  tion  to  Shepherds.  See  Siiep- 

j,tion  toZacharias.    See  Zaeli- 

j-  Jesns  (or  Capture  of  Jesus), 
.t^i<jn  of  siil)ject  with  betrayal, 

jji,  the,  sulijeet   in  liaveuna 

.j4,  2;  on  (Jaeta  cohuun,5;  in 
,Vci  frescoes,  9,  340  ;  in  Cologne 
^  "c;eries,  lO;  in  Fra  Auf>;eli(*o's 
'.  ll,  340;  subject  compared 
^-'I'siH^h juration  and  Jiesurree- 

.^<j  ;  three  forms  of  art  subject, 

'ji^iimples  of,  340-342. 
-,11,  J.  H.,  opinion  of,  cited,  257. 

I,  subject  in  primitive  Ciu-istian 
ele,  2;  on  Gaeta  colunui.  5  ;  on  \ 


Chartres  window,  6;  in  Monreale 
mosaics,  6 ;  in  miniatures  of  Gospel 
Books,  8 ;  in  Giotto's  frescoes,  9 ;  in 
Barna's  frescoes,  10;  in  Cologne 
school  series,  10 ;  in  panels  of  Giot- 
to's school,  10;  in  Fra  Angelico's 
mnels,  11, 84 ;  on  Ghibertl's  gate,  11 ; 
n  Jacopo  Bellini's  sketch-book,  12; 
n  Ferrari's  frescoes,  13 ;  in  Tintoret- 
to's frescoes,  15, 84,  80 ;  on  Pisano's 
gate,  17,  85 ;  in  Siena  bas-reliefs,  17  • 
in  terra  cotta  bas-reliefs,  17 ;  in  bas- 
reliefs  at  Amiens,  18;  in  San  Severi- 
uo's  frescoes,  18 ;  in  Masolino's  fres- 
coes, 18, 84;  in  Ghirlandajo's  frescoes, 
19,  85 ;  in  the  Scalzo  frescoes,  19  ;  in 
Sacchi's  series,  19;  reasons  for  im- 
portance of  subject,  82 ;  features  of 
typical  composition,  82-85 ;  examples 
of,  85-87. 

Bathing  of  infant  Jesus,  subject  in 
the  Monreale  mosaics,  0. 

Henedlctionale  of  .-Ethelwold,  8,  341. 

Herenson,  Hernhard,  "  Venetian  Paint- 
ers of  the  Kenaissance  "  referred  to, 
170  n.;  "Central  Italian  J'ainters," 
referred  to,  22;  opinion  of,  cited,  318. 

Bernard,  St.,  Perfect  Legend,  cited,  24. 

Hetliesda,  Impotent  Mtiu  healed  at, 
history  of  subject,  124, 125 ;  examples 

of,  125,  12<>. 

Bethlehem,  Journey  to,  subject  in 
Cologne  scliool  series,  10. 

Betrayal,  the,  subject  in  Monreale 
mosaics,  7 ;  in  miniatures  of  Gospel 
liooks,  8;  history  of  subject,  25H; 
features  of  composition,  259,  200 ; 
ex;imples  of,  200. 201.  See,  also.  Kiss 
of  .ludas. 

"  Bible  of  Amiens,"  quoted,  3 ;  referred 
to,  30. 

Bible  of  St.  Paul,  340. 

r.liud,  lleiiling  of,  subject  in  primitive 
Ciuistiau  art  cycle,  1;  in  Oberzell 
frescoes,  4;  in  Monreale  mosaics,  7; 
in  miniatures  of  Gospel  Books,  8 ; 
subject  in  cju-ly  art,  119,  134-1,35. 
See  also  special  subjects,  ('hrist  heal- 
ing lUlnd  Man  of  Bethsaida,  Two 
P.lind  Men  healed,  liestoration  of 
Man  born  blind,  Christ  healing  Blind 
i\Ien  of  Jericho. 

lilind,  Man  l)orn,  Kestoration  of,  sub- 
ject in  Illustrated  Bibles,  184. 


Man  of  Bethsaida,  Christ  heal- 
,  subject  of  Kossetti  memorial 
jdow,  165. 

d   Men,  Two,  healed,  subject  in 
onreale  mosaics,  7 ;  possible  sub- 
let of  early  representations,  135; 
1  ivory  bas-relief,  152 ;  in  illustra- 
ions  by  Bida  and  Tissot,  152. 
ind  Men  of  Jericho,  Clirist  healing, 
possible  subject  of  early  representa- 
tions, 135;  examples  of  subject  in 
art,  218. 
Bordiga,  "  Storia  e  Guida  del  Sacro 

Monte,"  cited,  249. 
Bretagne,  Anne  de,  Livre  d'Heures, 

38. 
Burial,  Preparation  for,  distinguished 
as  an  art  subject,  308, 311. 

Calvary,  Journey  to,  subject  in  Ferra- 
ri's frescoes,  13.  See,  also,  same 
subject  under  titles  of  Christ  bear- 
ing the  Cross,  Christ  led  to  Calvary. 

Cana,  marriage  at,  subject  in  Monreale 
mosaics,  G  ;  in  Giotto's  frescoes,  9, 
96;  in  Barna's  frescoes,  10,  95;  in 
Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11,  9();  in 
Jacopo  Bellini's  sketch-book,  12 ; 
early  popularity  of  subject,  93.  94 ; 
early  type  of  composition,  94 ;  three 
motif  a  in  story,  95 ;  Venetian  type  of, 
96 ;  examples  of,  95-98 ;  sacramental 
character  of  subject,  94,  332.  See, 
also.  Miracle  of  turning  Water  into 
Wine. 

Canaanite  (or  Syro-Phoenician)  Wo- 
man, Christ  and,  neglect  of  subject 
in  art,  161 ;  examples  of,  161-163. 

**  Cartwright,  Julia,"  opinion  of,  cited, 
40. 

Centurion,  place  in  Crucifixion,  297. 

Centurion,  Servant  of,  healed,  rare 
subject  in  art,  131;  examples  of, 
131-132. 

Child  Jesus  in  Temple,  important  sub- 
ject in  art,  73,  74 ;  examples  of,  74- 
79.  See,  also,  same  subject  under 
titles  of  Christ  among  the  Doctors 
and  Dispute  in  the  Temple. 

Christ  advancing  to  meet  the  Soldiers, 
subject  in  Cologne  school  series,  10. 

Christ  among  the  Doctors,  subject  in 
Monreale  mosaics,  6;  in  Barna's 
frescoes,  lO;  in  i)anels  of  Giotto's 
school,  10 ;  in  Fra  Angelico's  panels, 
11;  on  Ghiberti's  gate,  11:  in  Cre- 
mona frescoes,  13;  subject  distin- 
guished from  Christ  found  in  Tem- 
ple, 75;  examples  of,  74,  75.  See, 
also,  same  subject  under  titles  of 
Dispute  in  the  Temple  and  Child 
Jesus  in  the  Temple. 

Christ  and  the  Kicli  Young  Man,  rare 
examples  in  art,  213,  214. 

Christ  appearing  to  Disciples,  subject 
in  Monreale  mosaics,  7. 

Christ  asleep  in  Tempest,  subject  in 
miniatures  of  (losi)el  Books,  «;  in 
painting  by  imitator  of  Kubens,  144. 


Christ  at  Calvary,  subject  in  Ferrari's 
frescoes,  13. 

Christ  at  the  Cross,  subject  in  Mon 
reale  mosaics,  7. 

Christ  at  the  Column,  subject  on  Gaeta 
column,  5;  in  Cremona  frescoes,  13. 
See,  also,  the  same  subject  undei 
the  title  of  the  Flagellation. 

Christ  at  the  Praitorium,  subject  in 
Barna's  frescoes,  10.  See,  also, 
Christ  before  Pilate. 

Christ  bearing  the  Cross,  subject  iii 
Barna's  frescoes,  10;  in  Cologne 
school  series,  10;  in  Cremona  fres- 
coes, 13.  See,  also,  the  same  sub 
ject  under  the  title  of  Christ  led  to 
Calvary. 

Christ  before  Annas,  reasons  for  rarity 
as  art  subject,  262 ;  examples  of,  262 

Christ  before  Caiphas,  subject  in  minia 
tures  of  Gospel  Books,  8 ;  in  Giotto's 
frescoes,  9,  263,  264,  265;  in  Cologne 
school  series,  10 ;  in  Fra  Angelico's 
panels,  11, 265 ;  in  Cremona  frescoes. 
13 ;  in  Ferrari's  frescoes,  13 ;  history 
of  subject  in  art,  263;  features  ol 
composition,  263 ;  examples  of,  264, 

265. 

Christ  before  Herod,  subject  in  CVe 
mona  series,  13 ;  in  other  series,  269- 
271. 

Christ  before  Pilate,  First  Appearance 
of,  place  in  art  compared  with  sec 
ond  appearance,  268;  examples  of. 
268,  269. 

Christ  before  Pilate,  Last  Appearance 
of,  subject  in  primitive  Christian  art 
cycle,  1, 272 ;  in  Kavenna  mosaics.  2 
273;  in  Monreale  mosaics,  7;  in  (^o 
logne  school  series,  10 ;  on  Ghiberti's 
pate,  11 ;  in  Ferraii's  frescoes,  13 ;  in 
Tintoretto's  frescoes,  15,  273,  274; 
different  forms  in  art,  272 ;  features 
of  early  composition,  272,  273;  ex 
am))les  of,  in  later  art,  274,  275. 

Christ  before  the  Sanhedrim,  subject 
in  Kavenna  mosaics.  2. 

Christ  blessing  Little  Children,  subject 
peculiar  to  Teutonic  races,  209 ;  ex- 
amples, 209-212. 

Christ  crowned  with  Thorns,  subject 
in  Cremona  frescoes,  13;  distin 
guished  from  the  Mocking,  280 ;  ex- 
amples of,  in  art,  280, 2«l. 

Clirist  found  in  the  Temple,  subject 
distinguished  from  Chri.st  among  the 
Doctors,  75;  examples  of,  76-78. 

Christ  healing  the  Sick,  a  modem  sub- 
ject, 115;  examples  of,  115-117. 

Christ  led  «away  ('aptive,  connection 
of  subject  with  Betrayal,  258 ;  exam 
pies  of,  260,  261. 

Christ  led  to  Calvary,  origin  and  his 
tory  of  subject  in  art,  288 ;  two  types 
of  composition,  288;  examples  of 
288-291 ;  idealized  form  of  subject 
291. 

Christ  led  to  Death,  subject  in  the 
Cremona  frescoes,  13. 


r  U>rl*t  Htriviicil  ul  lil»  liuiiueiit,  sulv 
ject  iu  tew  url  ieiien.  ■£». 

Utrlit  walklag   nn    Water,    siilijvut 
I      known  b;  viu^ous  tltleH,  103 ;  exum- 

_plaa  ot  US-US. 
I  CKHst  wUb  AtwatlH  an   the   I^kc 

L        KUbjMt  M  QMtHITCI-H       - 

'  CbrteC  >IUi  MsrUu  it 

Irct  devel      ■  "  " 

JimrUWl---, 
Christ  with  Womau  ukvii  in  Adut 

tery,  *ub}eeC  In  Uoiireale  diomIlii. 
I      Ti  siibjeel  ileTeloueil  IMe,  lU:  fes- 

turea  cf  mmpMiuou,  174 ;  f lampies 


Christ  waihlng  tha  Disciples'  F.'.-„ 
Christ  washing  the   nisofuIeH'  f.'.l,    1 
subject  In  fresooes  of  at.  Urlinii  iiil.i 
Catfareltn.  Hi  in  Houreule  iiio^^ili--,    . 
7:  InUlotto'i  (resooes,  it,  ■J4"  i  in  fn- 


Crowo   and   ravsJcnsell?.  (luotalli! 
Iruui,  Xil. 

Cruclfli.  origin  aiid  ilevelopmcnt  ot. 
aVJ,  303. 

Cruulfltloii,  ["repKriitioti  for,  1 
art  subjects  devotvil  b),  •JSJ,  •£ 

Cruulflxlon,  subtt-ot  on  Uneta  o 
isi  In  ManreaieiiiuHi|l<Ht,7i  tnimuK 
turpK  Kt  utNitici  liooks,  II :  in  Giafta 
Ire^viica.  11 :  En  Banut's  freaeoes,  U 
111  (.'uloKiw  scliool  serhsa,  lO;  biwr 
elsoftiluttu's  school. II;  fnnali 
gellco-s    naucl-i,    Hi   on    GHIbWtt^ 


gellcu's  naucl<i,  Hi  on  Ol: 
mM,  II I  111  Jacopo  BelllDtv 
Eouk,  19;  IQ  CrcDKnia  &«iei 


Iu  Fcrrnri^  Irescoei, 
recto's  tresooes,  is ;  reasmis  its'  1 
presentatlun  in  itrt,  UN,  SOi;  MJI 
of  subjeel,  130,  294 1   earlfest  revi 

RenUllsnH,  aiton.,  2M;  (eatnrca 
earl7  tn>e  ol  cumiioBltlon,  SM:  1 

voiapment  ol  suhjw  ' -"— 

— --  TflSiSWi  Inter 

)a,aB7i  exam, 

(icIfliloH,  3Mi-3»H. 


wMping  oror  Jeruaulem.  auli- 
cc         uatnUDES  by  Eastlake  and 
Sc    (T     231. 
C      m      on  of  Christ,  subject  In  Bar- 
oa        esvoGs.  10 ;  In  Cologiiii  school 
{  In  Fra  AukcHco's  panels, 
emona  Iresooes,  13 ;  In  Tin- 
to    tt       frescoes,  IS:  features  of 
po     Ion,  62 ;   examples  of.  att- 
M  tlDguIshed  from   Presunta- 

ea       K  of  the  Temple.  First,  oon- 
se    w  th  second  occasion,  'M;  en- 

f,  Bll-lUl. 

nsing  ut  the  Temple,  Second,  ex- 
om         f snb]eetlnart,23l-233.  See, 
ISO         subject.  Muui^jr  CIumilBrs 
cas         of  Temple. 
Ood  jbert,  38, 118. 

tto  FsaltBr,  32L 

Constantinople,  220, 394. 


V    iw  ,  *;   orijcLU  anu  uitjwry 
1      b  art,  301 ;  features  of  ci 
I      n,  304 ;  examples  of,  3<K,  3Ui. 
E   Tntionot,  subject  In  Cologne 
00      erles,  10;   In  seventeenth 
urt,Z»2. 
«    N     Ing  to,  examples  uf  subject 


siibjoot,  807,  an 
a  othfersubjec 


subject,  SDSj  examples  of,  30 

Descent  Into  LImbuB,  subjeot  on  QlM, 
cohimn,  0 ;  distinguished  as  AO  U 
subject.  31* !  examples  of,  31'        ^^ 


..  AntMleo 

panels,  11;  on  Uhlberti'a  EBte,  tl 
conoeetion  of  subject  Willi  Aioej 
sion,  343. 
Devils.  DrirlnK  out  of,  subject  In  ml 


Gospel 
iBof'ne 


Books,  8.    Set 


Eastlake.  Lady,  authority  ol,  1 

Eoce  Homo,  origin  of  subject  ll 
281 1  features  of  hlstorioal  eon 
tionF<,2g2;  examples  of,  sss-sasi  1 

allzed  forma  of  -im. 


/O;    Return  from,  71.     See,  also, 
Flight. 

Bimaus,  Supper  at,  sacramental  char- 
acter of  subject,  332 ;  origin  of  sub- 
ject in  art,  332 ;  description  of  com- 
position, 333 ;  examples  of,  333-335. 

Cmmaus,  Walk  to,  reasons  for  infre- 
quency  of  subject  in  art,  330 ;  exam- 
ples of,  330-332. 

Enemy  sowing  Tares,  examples  of,  in 
art,  142, 143. 

Entombment,  history  of  subject  in  art, 
311 ;  features  of  composition,  311 ; 
examples  of,  311-314. 

Entry  into  Jerusalem,  subject  in  primi- 
tive Christian  art  cycle,  1 ;  in  Vic 
frescoes,  5 ;  in  frescoes  of  St.  Urban 
alia  Caffarella,  5 ;  on  Gaeta  column, 
6 ;  on  Chartres  window,  6 ;  in  Mon- 
reale  mosaics,  7;  in  miniatures  of 
Gospel  Books,  8;  in  Giotto's  fres- 
coes,  9, 228 ;  in  Barna's  frescoes,  10 ; 
in  Cologne  school  series,  10 ;  in  Fra 
Angelico's  panels,  11,  228;  on  Ghi- 
berti's  gate,  11;  in  Ferrari's  fres- 
coes, 13;  character  and  history  of 
subject,  226, 227 ;  features  of  typical 
composition,  228 ;  examples  of  treat- 
ment, 228-230. 

Eucharist,  Institution  of,  subject  in 
Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11, 244. 

Ezekiel,  Vision  of,  subject  in  Fra  An- 
gelico's panels,  11. 

Farewell  Discoiu-se,  Our  Lord's,  pic- 
tures of,  by  Duccio  and  Bonifazio  IL, 
252. 

Feast  in  House  of  Simon,  reasons  for 
popularity  of  subject  in  art,  136; 
features  of  composition,  136,  137; 
examples  of,  137-139;  distinguished 
from  kindred  subject,  139. 

Five  Thousand,  Christ  feeding  the, 
sacramental  significance  of  subject, 
156,  332 ;  early  type  of  composition, 
155,  156;  later  examples,  157-160. 
See,  also,  Christ  feeding  Four  Thou- 
sand, and  Multiplication  of  Loaves. 

Flagellation,  subject  in  Barna's  fres- 
coes, 10 ;  in  Cologne  school  series,  10 ; 
in  Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11;  in 
Ghiberti's  gate,  11 ;  in  Jacopo  Bel- 
lini's sketch-book,  12;  in  Ferrari's 
frescoes,  13 ;  origin  of  subject  in  art, 
275;  features  of  the  composition, 
276 ;  examples  of,  275-278.  See,  also, 
Christ  at  the  Column. 

*'light  into  Egypt,  subject  in  the  fres- 
coes of  St.  Urban  alia  Caffarella,  5 ; 
on  Gaeta  column,  5;  on  Chartres 
window,  6 ;  in  Monreale  mosaics,  6, 
68;  in  Giotto's  frescoes,  9,68;  on 
Barna's  frescoes,  10 ;  in  Fra  Angeli- 
co's panels,  11,  68 ;  in  Cremona  fres- 
coes, 13;  in  Ferrari's  frescoes,  13, 
68 ;  In  Tintoretto's  frescoes,  15,  68 ; 
typical  composition,  68;  examples 
of,  68-70. 

Four  Thousand,  Christ  feeding  the. 


distinguished  from  the  other  similar 
miracle,  163;  examples  of,  163,  164. 
See,  also,  Christ  feeding  the  Five 
Thousand,  and  Multiplication  of 
Loaves. 

Garrucci,  "Storia  della  Arte  Cristi- 

ana,"  referred  to,  30,  62, 113, 131, 145, 

156  n.,  186,  246,  263. 
Gilbert,  opinion  of,  cited,  107. 
Golden  Candlestick,  subject  in  Fra 

Angelico's  panels,  11. 
Gospel  Book  of  Gotha,  8,  67,  96,  lis, 

120,  125,  131,  144,  157,  161,  173,    215, 

295  304  311  322. 
Gospel  Book'of  Munich,  8, 76, 118, 128, 

144, 157, 166, 178,  209,  254,  295,  304,  311, 

322. 
Gospel  Book  of  Trier,  8, 30, 76, 95, 118, 

125, 127, 131, 144, 157, 161, 296,  304,  311, 

322. 
Gregory  Nazianzen,  St.,  Sermon  of, 

8,76. 

Herod,  Feast  of,  subject  in  Siena  bas- 
reliefs,  17. 

Herod  ordering  the  Massacre,  subject 
in  the  Monreale  mosaics,  6. 

Jairus,  Christ  raising  Daughter  of,  sub- 
ject compared  with  Raising  Wid- 
ow's  Son  at  Nain,  147;  features  of 
composition,  148;  examples  of,  147- 
149. 

James,  place  of  in  Christ  raising 
Daugliter  of  Jairus,  148. 

James,  St.,  Protevangelion,  cited,  24. 

James  and  John,  Call  of,  associated 
with  Call  of  Peter  and  Andrew,  108 ; 
examples  of,  108-110. 

James  and  John,  Request  of  Mother 
of,  subject  of  painting  by  Bonifazio, 
216-218. 

Jameson,  Mrs.,  "  Legends  of  the  Ma- 
donna "  cited,  24, 28, 42, 56  n.,  65  n.,  70, 
71  n.,  76  n.,  79, 290 ;  opinion  cited,  66, 
130,  132,  187  n. ;  quotation  from,  72, 
73,  100, 115,  126, 178,  206,  235 ;  "  Sacred 
and  Legendary  Art"  cited,  120  n., 
242  n.,  2(55,  290. 

John,  Call  of.    See  James. 

Jolm,  place  of,  in  Christ  raising  Daugli- 
ter of  Jairus,  148 ;  place  of,  in  Last 
Supper,  240 ;  place  of,  in  Crucifixion, 
294, 295, 296 ;  in  Descent  from  Cross, 
304,  306 ;  in  Deposition,  308 ;  in  En- 
tombment, 311. 

John  the  Baptist,  St.,  life  of,  in  serial 
art  treatment,  2, 16-19. 

John  the  Baptist,  St.,  Birth  of,  sub- 
ject on  risano's  gate,  17;  on  Siena 
bas-reliefs,  17 ;  in  terra-cotta  bas- 
reliefs,  17 ;  in  Giotto's  frescoes,  18 ; 
in  San  Severino's  frescoes,  1«;  in 
Ghlrlandajo's  frescoes,  19 ;  in  Filippo 
Lippi's  frescoes,  19;  in  Andrea  del 
Sarto's  frescoes,  19 ;  in  Sacchi's  pic- 
tures, 19;  features  of  composition, 
31, 32 ;  examples  of,  32-34. 


Baptist,  St,  Rejoicing  over 
f.  in  Sacchi's  pictures,  19. 
Baptist,  8t,  Oircumcislou  of, 
usually  ignored,  34 ;  subject 
tteverlDo^s  frescoes,  17,  34, 

Baptist,  St,  Naming  of,  sub- 
risauCs  gate,  17 ;  In  terra- 
inels,  17 ;  in  G1otto*s  frescoes, 
Masolino*s  frescoes,  18 ;  In 
idaJo*s  frescoes,  19;  in 
(  pictures,  10 ;  as  a  separate 
,  34, 35 ;  examples,  a5, 3G. 
Baptist,  St,  as  a  Cliild,  sub- 
«rrarCotta  bas-reliefs,  17. 
Baptist,  Ht,  departs  for  the 
less,   subject    on    Pisano*s 

Baptist,  St..  Departure  of, 
s  Parents,  subject  in  Fillppo 
frescoes,  ID ;  in  Scalzo  fres- 

Baptist,  St.,  Preaching  of, 

in  Pisano*s  gate,  17 :  in 
)as-reliefs,  17;  In  bas-reliefs 
ens,  18 ;  in  San  SeTerino*s 
s,  18 ;  in  Masolino's  frescoes, 
}liirlandajo*s  frescoes,  19 ;  in 

Lippl's  frescoes,  19;  in  An- 
el  Sarto*s  frescoes,  19 ;  in 
i  series,  19;  importance  of 
,  80 ;  features  of  composition, 
niples  of,  81, 82. 
BaptiHt,  St.,  baptizes  in  Jor- 
)ject  Oil  Plsano's  gate,  17 ;  in 
jvoriiio's  frescoes,  18;  in 
.'rescoes,  19. 

Baptist,  St.,  meeting  with 
subject  in   Scalzo  frescoes, 

Baptist,  St.,  announces  Ad- 

Clnist  (points  out  Jesus  to 
)le),  subject  on  Plsano's  gate, 
as-reliefs  at  Amiens,  is. 
Baptist,  St.,  reproves  Herod, 
on  Pisano's  gate,  17. 

Ba])tist.  St,  before  Herod, 
in  Masolino's  frescoes,  18. 
liaptist,  St.,  Capture  of  (made 
r),  subject  in  bas-reliefs  at 
,  18 ;  in  Scalzo  frescoes,  19. 

Baptist,  St.,  led  to  Prison, 
on  Pisano's  gate,  17. 
Baptist,  St.,  in  Prison,  subject 
)lino's  frescoes,  18. 

Baptist,  St,  questioned  by 
ubject  on  Pisano's  gate,  17. 

Baptist,  St.,  ('ondemnation 
ect  in  Siena  bas-reliefs,  17. 
5  Baptist,  St.,  Beheading  of 
cution,  or  Decapitation  of), 
on  Pisano's  gate,  17 ;  in  terra- 
is-reliefs,  17 ;  in  bas-reliefs  at 
,  18;  in  Masolino's  frescoes, 
ilippo  Lippi's  frescoes,  19 ;  in 

del  Sarto's  frescoes,  19. 

liaptist,  St,  Disciples  bury 
f,  subject  on  Pisano's  gate, 


John  the  Baptist,  St,  Head  of,  asked 
for  by  Daughter  of  Herodias,  sub- 
ject on  Pisano's  gate,  17 ;  in  haue- 
lief  at  Amiens,  18 ;  received  by  Herod 
at  Supper,  subject  on  Pi8ano*s  gate, 
17 ;  in  bas-reliefs  at  Amiens,  18:  pre- 
sented to  Herod  by  Salome,  subject 
in  Giotto's  frescoes,  18;  brought  to 
Herod,  subject  in  Andrea  del  Sarto's 
frescoes,  19 ;  brought  to  Salome,  sub- 
ject in  Fllippo  Lippi's  frescoes,  19; 
presented  to  Salome  by  Execu- 
tioner, subject  in  Sacchi's  pictures, 
19 ;  carried  by  Daughter  of  Herodias 
to  her  Mother,  subject  on  Pisano's 
gate,  17 ;  obtained  by  Disciples,  sub- 
ject on  Pisano's  gate,  17. 

Joseph,  Annunciation  to,  rare  in  art, 
30 ;  examples  of,  30, 31 ;  Dream  of,  im- 
portant in  early  art,  67 ;  examples  of, 
from  later  art,  67, 68 ;  second  Dream 
of,  71. 

Joseph,  place  of,  in  Nativity,  44:  in 
Circumcision,  62  ;  in  Presentation, 
66,67 ;  in  Christ  found  in  the  Temple, 
76. 

Joseph  of  Arimathflea,  place  of,  in 
Descent  from  Cross,  304-306;  in  De- 
position, 308 ;  in  Entombment,  311. 

Joseph  (tno  patriarch),  life  of,  in  art 
series.  2. 

Judas  and  the  High  Priest,  subject  in 
Ravenna  mosaics,  2.  See,  also.  Bar- 
gain of  Judas. 

Judas,  Bargain  of,  subject  in  Giotto's 
frescoes,  9 ;  in  Barua's  frescoes,  10 ; 
in  Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11 ;  in  Duc- 
cio's  Passion  series,  221.  See,  also, 
Judas  and  the  High  Priest 

Judas,  distinguished  from  Simon,  139; 
place  of,  in  Last  Supper,  241 ;  char- 
acterization of,  in  the  Betrayal,  2C0. 

Judas,  Kiss  of,  subject  in  Giotto's 
frescoes,  9 ;  in  Barna's  frescoes,  10 ; 
in  Cologne  school  series,  10;  com- 
mon wot?/ in  representation  of  Be- 
trayal, 260.    See,  also.  Betrayal. 

Kells,  Book  of,  88. 

Kings,  Adoration  of,  subject  in  primi- 
tive Christian  art  cycle,  1;  in  Vic 
frescoes,  4;  on  Gaeta  column,  G;  on 
Chartres  window,  0;  in  miniatures 
of  Gospel  Books,  8 ;  in  Giotto's  fres- 
coes, 9 ;  in  Barna's  frescoes,  10 ;  in 
panels  of  Giotto's  school,  10 ;  in  Fra 
Angelico's  panels,  11;  in  Ghiberti's 
gate,  11 ;  in  .Tacopo  Bellini's  sketch- 
book, 12 ;  in  Cremona  frescoes,  13 ;  in 
Ferrari's  frescoes,  13 ;  in  Tintoretto's 
frescoes,  15.  See,  also,  same  subject 
under  title  of  Magi  bringing  Gifts, 
and  Adoration  of  Magi. 

Kings  before  Herod,  subject  on 
Chartres  window,  6,  61;  subject 
not  rare  in  early  art,  61. 

Laborers  in  the  Vineyard,  Parable  of, 
examples  of  subject  in  art,  216, 216. 


me  Man  at  Bethesda  healed,  sub- 
ject in  Tintoretto's  frescoes,  15. 
imentation,  distinguished  as  an  art 
subject,  308. 

anzi,  Luigi,  opinion  of  cited,  109. 
Ast  Judgment,  subject  in  Ravenna 
mosaics,  2 ;  on  Gaeta  column,  5 ;  in 
Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11. 

Last  Supper,  subject  in  Ravenna  mo- 
saics, 2,  239;  in  Vic  frescoes,  5;  in 
frescoes  of  St.  Urban  alia  Caffarella, 
5;  on  Gaeta  column,  5,  239,  240;  in 
Monreale  mosaics,  7, 239 ;  in  Giotto's 
frescoes,  9, 240 ;  in  Barna's  frescoes, 
10;  in  Cologne  school  series,  10;  in 
Gaddi's  panels,  11 ;  in  Fra  Angelico's 
panels,  11,  240;  on  Ghiberti's  gate, 
11, 240 ;  in  Cremona  frescoes,  13 ;  in 
Ferrari's  frescoes,  13, 240 ;  in  Tinto- 
retto's frescoes,  15,  240;  history  of 
subject  in  art,  239,  240 ;  features  of 
typical  compositions,  240,  241;  two 
classes  of  subjects  in,  241 ;  examples 
of  treatment  in  art,  241-246. 

Layard,  A.  H.,  opinion  of,  cited,  53  n. 

Lazarus,  Raising  of,  subject  in  prim- 
itive Christian  art  cycle,  1;  in  Ra- 
venna mosaics,  2,  187;  in  Oberzell 
frescoes,  4,  187 ;  in  frescoes  of  St. 
Urban  alia  Caffarella,  5;  in  Mon- 
reale mosaics,  7 :  in  miniatures  of 
Gospel  Books,  8;  in  Giotto's  fres- 
coes, 9, 187 ;  in  Barna's  frescoes,  10 ; 
in  Fra  Angelico's  panels,  11, 187  ;  on 
Ghiberti's  gate,  11;  in  Jacopo  Bel- 
lini's sketch-book,  12;  in  Ferrari's 
frescoes,  13;  in  Tintoretto's  fres- 
coes,  15, 190 ;  reasons  for  importance 
in  art,  185, 186 ;  early  type  of  compo- 
sition, 186;  history  compared  with 
Adoration  of  Magi,  187 ;  features  of 
developed  composition,  187 ;  exam- 
ples of,  187-193. 

Leper  cleansed,  rare  examples  of,  118. 

Lepers,  Ten,  healed,  examples  of  sub- 
ject in  art,  173. 

Lindsay,  Lord,  quoted,  120,  125 ;  opin- 
ion of,  cited,  209. 

Longinus,  place  of,  in  Crucifixion,  295, 
296. 

Lord,  Our,  life  of,  in  serial  art  treat- 
ment, 1-16;  preparation  for,  20-43; 
infancy  and  childhood  of,  44-79; 
preparation  of,  for  the  ministry,  80- 
98 ;  life  of,  from  first  to  second  pass- 
over,  99-123 ;  life  of,  from  second  to 
third  passover,  124-160 ;  life  of,  from 
third  passover  to  entry  into  Jerusa- 
lem, 161-218 ;  passion  of,  219-314 ;  life 
of,  from  resurrection  through  the 
ascension,  315-343. 

Lost  Piece  of  Money,  Parable  of,  rare 
subject  in  art,  195 ;  examples  of,  195, 
196. 

Lost  Sheep,  Parable  of,  rare  subject 
in  art,  195 ;  examples  of.  195, 196. 

Lucy,  St.,  Legend  of,  236. 

Magdalene,  Christ  appearing  to,  fea- 


tures of  subject  in  art,  326  ;  examples 
of,  326-329;  comparison  of  subject 
with  Christ  and.  the  Samaritan  Wo- 
man, 329.  See,  ;ilso.  Noli  me  Tan- 
gere. 

Magdalene  anointing  Feet  of  Christ, 
subject  in  Monreale  mosaics,  7.  See, 
also,  subject  of  Feast  in  the  House 
of  Simon. 

Magdalene,  traditionary  relation  of,  to 
Lazarus,  136 ;  place  of,  in  Crucifixion, 
297 ;  in  Deposition,  308 ;  in  Entomb- 
ment, 311. 

Magi,  Adoration  of,  subject  in  Cologne 
school  series,  10;  of  paintings  by 
Ghirlandajo  and  Perugino,  37 ;  rea- 
sons for  popularity,  61 ;  early  type 
of  composition,  62 ;  later  types,  63 ; 
examples  of,  63-66.  See,  also,  same 
subject  under  titles  of  Magi  bring- 
ing Gifts  and  Adoration  of  Kings. 

Magi  bringing  Gifts,  subject  in  fres- 
coes of  St.  Urban  alia  Caffarella,  5 ; 
in  Monreale  mosaics,  6.  See,  also, 
same  subject  under  titles  of  Adora- 
tion of  Magi  and  Adoration  of 
Kings. 

Magi,  Dream  of,  rare  examples  of,  61. 

Magi,  Star  appearing  to.  See  Wise 
Men. 

Man  possessed  of  Devil  healed,  sub- 
ject in  Monreale  mosaics,  7.  See, 
also.  Healing  of  Demoniac. 

Marriage  at  Cana.    See  Cana. 

Marys  at  the  Tomb,  subject  in  minia- 
tures of  Gospel  Books,  8.  See,  also. 
Women  at  Tomb. 

Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  subject  on 
Gaeta  column,  5;  on  Chart  res  win- 
dow, 6 ;  in  Monreale  mosaics,  6 ;  in 
miniatures  of  Gospel  Books,  8;  in 
Giotto's  frescoes,  9;  in  Barna's 
frescoes,  10 ;  in  Fra  Angelico's  pan- 
els, 11 ;  in  Cremona  frescoes,  13 ;  in 
Tintoretto's  frescoes,  15;  frequent 
subject  in  art,  71 ;  features  of  com- 
position, 72 ;  examples  of,  72,  73. 

Matthew,  Call  of,  Ravenna  mosaic 
only  early  example  of,  2, 121 ;  later 
examples,  121, 122. 

Maximiau,  Bishop  throne  of,  2, 31,  66, 
83, 104, 157. 

Menologium  of  Vatican,  8,  37,  66,  292. 

Milton,  "Paradise  Lost"  cited,  90, 
*'  Paradise  Regained  "  cited,  92. 

Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,  fea- 
tures of  composition,  110 ;  examples 
of,  110-113. 

Mocking,  subject  in  Cologne  school 
series,  10 ;  various  forms  of  subject 
in  art,  266 ;  examples  of,  266,  267. 
See,  also,  Christ  Mocked. 

'*  Modern  Painters  "  cited,  86. 

Money  Changers  cast  out  of  Temple, 
subject  in  Monreale  mosaics,  7;  in 
Giotto's  frescoes,  9;  on  Ghiberti's 
gate,  11.  See,  also,  the  subjects  First 
Cleansing  of  Temple  and  Second 
Cleansing  of  Temple. 


it  Julnii.  l-tB  1  place  of.  In 
"■  -HI ;  pnimineDuc  ot.  In 

l'<t>r'l!('H'ui)  or  kleuUty  i>r  lubject 

>\  iili  clirlHl  uHlklUK  uiL  WHter,  193. 
s-.-,  ni-n,  i.ii).|.-i  ..f  chrl-l  walking 


otto's  school,  10;  Id  Fn 
( p&ttels.  Hi  on  Oblbertl's 
in  Jaoopo  BelllQli  sketcb- 
iD  Cremoaa  frescoes,  ir 
>s  frescoes,  U  i  teBtnres  i 
imposltloa,  44,  45;  eun 
-48!  Ideal  lonnot,4S.  47. 
Identity  of  subli 
Iking r-"--  "-'- 

icll,  8e"cond',S." 

Discourse    wltb,    i 
art,  101 ;  examples  of,  102. 
Gospel  of,  S14. 
place  of  In  Deiicent  from 
,  306;  In  Deposition,  308; 

Son  healeit,  siibjcut  In 
mosaics,  T. 

mgere,  subject  In  inltiliL. 
lospel  Rooks.  K ;  Identity 
witli  Christ  appearlnK  to 


.  Use  separate  subjects, 
ieHlecl.  examples  nf.  in 
110;  rare  examples  In  later 

lorij 

tlon  occupl        _.. 

ries,  I4i  meaning  of  term, 
ice  of  snb]eet  In  early  art, 
1  of  subject  In  art,  isa; 
treatment  of,  :»0-2Zt>. 
er,  quoted,  W. 
If,  subject  In  Baruii's  fres- 

ndren,  Call  of,  assoclnteil 
of  James  and  Julin,  lOr ; 
of,  107-109. 
t  appearlne  to.  subject  In 

Iflxlou  or,  subject  in  Mon- 

ul  of.  snbject  in  Ravenna. 
;  In  Munreale  mo.saic!*,  7; 
irea  of  (:n<i|iel  Books, Hi  in 


l.K-.-to(C! 


Of,307,3l». 

Ptmrlsees  object  to  Christ's  heaUng 
on  Babbatb,  subject   In   Monieals 

PlelA,  dlsUngulshed  as  an  art  subject, 


.    Pilate  'wasblng  his  Hands,  sabject 

Cremona   frescoes,   ■'-■-"- 

Iresooes,'" 
tattc 


hiFertart's 
Lord,  snbject  In 


iijn  panels  of  ^otto^  sehool,ta; 
^a  Aninlleo^  panels,  ll ;  hi  Ja- 
}  BeUInl's  Bke(cli.bool(,  12;  In 


I'roUlKal  Son,  Purable  of,  popularity 
as  an  art  subject,  197;  subjects  iii- 
ehided  In  narrative,  198;  examples 
of  Prodlmil's  Departure,  198 ;  exam- 
ples olTrodlaal-s  Hlotons  Living, 
108,  lOB;  examples  of  Prodigal's 
Beperitance,  19(t,  200;  e]iamples  of 
Prodigal's  Betnrn,  •UK),  £01. 

Psalter,  Great  Uitin,  »7. 

Psalter  of  King  Atbelstan,  341. 

ijuast.  edition  of  Schulz's  "  Uenkmae- 
ler  "  referred  to,  21  n. 

Heber,  von,  cited,  4. 

Sesurrectlon  of  the  Dead,  subject  on 

Gaeta  column,  G. 
Resurrection,  the,  history  of  subject 

In  art,  315;  features  of  composition, 

31S,  31T ;  examples  of,  31il'321. 
aeturn  from  Egypt.    See  Egypt 
Itetuni  to  Nazaretb.    Soe  Nazareth. 
Klch  Man  aud  I«zarus,  Parable  of. 

reasons  for  representation.  204,  335; 

examples  of.  204-20". 
Kidolfl,  Carlo,  opinion  of,  cited,  109. 
Rio.  A.  F..  opinion  of.  clled,  64. 
Knskln,  "Bible  of  Amiens"  referred 

to,  3,  30 ;  opinion  cited,  57  n. ;  83, 342 ; 

"Stones  of  Venice "  referred  to, 65; 

"  Modem  Painters  "  referred  to,  86. 

'  of,  in  Christ  raising  the  .  Salome  (Daughter  of  llcrodlas)  before 


Rerod,  suhjeet  in  Masolino'a  fres- 
coes,  18  i  Uaiice  o[,  subject  in  Ulot- 
..^  , ....   .J,  Giiirtainla]o'3 


Sumitfia,  Christ  wttb  Womao  of,  sub- 
jei-X  in  iiriiuillve  Christian  art  cycle, 
1;  In  Bavenna  mosaics,  2;  In  Mon- 
reale  mosaics,  T  j  compared  wltli 
IMscourae  wlUi  Nlcodenms  In  popu- 
larity, 103, 1<H ;  features  of  compc>sl- 
tion,  101,  lOG  i  examples  of,  105,  lim ; 
comparison  of  subject  wiCh  Christ 
appearluE  to  Magdalene,  3^. 

Samarlt&n,  Parable  of  tlie  Good,  ex. 
amples  In  art,  ITS-UO. 

Scourfilng,  the.    See  Flugellation, 

Importance  in  art,  vi»;  examples  of, 
Shepherds,  subject  In  Mooreale  mo- 


Sheph 


...     Adoration  of,  subject  on 

<iaeta  column,  fi;  In  Tintoretto's 
fi-escoes,  IB ;  of  palntinas  by  Paima, 
Aspertiui,  and  SlEiiorel  li,  3T ;  dlsttn- 
eufshed  from  Nativity,  4D,  early 
form,  49  i  examples  of,  49-Bl. 
Sbephecds,  Angel  appearlne  to,  siil)- 


Sheplierds,    Annunciation    to, 
otner   subjects,  J7;    treated    iiiue- 
nendently,3fi;  examples,  .'<H-40. 

Scliulz,  "Denkmneler  der  Knnst  dee 
Mlttelalt«rs  In  Unteritalien."  21  n. 

BImeon,  Improperly  Introduced  In  Cir- 
cumcision, GS ;  place  of.  In  Presenta- 
tion, 66,  e?. 

Smith,  "Calalogue  raisonne,"  cited. 


examples  In  art. 


Sower,  Parable  o 

140, 142. 
Stephatoii,  place  of,  li 


Sttanahan,  Mrs,,  opinion  of,  cited,  4< 
Symonds,.Tobn  Actdinetou,  opinion  t 

cited,  SIT, 
Syriac  Gospel,  2». 
Syro-Phoenlcian  Woman,  Christ  and. 


It  stlllinR,  examples  of, 
:l,  subject  ( 


iiairattTe,  SiS;  examples  ot,  in  art, 
Tomb  of  Christ,  subject  In  Monreale 

Transfiguration,  subject  in  Monreale 
mosaics,  t  ;  two  forms  of  representa- 
Won,  166;  features  of  composition, 
1«6:  examples  of,  16S-189. 

Tribute  Money.Christ  discussing  witli 
Pharisees.  su1>jeGt  distinguished 
from  otber  tribute  incident  2as: 
place  of  subject  in  art,  -233 ;  exam- 
ples of  subject  in  art.  234. 

Tribute  Money  miraculously  provided, 
reasons  for  rarity  as  art  subject, 
ITl;  examples  of,  1T2, 


"V'asari.  opinion  of.  cited,  317. 

"Veronica,  St.,  p^omInt^nce  of.  In  Jour- 
ney  to  ISilviiry,  sUi. 

"Virglu,  Coronation  of,  subject  in  Fra 
Angelico's  panels,  11;  Parting  of, 
from  Eli^iabeth  and  Zaeharias,  sub- 
ject InMasoUno's  a«scoes,  18;  sup- 
Bised  presence  at  birth  of  John  the 
aptist,  32 ;  place  of.  lu  Nativity, «, 
46;  in  Circumcision,  G2 :  In  Presenta- 
tion, SO,  ST;  in  Adoration  o(  Magi, 
K);  in  Christ  found  In  the  Temple, 
TO,  78 ',  prtonlnence  of.  In  subject  of 
Christ  ted  to  Calvaiy.  2SB,  290 ;  bind- 
ing loin  cloth  on  Christ,  292 :  place 
of,  in  Crucifixion,  204, 206 ;  place  of, 
in  Descent  from  Cross,  304,  30t:  in 
Deposition,  308 ;  In  Entombment, 
311 ;  In  Ascension,  340, 341. 

"  Virgin,  Life  of,"  by  Diirer,  47, 54, 05, 
71,  T8. 

Virgins,  Parable  of  Ten,  reasons  for 
representation  in  art.  235;  early  ex- 
amples of  symbolic  use,  23B-23"i 
later  examples,  23T,  2^. 
"-'■-"—  subject  on  Gaeta  column, 
window.  S;  In  Moii- 


schooi,  lOi  on  Plsano's  guic,  n ;  m 
Ghiriandajo's  frescoes,  19 ;  in  An- 
drea del  Sarto's  frescoes,  19;  In  An- 
drea Sacchi's  series,  10. 


Tempest,  CI 

Temptation  of  our  I 
the  Gaeta  column.  . 
mosaics.  7:  on  Ghlberti's  gate,  II, 
SO,  00 :  in  Tintoretto's  frescoes,  16, 91 : 
rare  subject  in  art,  xs :  examples  of, 
88-03. 

Thomas,  Incredulity  of,  subject  In 
miniatures  of  Gospel  Hookii,8.  Hee, 
also,  same  subject  under  title  ol  Un- 
belief  of  Thomas. 

Thomas,  Unbelief  of,  features  of  art 
representation,  33B,  330 ;  analysis  of 


same  subject  under  title  of 
Marriage  at  Cana. 

Westwood, "  Facsimiles  of  the  Minia- 
tures of  Anglo.8axon  and  Irish 
Manuscripts,"  H9  n. :  341. 

Widow's  Son  at  Nain,  Healing  ol,  sulh 
•Ject  compared  with  Balsing  of  I.Hr.R- 
rus,  132;  rare  examples  of,  133rl:<4. 

Wise  Men  (or  Magi),  Star  appearing 
to,  subject  In  frescoes  of  St.  Urban 
alia  Caflarella,  5 ;  In  Monreale  mo- 
saics, «,  42;  rare  subject  In  art.  42; 
'  9  0t,42,43. 


i  Hand,  Man  wtUi,  healed, ' 
ubject  In  art,  U7i  examplen 

tin  and  Woemuuin,  **  History 
itingj'*  referred  to,  8. 
kneeling  at  Chrlst^i  Feet,  sub. 
primitive  Christian  art  cycle, 
t>Ject  variously  Interpreted, 
174.  8ee.  also,  same  subject 
title  of  woman  with  Issue  of 

and  Woman  who  touched 
f  Christ's  Garment. 
Mfho  touched'Hem  of  Garment, 

healing,  familiar  subject  in 
irt,  149 ;  examples  of,  180, 162. 
ISO.  same  subject  under  title 
n  kneeling  at  Christ^  Feet, 
bman  with  Issue  of  Blood, 
with  Issue  of  Blood,  Healing 
Ject  in  Obensell  frescoes,  4;  in 
ale  mosaics,  7 ;  in  miniatures  ! 

fel  Books,  8.  See,  also,  same 
under  title  of  Woman  kneel- 
:?hrist*s  Feet  and  Woman  who 
id  the  Hem  of  Christ's  Gar- 

at  Tomb,  Angel  appearing  to, 


early  significance  in  art,  321 ;  early 
type  of  composition,  322;  develop- 
ment  of  subject  in  art,  322;  exam- 
ples of,  322-32S. 

Zaeharias,  Angel  appears  to,  subject 
in  Monreale  mosaics,  6 ;  on  Pisano's 
gate,  17;  In  temHSOtta  bas-reliefs, 
17;  in  Giotto's  frescoes,  18;  in  the 
San  Severino  frescoes,  18 ;  in  Maso- 
lino's  frescoes,  18 ;  in  Ghirlaiidajo's 
frescoes,  19;  in  Andrea  del  Sarto'it 
frescoes,  19;  in  Sacchi*s  series,  19. 
See,  also,  same  subject  under  title 
of  Annunciation  to  Zaeharias. 

Zaeharias,  Annunciation  to,  features 
of  composition,  21 ;  examples  of,  21, 
22.  See,  also.  Angel  appearing  to 
Zaeharias. 

Zaeharias,  Call  of,  subject  of  bas-re- 
lief, 17. 

Zaeharias.  Dumbness  of,  subject  in 
Moiu^e  mosaics,  6, 22 ;  on  Pisano's 
gate,  17, 22 ;  In  embroideries  in  Flor- 
ence Baptistery,  22. 

Zimroem,  Helen,  article  in  **  Art  Jour- 
nal "  referred  to,  92  n. 


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